#one of the things that pleased me about this was that it was falling dusk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mysteria157 · 6 months ago

Text

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Light Profanity, Light Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Fingering, Mentions of Cunnilingus, Public Sex (Sort of), Office Sex

WC: ~9.8k

Summary:

Nanami may be disconnected from social media trends, but he’s not oblivious. He’s overheard the crass innuendos and seen the tasteless memes on Yuji's phone. He knows the vulgar things some men say—about how excited they get when the summer begins.

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it.

Sundress season.

Notes: Hello! Had a random thought this morning and decided to roll with it and practice writing Nanami some more. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy this one-shot.

This is a prime example of me writing smut when I feel like it. Please do not ask me for more related to this story and please do not ask me to write smut, the answer is no lol. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune @arminsumi | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

The city summers are a different kind of hell. The humid heat clings to Nanami, making his skin feel instantly tacky as if he hasn’t showered in days. It wreaks havoc on his usual crisp suit and tie, causing the fabric to stubbornly adhere in unflattering ways. He thinks back wistfully to his bachelor days when he could simply escape such misery by holing up inside with the AC blasting, and then wait until the evening for a walk or to run errands. But that was before you came into his life like a vivacious sunbeam, all warmth and carefree laughter.

Now, he wouldn’t dream of depriving you of simple joys like strolling hand-in-hand through the park, watching you bask in nature’s dazzling seasonal shifts. The fragrant flowers blooming, the fireflies flickering to life as dusk settles, the earthy pre-rain smell you adore—he lives for the ease of these tranquil moments.

Throughout your relationship, Nanami has cataloged your ever-changing looks to match the passing seasons. The oversized chunky sweaters and leggings you’d cuddle up in during fall’s crisp breezes. The sleek peacoats and woolen scarves wound around your neck when winter blanketed the city in soft stillness.

But summertime is when your vibrant spirit and personal style shines. And it’s Nanami’s first summer with you when everything changes.

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it.

Sundress season.

And it’s a season that has awoken something primal within him. Something in his gut stirs, something in his mind shifts and the more he notices, the more he feels like a lecherous old man instead of the well-mannered one in his late twenties. While his clothes stick uncomfortably to his sweat-slicked skin you get to slip into breezy summer dresses that let every inch of your beautiful body breathe.

As an event planner constantly on the move, you seem to live in the wispy, colorful outfits at all hours of the day. Like the buttercup yellow and candy pink number currently floating around you as you stroll together to the bakery during your shared lunch hour. It’s modest—cotton fabric that doesn’t stick to you, with ruffle short sleeves and a V-neckline that highlights your collarbones and the delicate diamond necklace resting between.

Nanami risks a sidelong glance, instantly regretting it when his gaze gets trapped by the way the bright floral pattern sways and twists with each step you take. The hem brushes the brown skin of your knees and while he can’t see much, Nanami knows the soft curves hidden underneath the airy fabric intimately.

While the caveman part of him can understand the underlying meaning of sundress season, it’s everything else that flares his want for you. It’s the wild curls that brush your cheeks and neck, the diamond earrings that reflect in the sun, the curl of your long lashes that kiss your lower lids when you blink. And yes—the gorgeous dress that you have on enhances everything about you—but in the most basic sense, you are beautiful.

“You’re staring.” It’s a playful accusation that you direct at him even though your eyes are admiring the tulips that you both walk past.

He quickly averts his eyes, sharp cheeks blazing a fiery red. “My apologies I…” Nanami clears his throat, struggling to regain his usual unruffled demeanor. “That dress looks lovely on you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, pausing so he can open the bakery door for you. “You think so? I just picked it up last week. Perfect for this heat, isn’t it?”

Nanami swallows hard at the teasing tilt to your tone, the innocent question feeling anything but. From the very first day he met you—that very first day you knocked back a glass of expensive whiskey and smiled at him as if it was nothing—he’s come to accept that you have no reservations of flustering him. You thrive on it, and for as stiff as Nanami is, you are a breath of fresh air that he never imagined would slide into his lungs.

Umber eyes watch you walk ahead of him and into the welcoming AC of the bakery, tantalizing calves flexing with each step.

“Very much…” is all he can manage, hastily ripping his eyes away again as his equilibrium dangerously shifts.

You laugh lightly at his sudden silence, the warm, rich sound simultaneously soothing his thundering heart and making it trip up all over again. “You act like you’ve never seen me in a dress before.”

“You know that’s not true,” he mutters, switching his gaze to the menu to avoid your entirely too-innocent smile. “I simply…appreciate fine things.”

The rich ring of your answering chuckle sends molten desire licking traitorously down his spine. “Is that so? Then I’ll have to acquire more of these stunning ‘fine things’ for you to appreciate this summer…”

He should have known better than to egg you on. Had he kept his eyes to himself and brushed off your knowing glances, he could have enjoyed you without your playful watch. But for as smart as Nanami is, for as observant and vigilant in his work as he is in his life outside of it, he can never wrap his head around how devious you truly are.

One day, the weather calms down enough for lunch at the park. It’s the perfect day to eat outside. The sun is high in the sky but the canopy of trees gives you both the protection you need from harsh rays.

“Need any help setting up?” You call out, shrugging off the ice denim jacket from your shoulders to reveal this summer’s newest addition—an angelic white sundress adorned with delicate lace trim.

Nanami’s throat tightens and he shakes his head, unfurling a blue blanket onto the thick grass below you both. “I can do it, love. Please just relax.”

He carefully arranges the picnic blanket, spreading the wrinkles free before you plop down on one side. As you dig into the large lunchbox, he admires the crisp white cotton that seems to skim over your frame, covering you but still unable to touch. Thin straps leave your shoulders bare, your skin glowing in the sun from your shimmery sunscreen. No necklace this time, so the square neckline dips just enough to offer a subtle hint of cleavage. The stretchy ribbed material hugs and accentuates every lush curve before gently flaring into an effortless, free-flowing skirt.

You purse your lips and furrow your brow in concentration, leaning more over the lunchbox, your back straightening to steady yourself before he watches free of shame as you arch just so.

When you turn to flash him that achingly fond smile, your curls falling over one shoulder, all traces of decency flee from Nanami’s mind. In that moment, he’s transported back to those dizzying early days of your relationship—entirely captivated, yet utterly terrified of somehow shattering this dazzling, undeserved connection between you.

“Thirsty?” You hold out one of the banana milk boxes that he’s grown to love since your presence, an impish quirk of your brow, clearly aware of his slow descent into hell.

Nanami nods jerkily and takes the milk box, unable to find his voice for a beat. As you settle down gracefully beside him, the skirt drifts up in a gentle billow, shaping to and showcasing skin. He has to tear his eyes away from the wicked flashes of toned thigh with extreme willpower.

Like the devil you are, you toss him a coy smirk, shiny lip gloss clear even though he knows it tastes like strawberry. “We gonna eat or are you just gonna gawk at me like a weirdo?”

He can’t help the scoff that leaves him as he pulls out sandwiches for you both. “I thought you liked when I gawk at you.”

“Not when I’m hungry.”

He shakes his head, smirking softly as he removes the cling wrap before handing you your half, your fingers brushing against his. Warm pleasure blooms in his chest at the radiant sight you make contrasted against the swaying greenery. It’s as if you don’t belong but he couldn’t imagine you anywhere else. You take a generous bite of your sandwich, a smear of mustard in the crease of your lips as you offer him a gentle smile.

As the scorching summer rages, Nanami can’t help but chastise himself. A mundane and childish social meme has become the representation of the hardest test he’s ever taken. Maybe he should have asked for tips from Yuji on how to better prepare himself.

He’s always prided himself on admiring from afar, on controlling his emotions in public and savoring them later in private. He knows your beauty and the unintentional way you drain the air around him. But he’s always been able to offer that soft smile, place a hand on your shoulder or your waist and offer a compliment to whatever you’ve chosen to wear for the day. But recently, in the face of your summertime wardrobe choices, Nanami finds that steely discipline faltering at an alarming rate.

Sinking deeper into the plush living room sofa, Nanami exhales a deep sigh and allows the tension thrumming through his shoulders to bleed away. Here, surrounded by the apartment’s climate-controlled sanctuary, he can savor these increasingly rare moments of solitary peace sprawled out with a good book. It’s a well-deserved shared day off for you both—free of schedules, obligations, or anything more strenuous than lounging around with each other. And more importantly, at home, you’re nothing but comfortable clothes and soft pajamas.

He’s safe.

A wry smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he imagines the look of feigned innocence you always sport whenever he gets too overt about appreciating your seasonal attire. As if you don’t know the absolutely devastating effect even the simplest hair toss or twirl has on what’s left of his challenging self-restraint these days.

It’s going to be a great day. He’s almost done with this book, just three more chapters and then he can start another in his pile that he wants to tackle this summer. That’s right, Nanami Kento is going to—

The soft pad of your bare feet against the hardwood floors has Nanami glancing up instinctively from behind the novel’s pages. And just like that, the world around him completely whites out as if he’s been hit over the head with a brick.

You’ve emerged from the hallway in a yellow sundress so vibrantly captivating, so deliciously clingy and effortlessly suggestive that he nearly swallows his tongue in surprise. The rich gold hue kisses the deep tone of your skin, as if you’re a sunflower blooming under the artificial lighting of the apartment. The dress accentuates your shape in the most brazenly tantalizing way—the thin ruffle straps on your shoulders, the sweetheart neckline hinting at full cleavage, the dress’ light hem hitting indecently high on your thighs in playful flirty wisps.

But it’s the stretchy knit fabric’s complete inability to disguise any curve or meaty swell that really has Nanami sitting up straighter on the cushions. It’s not layered well enough—almost transparent—and the snug material leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, from the outline of bright panties that cover the soft spread of your hips to the pert dusky points outlined beneath the bodice.

Absolutely devastating and on full, confident display and this isn’t fair because he has three chapters left.

He barely registers the “What are you reading?” you offer him over one shoulder as you stroll towards the kitchen area in that swaying, uninhibited saunter that never fails to ignite his senses. Nanami simply sits there transfixed—one hand gripping the spine of his book while the other claws restlessly against his own inner thigh. Each roll of your hips has that thin dress swishing and lifting in tiny torturous glimpses that have his imagination veering wildly into unrestrained territory. But he’s at home, that’s okay right?

That’s when you shift your weight onto the tips of your toes, your back turned to him, stretching up towards the top cabinets with one hand braced against the counter…and the entire world seems to judder to a halt all over again. Because from this new vantage point, Nanami can’t tear his eyes away from the call of your legs, the dimples on the backs of your thighs, up, up to the hem and—

A guttural sound wrenches free from low in his diaphragm, a mix of a groan and a growled curse. He looks back down to his book, searching aimlessly for where he left off, flickering back over to you just as quick.

He should look away, tear his eyes off of the gloriously indecent picture you’ve unwittingly created simply by existing. And yet…Nanami finds his stare burning an increasingly blazing trail down the bewitching ‘V’ between your shoulder blades, past the delicious dip of your arched lower back to the toned flare of your thighs and calves below.

At one point, you bend even deeper at the waist, hips tilting up as you struggle to reach a particularly elusive item on the high shelf. The filmy yellow skirt jumps and flirts up with the motion, granting Nanami a shameless eyeful of toned thighs and the flash of his favorite pair of panties—lilac with lace along the edges that squeeze the skin of your ass in the most inviting way. He very nearly drops the book from his suddenly slack fingers at the sight, hissing out a low curse between his teeth.

You huff out an adorable sound of frustration as you fail to reach whatever item you’re going for, and he knows he should step in to assist like the gentleman he is. But his stare remains rooted to spot, ogling and committing it all to memory so he can think about it later—alone.

“Let me get that,” he finally manages to scrape out, voice gone low and gritty with naked yearning despite his best efforts at nonchalance.

You shoot him one of those bright, beaming smiles over your shoulder in response—blissfully unaware of the effect your glowing, ethereal beauty has on him even without your intentional teasing. “Just grabbing the flour for dinner,” you explain sheepishly, leaning into his broad form as he comes up behind you and grabs the ingredient on the top shelf. “I always have trouble reaching.”

And isn’t that just symbolic as all hell? His curvy, tempting beloved constantly hovering just beyond his reach these past few weeks—unattainable without discarding every last vestige of control he has. It isn’t like you both don’t have sex. You do…often. There’s just always been a build up, never anything explosive.

Even in the privacy of your home, he’s never thrown caution to the wind. Nanami has always been one to savor every calculated build of pleasure in its precious sequence. You’ve expressed your satisfaction readily enough, reciprocating his passion with that same rapturous abandon you bring to all aspects of life. But in all the years of his tiring, overworked life, you are the first to show him what it feels like to never walk a predetermined line.

“This is…I’ve never seen you wear it inside,” Nanami manages, his throat feeling increasingly dry as his eyes trace the line of fabric on your shoulders.

You take the flour from him, shooting him a sly, knowing look from beneath your lashes as you turn to face him fully. “It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?”

He can’t stop the reflexive glance that rakes over every inch of you. “It’s sixty-eight degrees.”

You lean in a fractional amount—just enough for the swell of your breasts to brush against his shirt as you crane up towards his face. “Well, I run hot,” you murmur, voice dropping into the pits of hell, a throaty register that bypasses Nanami’s higher cognitive functions entirely.

He’s beyond undone. Frozen in place with desperate, rapturous hunger raging through his very marrow. This close, he can make out the small raised moles on your exposed shoulders, the genetic blemishes that are common for your skin tone. He gets a better view of the rigid peaks of your nipples straining against the thin fabric, practically begging for the heated and dripping touch of his mouth that he’s always more than happy to bestow upon you.

His fingertips clench and relax at his sides, held back only by tremendous reserves of willpower from reaching out to map and relearn every soft, silken plane of feminine heat and temptation currently being dangled in front of him like a prize he still can’t win.

You take in the undisguised wanting and torment written large across his features with a look of utter satisfaction. Then, before he can formulate some slurred plea for relief, you spin on one heel and saunter out of his reach—hips undulating hypnotically beneath that flimsy gauze of material in an alluring farewell.

Only once you finally disappear around the corner does Nanami manage to sag forwards—palms braced on the counter as he attempts to draw steady lungfuls of air back into his oxygen-starved body.

By the time he plops back on the sofa, and opens the spine of his book, the desire to read is gone.

You take pity on him for a few weeks after that searing afternoon in the kitchen. Your outside adventures are marked by breathable athletic leggings paired with loose tank tops that drape and show you off…but in a far tamer, less flagrantly teasing way than before.

Even at home, the soft cotton shorts and tees you lounge around in provide Nanami some solace—the casual fabrics leaving just enough to the imagination rather than putting every mouth-watering curve on display.

Your usual playful flirtations also seem to be dialed back during this oasis period. As if you’re allowing the poor man a chance to realign his senses and regain some semblance of control. It allows him time to resettle back into some of his usual regimented routines. Without you on a mission at the periphery of his awareness constantly, stoking those primal fires, he finds himself able to slip back into the role of polished, tired professional and attentive partner with relative ease.

Perhaps a bit too easily, if he’s being honest with himself. Because before he can even register the transition, that fleeting grace period seems to dissolve back into the heady summer ether as quickly as it had begun.

The warm evening air smells of charcoal and citronella as Nanami moves through the crowd, trying yet failing to focus on anything but you. All around him, friends and coworkers intermingle while indulging in ice-cold drinks and delicious food fresh off the smoker. He loves food, especially Yuki's cooking when she hosts a barbecue.

But none of it registers tonight.

Because every sensory nerve-ending in his body is completely captivated and overwhelmed by the vision you make in that deep red sundress.

The rich crimson chiffon swirls and caresses over your body in sinuous waves of delicious color. You’re bathed in red, as if rose petals have unfurled and stitched themselves together to form the beautiful dress on your body. It’s a maxi dress that sweeps down to your ankles and kisses the straps of your block heels. Scorching flashes of full thighs are visible through the flowing slits on each side. The deep v-neck dips in a daring drop that leaves your sternum and the inner sides of your breasts achingly exposed.

Each step you take has the delicate material clinging and drifting in the most hypnotic dance around your heavenly form. Nanami tracks the rhythmic sway of your hips with a burning stare, his control splintering a little more with every toss of your head that allows the deep brown of your skin to wink at him from the column of your neck.

Yuki is already three wine coolers in—not a lot for most, but more than enough for her to throw decorum to the wind. From across the backyard, Choso watches with an indulgent smile as his partner bobs off-beat to the soft music flowing from the speakers.

Choso's expression of pure adoration mirrors the way Nanami looks at you when he thinks no one else is watching. They share that unspoken understanding, that bone-deep contentment of being completely enraptured by the women they love.

At one point, the music shifts, more alcohol disappears, and Yuki is hauling you to the makeshift dance floor of the backyard. Nanami tries, he really, really does. But everything about you makes him stand at attention. Breathing, walking, laughing, smiling at nothing, and now—with just one rock of your hips to the music—his eyes are locked in.

You’ve never been a good dancer. But you’ve also never cared of the expectation to be a good one either. And Yuki is an extroverted pull that makes you sway more, that makes your shoulders roll and laughter to bubble from your lips as you watch your friend make a fool of herself.

Nanami runs a hand through his thick blonde locks, disrupting the careful part he made before you both left the apartment earlier in the evening. The other hand clutches a glass of scotch a little tighter, the condensation sliding against his fingers before he takes a generous swig, his eyes not once leaving you.

You can feel him before you even look over, and when you do lock with Nanami’s deep brown gaze from across the yard, you throw him a soft look from beneath your lashes as you slowly roll your hips. It’s the same motion of your hips that he got to feel last night with you straddling him, panting against his lips in the middle of the night.

Outwardly sensual in only a way he can recognize amongst everyone around him. But it’s your rapturous, carefree expression of pure bliss that simultaneously enchants and undoes the last tattered remains of his composure. With every movement, you embody the very essence of feminine energy—raw, joyful, and utterly free. You are a vision of untamed beauty, a wild goddess of the summer night come to life in a swirling dreamscape of rich ruby chiffon.

The erotic, carnal urge to chase after your swaying, taunting form and haul you away to some shadowed corner where he can divest you of that sinful dress is overwhelming. Swallowing hard, Nanami averts his burning stare for fear of literally combusting on the spot.

“You alright there, buddy?” Yu's familiar voice cuts through the lusty fog, tinged with the warm charm of a couple beers down. “You look like you’re about to swallow your tongue or something.”

“I…excuse me,” is all Nanami can grate out, the remark feeling like fragments of glass as he speaks. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply stalking off through the open patio door and into the thankfully dim and cool interior of Yuki and Choso's home. Anything to escape your enticing presence for even a single moment.

The music and laughter from outside feels muffled as he sinks down onto the living room sofa in the shadows—rubbing distractedly at his thundering chest. But it does nothing to get rid of the vision of you dancing so wantonly and on unrestrained display in that gorgeous ruby sundress.

Where are you even getting them? Online? Or is there a store that he doesn’t know about? He hasn’t seen other women in the city wearing dresses like you do. But then again…Nanami doesn’t really pay attention unless it’s you.

His fingers grip the plush armrest of the sofa until the knuckles strain white, breath sawing harsh and ragged from his heaving lungs. Nanami squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself to visualize anything other than the way that lightweight crimson had drifted and kissed over your thighs that peeked between side slits, the growing sheen of sweat between the generous canvas of your chest, the exposed slope of your neck free of curls—a spot of concealer on the side to hide the mark he gave you last night.

A harsh exhale escapes him as he forces his eyes open, only to instantly regret it. The muted sounds of the party filter in from outside—sweet laughter, the low thrum of bass, the periodic high-pitched squeal of your voice crying out at Yuki to get a hold of herself.

Nanami’s stomach clenches raggedly at that sound, arousal stroking down his spine in sweltering waves. Through the clear glass of the patio door, he can see the way your face lights up in pure rapturous joy as you give in to yourself. The subtle shifts and gyrations of your body in time with the beat, each swivel of your hips like a siren’s call.

Against his volition, imagination melds into memory, replaying the countless times he’s buried his face between your thighs and simply drank in the celestial sounds of your pleasure until his name was a breathless gasp on your lips. That shrieking cry at Yuki almost the same towards him when he licks at your sensitive nerves one too many times. He forces his gaze away, leans his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling.

The music fluctuates once more, that instantly recognizable intro to the next funky summer hit you adore cuing up. Despite the walls between you, Nanami can still acutely pick up the subtle cadence of your movements in time with that danceable rhythm. He knows the exact choreography of hips and legs that song inspires in you…and his slacks suddenly feel far too confining.

That’s when your voice cuts through the relative quiet like a bolt of lightning, somehow even closer now as you call out—half-playful chiding, half siren’s promise.

“Oh Kentooo…” The singsong inflection has his eyes squeezing shut even as his cock shamefully twitches against it’s restrictive fabric prison. “Where has my favorite salaryman gone off to hide? You know I can’t dance without my partner watching me.”

Gritting his teeth against the dark, full-bodied groan that tries to escape, Nanami hunches forward until his elbows are digging into his thighs. There you stand framed in the patio door, backlit in a devastating silhouette by the lantern lights emanating through the loud yard behind you.

You walk closer in that torturous dress, the double layers trailing languidly behind in currents of fabric that have his throat struggling to swallow. Your stunning frame is practically dripping in sensual confidence and self-assured power. He knows the power you have over him and would sooner swallow his favorite tie than give that up.

The rich carmine floats around you in sinuous waves as you sashay closer to where Nanami sits transfixed on the sofa. And with each step, all manners and decorum that have been taught to him fizzle away with the increasing ache in his jeans.

“Like what you see?” you murmur huskily once you’ve prowled to stand between his legs, allowing Nanami an unfettered view of your neckline, the long gold necklace between your breasts winking at him with each shallow intake of breath. You lift one leg to press a knee onto his powerful thigh—close enough for your perfume to slide down his nostrils and cloud his mind. The slit over your bent knee flutters open in an obscene gap, granting his hooded gaze a glimpse of skin his teeth ache to bite into.

“I asked,” you breathe out in a seductive timbre, near enough for Nanami to actually taste the addictive warmth of your presence on his tongue. “If you like what you see…”

The inhale that rattles through his powerful frame is involuntary. So is the compulsive way his fingertips suddenly flex against the cushion with the overwhelming urge to finally reacquaint himself with the soft temptation of your skin. Others be damned, mannerisms of being a respectful guest falling to the wayside.

Somewhere through the rapidly thickening haze of pure liquid arousal, Nanami manages a jerky nod—unable to summon even the most basic of syllables in response. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing convulsively as you arch one delicious eyebrow in a silent challenge. With your beautiful curls pulled up into a high ponytail, he can see the slope of your ears that are adorned with the gold hoops he bought you last month.

Then, before he can gather enough of his scattered wits to chastise you for your behavior, you’re boldly reaching out and capturing one of his clenching fists in a firm grip. A soft grunt rattles up from deep in Nanami’s chest at the heated feel of your palm finally making purchase on his overheated skin.

But his breath hitches in a harsh inhale as you purposefully guide his splayed fingers towards your exposed leg—sliding his hand up excruciatingly slow to caress along the landscape of textures and planes laid out in offering. He expects the generous hem of panties he’s seen time and time again. He knows what they look like in his mind when he teases the edges before slipping inside to graze his fingers along your aching clit. But the calloused pads of his fingertips brush the thin string of a thong instead. And it’s just a single touch that has him wide-eyed, reeling—the edges of his vision dizzying into a hazy fog of aching, inexplicable need.

You should have come with a manual. Surely there’s a guide to get through the summer months with you? Some sort of text to explain the steps he needs to take to keep himself in control in public?

The rapturous throb of your saphenous vein leaps against his fingertips as you allow him to slant just a hairsbreadth further—close enough to feel the heat of the place he’s been countless times before—close enough to slide a thick finger along fabric he knows is wet.

Only for you to tear your hand away and drop your knee as the sound of Yuki's voice pierces the heavy sensual tension hanging between your bodies.

“There you are!” She calls out cheerfully from the sliding glass door. “My song is on, come dance with me!”

There’s a gentle tuft of laughter from you then—one tinged with dark satisfaction as you drink in the wrecked, wanton expression flaming across Nanami’s features. As if thoroughly enjoying reducing him to this strung-out state of desperation. You could rule the world if given the right resources.

“Yuki, let’s get you some water. You’ve had a little too much to drink…” your voice trails off as you disappear in a rustle of vermilion and sashaying hips with one last loaded look over your bare shoulder.

He manages a shuddering breath that feels more like sandpaper sliding down his abused lungs. The delicious scent of your perfume still clings to the charged air around him, the phantom-like caress of your dress along his knuckles, the sound of your throaty laugh disappearing back to the party outside. Each ragged exhale has his body subtly canting forward, giving silent chase to your retreating form as if by muscle memory alone.

This game…this deliciously maddening game you delight in playing has Nanami’s entire being teetering on the razor-thin edge of unraveling completely. Each new summer ensemble seems specifically designed to further tempt and destroy the decades of discipline he’s meticulously cultivated since he was a teenager.

Nanami would think after a relationship or two, he would have steeled himself against falling victim to seduction. And yet, not a single woman from his past could have prepared Nanami for the devastating combination of your radiant beauty and barely-restrained hedonism.

Your laughter calls out to him again, his eyes snapping up to see you smiling as Yuki chugs the glass of water Choso has pressed to her lips. Completely innocent and free of devilish qualities, the fact that Nanami knows that dark side of you makes him fold his arms across his chest, sagging against the sofa and glaring at your form as he wills his erection to go down.

It’s two days before summer’s end when Nanami feels the steadily fraying threads of his self-control finally unravel into oblivion. He’s tried every possible tactic these last few months to stave off the relentless fire of desire you’ve been stoking within him—going for runs, ice cold showers, avoiding you when possible. He’s even resorted to having you model your newest sundress purchases at home in a desperate attempt at desensitizing himself. It all seems incredibly dramatic, but Nanami has no idea what else to do. Nothing has worked against the intoxicating mix of your lively beauty and increasingly bold choices designed to torment him until he’s six feet under.

He had known from the moment he accidentally stumbled upon that fateful periwinkle dress sitting in your laptop’s shopping cart that it would be his undoing. He can still picture with perfect clarity the way the model seemed to shimmer and dance on the screen as he clicked through the product imagery—he pictured it with heart throbbing clarity how it would look on you.

And he still has so many more years left of his life to enjoy.

Without conscious thought, Nanami had swiftly removed the item from the cart—an invasion of privacy that left him nauseous, but a necessary decision if only to spare himself.

He was stupid to think it would actually work.

So it comes as little surprise to see you boldly flaunting that silken number tonight at the rooftop gala marking his company’s most prosperous quarter yet. The twinkling strings of lantern bulbs and hot summer breezes swirling all around you only heighten the flagging warning that this night won’t end the way he wants.

As you glide about the rooftop, the pale periwinkle seems to float effortlessly around your body. Like every dress before, this one is no exception, complimenting the deepness of your skin. The whisper-weight fabric lays against your hips and waist, simultaneously shaping and gracefully draping in all the right places.

The thin straps crisscross behind your neck, framing your graceful shoulders and collarbones. As you turn, the silk lifts and drifts around you in a mesmerizing swirl of decadence. It’s another plunging V-neckline, but this dress sits on your body and decolletage with an air of romantic grace. It’s not scandalous like that night at Yuki and Choso's.

But it’s the back—oh it’s the back that makes his gaze heavy, that makes the organ in his chest beat out of rhythm with every inch he uncovers. Try as he might, it’s absolutely impossible for him to look away from the delicate contours and valleys of your body put on full and enthralling display by this backless dress. From the elegant lines of your throat and shoulders left teasingly bare to the soft inward curve of your arched lower back—the dress is a cruel temptation showcasing every salivating inch of you that he’s spent countless nights worshiping.

It’s beautiful on you, truly and unimaginably beautiful, and it’s a terrible twist of fate that such a simple observation is destroying Nanami from the inside. All that discipline—the cold showers, the extra miles added to his runs, the attempts of desensitization—it’s useless. No matter how hard he tries, he will always notice something new each time he looks at you. And it will always wreck him and throw him off axis whether he likes it or not.

Because amidst all the warmth and sociability of this rooftop celebration, all Nanami’s rapidly sharpening focus can zero in on is the subtle glisten of perspiration trailing down the slope of your spine. Every imperceptible turn and cock of your hip amplified tenfold by the silk that gets to touch you while he watches. As if personally daring him to finally surrender every last shred of patience and simply take what he wants.

A soft chuckle escapes your full lips as Nanami’s boss leans in closer, undoubtedly regaling you with some far from amusing anecdote from the office. The charming sound has every thread of Nanami’s control taut like a bowstring. Because that sound means a lot for him nowadays—laughing at his dry humor, the movies you both watch together, the giggling stuttering into whimpers and moans of ecstasy when your back arches from his tongue.

Suddenly, the light summer breeze kicks up in and swirls around you, waving the hem of your dress and the two-day old twistout on your head. Instinctively, you reach up to tuck a lock of those dark silken twists behind one ear.

Time itself seems to slow as he watches those inky tendrils ghost across your bare shoulders and the exposed skin of your upper back. Nanami watches with visceral hunger as those wild strands make playful, meandering paths across the smoothly toned expanse of brown skin. His entire body instantaneously flushes with hot need and arousal at the simple, harmless image. The soft rise of your breasts shake as you offer a fake laugh to whatever drivel your boss has just said. And in that split second—the culmination of tonight, this dress, the entire summer of taunting and coy smiles— Nanami’s restraint finally shatters into so many useless slivers at his feet.

Before conscious thought can override anything else, he’s stalking across the rooftop with rigid, predatory intensity—adjusting the unique glasses on his nose, his mouth set in a grim line of single-minded focus. The gaggle of chattering coworkers and small-talk banter all fade away into muted static and white noise. All that exists in this heated vortex of Nanami’s rapidly narrowing universe is the coiling pull of you.

“Ah, Nanami!” His boss greets heartily, clearly surprised yet pleased to see the company’s best worker at last. “Your partner and I were just discussing a better way to spruce up the quarterly party for next year. Care to weigh in, my friend?”

The question lands on deaf ears. Because at the exact same instant his professional mentor is extending that olive branch of attempted small talk…your eyes are on his, a knowing, small smile pressed to the hem of your champagne glass as you take a sip. The sight of your jewelry, the fabric against your skin, the way you look at him…the desire that rips through his body is staggering.

“I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak with you,” he grates out in a tone heavy with gravel and masculine focus. His palm finds the smoldering heat of your lower back without conscious thought, marking delirious patterns of desire against your naked skin. Your eyebrows furrow with a silent question at the rough timbre of his command…even though you see that undisguised storm of hunger and frustrated desire raging behind his tinted glasses.

“Of course,” you finally murmur and turn to his coworkers to wish them goodbye, setting down your glass on the table beside you.

He’s burning, raging with a fever that doesn’t even exist and each shallow inhale draws more of your achingly familiar perfume into his senses—only making things worse.

He guides you through the crowded rooftop party and towards the elevators with a molten intensity bordering on feral. Nanami’s palm maps possessive into the searing expanse of your back. Every step jostles his arm flush against the silk on your frame.

“Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?”

The rich, seductive rasp of your voice is designed to torture him further, but Nanami doesn’t rise to it, simply presses fingers more firm to your back, his other punches the elevator button with purpose.

“I said I need to speak with you,” he finally bites out. “That should be more than enough.”

You lean further into his touch and look up at him, your tongue darts out to toy with your plush bottom lip in a show of faux innocence.

“Is that so?” The melodic lilt coupled with the ghost of your warm breath fanning across Nanami’s jaw would have been enough to make a lesser man’s knees buckle entirely. Instead, it simply ratchets the tension coiling through his powerful frame into a downright maddening degree.

The soft chime of the arriving elevator makes you both turn in tandem, the mirror of the elevator doors casting your reflections—allowing Nanami to drink in the smoldering fire already blazing behind your heavy-lidded stare. There’s profound hunger glimmering there that matches his own. An unadulterated wildness reined in by the thinnest veneer of coy indifference. You’ve always been slick—but not tonight.

The mirrored doors slide open with a hushed mechanical shush, you both step inside, and the doors slide closed.

Nanami offers a silent apology for the violation of manners his parents instilled in him before he backs you into the far wall—the breath punching out of your lungs as your back makes shocking contact with the mirrored paneling. Now it’s you breathless, struggling to compose yourself as the masculine power of Nanami consumes you.

A subtle shudder ripples through Nanami’s abdomen as you wantonly tilt your head back, arching your throat in wordless invitation just as your fingertips rise to trail heated lines over his heaving chest. The lapels are black as midnight, the undershirt a crisp white, and he’s the handsome man that’s all yours even as he fights between what’s right and what he wants. One of his palms is cupping the slope of your jawline as the other maps out the silk of your dress. He bends slowly until the heat of his mouth is tracing the full curve of your parted lips—a heavy brush of sculpted male confidence against your teasing softness.

“You’ve pressed against my boundaries to a criminal degree, love,” Nanami warns in a dark rasp scorched with the first cinders of the firestorm yet to come. His palm slides up the bare inward curve of your back until his fingers are tunneling through the wild riot of your twistout at the nape of your neck. Tinted eyes slit in satisfaction as your head tips back farther on a shaky inhale—granting him access to the deliciously vulnerable length of your throat.

“Nothing to say?” he husks out in the open, admiring the flutter of your lashes as his voice hits you. Nanami’s mouth brands a hot trail from the sensitive juncture of your jaw up towards the shell of your ear. You whimper softly at the slow, torturous build—the same sound of rapture he has memorized and pulled from you countless times between the sheets. It’s enough to strip away any lingering reservations entirely.

With the strength he’s never ashamed to show you, hands slide under your thighs and he yanks you up. Your legs wrap around him on instinct, your arms winding around his neck, your head tilting back again to smack on the mirrored glass.

His tongue glides along the buttery curve of your throat, tasting the familiar tang of salt and vanilla on the tip and the smell of him, of pure Nanami clouds your mind enough to finally look down at him, your noses a hairsbreadth from each other. It’s a silent standoff, your eyes as teasing as they are filled with arousal, his eyes dark with something that makes you shiver against him.

And then he’s kissing you, deep and hungry, his hands roaming the bare expanse of your back, dipping lower, pulling you closer. You melt into Nanami’s kiss, your initial surprise giving way to a matching hunger. Your hands slip under his suit jacket, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. He groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, igniting your nerves, thrumming in your veins.

You don’t even hear the elevator doors open but you feel him walking, lips hot and demanding groaning into you as you slide your fingers into his golden locks and pull. Nanami knows these floors like the back of his hand, and he’s familiar with the abandoned break room on the thirtieth floor, his hand yanking the door open and shutting it hard, lips never leaving yours.

You gasp into his mouth when your ass lands on the old buttons of a copier, the machine groaning under your weight, the plastic buttons beeping in protest. As Nanami presses you against the copier, he can’t help but marvel at the feel of you beneath his hands. The dress, this damn dress, is like water under his fingers, smooth and cool and entirely too thin. He can feel every curve, every contour, every shuddering breath you take.

He punctuates his actions with a roll of his hips, pressing his hardness that strains against his slacks against your core. You moan, your head falling back, and he takes advantage of your exposed neck, his lips and teeth worrying the sensitive skin, his tongue licking the marks he leaves.

“How many more dresses do you have?” he growls against your throat, his voice rough with need. “How many more ways are you going to torture me?”

You gasp as his teeth graze your pulse point, your fingers threading into his hair. “T-that depends,” you manage, your voice breathy. Nanami’s chuckle is dark, dangerous, his hands trailing higher, dipping into the seam of your panties, his fingers brushing over your clit. He savors the way your jerk against him, a whimper leaving your throat as you pant into the dusty air.

“Is this what you wanted? To reduce me to this? A man so desperate for you he’d take you in a public place?”

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into his touch, your breasts pressing against the thin silk that covers them. “Yesyesyes...”

Nanami’s groan is part frustration, part desire. “You have no idea what you do to me.” There’s a hint of wonder in his voice, a note of awe at the depth of his own need. His fingers press more insistently, circling, gathering your slick to make each stroke more messy and impactful, driving you towards the edge. The buttons of the copier dig into your skin, the machine whirring and beeping beneath you, adding to the crescendo of sensation. He can hear the mechanical shuffle of papers being chucked out from one end, slapping onto the floor.

“Do you like this?” Nanami pants, his breath hot against your ear. “Do you like teasing me, driving me crazy?”

“Yes,” you admit, free of shame, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, Kento.”

He slides two fingers into your wet heat, savoring your wanton gasp, increases the pressure, the speed of his fingers, pushing you closer to the precipice. “Have you done this before?” he asks, his voice raw with emotion. “Teased other men like this, made them want you so badly they’d forget themselves?”

“No,” you moan desperately, your head thrashing from side to side, deep locks brushing your cheeks. “Never. It’s only ever been you, Kento. Only you.”

“Say it again,” he demands, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Only you,” you pant. “I’m yours, Kento. Completely.”

It doesn’t take long—countless strokes inside of you, a curl of his fingers, a twist of his wrist, and you shatter. Your cry of pleasure mixes with the beeps and groans of the copier, your body shaking, your fingers digging harder into Nanami’s shoulders that he’s sure you’ve broken the barrier.

He holds you through it, his lips on your skin, his murmured praises in your ear, soft litanies of words that has made you fall deeper in love with him each passing day. You don’t get a chance to come down fully because he’s on you again, pressing closer, pushing your panties to the side and digging his fingers into the meat of your hips. But the angle is wrong, you’re too high and the copier digs into his thighs and impedes him from getting to you the way he wants.

With a grunt of frustration, Nanami lifts you off the machine. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you to the conference table. He sweeps aside the accumulated debris with one arm, sending sugar and tea packets scattering to the floor. Your back hits the table, the hard surface unyielding beneath you. Plastic cups crunches and snaps under your weight, sugar and coffee creamer powder puffing into the air, settling on your heated skin.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, soaking in the radiance you beam up at him, “how many times I’ve imagined this? Pulling you away from everyone, getting my hands on you…not being able to do it because I’m better than that.”

You moan as he nips at your collarbone, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “And yet here you are,” you tease, breathless with twinkling eyes that shine right through him.

He captures your lips again, the kiss deep and demanding. You arch into him, your hands throwing off his glasses—they smack against a wall—your fingers deftly undoing his tie, working on the buttons of his shirt. You need to feel his skin against yours, need to be closer, and he shudders at the feel of your warm hands breaching the open buttons, sliding up his bare chest.

As if reading your mind, Nanami reaches for the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down. The fabric parts, baring more of your skin to his heated gaze. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming your body like a physical caress.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Then his hands are on you, tracing your curves, fingers brushing your nipples before he gives them a pinch. A whimper shakes from you, your fingers pressing into his bare chest.

Dimly, he’s aware that he should stop this, that he’s in a public place, at a work event. But the heat of your body, the insistence of your touch, the mounting pleasure coursing through his veins—it all conspires to drown out reason.

Your hands fumble with his belt, your fingers shaking with need. He helps you, impatiently pushing his pants and boxers down just enough. And then he’s touching you, his fingers digging into your hips, sliding you closer to him until the tip of him presses to the sopping wet heat of your center, wet from your orgasm and still ready.

“Please,” you whimper, hardly recognizing your own voice. “Please, Kento…”pushing your dress further up your hips, trailing over your ribs, cupping your breasts until the skin spills between the gaps. His eyes widen at the sight, the base of his spine heating up. So many times he’s seen you like this in the privacy of your home, and now it’s in an old break room at his workplace, the consequence of you finally taking things too far.

He’s free of any feral energy as he kisses you, sliding into your welcoming heat slowly to acquaint himself again. Your fingers dig into his skin, your chest pressing into him as you adjust, the table creaking under your joined weight as you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your silver heels into his back. Soon he’s moving above you, within you, each thrust pushing you higher, each thrust fanning the fire within himself.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips, begging again for the unspoken demand of more. And even though the roles are reversed right now—you the one being teased—he gives you whatever you ask.

He sets a pace that’s just shy of punishing, each snap of his hips brushing his zipper against the inside of your thighs. The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slap of skin on skin, your gasps and moans, his grunts into the air. He cannot believe he’s in this moment, doing something so scandalous.

“You reduce me to this,” he pants against your lips. “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” you gasp, your hands pulling at open lapels of his shirt, squeezing around the buttons, the fabric groaning. “I’m sorry.”

But you’re not, he can tell. There’s a hint of satisfaction in your voice, a touch of pride. And why shouldn’t there be? You’ve brought him, the ever-controlled Nanami Kento, to his knees. He loves you too much to ever want anything different.

“I’m a good man,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, curving his next thrust that he knows will brush against that spot you like.

“You’re an amazing man, Ken,” you moan in surprise, your hips lifting to meet his to seek more. “The best. Only the best for me. Only you, Kento.”

The praise makes him shake, the fire in his body raging like an inferno, burning his skin, breaking him into a sweat. He presses a knee into the table, throws one of your legs over his shoulders and savors the ragged way your name leaves his lips as he gives you everything.

“You feel so good,” he pants, his tongue licking the skin of your neck. He tastes the saltiness of your sweat, the sanitizing taste of perfume, the powdered creamer and sugar that sticks to your skin from the table. “So perfect.”

“Come on, Kento” you keen, your nails raking down the suit on his back. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. Couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He’s lost in you, in the feel of you, in the knowledge that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. Wanton, needy, completely undone.

Nothing else matters—not the party going on just floors above, not the risk of discovery, not the propriety you’re both abandoning. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the heat that’s consumed you both all summer, finally finding release.

Nanami’s thrusts become erratic, his rhythm faltering as the base of his spine tightens in a delicious way to let him know that he’s close. His hand slips between your bodies, past the silk of your rumpled periwinkle dress, gliding over your clit in well-practiced strokes and the leg over his shoulder tenses up, your head digging into the table, neck arching for him to see the flecks of sugar sticking to your neck.

“Ohhh right there Kento. Right there. Please, please I’m gonna cum—I’m—“ you smack a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, eyes shutting tight.

“Absolutely not.” Nanami hasn’t suffered for months just to be deprived of anything during this encounter. He yanks the hand from your mouth, pressing it hard into the table, and the shock on your face as you look up at him, the staccato of your breaths, the undeniable seriousness in his gaze even as he pistons into you, admiring the way your dress pools at your waist as he gives you more, harder, deeper until—

“Ohhhh fuck!” you cum with a long dragged out cry, your body clenching around him, walls locking around his cock to the point his orgasm is yanked from him as he falls over the edge with you, pulsing deep inside with a groan muffled against your neck.

He sags against you, both of your chests heaving against each other. He slips a hand behind you, trailing lightly up and down your glistening back as you lie beneath him, spent and satisfied.

As he slowly comes down, he presses a lingering kiss to your sweat-dampened hairline, the roots of your twistout beginning to frizz. There’s a hint of coconut from your leave-in as his nose brushes down to your cheek. So familiar, yet still so intoxicating after almost a year of smelling it. As if he could ever grow numb to the potent lure of your presence.

A ragged chuckle escapes him at that thought, the mirthful rumble making you pull up your head to look at him. Nanami drinks in the utterly debauched vision you make—beautiful brown sweaty skin, hair messy, lips swollen and smirking as per usual.

His arm tightens reflexively around the sensual curves of your waist, pulling you closer in a subconscious gesture of possession and longing. Because for all the delicious torture you’ve inflicted over the past few months with your endless parade of tempting summer dresses…he wouldn’t trade this hard-won moment for anything.

Nanami is many things—disciplined, regimented, a hardworking—albeit tired— professional. But he is also only human at his core. And you, his beautiful free-spirit of a partner, has a simply breathtaking talent for awaking the primal, unrestrained parts of him he usually keeps so rigorously leashed.

“You know,” you murmur in that velvety voice he loves so much. “The minute I realized the dress vanished from my cart was the minute I knew it would be the one.”

A sleepy chuckle breaks free from his lips at your words, the sound causing you to join in as well—a vibrant melody that coats his soul in pure contentment. Nosing closer, he peppers a line of feather light kisses along the line of your jaw. “You’ll never go easy on me, will you?”

“And rob myself of bringing down Nanami Kento piece by piece?” You snort, shooting him a look of pure, playful sin from beneath your lashes. “I might have to make sundress season a year-round thing.”

His answering groan is part growl, part disbelieving laughter as the palm behind your back glides along the elegant curve of your spine down to the bend of your hip. Ever the devilish temptress without even trying, even in the aftermath.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“That’s a good way to go,” you tease, pulling him down for another kiss, sweet and sticky and full of promise.

His hands slide along the canvas of your body, fingers dipping into the ridges of the open zipper of your dress. He’ll make sure it’s dry cleaned so you can wear it next year. And hopefully he’ll be better prepared.

When you giggle against his lips and dig your heels into his back, he realizes that there will be no amount of preparation when it comes to you.

Thanks for reading!

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pomefioredove · 4 months ago

Note

Reader saying ”Let me distract you” to an overworked Jamil PLEASEEEEE I want to see that man WHIMPER. I want to see him BLUSH, I WANT TO SEE HIM BEG. Slamming fists on table rn I love that man sm he works too hard FR 😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(Gender neutral reader, please, by the way! Please and thank you :])

JAMIL POST!! I got u

summary: "let me distract you" type of post: short fic characters: jamil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, established relationship, short and sweet

Jamil is always tired.

That's one thing that never seems to change about him.

You've been dating the boy for months now, and known him even longer, and you have never seen him without dark circles.

The other thing that never seems to change about him, is that he can never admit it.

"Come on, just five minutes?"

You've been pestering him for hours now, hoping he'll take a break.

He's been working from dawn til dusk. You're not even sure if he slept at all last night.

"No," Jamil says again. It seems to be his favorite word today.

"I'm falling behind again. If I don't have this turned in by Tuesday, I..."

He begins to nod off before snapping back and sitting up straight.

You get up and stand behind him, putting your arms over his shoulders, your voice full of sympathy.

"Jamil, come on. You can't focus like this. Let me distract you,"

He relaxes at the touch, then sighs.

"You're... right. I won't get anything done at this rate. Five minutes,"

He finally joins you in bed, subtly leaning against your shoulder, his eyes open and avoiding yours.

It takes all of two minutes for him to fall asleep.

You adjust, helping him into a more comfortable position with his head in your lap. His sleeping self instinctively curls up to you.

Five minutes turns into fifteen, which turns into thirty, to an hour, and eventually you can't seem to keep your head up, either.

The morning is mild and bright.

When you wake up to the sound of birds and the feeling of warm sunshine on your body, he's back at his desk, tapping his pencil against paper.

Jamil hears you stirring and turns.

"Almost done?" you ask, yawning.

He glances between the paper and you. Though, instead of answering your question, he just smiles.

"Thank you,"

He gets up, tucks you back into bed with a kiss, and whispers.

"Rest. I'll join you in just a minute,"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #queued

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erwinsvow · 6 months ago

Text

rafe looks even cuter when he's asleep.

you don't know how the thought has never crossed your mind up until now—it's so alarmingly obvious to you right now. you stare—a bit stalkerish, even for you—but that doesn't deter you at all. you watch his chest rise and fall with each breath, the way he's completely crazy, sleeping firm on his back with one arm on your waist and the other tucked behind his head.

maybe rafe seems even cuter just because he's escaping all the stress of his real life right now—firmly asleep with hopefully nothing but nice dreams about you. and as much as you try to avoid it, you are the primary cause of all of rafe's stress. he worries about you from dawn to dusk, even when you try to convince him there's nothing to be worried about.

it's become something of a habit for him—taking care of you, making sure you're okay, even when he's not around. and you—well, you've gotten quite reliant on it. on him. you're not positive—but you think rafe likes it.

even now, on the verge of waking him up because you can't sleep, you hope he doesn't get mad. it doesn't stop you though.

"rafe," you whisper, pushing his arm softly, and then a little harder. "rafe. rafe."

he groans, eyes still shut. the third push has him blinking, staring up at the ceiling and getting his bearings.

"what time is it?" he slurs, clearly still half-asleep. "still dark, kid, go back to bed-"

"i can't sleep," you say a little too quickly, your restlessness presenting itself quite clearly. "please. i don't know why. i'm scared."

rafe closes his eyes, but then opens again, no matter how hard it is to stay awake right now. he sits up a little, propping his back against his headboard. when he turns to look at you, he doesn't feel so tired anymore.

you look really awake, like you haven't had an ounce of rest since the two of you went to bed hours ago. fiddling with the straps of your nightgown, you look up at him the way you always do—like rafe can solve any one of your problems in a minute.

and he likes it. rafe doesn't even try and hide it anymore—he loves it and loves that about you.

"what're you scared of, huh?" he asks, voice still thick with sleep. you breath in and out, trying to figure out how to explain.

"i dunno. i just am."

"okay," rafe says quietly. he closes his eyes for a few moments and then opens again. your lips curl into a pout automatically—you feel bad for waking him up. "how can i help?"

"i don't know that either. i just want to feel close to you."

"m'right here, kid-" rafe extends an arm around you, bringing you into his chest. you curl up against him like you always do, breathing in the scent of his skin and the warmth from where his hand rubs your back. but it's still not enough.

"i want to be even closer," you murmur, feeling a little more tired but not nearly enough to actually fall asleep.

"how d'you suppose i do that, hm?" you look up at your boyfriend—cuter still with his eyes closed like this.

"can't you just.." feeling surprisingly bold—probably from how wired yet exhausted you currently are—you sneak a hand over rafe's pajama shots, pressing your hand down until-

"jesus, kid. gimme some warning, huh-"

"what? you said you're 'never too tired for that', remember?"

"well, i lied. c'mon baby, just go to bed, i'll fuck you first thing in the morning."

"hmpf," you scoff, turning around and taking much of rafe's comforter with you. you don't have to see rafe to know what's going on—he's rolling his eyes and sitting up, probably has his head in his hands for a moment.

"jesus, kid. you're gonna kill me. c'mere," rafe says, turning you back around to face him with just one hand. your body flops next to him, staring up at rafe, seeing what he'll do next.

"we don't have to do it," you finally say, watching rafe move around in the sheets for a few moments. "can't you just... put it inside?"

"sure i can. c'mon," he says, and you climb onto rafe's lap as swiftly as you can. it doesn't take much—he slides up your nightie with one hand and pulls down his shorts with the other. you feel rafe prodding at your tight hole when he grabs at your tits, letting the skirt of your sleepwear fall back down.

"you just said-" rafe cuts you off.

"still gotta wake him up, remember?" you roll your eyes but they end up rolling all the way back. rafe slides in quickly—you almost fall onto his chest at the feeling.

incredibly full, realizing this is exactly what you needed, you let yourself curl back up against him. rafe's saying something quietly to you, one of his hands firm on your ass and the other on your back, but you can't even hear him.

"thank you rafey," you murmur, interrupting him without even realizing. "this is what i needed." rafe presses a kiss to your hair and you fall asleep before you even hear him whisper back.

#i love them #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

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thesunisatangerine · 10 months ago

Text

playing for keeps – chapter one

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

status: ongoing

(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two]

word count: 2.9k

The darkness lurched and a sensation of falling brought you back to your senses. There was a momentary confusion–as was the case after leaving the half-conscious state–but it didn’t take you long to piece the world back together. A shudder disturbed the panel beneath your feet and you felt the running tremor that followed accompanied by a low rumble you could barely hear through the stressing pressure in your ears. You blinked your eyes open and there was a rawness to them that made you squint, taking in a familiar scene that greeted you past the window as you did.

A deep purple tint veiled the brilliance of the sun, casting the world into the cool calm of dusk, as the remainder of the day streaked the horizon with its fading light. You recognised the sloping silhouettes of the mountains that stood tall in the distance, seeming all the more greater against the early evening sky, comfortingly familiar and inviting in their grand stillness.

The intercom played a three-tone melody followed by a voice that filtered through the static.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Barcelona. The local time is six hours ahead of the Newark area, and it is currently approaching six in the evening. Please remain seated with your seatbelts on until the ‘Fasten Seatbelt’ sign has been switched off. It has been our pleasure to serve you on this flight. Thank you, and a very good evening.”

In the moments that followed, chatter erupted all around you. Tearing your gaze away from the window, finally, you unbuckled your seatbelt but made no move to get up, opting instead to rest your cheek on your hand.

The thing that made window seats great–apart from the view, of course–was the fact that people who were in no rush to get off the plane wouldn’t feel compelled to move to avoid obstructing other passengers. And you, who was normally eager to stretch your legs after a particularly long flight such as this one, very much needed another moment to gather yourself. So you watched on as the other passengers stood and shuffled about, opening and closing the overhead bins to retrieve their luggage.

A restlessness crept over you. It erupted from somewhere deep down your gut to your limbs, and the feeling had you longing to jump out of your seat–to run–but you stayed put. There you waited, drumming a rhythm with your fingers against your thigh as your other leg bounced to the same chaotic pace. And without any bidding, the scenes you’d thought of before you sank into the nap you’d just woken up from flashed through your mind, relentless in their effort to tear you apart again.

You craned your neck to the side to see through the window. Somewhere at the far side of the airport, a yellow light flashed from a parked plane. It reminded you of fireflies and–

No.

You halted the memory and instead resorted to counting the number of times it blinked to keep your mind occupied.

“Excuse me, is everything okay?”

You blinked.

Turning away from the window to the direction of the voice, you saw an attendant looking at you with a curious expression.

“Yes,” you stuttered out.

Behind her you noticed that all of the seats were empty, and probably for quite some time now, so you gave her a quick apology when you stood to gather your belongings. You began for the exit after closing the overhead cabin but the stewardess stopped you again with another question.

“You’re a professional footballer?”

You looked at her over your shoulder. Your surprise at her question must have been clear on your face because she looked down at your duffel bag and then back at you with just a hint of amusement by the way her brow was lifted.

Oh. You forgot about that.

You hefted your Barça bag over your shoulder as you replied, “Uh, yeah. Are you much of a fan?”

“I love it. Love watching and playing it whenever I can. I’m more of a Madridista, though.”

“Oh. That’s a shame.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at your dry humor but without any hint of offense.

The both of you continued to the exit.

“What position do you play?”

“Keeper.”

“Very cute. How long have you been playing for Barça?”

“I’m just newly transferred, actually.”

By this point, the both of you had arrived at the plane’s open door.

“Oh, really? Well, I wish you all the best for your season. And I hope this doesn’t come across as unprofessional but is it okay if I asked you for a picture?”

“Thank you. And no, not at all.”

After you posed for the photo, she thanked you. You felt her fingers brush over yours as she took back her phone before she sent you a playful wink. Her beauty attracted you, yes, and years ago such blatant advances from a fine woman would’ve been received warmly by you but not anymore–especially not today. So instead, you gave her a polite, almost apologetic, nod and parted ways with a small smile as you shuffled out of the plane.

It was a haze, your journey through the gates, the baggage reclaim zone, and the checkpoints. The lights and images melted together in one big blur, the noises coalesced to a low drone, before the world focused again when your phone screen lit up.

‘I’m in the arrival hall,’ it said.

Despite yourself, your heartbeat picked up upon seeing it and a familiar restlessness made you shiver. You shook your head, rolling your luggage towards the arrival hall, tapping your thumb against the handle of your roller, the strap of your duffel bag clutched tightly in your other hand.

With every step, your heart jumped in anticipation.

You turned the corner and your chest stilled.

And at the sight you beheld, you were gone. It was like you were seventeen all over again.

To you, it was as if the world became brighter, the colors and shapes now sharper, and she was the light that made everything that much clearer.

A thought rang clear in your mind, Oh, god, she’s right there. And she’s so beautiful.

She was leaning back against one of the columns that lined the terminal, the darkness of her outfit a stark contrast against the white paint which made her all the more easier to spot. Her eyes were trained on her phone as she tapped away at it with a small, soft smile adorning her face; that, for some reason, made your heart ache. A few locks of her hair escaped the hold of her ear and they framed her face in such a way that made her look inviting and at the same time accentuated that air of untouchability that seemed to be always present around her. Some people recognised her as they walked past, their heads turning and fingers pointing, but none of them seemed to be inclined to disturb her, which you were grateful for.

Just one more minute, one more moment. You wanted to take her in as she was for just that bit longer.

It was as if she sensed you because, not a second later, she looked up to scan the crowd briefly, and then you were locked in her gaze. There was still quite a distance left between the two of you but even from where you stood, you saw her face lit up to a beaming grin as she met your eyes. She tucked her phone into her back pocket and gingerly pushed off from the column to approach you, sidestepping the people in her way with ease.

The next thing you knew, the familiar scent of wintergreen and mint, mixed with the faint sweetness of cinnamon and vanilla, washed over your senses. And the warm weight of her arms and body was all you could think about–could feel. Then a peck branded your cheek that left them feeling heated despite the dampness of her hair against your skin there.

Squinting through the sudden rawness of your eyes, you wrapped your arms around the strength of her, looping them around her waist as your hands found purchase on the small of her back. You hid your face in the safety of her neck, just like you’d done many times over the years. Like this, it was as if the two of you were still best of friends. Like you still knew each other like you used to.

“Hello, pretty girl,” she breathed against your ear. “Welcome back.”

As she said this, you knew in your mind–believed–that you were finally home. And the thought was enough to steal and return your breath to you.

You whispered.

“It’s good to be home, Alexia.”

———

The car ride was silent. It had started to drizzle not long ago and it had grown heavy enough that Alexia needed to turn the windshield wipers on. The wipers made a steady rhythm when they met the hood of the car and made a slight squeaking noise as they moved up and down the windshield–two of the few sounds that made the air in the car bearable.

The world outside the passenger side’s window had devolved to blobs and blurs from the droplets that clung to the glass. Still, you kept your gaze there as guilt gnawed at your gut the same way you worked your lower lip between your teeth.

The thing was, the walk to the car wasn’t bad at all. The both of you had chatted while Alexia led you to where she parked her car, your duffel bag hoisted casually over her shoulder despite your protests. But the moment the doors of her car slammed shut, so did you–it was as if all the weight of the past few months–exacerbated by the restless plane ride, finally hit you.

And to Alexia’s credit, she’d done everything she could to remove the silence. She asked you about your flight (again) and when that didn’t work, she began to talk football. She asked you about your last season, about how you won your league and wondered about how that must’ve felt like for you. Alexia briefly turned the topic to Barça and sprinkled in some funny stories she hadn’t told you over the sparse messages you’d exchanged that you reacted to. You were just about to settle into the conversation when she inquired about your negotiations with the club and how you felt about returning to Barça; she solicited the reason that made you inclined to come back. At that, you clammed up again. Alexia didn’t seem to notice because she began to mention things you used to do or like–things she didn’t know you didn’t do nor like now–in the quest to get you talking.

For each question she asked, you’d given her back the same kind of nothing: a yes, a no, a hum. The simple drizzle had turned to steady rain pattering against the roof, and the calming sound did nothing to ease the growing tension in the car. Despite the desire to engage in a conversation with Alexia, it was as if all of your thoughts–or at least the capacity to string them together–were hiding behind the dark curtain of your mind, the heavy veil tailored from the same fabric that weighed in your chest. Weariness pervaded your bones and your soul, and it exhausted you past the point of exchanging pleasantries and niceness, a task now seemingly impossible.

So you excused yourself from the conversation. You told her it was jet lag. Alexia nodded in understanding, but the light in her eyes had dimmed, and she trained them on the road with deliberate focus, her lips tightening to a line fit for silence.

Despite not having spent time with her like you used to the last two years you’d been away, the language of her face and body was still familiar to you–and how could they not when they’d carve themselves into the tissues of your mind?–enough to know that she wasn’t convinced at all with what you said. Because maybe, just maybe, you were to her as she was to you: familiar.

The thought provided little comfort, and the guilt felt heavier, another stone dropped into the pitcher.

And the feeling gave way to another thought, unpleasant in the way it told you what you already knew. Alexia took time to drive you to your apartment instead of resting for tomorrow’s practice, and this was how you treat her? How nice.

Then another.

Just like how you treated Olivia, right?

Your eyes closed from the sting that followed, a stitch torn from a newly-sewn wound. And you tried to prevent yourself from crying, but the darkness only served to rub salt to the cut as it made the fleeting images clearer and the words ever louder.

“I’m so stupid! So stupid…”

“Go. Please, just go. You won’t find happiness here.”

A touch to your arm startled you back to the present. The jostle from the gasp you let out was enough to make a tear fall, and you turned to Alexia who already had her eyes on you; her face graced with concern and a question.

The car had stopped, and now parked outside of your apartment complex.

“What’s wrong?” Came the gentle question.

Your heart lurched at the look she laid upon you, followed by an ache, a longing for the old times–back when you used to tell each other everything. But how could you tell her about this? About what led to this? When the fire from that night remained, glowing patiently as an ember in the dark, waiting for the wind to call her name again–to set her aflame again?

Another tear escaped your eye before you could turn away, which you brushed off with the back of your hand before you met Alexia’s gaze again.

“Nothing. I’m just–I’m sorry for being a bitch.” You said with a small, apologetic smile.

Alexia traced some invisible path along your face, regarding you with a pensive look. The moment took long enough that you considered she’d press you for information. Instead, she teased softly with a half-smile, “Don’t worry about it. What else is new?”

Your shoulders eased down a bit.

“Still a smart-mouth, I see,” you laughed with more than a bit of air, “Indeed, what else is new?”

At that, Alexia chuckled with you but the pressing silence returned.

Then Alexia sighed.

“How long has it been since we’ve played together?”

Her brows knitted together at her own question as she leaned back against her seat, putting her hands behind her head which pulled the sleeves of her shirt up just enough to reveal the tattoo on the underside of her arm.

You casted your eyes aside, your gaze fleeting to the unlit window of your apartment.

A memory intruded your mind again.

“I’m not sure,” you half-whispered.

“Two years.” Something in her tone told that she knew that you knew, but she didn’t call you out on it. But it seemed she was more inclined to call you out on something you said a long time ago. “I hope you’ve made peace with whatever made you leave all the way to the States of all places.”

You looked at her. Alexia’s brow was raised in silent expectation. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on.”

“‘Come on’, what?”

“You were offered a place in Lyon–in Bayern. Bayern! When I heard you were leaving, I went, ‘That’s it. Bayern has her’. Imagine my surprise when you said you were going to America.” Alexia scoffed as she gestured in the air with her hands for emphasis. A pause before she continued, “Now, tell me why you really went away.”

“I already told you.”

“Yeah. What was it you said? ‘I’ve always wanted to see what the competition is like there’? For someone who talked about Neuer and Bayern all the time second to Barça, it always made me think how and when the NWSL crossed your mind.”

Guess you don’t know me that well then.

You bit your tongue before you could say it. Instead, you shrugged and sighed, hunching forward so you could rest your elbows on your knees, fingers clasping together as you twiddled your thumbs. “If you don’t want to believe what I said, that’s up to you. I stand by it.”

Alexia regarded you with that same deciphering look she’d been giving you the whole night. And as if she finally understood that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with you, she shook her head and sank back down in her seat.

“Indulge me, then. Tell me, what’s the verdict?” Alexia drawled, dripping with thinly-veiled sarcasm.

It wasn’t like home.

“Really appreciate the judgment all over your tone, Alexia.” You replied drily then added, “And it was great, thank you very much.”

Alexia tilted her chin up to release a laugh. A strand of her hair fell out of place and she brushed it back with a finger.

“Well, you should tell me more about how you enjoyed yourself, then. I’m sure you have a lot of stories to tell.” You heard the unspoken words, ‘Stories you never bothered to tell me through the phone or during the instances we’d met during the time you were away.’

I would’ve enjoyed it better if you were there.

“Where do you want me to begin?” If Alexia heard the weary sigh in your tone, she made no indication she did.

“I don’t know. Where do you want to start?”

I went away because of you.

“At this point, we’ll be here all night.” You laughed.

Alexia chuckled, and then softly she said, “Just tell me anything then.”

Distance didn’t work. My heart is still yours.

You hummed, thinking of a story, as you finally eased back on your seat and then you began.

“Well…”

#ap11 #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #my writing #a/n: that benfica vs barca match today was definitely something #also not sure when ill be able to post chapter two but i hope you guys enjoy this <3

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teamred · 3 months ago

Note

re: your tags - I am dying to know about your Wade’s sister!reader x Logan fic, omg that sounds so fun 👀💖

-@eupheme

omg hi j!!! @eupheme (gonna tag you in case the ask post doesn't do it)

i actually have two wade's sister!reader x logan fics in the works! i hope you don't mind me sharing both~

the one i was referring to in my tags is called "dusk till dawn".

summary: vanessa is kidnapped, so while wade runs off to save her, he assigns logan to be reader's bodyguard. however, they don't get along, but they start to fall for each other over time.

it'd be a road trip/motel hopping au with lots of banter, sharing one bed, tension, angst, and steamy moments of course 👀

i'm taking inspiration from some of the moments with logan and mariko from the wolverine (2013) movie!

i'd love to share snippets, but it's really in the draft stages right now!!

second fic i have is called "can't help myself" (title tentatitive)

summary: wade only has one rule for logan: his sister is completely off-limits. but of course, logan never plays by the rules, and you couldn't give two shits about what your dumb-ass brother says.

this one would be more of a fun fic!! just like messing with wade but also having fun with logan and lowkey falling for him too

lots of dialogue, especially with wade, smut, fluff, etc. just a vibes fic

wouldn't be as long as the other fic - i wrote quite a bit for this already! here's a snippet of the intro:

“Don't look at her,” Wade paces around his apartment’s living room, listing the things Logan, his new roommate, should avoid when he meets his sister tomorrow. “Don't breathe in her presence, don't even think about her, and especially don't—”

“What, ya gonna tell me I can’t fuck her next?” Logan cuts in with an amused chuckle, reclining on the living room couch with a hand above his head.

“Yes, bingo!” Wade exclaims, pointing at him excitedly. “Exactly that, you geriatric sexy vampire. Or should I technically say vampire hunter?” He pauses, wondering for a moment.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you can have any woman you want in this new universe—hell, I’ll cry my heart out every night after my evening jerk-off seshes, but you can even have Vanessa—but my sister? We’re gonna have a repeat of the Honda Odyssey fight, Wolvie, and that won’t be a pretty sight to see.”

“Okay,” Logan replies, getting up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll make sure to fuck your sister until she forgets the fact that she's your sister. Got it.”

“Hey!” Wade smacks him on the back as he’s bent over, trying to grab a beer from the fridge. A low growl escapes from him. “I’m being serious here.”

“When are you ever serious?” Logan asks, popping off the beer cap with his thumb.

“Now! I am being serious now.” Wade’s voice rises before he takes a second to compose himself, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. Logan watches him carefully, sipping his beer.

“Please, Logan,” he barely whispers, avoiding eye contact.

The silence, punctuated only by Logan’s sipping, feels uncomfortable and heavy. Finally, Logan lets out a sigh.

“Fine,” he grunts. “I won’t get involved with your sister.”

Wade breaks into a relieved smile and extends his pinky. “You promise?”

Despite Logan rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he ends up hooking his pinky around Wade’s, sealing the deal.

Except Wade doesn’t see Logan’s other hand behind his back, with his middle and index fingers crossed over another.

#eupheme #cee.q&a #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #i think i overshared but i'm always game to share what i'm currently working on ahhh #on top of that i'm currently working on that wade fic that i got inspired from your post!!#i love working on ideas but executing them?? we shall see.... HAHA #thanks for being interested j!!! <3

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whorediaries-09 · 1 year ago

Text

tempt;

"I left a calling card so they would know that it was me."

☆ EVENTS ☆

'tis the damn season (closed)

you can meet me at the hotel; (closed) [kinkotober masterlist]

put your life out on the line" (closed)

got the wine for you; (closed) [false god (masterlist)]

maybe it's a blessing in disguise; (closed)

music got you lost; (open) [masterlist]

✧ ONE-SHOTS ✧

Peppers Sirius Black X Reader. Fuck buddies to lovers. Modern AU!. 18+ content

Delicate Sirius Black X Reader. Friends to lovers. TW- Self harm, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Night We Met Sirius Black X Reader Set During Order of The Phoenix. Mention of major character death(s).

New Year's Day Sirius Black X Reader Set during Order of The Phoenix. Fluff and low humor.

Cardigan; Sirius Black X Reader. Hurt/Comfort.

Sure Thing; Sirius Black X Shy!Reader Fluff.

Oh Children; Sirius Black X Reader Angst.

Million Dollar Man; Sirius Black x Camgirl!reader 18+ content, drinking.

Daylight Flowerist!Sirius Black X Barista!reader Fluff.

Consume; Dark!Sirius Black X Muggle!reader. 18+ content, cemeteries, dark themes.

Born to die Cult!leader Sirius Black X Reader. Mentions of murder, gore, dark themes.

Afterglow; Felix Catton x Reader Hurt/Comfort.

Dancing with our hands tied; Sirius Black X Reader. Hurt/Comfort, injuries, blood. (potential part two)

Maneater; Neighbor!James Potter X Reader 18+ content, stalker behavior, darkish themes.

She just hit my heart; James Potter X Reader Fluff.

Don't blame me; Priest!Remus Lupin X Reader Alludes to sex, dark themes.

Pick your poison, babe; Sirius Black X Reader Suggestive Content, fluff.

Try me; Ravi Singh X Reader Cigarettes, hurt/comfort.

ψ SERIES ψ

The Seven Lives; Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter. Status- On going (PAUSED)

No Time To Die (Status - Completed)

The hurricane with my name on it. Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter.

Love to think you'll never forget. Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter.

⨴MOODBOARDS⨵

Poison Ivy From my fall event (close)

Heartbeat; From 'the seven lives' series.

§ ASKED AND ANSWERED §

Call It What You Want Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Touch sensitivity.

Indentation in the shape of you Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. Fluff, bad humor.

Now I'm Covered in You Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. 18+ Content. From my fall event (close)

Trying To Keep The Water Warm James Potter X Reader. Professor James AU! Fluff. From my fall event (close)

Dark Red James Potter X Reader Set during the Marauders era. 18+ content.

Womanizer Sirius Black x Reader Set During the Marauders era. Angst, 18+ content, drinking, hints at sexual assault.

Meddle About; West Coast; FDad!James Potter X Reader. 18+ content, mentions of alcohol, age gap.

Maroon Sirius Black X Reader ex to lovers, drinking, alludes to sexual assault, hurt/comfort.

The great war; Sirius Black X Reader ex to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort. Part two to Maroon.

Do I wanna know? Rockstar!Sirius Black X Reader. 18+ content.

Dusk till dawn Sirius Black X Lestrange!Reader Hurt/Comfort, dialogue heavy.

Smoke on my clothes; Rockstar!Sirius Black X Popstar!Reader Fluff, 18+ content, use of y/n.

Into You; Ron Weasley X Reader 18+ content, porn without plot.

Wherever I go; Remus Lupin X Reader. Making out, suggestive, fluff.

Blue Jeans; Professor!Harry Potter X Reader 18+ content.

Getaway car; Sirius Black X Desi!Reader 18+ content, sexual tension, substances.

I think he knows; Ron Weasley X Reader 18+ content, mentions of war, fluff.

Gorgeous; James Potter X Reader 18+ content.

House of balloons/glass table girls; Sirius Black X Reader 18+ content.

You're in love Policeman!James Potter X Baker!Reader Fluff.

Can't you see, you're meant for me? Bsf!Dad!James Potter X Reader Suggestive content, fluff.

I'm gonna make you my wife; Sirius Black X Reader Banter, fluff, silly teenagers in love, kinda shy reader, alcohol, 18+ content.

This place will burn you up; Sirius Black X Reader 18+ content.

❁ ODE TO FANFICTION ❁

Hall of morals;

I'm running back home to you;

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scoonsalicious · 6 months ago

Text

7.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, discussion of feelings, nudity, mentions of some sexy stuff.

Word Count: 3.2k

Previously On...: Idk; it's been so long. Who can even remember? Just kidding-- Bucky blew off his plans for a 'friend-date' with Lily to talk to you about what happened that morning.

A/N: And we're back!

Hi, besties! I confess to not getting as much writing done as I had hoped on my break-- cursed writer's block! Then, last night, I ended up scrapping most of the writing I did do and started over, lol. However, I've got a bit of a back log again, and a four day weekend starting tonight, and now that I feel reinvigorated with the story, we'll be able to resume our regularly scheduled program!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You pulled up to the destination Bucky had sent you as dusk was falling. Langston Park. A weird spot for dinner, you thought, but you’d double-checked the location with Bucky, and he’d assured you that you were in the right place.

Glancing at your map, you noticed that the pin he’d sent you was a little ways up a trail. You parked your truck and double checked your bag to make sure you had your pepper spray at the ready– not that you were afraid that Bucky was going to harm you– just that, a woman alone in the woods at dusk? You could never be too careful. It actually went against your better judgment to go in there at all, but you trusted that Bucky wouldn’t lead you into danger.

If I do come across something unexpected, you thought to yourself, please let it be the bear.

You cautiously made your way up the trail, using the nearly useless flashlight feature on your phone to keep yourself from tripping over anything. It was difficult adjusting your eyesight from the bright light of the map you were following on your phone screen to the darkness gathering around you. After you’d been walking for about fifteen or so minutes, you had to turn left to go off-trail, cutting off your access to the dwindling daylight even more. You gently pushed branches of leaves aside as you made your way through the woods, until you noticed a soft, orange glow coming from up ahead of you.

When you broke through the tree line, your breath caught in your throat. The pin Bucky had sent you had led you to a small clearing nestled along a stream, with a melodious waterfall cascading down into a pool that held a handful of floating lanterns. The entire clearing was lit with hanging lanterns that gently swayed from the branches of the surrounding trees, washing the entire space with low, warm light. Spread out on the ground was a large blanket with some throw pillows, extra blankets, and a picnic hamper. And in the center of the clearing, crouched Bucky. He’d appeared to have just finished setting up his phone to stream some soft music. The entire tableau was the most romantic thing you’d ever seen.

“Hey,” you called softly as you turned your flashlight off, dropped your phone into your bag, and made your way into the clearing.

Bucky stood and turned to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Major, hi,” he breathed. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Did you do all this for me?” you asked in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You could feel a lump form in the back of your throat, and you had to actively tell yourself not to cry. No one had ever done anything so absolutely romantic for you in your entire life. Not once had Connor ever made a fraction of the effort Bucky had made tonight.

Bucky’s face took on a look of panic. “Is it too much?” he asked, nervously glancing around as though he were trying to judge it anew through your eyes to see what you might find wrong with it.

You smiled, reaching for his hand to offer a squeeze of reassurance. “It’s lovely,” you said. “No one has ever done something so amazing for me, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky visibly relaxed at your words. “Figured I owed you something special, to make up for this morning.” He motioned to the blanket, guiding you to sit down with him. “I brought dinner,” he said, opening up the basket. Inside were several subs, a couple of bottles of lemonade, and a few bags of chips. “Sweet onion teriyaki chicken with cucumbers, extra pickles, and red wine vinegar,” Bucky said, handing you a sandwich. You held the sandwich to you for a moment, your chest filling with warmth at the fact that he’d remembered your offhand comment about your favorite sandwich.

You put the wrapped sub down on the blanket in front of you. “Could we talk before we eat?” you asked him. “I’ve got some things I want to clear up first.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, putting down the sandwich he had gotten for himself and looked up at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, sugar,” he said.

You took a breath. “I get why you didn’t tell Lily about me,” you said slowly. “It’s new, and we’re not even really anything. So, what’s there to tell her, really? Plus, she and I didn’t really have the best first impressions of one another, so that part, I understand. What I don’t get is why you felt you needed to lie about being out on a date at all.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you weren’t finished.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many calls I got toward the end of my marriage that went just like the one you had with Lily last night. All the times Connor assured me he was just “out with the boys,” when, in reality, he was with his mistress. So, I guess, hearing you tell Lily you were with Sam for a ‘guys’ night’ was kind of triggering.” You sighed, heaving your shoulders. “I need to know, and I need you to be honest with me: Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that why you felt the need to lie to her about being out with me?”

Bucky shook his head vehemently and made a face of mild disgust. “Major, no– there’s never been anything between us,” he said. “I won’t lie, Lily is very important to me– as a friend– she was the first new one I made in almost eighty years, and she stuck by me when I was going through a really difficult time in my life, when I really hadn’t given her much of a reason to, but in terms of anything romantic, or sexual? Never.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. He seemed sincere, though if you had been a good judge of when a man you had feelings for was lying to your face, your marriage to Connor would probably only have been a fraction as long as it was.

“Alright,” you said, choosing in the moment to believe him, “so, if you’re as close as you say, and there’s nothing romantic between the two of you, it makes it even stranger that you lied to her about being out on a date last night.”

Bucky looked down, toying with a loose thread on the blanket you both sat on. “At the time,” he said, not looking up at you, “not telling her the truth seemed like a good idea. It didn’t really cross my mind that I was lying… more like ‘just not telling her the truth yet.’ I was really looking forward to seeing you again, doll,” he told you, his eyes now rising to meet yours, “ and telling Lil… well, it felt like I was needlessly complicating things."

You let out an exasperated sigh. “None of that explains to me the why behind it, Bucky,” you said. “Why would telling your best friend complicate things?

“I just didn’t want her getting involved in our business before the two of us even knew what our business was,” he said, as if that made everything clear.

“But, shouldn’t your best friend knowing your business be, I dunno, a good thing?” you asked him in frustration, wanting to reach out and shake him. You felt like you were going around in circles. “Shouldn’t she be happy for you?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Of course she’ll be happy for me. It’s just…” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Lily’s always had… opinions about every girl I’ve ever dated, and she’s never made it a point of keeping them to herself. I mean, most of the time, she ends up being spot on, and the relationship flops, but this…” he moved to place his hand over yours where it rested on the blanket, “with you? I wanted to enjoy it before she makes those opinions known.”

You turned your hand over and squeezed his. The full truth of the situation had clicked into place for you at his words, and the realization brought both intense clarity and an all too familiar heartache. “All my life, I’ve been… impulsive,” you told him. “I jump head first into things, without thinking about the consequences. It’s how I got into the Army, ended up with Connor, hell, even how I started my business. Sometimes it works out, but…” you heaved a sigh, “usually it tends to blow up spectacularly in my face. I don’t want this to blow up in my face, Bucky.”

The confusion in Bucky’s face as he took in your words was evident. “What are you saying, doll?” he asked.

You took a moment, considering your next words carefully. “I… I really like you,” you began as a wide grin broke out across his face. “Probably more than I should for a person I just met a few days ago, but the truth of it is, I’ve seen this story play out before, and I’m not sure I could handle opening my heart to you, only to have you leave me for the best friend you swore I’d never have to worry about.”

Bucky took both your hands in his own, a look of desperation crossing his face. “Sugar,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Major. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you that I just don’t see Lily that way,” he said. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any dame the way I see you. You’ve got me feeling all kinds of ways I’ve never felt before.”

His words were sweet, and you felt your heart soften, but you had to remind yourself: you’d heard words just like it before. “Look,” you said, pulling your hands away from his, “maybe you don’t , but it seems pretty obvious, even as an outsider, that her feelings for you are stronger than just friendship. I don’t want to lose my heart to you if you’re going to realize that you belong with someone you’ve known for years, instead of a one-night stand that went on for too long.”

Bucky reeled back as if you’d slapped him and closed his eyes in a grimace. “That is never,” he began, a pained expression clouding his handsome face, “ever all that you could be to me, Major.” When he opened them again, his eyes were boring into yours, the blue gone cobalt in the growing night. “I’m not going to wake up one day and decide I want to be with Lily. I’ve had four years in close proximity with her for those feelings to develop, and they never have. I honestly can’t see why that would change, especially now that I’ve met you.”

God, you wanted to believe him, but you’d already played this role and it had nearly destroyed you, despite how nonchalantly you acted about it. “Does she know that, Bucky? Because, to be completely honest with you, on the night we met, both Nat and Wanda advised me not to get involved with you, because of her.”

His face blanched at the admission. “What?! Why would they say that?”

“They warned me,” you clarified, hoping that you weren’t betraying any trust with your new friends and only feeling mildly bad that you were divulging Lily’s secret, “that Lily wasn’t a ‘girl’s girl;’ she was a ‘Bucky’s girl,’ only, you didn’t know it.”

“But she–” he spluttered, “she– we– she never– she’s never said anything. She’s never acted…” He was at a loss for words, and you could tell that the information had genuinely taken him by surprise. Despite what Lily may feel for him, it didn’t seem like he ever suspected it.

“Maybe I should leave you to think that over,” you said, making motions to start standing up. “Thanks for the sandwich.” Before you could even get your legs under you, though, Bucky reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, gently tugging you back down to the blanket. “Why are you leaving?”

You shrugged, confused. “I figured you’d want some time,” you told him. “Decide what you want to do about her feelings.”

Bucky looked at you like you were crazy. “Doll, in what world do any feelings Lily may have about me concern how I feel about you?”

“I just assumed…” you began, but he interrupted you.

“Assumed what? That just because she’s got a crush on me, I’m gonna ignore this thing between you and I? That I’m gonna develop feelings for her, outta nowhere, I might add, and just forget all about you?”

You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. “Yeah, actually,” you said.

“You idiot,” Bucky said, shaking his head with a gentle smile and a soft laugh. He put a hand behind your head and pulled you forward until your foreheads were leaning together. “I sincerely mean this when I tell you I don’t give a fuck about Lily’s feelings,” he said.

You both widened your eyes at the perceived callousness of the statement.

“Fuck,” Bucky backpedaled, backing his head away from yours a little “that came out soundin’ awful, and definitely not how I meant it.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Of course I care about her feelings– she’s my friend– I just mean… shit. Just, obviously, I feel bad if me not reciprocatin’ hurts her, but there’s nothin’ I can really do for it, y’know? Because it doesn’t change my feelings, and it’s not gonna change my feelings.

And shit, you believed him.

“You know what?” Bucky said, as if an idea had suddenly come to him. “Here.” He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out his military dog tags. Lifting them over his head, he slowly draped them around your neck.

“Bucky,” you said, fingering the embossed metal, “what…?”

“Think of it this way,” he said, “you, of all people, know what these tags mean to a soldier. Since I came outta cryo, came back to myself, not a single person has worn them, ‘cept for me. I’ve had girlfriends ask– hell, Lily’s asked– but it never felt right.” He brushed a strand of hair back from where it had fallen into your face when you’d looked down at the tags. “But with you, it feels right. So, if you’re afraid that I’m gonna up and decide that I’d rather be with Lily, or fuck, anyone else but you, I want you to look at those tags and remember that you’re the one I’m picking, Major.”

You swallowed. You did know what those tags meant. Commitment. Trust. An unbreakable bond. Wordlessly, you reached around to the back of your neck, unclasping the chain that rested against your skin.

Bucky watched your motions carefully. “Yeah,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “that was probably me moving too fast, huh? I get it– you don’t have to wear them if—”

“Shut up,” you said gently, as you removed your own dog tags from around your neck and fastened them around his. “I don’t need to wear two sets, and your neck looked so lonely without one.”

Bucky held up one of the tags so that he could examine it, and you caught the moment he registered your name and information catching the candlelight.

“Sugar,” he said, his voice cracking on the nickname.

“You’re not the only one making a choice, Bucky,” you assured him.

He leaned in closer, taking your lips with his own, the kiss filled with the fire you’d come to associate with him, and only him.

When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, and you could make out the glassy sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

You admired the way they hung from his neck for a moment, and were overcome with the sudden urge to touch them. You placed a hand over the dog tags, your name, now resting over his pounding heart. Bucky cupped his own hand over yours, pressing it against his chest.

“These look awfully handsome on you, Sergeant,” you told him with a soft smile. Bucky let out a low groan and you looked up at him, eyes questioning. “What is it?” you asked him.

Bucky’s face turned bashful and he shook his head. “Nuh uh,” he said. “Forget it.”

Oh, you weren’t going to have any of that. “Come on, Bucky,” you said, playfully poking him in his rock hard stomach. “You can tell me anything. I’m wearing your tags now,” you added in a singsong voice. “We’re practically going steady.”

Bucky’s gaze on you darkened, and he tugged at his lip with his teeth. “Okay then, if you’re sure you really wanna know.” You mirrored him, biting your lip and nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to know what was going through his head to cause him to make such sexy sounds. “Just imagining what you’d look like wearing nothing but the tags, sugar,” he responded, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Bet it’d be the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Well, if you weren’t going to take that as an invitation. Raising an eyebrow in his direction, you got up so that you were standing before him. Bucky moved forward, as if he were going to follow you up, a question ready on his lips, but you leaned down and gently pushed him back to the blanket, so he was propping himself up on his elbows.

Not once breaking eye contact, you slid your hands to the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up, over your head before tossing it to the side. Next, you toed off your shoes while you worked the buttons of your jean shorts, letting them slide down your thighs until you were standing in just your balconette and panties. You didn’t even care that you were in the middle of a public park and you were undressing for a man. All that mattered was that you were undressing for this man, and in the moment, you were willing to do almost anything he asked of you.

Bucky’s eyes roamed your body from head to toe and back again, but you weren’t finished. He’d said ‘nothing but the tags,’ after all. Reaching behind your back, you skillfully unhooked your bra, but didn’t pull it off, instead letting it sit on your chest while you slowly shimmined your panties down your thighs and kicking them off to join the rest of your discarded clothes. Bucky’s breath hitched as he took in your near nakedness, and you almost giggled at the visible tenting taking place in his jeans.

Clutching the bra to your chest, as if you were shy, you slowly got down on your knees and crawled up Bucky’s thighs. Finally, you let the bra fall away, and Bucky’s wide eyes never left your breasts as he licked his lips. You palmed him through the fabric of his pants.

“I believe I once said something about wanting this down my throat,” you told him with a wicked smile.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 5 months ago

Text

Won't say I'm in love

Your friend asks about your crush and why you haven't confessed yet, so what is your reasoning

It's most of them but whatever

Jin

“Don't even think about pushing me to confess”

“Why not? He treats you so nice~” she lifts her fingers as she counts “bought you a few pairs of dresses for the gala, protected you in vagastorm, lent you a boat for a mission”

Tired you interrupt her with your reasons “First, I want to get married and I doubt he either wants to marry or he doesn't have already some arranged marriage type of deal” you lift two fingers as you refer to the two possibilities “and I think his dad would hate me, honestly” she rolls her eyes, knowing from what you told her he wouldn't really care what he thought.

“And your second excuse?”

You stay silent for a second but look into her eyes “And second, there is a non zero chance that he might be making me fall so I can potentiate his stigma” your friend pats your back, sensing how your mood went sour.

Kaito

“I do find his neediness cute! Yeah, chase after me and ask me my number and tell me I'm the prettiest in this school!” you clap your hands together and anchor them to your knees, looking like a businessman selling a hard proposal to shareholders “but that loses its charm when it's every other girl that looks at him, I like loser men when they are desperate for me, not in general”

Luca

“I like Luca, that is a fact, but he is already so burdened by search for his brother that I doubt he is even interested in romance or anything like that”

Your friend bites into her veggie sandwich and looks at you doubtful “and you don't want to try because you don't want the confirmation or are you a coward?”

Sighing into your hands you continue “and even if he was into romance and liked me back I wouldn't want to burden him with my curse”

“And you think you should be the only one deciding that?” she continues to judge you making you whine a little ‘i hate you’

Leo

“He is an asshole” you say plain and simple, making your friend launch forward holding her stomach “he isn't really that much nicer to Sho, who is his best friend, he is always pushing him around and ordering him to do things. Plus the bet he made with me makes it sound like he would never fall for me” your friend nods along to your reasoning “I think I'm happy enough being delulu when he grabs me as his girlfriend for his videos”

Sho

“He looks at you with so tenderly~ please you can't deny it”

“I mean he is very sweet and takes me on rides with Bonnie but there is just a little something that makes me uneasy” her head leans to the left curious “Ren told me he used to be a Casanova a few years back, that is making me a bit resistant to accepting my feelings”

She rolls her eyes, were you truly thinking so hard about his smack talk? “And you are taking his word for real? For all that you know he could be salty he isn't good at flirting”

“Given my situation I don't think I would be able to deal with a heartbreak right now”

Haru

“He is just so busy, working from the break of dawn to dusk, I would hate to give him the burden of a partner”

“Then why don't you ease his work a bit?”

“My only ability is potentiate stigmas, nothing that could help protect me, and there is a reason there aren't any general students in jabberwock. At most I could cook for them and feed peekaboo”

“And you aren't happy with helping him with that?”

You snort, fed up with her not understanding your point “I know Haru, he would overexert himself even more trying to be a good boyfriend”

Towa

“I mean…” you say jokingly after she asked you why you don't confess to Towa. She laughs in response “I'm just going to say that it almost feels like I'm fighting a war for his interest and the other party doesn care, yet I'm still losing” she laughs under her hand, trying to keep it down. You look at her seeking confirmation “doesn't it look like it? I gave him flowers and he fed me one and left to share with Haru the others”

“That even hurt me”

“So, yeah, not a very promising future even if he accepts my confession”

Ren

“Do you like charity cases or something?” her eyes widened, stunned, when you told her about your crush.

“Can't you be a little nicer? It isn't like I was going to confess for real”

“Why? I doubt he gets much romantic attention, he most likely would accept” you kick her under the table causing her to look at you offended.

“it's just that I already have a negative forecast for the end of this year and his negativity can be cute like, yeah keep bitching about the wifi speed, gamer boy” you laugh a little “but at some point it's tiring, like I want to hang out, can you not whine about the sun? It might be just another annoying day for him but it's one day less for me”

Taiga

You look at her as if she lost her mind. “You want me to confess to Taiga, Taiga Hoshibami, who can't even remember my name?”

“Maybe he will remember you if you give him matching trinkets” she rubs her shoulder against yours, playfully teasing about your crush.

“My goodness, it will be more likely that the cure is found so drop it”

“Well then let's bet, if Yuri finds you a cure you will have to confess, if he doesn't I won't” you whine about it but in the end accept.

Ritsu

A hand lays on your friend's shoulder making her turn “Yesterday I did as you told me and I asked him if he wanted to stay and drink coffee at my dorm after we did some work” your friend now looks interested at any update on your love life but looking at your face she already knows it isn't anything good “he looked me straight in the eye and deadpan said ‘Do you have something you want to consult with me? You already know my fee, right?’ I wanted to die of embarrassment!”

“Well, why not be more direct?”

“I told him two compliments, ‘you look so good in your suit today!’ and ‘the sinostra tie color makes your eyes pop’ and he looked at me weirdly” you rest your head on your friend's shoulder, her hand sliding up and down your back “and don't even propose being more direct because I'm so sure he would file for sexual harassment it isn't even funny” you both laugh at your despair

Rui

Your friend looks wide eyed at your refusal to

“He does flirt with me and makes me all giggly and my cheeks heat up, but he flirts as a joke with quite a few people so I might be misunderstanding the situation”

“The one who kills whatever he touches and the one who is going to die! Pretty matching curses if I say so myself, almost destiny” she elbows your ribs to attempt to make you laugh but rather she sees your hurt expression “ill timed joke. Sorry”

“You are so stupid”

Yuri

“Stop judging me!”

She looks at you oddly “is this something like reverse nightingale syndrome or something?” She teases “I personally can't really see what you see, he yells all the time and acts all high and mighty”

You gasp offended “that is not true! He was so vulnerable with me during one check up on mortkraken I just couldn't help my heart” you remember him telling you about how he wasn't able to help his mother get better and how guilty he felt because of it and almost implied he would make it up curing your curse “I just don't want to put more pressure on him to investigate and make him lose more sleep over it, it's one thing to lose a patient and another one to lose a significant other”

Jiro

“no but listen to me,” you tap her side with your hand “do I think Jiro is handsome physically? Yeah, very much. Do I think his personality is adorable and cute? Of course! Does that equal me confessing to him? As if!” your friend laughs and leans backwards while holding her stomach “he told me he had no attachment to food or clothing or whatever! Am I supposed to think he can have romantic feelings after that statement?” you exclaim waiting for any type of answer from your friend who only nods along, recognizing you had a point.

#tokyo debunker x reader #tokyo debunker #tdb

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volklana · 7 months ago

Text

Cursed Eyes Don't Lie

Request: Could you do something where in season 4 when they're escorting the children, that they encounter a woman on the travels they adopt into their band essentially to help with the children but she despises Sihtric because when he was one of Kjartans men he plundered her village and she never forgot him? Does that make sense and then somehow through all that angst make them fall in love?

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma associated with SA, I do not go into detail at all, it's just alluded to that it happened. If that isn't for you, please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx

For some parts I have replaced things that Eadith did in the show with reader.

It was Finan who had spotted the little flicker of a fire in the distance that he insisted on following, he and Sihtric leading the way until they were brought to the ruins of an old Roman building at the edge of the woods.

They shared an unsure look, with Uhtred who looked to Eadith for reassurance.

“The children are tired, we need rest,” she urged and so he nodded at his companions to proceed.

They crept forward, up along the ridge of the broken ruins to try and decipher how many men were camped inside but to their shock and amusement they could only make out the silhouette of one woman, warming herself beside the fire, completely unaware that she was being watched.

“Just a woman?” Uhtred tilted his head in shock.

“I should go first,” Eadith offered, “If a band of men wander in demanding refuge you may startle her.”

Uhtred nodded in agreement and so Eadith made her way inside the ruins, ensuring to drag her feet a little to announce her arrival.

You swung around dagger in hand ready to attack and paused when she raised her hands in surrender, but not putting down your dagger.

“Please, I am with a group traveling with children, all I ask is that we may share your fire for the night. No harm will come upon you and we will leave at first light in the morning.”

You looked behind her to the small band of warriors and children clinging to their sides.

“I have no provisions or food, but there is a stream, you may wish to bath and collect water from,” you finally relented, placing your dagger back into its sheath around your waist and allowing them to pile in around the heat of the fire, while one of them announced they would try to hunt some food.

Introductions were made and you shared a little of your water with the children, while still remaining a little cautious of the men in the group. Eadith came to sit by your side and she bumped you gently with her arm.

“I know why you are wary. Us women have no choice but to be wary but I assure you these are some of the best men I have ever known, you have no reason to be worried. I promise you.”

“If you had seen the things I had seen lady you would be wary too,” was your only reply but you were reassured enough to loosen your guard.

Eventually as dusk was beginning to turn into the night the last of the men, the Dane Sihtric returned with two rabbits much to the cheer of his friends who immediately set about preparing them to cook while Finan, you had learned was his name, brought more wood to keep the fire going.

You went down to the stream to collect more water to give to the little Aelfwynn who seemed to be struggling the most with the conditions of the road, so much so you had parted with your furs for the night in an attempt to keep her warmer.

Uhtred’s man Sihtric, the Dane was washing his hands and face in the river and so you moved more upstream to collect the water.

You eyed him suspiciously, as he bathed but when he turned to face you, two mismatched eyes set a fire burning in your stomach and before you had time to think your actions through, you flung the animal hide you were using to store water with at him and it connected to his chest with a thud, as you fumbled for your dagger.

Your chest rose and fell in fury as you seethed, and he put his arms up in surrender, face a mixture of terror and confusion.

“You were one of Kjartan’s men, do not deny it!” you spat.

“Lady please,” he begged but made no move to stop you pressing the dagger to his neck.

“You sacked my village. You murdered my family.”

Sihtric’s eyes swam with emotion, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed.

“Please, it was a different life, I had no choice.”

“No I had no choice,” you spat “No choice but to endure while your men took what they wanted from my village and from…me,” you refused to look away at the last part, the shame was on them and not on you and you refused to allow it to shame you now.

“And when I think back on that day I see your eyes. Eyes of the devil looking down on me, leaving me there amongst the burning embers of my life. I swore I would never forget those eyes. I have cursed those eyes and I would have my revenge one day.”

There were tears in the Danes' eyes and you did not care.

“Then have your revenge, I won’t try to stop you. But know this,” he pleaded “I never willingly served Kjartan a day in my life, all I did was to survive his cruelty. He killed my mother, he would have killed me too had I not proven myself useful as a warrior but I never ever relished in destruction. And I never forced myself upon any woman, not then, and not now and I have served Lord Uhtred faithfully, especially since he killed my father.”

You cocked your eyebrow in curiosity and Sihtric sighed.

“I am Kjartan’s bastard,” he spat “And the world is a better place for him not being in it.”

You hated yourself for loosening your hold on the dagger ever so slightly, but Sihtric made no move to escape, “I am sorry for what you have endured at the hands of the men I was with, and for my part in it. I will receive punishment in whatever way you see fit.”

You pushed the knife further into his skin again, watching a trickle of blood run down his neck to his collarbone and disappearing under his vest, tears pooling in your own eyes.

“I’ve waited for this day for years. Night after night remembering those eyes, imagining what I would do when I had you in my grasp, it is what kept me going all these years, and now I’m here and I can’t do it. I can’t do it,” you cried, dropping your dagger at your feet.

You stood facing each other for an eternity, chests rising and falling, looking into each other’s eyes, before Sihtric knelt down before you, “On Thor’s hammer I offer you my protection for as long as you will allow it. Travel with us, the road is no place for a woman on her own and I will never allow any wrong to fall upon you at the hands of another man again. This I swear until you release me.”

You examined those two mismatched eyes once again, ones that had many moons ago offered you his hand and pulled you from the table you were hiding under, pressing an apple into your hand as he gathered the few possessions he had plundered, and watching you with sad eyes before he mounted his horse.

“Coward,” you had roared after him, in the midst of your burning village, but now it was you who was the coward.

You considered him carefully, and could see that he was sincere.

“I accept the offer of your protection. But make one unwanted move on me and I will have your balls for earrings,” you promised.

He couldn’t help but smile as he rose, and you ordered him to pick up the discarded hide of water to bring back to the camp, which he hastily fumbled for.

“And the curse?” he shouted trying to catch up to you.

“Remains until I see fit to lift it,” was all you offered, not giving him the chance to fall in step with you.

“What happened to your neck?” Finan asked as you walked back together.

“Ah, must have nicked in on a branch,” Sihtric dismissed but Finan warily eyed the dagger on your waist, and you cocked an eyebrow in challenge but thankfully he let it go.

You tossed and turned but could not find sleep. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see were Sihtric’s eyes. Those mismatched eyes you had grown so accustomed to hating. Sympathetic eyes, pulling you from your hiding place of fear and smoothing you down but making no attempt to force himself on you. And accepting eyes as you held a dagger to his throat, willing to allow you to hurt him, this made you feel more conflicted than you had in years.

Sihtric in turn could not sleep. He had earned two black eyes and a swollen lip once Tekil had informed Kjartan that he had refused to take his turn with you, but he could never admit that to you now. You had said you had cursed his eyes and maybe you had, Sihtric was no fool, he had seen the damage a curse could cause, maybe his curse was to have found the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and never be granted the opportunity to earn her love. To see her but never to touch or hold.

The next morning Finan woke everyone up and the scramble to collect everything began.

Sihtric was by your side in an instant as the camp made to leave.

“She comes with us,” he announced, causing Finan and Uhtred to step toward him in bewilderment, “She comes with us. She comes with me.” was all he offered in terms of explanation and began walking, to which you simply followed behind.

Life on the road the next few days were a blaze of walking as far as possible in the light and hunkering down for the night wherever Uhtred deemed safe. Finan and Sihtric always took the nightwatch whilst you and Eadith tended to the children. Little Athelstan had taken a real shine to you, always opting to sleep by your side or holding your hand in the dark, but by day he only ever wanted to be by Finan’s side.

“Horses!” Uhtred warned and you all took to running. Sihtric grasped your hand in his.

“Keep running,” he urged, pulling you alongside him and you grasped his hand for dear life running as fast as you could. Only halting when you nearly fell into the lake with bodies of the dead from the sickness, Sihtric gripping you to stop you falling in.

Deciding against Sihtric’s suggestion to swim through, you had no option but to surrender to Eardwulf and his men’s approach, Sihtric ushered you behind him, one hand in front of you in an attempt to protect you.

“Protect the children with your lives,” Uhtred commanded as Eardwulf’s men dismounted their horses and you reached for your dagger, while Sihtric gave his own dagger to Athelstan.

As Edith revealed the truth of her brother’s treachery and he fled away into exile, Sihtric once again took your hand in his, squeezing it gently three times, for reassurance.

At Wollerton, you found horses and provisions for the next part of your journey, Eadith and Osferth were to remain with Aelfwynn, to try keep her alive, and Young Uhtred and Sihtric were to find Aethelflaed, you lingered awkwardly for a moment having received no orders.

“You will ride with me?” Sihtric announced but it was more like a question, and you nodded, before mounting his horse and he climbed on behind you. You were both awkward with the proximity, you wanted to put more space between you two but Sihtric’s strong arms encased you and in the end you had to relent to the fact that you could not escape his touch.

“Woah,” Sihtric jolted forward to catch you, it had been hours worth of riding and you hadn’t felt yourself falling asleep, but Sihtric caught you before you fell from the horse.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled feeling embarrassed.

“It’s okay I’ve got you,” he shushed “We will rest soon I promise, but lay your head back on me, that way you can close your eyes and I’ll keep a stronger hold on you,” and even though you didn’t want to, exhaustion overruled and you obeyed as his left arm locked around your waist.

He tried to ignore the hammering of his heart and for a long time he wouldn’t allow himself to look at your peaceful face, but when he did his breath caught in his throat and he had to force himself to look ahead again.

When you finally caught up to Aethelflaed and Sihtric relayed the news, you were almost dead on your feet.

Sihtric agreed to take Aethelflaed to where Osferth and Eadith were caring for Aelfwynn, and you delayed a moment.

“Leave me here,” you urged, “I will slow you down.”

“No,” Sihtric shook his head furiously, “I will not leave without you.”

“Sihtric,” you sighed.

“No y/n I am sworn to you and I will not abandon you. Where you go, I go.”

You knew him just well enough to know you were not going to win this battle so reluctantly you climbed back onto his horse.

When you finally reached Aegelesburgh to the news that Uhtred was to be named the Lord of Mercia, Sihtric went to go drinking with Finan and Osferth, but you went to catch some sleep. Promising you would meet him in the alehouse afterwards.

You arrived to a very solemn, very quiet group of soldiers, lamenting the fact that Uhtred had given up his chance to rule Mercia. Stiorra moved up a space to allow you to sit beside Sihtric and he bumped you reassuringly with his shoulder despite his sour mood. Finan returned with two jugs of ale and Eadith and you all settled into a heavy night of drinking. So much so that when the time came to depart for bed Osferth was sick outside and you were unsteady on your feet, so much so that you had linked arms with Finan while he sang some merry tune. Sihtric could not deny the fiery jealousy that was burning in his stomach as he watched you walk ahead.

He watched you throw your head back in laughter as the Irish man spun you around, “I’m going to slip,” you giggled and the sound was devastating to Sihtric, he would never make you laugh like that, and you would never allow yourself to be this carefree around him. Forever, you would be guarded and wary of him. That was the real curse.

He huffed and stormed past you both, refusing a glance at you both and you scoffed “What’s up his arse?”

“Can’t you tell?” Finan laughed “He’s soft on you and in all fairness I’ve been hogging you all night.”

It was like you were sober in that instant. Sihtric was developing feelings for you and you had sworn to hate him forever.

You couldn’t sleep, and you certainly couldn’t stay, so you made up your mind to leave at first light. You would gather enough provisions to make it on your own. Your heart was sad because you had grown accustomed to the company, to Sihtric in particular. His reassuring touches, his gentleness and the way his eyes seemed to always be on your. Those eyes. “Curse those eyes,” you spat but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to mean it.

At first light you began to pack your things together and startled when a gentle knock on your door pulled your focus away from the task.

You opened it fully surprised to see Sihtric standing sheepishly outside.

“We’ve been tasked with escorting the Lady Aelswith safely on her way to Bedwyn- Are you going somewhere?” he asked eyes frantically inspecting the items on your bed.

“I’m leaving, yes.” you answered defiantly.

“Leaving?” he rushed “But where will you go? Why are you leaving? I am sworn to you. We should stay together, no?”

“You are sworn to Lord Uhtred, you go wherever he commands,” you quipped.

“No. No!” he huffed stepping foot into your room before you come stop him, “You can’t leave, where will you go? Back on the road? I won’t allow it!”

“You won’t allow it?” you scoffed “And what on earth makes you think you have any say in what I do or where I go?”

“I have sworn myself to you, on Thor, until you release me, or have you forgotten? Your safety is everything to me. All I have done is try to keep you safe. Can you not see that?”

“If your concern is your oath I release you, there you are free from your bond and I am free to take leave of you,” you turned on your heel and began hastily pushing things into your travel bag.

“You would dismiss me so easily?” Sihtric sounded crestfallen, his mind was scrambling a thousand miles a minute trying to comprehend what was happening and trying to find something, anything to say to make you stay.

“Sihtric, I’m not entirely sure what you think we are to each other. Did you think us friends? Lovers? I never agreed to either of those.”

“So what if I did love you, y/n is that so terrible? I have tried in so many ways to show you that I am not the man you thought I was. But you are intent on hating me forever aren’t you? It’s hopeless, I will always be the heathen who plundered your village to you. Nothing more.”

Your heart was pounding in your ears because it was quite the opposite, you could not hate him.

“It is hopeless,” you repeated, “And you should not be prevailed upon to look at someone you love, who does not love you back every day.”

“Could you,” he looked down at his feet, unable to meet your eyes, “Could you not love me, some day?”

You wanted to burst into tears right there and then, throw yourself into his arms and tell him you loved him already, Sihtric could see your resolve melting and it was enough to spur him on, he took your hand in his and squeezed it three times. You had long suspected he did it to reassure himself more than you and this moment confirmed it.

“Sihtric, how could we ever be?” you cried “Look at how we began. I can’t look into your eyes and promise you that I will never not harbour resentment for what I went through at the hands of your men.”

“And I can never make that up to you, even though I would give my life to do it,” he replied. You sniffled and allowed him to pull you to him as he embraced you tightly.

“Let me go Sihtric,” you mumbled against his skin, “Let me go as I have released you,” he nodded slowly and when you broke apart you noticed there were tears in his eyes.

“I lift my curse,” you nodded, tears falling from your own eyes“Go forward and know that I wish you no more ill.”

Sihtric looked into your eyes for what felt like hours, before finally with a firm nod he departed your room and you briefly considered running after him before making your mind up resolutely to let him go, for his own good.

And so you departed Aegelesburgh before Uhtred’s band had even gathered their belongings to leave.

After you had been walking for hours, you came across a band of Danes, careful to jump off the road and remain among the trees but it was unmistakable, a hoard of Danes were making their way along the road you had just traveled and it did not sit right in your stomach.

“How much further to Winchester?” one of them complained and your stomach dropped.

Uhtred and Sihtric were going to walk right into this trap and without even thinking your actions through you took to running back in the direction you came from, you were hoping against hope you could intercede them and warn them before the Danes got to them. Your heart racing in your mouth with each step, if something happened to Sihtric and you never got to tell him how you felt you would never forgive yourself.

You had lost track of the Danes along the road, but you no longer heard them and that worried you immensely. Still you ran as fast as your legs would allow you. Until you came to the remains of what would have been a camp for the night and you carefully made your way among the trees, you had to cover your mouth with your own hand to stop yourself screaming at the sight in front of you, hanging upside down from a tree was Uhtred, Finan, Osferth, Father Pyrlig and Sihtric. You had to fight the urge to be sick, but they were guarded by two Danes you did not have a hope of defeating alone, so you needed to act quickly, it didn’t help that you could visibly see Sihtric was not doing well and he was in trouble.

Everyone startled at the bloodcurdling scream they heard from within the forest, and when it was followed by another more pained, one of the Danes went to inspect.

You made quick work of him with your dagger, stabbing furiously until you were sure he was dead and then you stole his ax, and silently crept back up to the camp, avoiding the second Dane who ran into the woods calling his friends name.

“Y/n, quickly, go to Sihtric!” Uhtred urged in surprise and you made quick work of the binds tying his hands together, trying your best not to panic as his arms hung limp beside his head, and then you swung wildly at the rope tying his feet, grunting under the strain as Finan shouted words of encouragement, as he fell you grapsed his face in your hands “You’re alright, you’re alright,” you assured but Uhtred shouted for you to release Pyrlig and so you sprung into action while Sihtric attempted to regain composure.

As you were working on Pyrlig, the second Dane returned and you watched Sihtric grapple with him and when you finally released Pyrlig the two of them took him down, Sihtric stabbing wildly until he Dane finally fell.

You made quick work of Osferth, Finan and finally Uhtred.

When all were finally free you ran to Sihtric graping him into your embrace.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” you kept repeating while he placed kisses to your head and face, anywhere his lips could land. “It’s alright, I’m alright,” he repeated in between kisses.

But you did not have time to revel in the moment as Uhtred had commanded you all to run, the Danes had Stiorra and you were going to make the journey on foot to Winchester, and so you found yourself hand clasped in Sihtric’s once more running through fields in an attempt to keep up.

Not stopping once until you reached Winchester, but Sihtric never once let go of your hand.

When you volunteered yourself to go in disguise to check on the captives, Sihtric wanted to be sick. If the Danes in Winchester were preparing for a siege you were going to be stuck inside but you were certain on your path.

And you surprised even yourself with the gumption you had found, as the guards cleared you to enter the city.

But it did not take long before you found yourself in Haeston’s hands as you had tried to enter the castle using Eardwulf’s execution as a distraction. The moment he grasped you, you knew you were in trouble.

“What do you want with me?” you cried as he dragged you across the courtyard but you already knew what he wanted, as he pulled you up to the loft of a building and you prayed that you would have no need to use your dagger on him, because you would in a heartbeat.

Thirty days passed under Haeston's control with the city under siege. He tried each night to lay with you for the first two weeks but each night you rebuked him with warnings of gouging out his eyes whilst he slept. He brought you morsels of whatever food he could find and as you weakened, he relished in your lack of strength. He was the worse kind of predator, the one who strikes only when the prey is too weak to defend itself, but you would not allow yourself to become his prey.

But when he frantically came up to grab you, telling you the battle had come, that he did not want to face it, your heart hammered excitedly at the prospect of seeing Sihtric again.

He pulled you along until you finally found your strength lashing out at him until he relented and released you.

“Stay here and you will die,” he spat and you stood fast.

“Die then ungrateful bitch,” he shot before turning his back and fleeing.

You ended up in the midst of the fighting, with only your dagger for protection, but in the chaos you fell and were being trampled on, worsened when both sides shouted for a shield wall. It was Finan who had heard your groans of pain, breaking the shield wall in order to pick you up and carry you to safety.

As soon as the negotiations began Sihtric was by your side, mismatched eyes searching every part of your body for injury.

“My love,” he cried “Oh my love,”

“Sihtric,” you mumbled, allowing him to pull you to him, you hand flew up to trace the scar on his face and you ran your thumb across his lips “Your eyes that I have cursed a thousand times were the only thing that kept me going. Each night I would dream about your eyes and I would find the strength to endure. I was wrong to tell you I could not love you Sihtric, you are the only man I could ever love,” you cried and he shushed you, gently bringing his lips down to meet yours and you whimpered at his gentleness.

That night you stayed with Sihtric. He tended to your wounds with delicate hands and shaking fingers. He was afraid that you were going to disappear at any moment, but he stilled all actions when he felt you begin to cry in his arms.

“My love? Did I hurt you?” he almost shrieked and you shook your head vehemently.

“I was so wrong about you, Sihtric. I feel I’ve been cruel. I shouldn’t have tried to dismiss your feelings back in Aegelesburgh.”

“None of that matters,” Sihtric shushed you, cupping your face in his rough, tattooed hands “What matters is you know how I feel about you, and you know that I am yours for as long as you want me.”

“I want you forever,” you cried, placing your own hands over his, and turning your face to press your lips to the palm of his right hand.

He was gentle laying you down on the bed, pressing sweet wet kisses to every inch of skin that became exposed to him as he undressed you, and you eagerly pulled his clothes until they too were a discarded mess on the floor.

Sihtric’s groans were delicious in your ear and the gentle pace he set, had you gasping for air as he teased you.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you panted and Sihtric’s mismatched eyes, flashed to yours in worry “I reinstate my curse on your eyes,”

“Oh yeah?” Sihtric laughed rolling his hips with a flick that had you gasping.

“I curse them to only love me for all your life,” you grinned, trailing your hands along the sides of his torso.

“In that case I am happy to be cursed love,” he grinned, picking up speed and not relenting until you came apart in his hands, finally reaching his own high as he bit down on your shoulder.

“I will love you from here to Valhalla," he panted "And cursed eyes don't lie,” he chuckled before collapsing down beside you.

Tagging: @canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon @acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtricsmut #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #volklana writes

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candywrithee · 2 months ago

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R ur requests open??? Can I please get a gender bent Rarity, Applejack, and Twilight x fem (or gn if you don't do fem specifically) Pegasus reader headcanons pretty please 🥺 idk if you do NSFW but if you don't I don't mind just fluff

Please I'm desperate🙏🙏 ❤️❤️❤️✨✨❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏

Aight. No gender mentioned really :P

Dusk Shine, Elusive & Applejack w/a Pegasus Reader

1. Dusk Shine + Reader

Unicorn! Dusk will probably be annoyed if you're the type to prank him just because you can fly. But what you didn't know is that he just lets you prank him. You should know that by a spark of his magic, he can easily stop your pranks but he loves you too much that he loves to see you smile.

If you don't mind, can you help him carry or deliver things for him? Of course that is if you don't mind. He's just a little busy so he would appreciate your help in any way. Even if sometimes you have to convince HIM to let you help. He's a loner, he's used to being alone but then you swoop in into his personal space and he doesn't know what to do.

Alicorn! Dusk is a little more open. He still likes being alone but now he doesn't mind or grumble to anypony wanting to hang out with him. Therefore, you are more than allowed to be more lovey dovey with him just as long as you know how to limit them. He's still a little shy.

Now that he has wings, you two can fly together now! Which lead to a lot of fun small races against each other. More than once, ponies of equestria can see blurs of two different colours in the sky and Rainbow Blitz interrupting y'all to join in the race.

Overall, whichever Dusk is, he still loves you in his own interesting way.

"DUUUUUSK JUST LET ME HELP!"

"Fine but don't complain when you're in the middle of doing it." He proceeds to hang you books and scrolls in a bag and kiss your forehead because he's not brave to kiss your cheek.

2. Elusive + Reader

Drama King and his unbothered lover or his whipped lover. Whichever dynamic you prefer.

Hope you don't mind dolling up for him. As soon as you step into his boutique, you getting dragged immediately to dress up. You're a perfect model to test out outfits for pegasuses. However if you told him to stop, he'll stop. He knows boundaries, he has them himself. Plus, he loves you.

He'll probably ask you to help him deliver and fetch things for him. No need to ask if you could help. You probably help him immediately if you noticed how panicked his state is in. Don't worry! He'll give you a kiss or an outfit when you've done your duty! Whichever you wanted more or comfortable with.

His little brother, Poppet Bell, loves you! Can you carry him? Bring him up to fly?? PLEEEEEEEEEEAAAAASEEE! If you gave into his puppy eyes, you'd make Elusive worried sick. Please don't fall or let his brother fall, as if you would.

"My dear, you truly gave me a scare when I suddenly saw you up with Poppet while I was in the market... Why did you even do that?"

"I succumbed to his puppy dog eyes hehe."

"Goodness my dear."

3. Applejack + Reader

Oh wow you're helpful for the farm. Is what applejack thinks at first. Please don't be mad at him, his whole life is contributed to his farm and family. But hey! At least you're now part of his family.

He won't force you into work (he also needs a little convincing) but if you did help him, you'd be too focused in what you're helping with to notice how he looks at you with basically apple hearts in his eyes. You had to find that out when Apple Buck gave pretended to vomit which embarrassed Applejack greatly. Macareina even told you that Applejack looks you the way their father looks at their mom, absolutely whipped. Don't even get me started on Grandpa Smith.

If you want, you can try racing against him like that one fall episode. He'll easily beat you or if you're very athletic, you can excel or match his pace. Either way, he'll comfort you and/or be proud of you.

"Can you help collect that side of the farm, sugar cube? It's okay if you don't want to hun."

"We talk about thiss.. I'll help you with anything you ask for!"

"Thank you sugar. I'm still not use to asking for help.."

"Bleugrh can you two lovebirds get back to apple picking already?!" You and Applejack proceed to laugh at Apple Buck's disgusted face but Applejack's laugh is more bashful.

#mlp genderbend #my little pony #genderbend #mlp fim #mlp x reader #my little pony x reader #mlp #x reader #my little pony genderbend #genderbend mlp #dusk shine #elusive #applejack

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pinguwrites · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023 | Day One — William Killick + dub-con

Pairing -> dom!william killick x wife!reader

Warnings -> DARK!!, smut (minors dni), dub-con bc reader isn't in the mindset to properly consent

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

“Please,” your husband said, but it didn’t sound like a plead, rather a last chance for you to give in. “It’ll be quick — I promise.”

You shook your head, trying to find some subtle way to get out of his grasp. “No, William. I mean it.”

Today had been a long day of cleaning and cooking for you. From dawn to dusk, you were busy with overdue chores and garden work, phone calls and errands. Not to mention, a few of your friends stopped by unexpectedly and decided to stay still evening — which you didn’t mind, but it did leave you with more work, and a mind that could only think of sleep.

When William came home you were hoping to finally rest, snuggle up with him in bed, and have him hold you tight, but the moment he walked through that front door you could see his darkened eyes. They were still sweet, of course, they always were, but they were filled with lust. You knew right then and there that you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight, no matter how much you begged — he was your husband, and if he wanted to take you then he would.

William sighed. “Darling, don’t fight it.” He ran his fingers through your hair. “I’ll lay you down on the bed, and all you’ll have to do is relax and take it.”

“William,” you protested, but it was weak. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m not asking if you want it, I’m asking you to be nice,” he responded, still running his fingers through your hair. He stopped and then started tracing your lower lip, pushing his finger in your mouth a little so he could make it wet. “Now, will you let me fuck you? Will you let a husband fuck his wife?”

William had this habit of convincing you to do things he wanted. If you didn’t want to go for a walk, he’d sigh and tell you how lonely it would be by himself, if you were angry with him after a fight, he would place wild rose petals in the house and bake cookies until you couldn’t help but smile.

You allowed it because he was a good husband. He always stayed with you through your ups and downs, he dotted on you when you were sick, and throughout your years of marriage he never once made you doubt him. He was loyal and faithful and romantic, and even though he could be a bit forceful at times, you loved him, and you knew he loved you.

“Okay. But be gentle,” you relented, too sleepy to argue.

William hesitated at the word ‘gentle’, but then hummed a ‘yes’ and led you over to your bed. You lay down and put a pillow under your hips, spreading your legs with a bend.

William eagerly took off your panties and slid a finger through your folds. You weren’t as wet as he wanted, so he gave a few kisses and licks to your pussy to turn you on.

It worked. Your eyes fluttered shut as he continued to eat you out, soft moans leaving your mouth. If he continued going you would surely fall asleep, maybe dream of his head between your legs once or twice, but then he stopped, and you whined.

You opened your eyes, confused and desperate for more, when he pushed his cock in with a swift thrust and start gently moving in and out of you.

He groaned and captured your lips in a kiss, placing his body over yours. The air was a bit cold, so his body heat was a welcoming touch. You let him drape himself all over you as though he were a blanket, his hands roaming your tits and stomach and thighs as he fucked you.

“Good,” he murmured, breath ticking your ear. “So good.”

It stayed like this for a while, both of you moving in tandem. There were little moans and low whispers, words of affection and love. You were well and truly about to fall asleep, ready to let him take care of you, but then he started to pick up the pace, enough so that his balls were slapping against your skin and your tits were bouncing.

“W-William, slow down,” you insisted, but he only shook his head and started to pound into you faster. “I’m gonna be sore!”

He didn’t listen to your words, you weren’t even sure if he could hear them anymore. “I — ah — love you, love you so much.”

The bed was starting to shake. He wouldn’t stop, even when you tried to push him off you.

“Slow,” you choked out. “Slow!”

He finally heard you. “No,” he growled. “Relax and take it. Take it.”

With no choice but to obey, you did as he asked. You loosened your tense muscles and closed your eyes, letting him fuck you into the night. In the end, William always got what he wanted.

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

#william killick #william killick x reader #william killick x you #william killick x y/n #cillian murphy #fanfiction #the edge of love #pinguwrites #kinktober masterlist #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 3 months ago

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i promised ... and i owe ... so many of you thoughts on xavier's "no restraint" card..... SO HERE IT IS, UNDER THE CUT !! i ramble a lot so it's very long 🫶🫶

(this was so hard guys. this card was a whole entire shock factor.)

first of all...... please delight in this reaction image i can offer you. because. any of you who are reading this rn know exactly which part of the card i'm referring to when i say:

(in conclusion, my legs are open)

.. ANYWAY !!!!!!!!! CLEARS THROAT

things we're going to talk about? well, it's me, so (A) character development, (B) relationship development, but also (C) WHATEVER THE HELL WENT ON IN THAT KINDLED MOMENTS SSCENE <3

(A-1) Character Development; Xavier

over the past few cards we've been having of him, i think it's safe to say that we're familiar with a number of his mannerisms, and i've also talked about a lot why that is and what goes into that.

but a lot of it changes in this card. and it's so much more than just the moment of realization he has in 21 days, too. enough that—aside from what we know eventually takes place—we can safely assume that all this occurs after that card chronologically.

exhibit a; tendency to do things on his own.

this is something that i may not have talked about as much, but i'm pretty sure we all know it's there—that xavier has always carried this tendency to do things all on his own. there's multiple examples of this, and it goes way way way back to his anecdotes.

i.e. with "passing by" and "when shooting stars fall", we already have prime examples—

"Whether it's tasks assigned by the higher-ups or senior members, Xavier always completes them quickly and methodically. He works until they're done, but nothing more."

"Xavier stands alone amidst a circle of fallen bodyguards. In the corner, Lawrence is tied up with bed sheets, his neck at an odd angle."

"I notice the wounds on his hands and face. Catching his breath, he holds out his hand, showing me a small, glowing Protocore. This is the first time he's looked at me with desperation in his eyes. When he moves closer, I notice a ring of light around his neck. It's a striking, suffocating red."

in his lightseeker myth, too, he's also the one to take the initiative and look for an alternative to philos' sacrifice. he leaves mc behind, and he leaves jeremiah behind—it isn't until later that he's able to enlist the help of others and form the backtrackers, and even then, they all recognize that he's the most capable one among them. in fact, it's also evident in "from the stars" from world underneath:

"As the leader of the Backtrackers ... Asteroids, turbulence, and the collapse of wormholes couldn't tear Traceback ll's team apart. With Xavier there, they managed to break through the universe's most impregnable spacetime barrier."

"It seems like everyone had a reason to give up and leave halfway except you. Well, you did too, but you wouldn't because no one could replace you. We all thought that you'd still make it to the end, even if you were the only one left."

in the main story, we're also faced with multiple scenarios of xavier going off on his own to do hunter duties, or otherwise a little extra in order to find the protocore that he needs—"heartstring symphony" is also proof of that.

and lumiere's myth is no different, nor is the whole legend behind lumiere in the first place.

"Xavier is missing. He didn't show up on the set, and there was no sign of him at home either ... Since then, I've never received a Wanderer alert on my watch again. Just like Xavier predicted, the dark clouds gradually dispersed, and the heavy rain slowly became a gentle drizzle until it ceased completely. Breathtaking evening clouds replaced them. Dusk falls, accompanied by millions of glittering lights creating a spectacular meteor shower. Long streaks reminiscent of contrails are etched across the sky. Meanwhile, the newest updates are being broadcast repeatedly on the massive screen in the heart of Azure Square. The previously rampant Wanderers have disappeared overnight, leaving behind only some suspicious Protocores ... The doomsday panic, which overtook the city like an inflating balloon, shatters silently as if pierced by a pin."

"Right on cue, my watch loudly sounds the alarm, and I hear the roars of Wanderers from the flames. At that moment, Xavier vanishes, and a beam of light with as much force as a rainbow piercing through sunshine cuts through the collapsed, burning factory. In the blink of an eye, he leaps out of the raging fire, his sword still coated in Metaflux that has yet to dissipate."

"'Threat levels are at least A. I have to go—' 'Stay here. I'll be right back.' Xavier pushes down my shoulder, and a strange red light around his neck is quickly concealed by his collar."

"The red light on Xavier's neck flickers wildly. He swings his weapon, sending out a lightblade to kill the remaining, struggling Wanderer. Smoke created by the dissipated energy rises in all directions. He leans against the wall, trying to steady his wobbling form after the intense battle. 'Abnormal vital signs have been detected. Excessive use of Evol. Disengage from combat immediately and receive treatment...' Xavier turns off the annoying warning on his watch and lifts his gaze to the entrance of an alley, where several shadows are closing in on him."

moreover is the fact that from world underneath, we also know that his collar acts as a suppressor:

"'...Light Evol has been detected. Evolver's Evol limit cannot be defined.' 'Any attempts to probe its limit triggers a special neck suppressor, which prevents the Evolver from using their full power.'"

and yet despite that, he still continues to do what he does, anyway.

a lot of things play into it, and i talk a lot about how his upbringing as a prince must have largely contributed to habits like this. he's used to doing things on his own, and he's expected to, in a way—all the burdens and duties placed upon him the moment he was born, when he bever had any say in it. already in his "when shooting stars fall" anecdote, he's isolated from everyone and constantly surrounded by bodyguards, and mc acted as his only source of freedom by reaching for him past that barrier.

it's also worth noting that most (if not all) of this that he's been doing, is all and always for mc, too—as if it comes back full cycle. it's how he shows his love for her, because it's really the only way he knows how to.

which also brings attention to his always and ever highlighted communication issues—because common in all of these examples up until this card, is that he's been vague about it.

never giving the full answer.

never truly explaining what he's been up to.

and it's something that mc knows; he keeps his secrets well, and they've never really truly talked about these things.

but "no restraint" plays this out a little differently.

"Even though I still want to ask him about where he went, it's only a matter of time before more of Henrik's men arrive. Escaping is our main priority."

And yet;

"I realized I was being followed, which is why I didn't contact you. I managed to shake them off, but I was concerned they might catch up to me. That's why I searched for the Protocore by myself."

—"Why are you suddenly talking about this?"

"...No reason."

xavier willingly explains.

mc doesn't particularly ask—yet he says it anyway. to clear the air, to maybe make it known that he is putting in an effort.

in this situation, he hasn't derived from his habit of going off on his own, but he provides a good explanation of it. there's mediation; he's saying that he trusts her, and he wants to ensure that there is nothing for her to be worried about.

"I just wanted to say I'm not the kind of partner who would leave you behind... I'm also not one of those young people who take things for granted, either."

and he further willingly explains when she does probe him, replying with a reflection of the excuse she gave one of the bodyguards just to be able to get information out of him.

BUT, MOSTLY—

"i know you know" is xavier directly addressing the fact that their relationship has been curated around this trust that they've been starting to build with each other—he knows that mc was not exactly doubting him, yet he wanted to reassure her anyway, as if speaking it out loud makes it official.

sometimes you don't ask for reassurance because you know in your heart that your doubts aren't real. but receiving it never hurts—and that's how this plays out.

xavier has always known that communication has always been an issue with him.

he's willing to fix it, and willing to take that extra step to make sure mc doesn't feel unloved with him. he doesn't want to leave room for doubts.

"i know you know." i know you know i will never leave you, i know you know that i love you. i know you know, but i'll say it anyway. because i mean it. and you don't have to worry.

(LIKE DO YOU GUYS GET HOW IMPORTANT THIS LINE IS? 😭 HOW MUCH IT SAYS FOR THE EXTENT TO WHICH HE TRULY LOVES HER? 😭)

exhibit b; aloofness.

we also know that, while xavier can be pretty intense with regards to the previous point, he's always had this calm, easygoing, aloof nature to him. as if he could fade into the background, as if he's simply floating around like a little cloud—there's this aura around him that simply wants to just... be.

but, again, it's almost as if so much more hides underneath that. like it's not totally 100% inherently him. like it's not entirely natural, like the part of him that's like this is maybe somewhat a façade that he's been putting up for so long, so it's just ended up... becoming part of him, by force of habit.

there are so many subtleties to the way he seems to try to express himself—the little things. microexpressions. involuntary emotional leakage. they last for a fragment of a second, but they're there, and with xavier, they seem to always convey so much more than whatever words he can muster.... because he always finds himself short of doing it in the way he wants to.

again, it goes back to his communication issues.

he's used to being isolated. used to speaking eloquently as he does only when required, but never really quite knowing how to express affection. or, again, how to express himself in general.

"it's like he's just so used to being princely, that he can't let go of it even if he isn't a prince anymore. he wants to, but old habits die hard—he hides so much beneath that exterior still, and it's mc who's able to help him tear down those walls, mc who's able to make him want to try harder to."

and it's why we've always seen this push and pull with him. he has trouble being honest about his feelings, difficulties in telling mc he loves her, difficulties in being direct to the point with her. he'd dodge her questions, be vague about things... hints of directness, but never really pushing forward with it. he'd tease, but it falls short—mc doesn't know if he's being genuine or not. he doesn't know how to convey that. so a lot of their previous cards and previous moments have been very vague. so, so many examples, a very prime one being his lightseeker myth, because their communication issues very sincerely stuck out with that one. and the last intimate card they had—"tender nights"—and in fact, "heartstring symphony" too, very blatantly display how difficult it is for him to convey his feelings the right way.

but... again, "no restraint" plays that out a lot differently.

"If I had known, I would've kept you company until the mission ended."

"When you said no, they said— 'You're a special person. Won't you reconsider?' ... Did you reconsider?"

"'It's just a scratch. It'll heal in no time.' ... Xavier shakes his head, stands up, and leaves the room. When he returns, he's holding a box filled with bandages that have red foxes on them."

"He gets down on one knee and covers my knee with a bandage. The dim light blurs the outline of his hair ... After smoothing out the bandage, Xavier puts slippers on my feet. And then he stands up and leans against the edge of the table, shoulder to shoulder with me."

"He seems to casually glance in my direction. Noticing how I'm wearing a bathrobe, his gaze lingers on me for a second longer..."

"Does that mean you only like the bandage?"

"Before I realize it, his hand that's on the table slides over. He hooks his pinky over mine. 'I'm curious. The cupcake you mentioned—is it your favorite?'"

and...

he's more intentional with his words and his actions this time. he wants to show her that he loves her, he wants to show her that she means a lot to him. and they're still little things, not too major, but there's a certain confidence in the way that he does it. there's sureness. it's less of those awkward moments of "should i, shouldn't i?" and there's way less hesitation.

he's insistent on holding her and taking care of her wounds. he's insistent on having her say her side of things, because he wants to know what she really thinks, too. small staps towards clearer communication—and though the tension may still be high with them in this card in general, it's a kind of tension where you can feel that they're more comfortable.

it's a stark contrast.

this is the xavier that's more than just learning, more than just realizing—he's doing.

you can really see how he's grown as a person.

(A-2) Character Development; MC

BUT it's not JUST xavier who's grown. because like in all relationships, effort comes from both sides. and the main point here, is that mc has learned to trust him a little more, too.

this part is a little shorter, but i really wanted to bring attention to two scenes and how they both play out—and i'd also like to point out the very start of the card.

the card starts off very general and sets the scene quite well, but it also starts off with mc and xavier separated. this becomes largely the topic for discussion as the card goes on, because mc does wonder where he is, and why he isn't saying anything to her.

but it's not implied anywhere that she's particularly upset about it.

in previous cards/interactions, there's always a sense of exasperation behind her words—sometimes, like in "heartstring symphony", she's upset about it. she chastises him, she sometimes makes it known that she doesn't like when he does those things—

but this time there's none of that.

she allows the mission to move smoothly, doesn't react as much once she does hear xavier contact her again... and even if it shows that she keeps wondering where he is and what he's doing, and later on what he has been doing, it's founded on curiosity instead of frustration.

"Even though I still want to ask him about where he went, it's only a matter of time before more of Henrik's men arrive. Escaping is our main priority."

this is the mc that trusts him.

this is the mc that knows she doesn't particularly need reassurance from him, and she can do without it, because she knows what no matter what, she can trust what he's been up to.

and now;

if it wasn't obvious yet previously, this should make it.

because she's not upset—in fact, she's fond.

she recognizes that her own feelings stem from her own desire to have him with her at all times, too, but most of all, she recognizes that there's nothing to be concerned of, anyway.

she knows that in the end, the person that xavier loves is her. the person that xavier wants to protevt the most is her. the person that xavier wants to be with, as much as he can, as much as the circumstances let him—is her.

she's content with that.

she smiles at the bandage, because it's proof of it—he's just treated her wounds, so insistent on taking care of her even if she knows it's nothing but a scratch and that he doesn't even need to dote on her.

but he does.

he goes the extra stew to get a cute little bandage because he knows it'll make her smile more, too.

she knows that, and she's happy.

"You have your secrets too, but you're different from them."

in a stark contrast from the mc we've been used to before that seems a little on edge and unsure and so doubtful of so many things because there's a lot about xavier she doesn't know yet—this time, she accepts it. because they're both working towards communicating more, and being more affectionate... and there's just no reason and no need for be to be concerned.

it's a big step for her to take, and this is a surprisingly big amount of trust she's putting on him, but it's further proof of how much she—they—have grown.

"You're like.. a cupcake I tucked away so I can have you all to myself."

this is also a line that holds so much in it.

it's really struck out to me, and for a number of reasons, too— (1) it further emphasizes how content she is with him and how much she trusts him; (2) it further emphasizes her own growth with relation to how she shows affection; (3) it says a lot about the kind of special treatment she gives xavier, too.

starting with point #2—the mc we see with xavier has always been bold, always the one to initiate things.... but never truly reciprocates.

like the xavier before, mc never really follows through with what she starts. she'll tease, then pull back; initiate, and then abruptly leave him hanging. she's not much better than xavier in terms of showing affection, because although she may seem like the bolder one, the truth is that she's always been scared.

it goes back to the level of trust she has in him.

because she doesn't know too much about him, it prevents her from truly acting on her feelings—she doesn't know what to expect, doesn't know how far she's allowed to take things.

teasing remains teasing.

not this time.

we also see the level of sureness she has in her actions with the way she initiates their more intimate moments later on; she might have started out as coy, but not once did she back away from it... if not for the fact that she encourages it, even.

"I tug at his sleeve, unable to figure out whether I'm meaning to be flirty or not."

she says this, but she still continues. because she knows what she wants, and she trusts him with it.

then you bring that all together with point #3—the allusions to her own personality.

"You're like a cupcake I tucked away, so I can have you all to myself."

to me it feels less about her reciprocating his more possessive nature, and more about her views on how she's been cherishing him.

tucked away.

she uses past tense.

she could have very well said "a cupcake i tuck away"; which would imply that she frequently wants to hold him close to her to save for when they're alone.

but this is a cupcake she tucked away.

and to me it feels like she's held on to him so long... without actually appreciating him for who he is.

it's like having a pretty dessert with you, one that's too pretty to eat, so you keep for yourself for a while. and you... don't eat it. even if you're supposed to.

it's like getting a precious jewel, but you're too concerned about it being stolen from you, because it's just that precious and beautiful—so you keep it. you don't wear it, whether outside or wherever. you don't. wear it. even if you're supposed to.

and that's not appreciating them for what they are.

to me, it feels like that's how the change in tense makes mc's words appear.

a cupcake she tucked away—hasn't eaten at all. like how, with xavier, for all that she's been fond of him, she's never onve bridged the gap between them on her own, either. she's kept him at arm's length, doubted him, and everything else that comes along with all the communication issues they've always had.

this time, she recognizes it—and i'd like to think that in a way, she's also apologizing for it. she admits, out loud, to herself and to him, that she's been pretty selfish. she hasn't been treasuring him and cherishing him the way she needs to be. she hasn't been reciprocating when he's affectionate. she's been only shying away when he initiates something. she knows she's been like that, and she's saying—i'm not going to be like that anymore.

and again, it goes back to trust.

she trusts him.

and because she can trust him, she can love him how he is, for who he is.

"so i can have you all to myself" feels a lot more like, "so i can finally love you."

and then we get to this scene.

for one thing, she doesn't deny their relationship at all; for another—their conversation on "love" feels very striking to me, too.

"but he can be a little mischievous sometimes."

"isn't that just love?"

and then...

"you're not wrong."

it's like a very direct jab at xavier and his way of being affectionate; the teasing that he does, and the way he's sometimes a little vague, sometimes a little awkward—but he's trying, and he's becoming more sure of himself, too.

and xavier's way of showing affection is truly reserved for her, because there's really none of that awkwardness with anyone else—he doesn't try so hard.

mc seems to be, here, descriving that nature of him as "mischievous".

it is, in a way.

but she also knows that it's love.

that it's his way of showing love.

she recognizes it. she accepts it.

she's learned things about him, too, and she's thinking... all of it can be compiled into this little word called love.

there is love between both of them.

and we can say that at this point, they're pretty far into their relationship.

they've gotten quite comfortable with each other—they're being touchy, the playful banter is light and easy... and they're definitely working to strengthen the bond that they have. their communication has improved SO much... i'm so proud of them 😭

it's definitely not a fully developed relationship; they're still a little shy around each other, there's still a lot of tension that's hard for them to navigate. it seems they've also yet to cross the " i love you" barrier, or at the very least, that it's difficult to say—plus, mc is exceedingly embarrassed to find xavier had overheard her conversation with the receptionist.

yet... when we move on to when they start to get intimate, it's also very interesting to me that it goes so smoothly—and it's definitely not their first time.

but it's a first something.

and it doesn't make the moment any less full of emotion.

this particular sequence honestly had me so INCREDIBLY confused at first, because why on earth would he be trapped right;

but then you look into who xavier is and how he's been with mc, and it goes back to that—he has so, so much love for her that he simply doesn't know how to deal with it.

he's pleading her.

he's saying that if she continues drawing him in like this, what with how much he always feels for her, he's not going to be able to hold back.

it's a trap, in a way.

xavier is still trying his best to discern what it means to show love to someone—because all these years, he hasn't been able to learn that properly. and yet now that mc has fully grasped her end of the stick, now that she's confident and sure of what she wants and how much she feels for him, it's bringing forth a bubble of emotions that he can't seem to describe.

it might not be their first time, but i don't think that xavier ever moves on from what it feels like to be wanted by her like this.

it's scary, because he doesn't know how to navigate things like this.

"It's almost as if tiny flames are flickering in the depths of his gaze. They're faint yet ready to ignite my soul at any moment."

xavier, who's been raised with the notion that he has to know things, to be able to potentially lead his people as the future king of philos...

this is something he doesn't know.

and like how mc was always afraid of how uncertain she was with him, right now, he's afraid because he has so much emotion ready to burst forth that he doesn't know what to do with it.

there's an aura of disbelief that makes it so hard for him to grasp.

it's always been "i will love you in every universe"—for the both of them.

and now, he's having the full realization, maybe for the 928482857th time since they've become official, that she's saying those words back to him. that if he can love her in every universe, as every version of himself... then she can do the same for him.

she wants to do the same for him.

she is doing the same for him.

"she loves me."

"she wants me."

he's pleading with her to take what she wants, because she has all of him.

and then we go back to mc's confidence—because she realizes he wants this to proceed in exactly the same way she wants it to, and she's willing to become his undoing.

and even if he technically switches and takes charge in the next second, it comes to fruition that her giving him consent in this way is what breaks him free of that bubble.

"don't hold back", is all that this is, really.

and he doesn't.

and it's just, not really just about the tension they've built up to get to this moment—the coy excuse of using the protocore's supposed effects—there's so much that goes into it, with the way they feel, with how their desires are so blatantly displayed just like that, with how their love fuels how much they need each other.

it's almost funny, in a way, because it's as if both of them are saying "take me, i'm yours." at the same time. and then it becomes less about possession... and more of a complete and utter surrender to each other.

and i think that's beautiful.

(which also. BONUS? but if this doesn't signify how focused xavier is on giving pleasure and at the same time how easy it is for him to lose himself in the moment and feel good because you're feeling good—i don't know what else will ✋)

(also like. the aftercare... the morning cuddles.... the hickey mc left on him 😭 i love them so much..........)

IN CONCLUSION . . . . THIS CARD MADE ME FEEL MANY THINGS.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK 😭✋

#I WANTED TO GET THIS DOME BEFORE I PLAY ZAYNE'S “HIDDEN MOTIVES” CARD HAJDJSNFBKSKGBSKKGS #BUT LIKE IM . GENUINELY UNWELL EVERYTIME I REPLAY NO RESTRAINT GUYS 😭✋#ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #*ੈ♡. rose talks #☄︎*.ﾟ. lndthonk #xavier #love and deepspace xavier #love & deepspace xavier #lnds xavier #lads xavier #l&ds xavier #love & deepspace #love and deepspace

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anundyingfidelity · 11 months ago

Text

INTERROGATION GONE WRONG – Cleon XIII/Brother Day

Summary: Cleon XIII interrogates his statisticians about Hari Seldon's predictions. His in-turn maid remains there hearing the conversation, unbeknownst to him, knowing the answer - at least part of.

Pairing: Cleon XIII/Brother Day x female maid reader.

Word count: 2.9k.

Warnings: extremely dub-con, smut, abuse of power, forced orgasm, choking, fingering, degradation, p in v, creampie, not the soft aftercare you're waiting for. The author is also non native English speaker.

Notes: this is based on that scene of 1x04. This is the most non-con thing I've written ever. I gave my warnings. Also please watch Foundation lol, this show reminded me of how much I loved Lee Pace since like 2014. Once I'm in, I will never get out and I needed to write something for Cleon I love him he is an idiot.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

The man fell with a thud on the floor. You should be scared, surprised, trembling with fear, but this was not new behavior for you or anyone in the palace. Since Seldon's exile and the disaster shaking the Empire gradually, the response of the new Cleon was clearly expected after being a witness of a poor reunion and inconvenience with the staticians. More than a conversation, it felt like a judgment, a death one.

"Dining, now," he ordered passing by your figure on his way to leave the throne room. With a bow, you followed in an instant and ready to serve him.

Cleary, you could tell he was not in the good mood that day, already skipping the meal for breakfast with his brothers earlier; something that was out of the itineraries. Once a change of the routine happened, it meant something was off, so you thought. Demerzel was also not around, attending other meetings, so this left you alone with Empire, opening the door of the sole dining room the Brothers used privately, with the tall figure of Cleon XIII waiting impatiently for his midday meal and looking every move you made around the place to please him as fast as your feet allowed.

The cooks served the meal arranged from the menu after your order and they left as rapid as they came in, Brother Day dispatching them with a hand gesture once they were done. You took a couple of steps back, standing close to the table but ready in case he dispatched your presence as well.

"Not you, you stay," he commanded after sipping his wine for the first time, eyes focused on the plate he would eat.

"Yes, Empire."

You had to obligue, and that is what happened. You watched him from the corner of your eye, from time to time in silence, pretending to be unconcerned and collected, though that was far from being true. The whole meal time was eternal, specially that day. With no Brother Dawn nor Brother Dusk around for Brother Day to have a bland talk with, only the sound of fine cutlery clinking against porcelain as Empire ate. Boring, your head began to spin around, thinking in non-senses and theories of what you heard and read from Seldon's predictions of the fall. Empire was cruel, but it had you working, serving food to your plate, and probably that was enough. But it didn't stop your curiosity of learning further the philosophy of Hari Seldon.

When in front of Empire, your gaze seemed lost but your mind was working. You never said a single comment about studying Seldon's theory, of course. You were just a maid. Science and university never were a good pair for a woman who served the Empire. However, you still found the math behind his calculations as something intriguing and fascinating for some reason...

"Maid," the loud voice of the Emperor interrupted your daydream. "I said, wine."

The intense look on his eyes forced you to attend his order fast, serving more of the fermented liquid on the cup standing besides his plate.

His large hand took the cup when you filled it with wine and he sipped again, his eyes scanning you slow and deep. You knew he sensed something was wrong with you. Swallowing, you noticed he already had finished with his meal, so you finally you dared to speak.

"Can I retire your plate, Empire?"

"Is there something you want to share, maid?" he responded, blatantly ignoring your question and dragging your title like it was nothing but a shameful word to spill.

"At all, Empire," your voice came as a whisper.

Brother Day stood on his feet with such grace and started a slow walk towards your figure. You wanted to step away, but you feet were glued to the ground, so his tall and intimidating form washed over you soon.

"Speak," he instructed coldly. You started to tremble, unable to take off your scared eyes from him, bitting your bottim lip as he leaned. "Or do you want to be punished?"

His hand forced around your neck all of a sudden. As an act of reflection, you tried to pull back from his grip, but he was much stronger, having you in place and cutting your breath. "I know you hide enthusiasm around Doctor Seldon's theories," he whispered darkly on your ear. "I am not giving you a choice, speak!"

As he yelled down his last words, he pushed you harshly, body falling to the grown. Air filled your lungs once again and you coughed, sitting down and watching that he was coming closer with big steps. You dragged yourself on the floor using your hands and feet trying to not tangle yourself with the fabric of your dress. Fighting the tears on your eyes, your back touched the wall and sobbed. There was nowhere to go now. So you finally confessed.

"Your staticians would not give you a number because it's true!" you cried out. Brother Day stopped on his tracks just a couple of inches before you. "It's all true, Doctor Seldon is right. And it all began with the Star Bridge, I know you were a child when it happened because I was a child too when the crisis started. There is a probability, but is not zero," you said, recalling his words.

You saw his face changed. He was exhasperated already, but rage appeared in his eyes in a very visible way; a rage that you had yet to see from Empire. Fear took over you, afraid of what would happen next. Should you keep talking? Should you continue crying? Scream for nobody to come around for your sake? As you questioned yourself, he lowered himself to be at your level on the ground. Brother Day never sat down, but he was making sure to get under your skin. His powerful gaze had a quick effect to do that.

"Go on."

Too scared to speak, you opened your lips but no sound came out. Empire waited your words for a moment, scrutinizing your face. And still, nothing came. He grabbed your arm with a rough grip, forcing you to stand up, colliding with his body until your back hit the empty part of the table he had been eating in.

"You have ten seconds to continue or I will force everything that is in your head out of you, maid," Cleon threatened. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three-"

"I said it was probability," you shuddered. "Life is a probability by all means and Seldon knows that," you breathed, aware that Brother Day was feeling your shaking body under his piercing eyes. "I studied Doctor Seldon's psychohistory and theory for the last four years, learning math and other sciences on my free time on the library. So even if I don't posses a title, I know his hypothesis was only that at the time; a hypothesis can be null, but also be provable, and thus now is not untrue."

He slowly leaned away.

"So you say there is no error on Seldon's ecuation," he concluded, jaw clenching.

"None that I could find."

Brother Day paced in front of you, back and forth, hrad processing what he just heard. You could tell he was getting what he wanted, but nothing was what he really longed for. And what you found was nothing but the truth. Maths don't miss, it was useless to lie.

"How do you simply fall into a conclusion like that? Prophecies of the Empire declining into a dark age after centuries of rising. Of our legacy!" he stopped again and went back to your figure, trapping your body between himself and the dining table. You felt his breath when he leaned close, the smell of wine and fruits mixing with his cologne was intoxicating your nostrils as the last tears flowed down your cheeks. Sooner or later, you thought he was going to end up with your life. You had nothing left to lose by now.

"It's simple history and logic. Everything that goes up has to go down, even empires."

All you felt was his big palm slapping your face, your back hitting the edge of the table. A hurted moan filled the room, and he forced you to look at him grabbing your chin with the same strenght he had used on you all this time, like you were nothing more than a doll to play with as he pleased.

"In other circumstances, I would find you amusing," he breathed gainst your lips. The touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away your last tears, contrasted the roughness of his words, his body between your legs and his weight pressing you to lie down on the surface.

"Psychohistory words, not mine," you whispered, your hands running to wrap around his wrist, but his aura repelled instantly your touch. It was useless to keep trying. So here you were, ready for Brother Day to end with your life in just the blink of an eye. "Maybe Brother Dusk made a mistake," you continued, giving up on leaving the room alive. "Make Hari Seldon stay instead..."

Brother Day pressed further against you, almost crushing you with his significant huge frame.

"Such a talented brain and mouth, why don't I put you to good use? I think I deserve it."

He forcefuly turned you around until you were bending over the table, a loud gasp falling from your mouth. One of his hands making its way between your legs caused your thighs to press together, trying to stop him, but it was impossible, so you had nothing to do but beg.

"Please, Empire," you felt like crying again at his touch, his fingers cupping your clothed pussy in a slow motion. "Stop, please-"

"Shut up, whore," he grunted, rubbing his crotch against your ass and slammed your face with his free hand so you had your cheek lying against the cold surface. "I had enough from you."

Heartbeat rising, you tried with no results to escape from his body cage. The sway of your hips caused Empire to grow eager. His slender fingers pushed your panties aside, coating them with your own wetness, and that was certainly something you did not expect to be down there. He hummed in response, rubbing your folds, and you exhaled once he entered one finger.

Your body responded to his ministrations, his growing erection pressing against the curve of your ass while he played with your cunt as he wanted, easing a second digit inside your walls. Probably you should just give in by now as you felt your muscles tighten, already reaching your high. Almost. The first moan of pleassure escaped your throat and you regreted the answer of lust coming from your body the following instant, your palms holding yourself on the table.

His long digits fucked you faster and your legs trembled, his thumb played with your clit so deliciously you thought you were passing out soon. He leaned down until you could feel his breath on your neck.

"Fucking take it," he groaned, feeling your warm walls pulsing around his fingers.

Almost not having control over your body, your legs further opened, like his voice just ordered you to do it.

"Please, please..."

Again, you cried and begged, not sure of the reason. For pleassure, shame, mercy... Anything was possible at that moment as whimpers and moans fell from your mouth.

The sensation grew stronger down your belly, feeling him exploring your insides too deep, touching a place no man nor your fingers reached before. It happened repeatedly, it felt so sweet and sinful. Like something you never knew but you were sure would leave you aching for more. His fingers making you so drunk and pleading for a release, and the seconds that passed by were endless until you finally blissed out with a loud moan, convulsing by the work of his hand.

Brother Day gave himself a wicked smile, watching you squirm and gasp. Such a strong orgasm he ripped out of you. He pulled his fingers away from your pulsing cunt and admired your wetness coating them before he raised the skirt of your dress and took off your panties until they were hanging between your ankles.

You grimaced at the feel of his big palms rubbing your ass cheeks, parting them to get a view of your throbbing heat, still clenching around nothing. You could listen to him undoing his pants. He hissed, taking his hard lenght to rub the sensitive skin of your ass and his thick tip teased your slit, sliding slowly inside. You gasped at the sudden intrusion as he stopped from filling you up completely, feeling your tight cunt embracing him.

"Empire, please not this-"

"This is how I prefer you," Cleon whispered on your neck, you stopped your plea. "Submissive and quiet. You are not so bold now, are you?"

And he slowly entered your pussy further. You whined, nails scratching the fine material of the table. You were so tight and warm. He had to control himself of not pounding into you right away. Being filled up by the Emperor shouldn't arouse your body like this, but your heat welcomed his cock like it was the perfect missing piece of a puzzle.

"Are you a virgin, maid?" he asked, hips giving a couple of shallow, slow thrusts. Your hips moved in sink with his own, your nipples were now hard and erect against the surface, scratching the fabric of your bra and dress, giving up into heavenly bliss. Sweet mewls left your lips as he stretched your cunt. And it was oh, so long since you felt this full.

"No, Empire."

Your response was the green light. He started to rut into you. Rough. Even if your answer was to be different, you knew Empire would not care. He used to get away with what he wanted, and right now he wanted you. His own grunts made eco along with the sound of his skin hitting your ass, your moans escaping without any shame now. The small amount of discomfort he caused was transformed into pleassure and arousal, keeping his hands firmly on your hips.

"Then you can take it, you've done this before," he mocked, increasing his rough pace.

His grip was strong on your sides, you knew his fingers would leave marks on your skin once you finished. But nothing mattered, you decided, the only on your mind was reaching sweet climax and release. You could not escape from him, not ever. So your body and mind could go through it.

Cleon's eyes found the perfect spot of view to see his cock entering and sliding out your perfect pussy, his shaft glistening with your wetness and his own precum. He stopped and pulled out for a moment, teasing with entering and pulling out, watching himself sliding inside your body.

"Oh gods," he listened to your broken moan, breath hitching.

He again cupped your neck with his palm, fingers roaming around your throat, forcing your back to meet his chest. Your moans were cut by his firm hand, air being a privilige as seconds passed by. He sucked and bit the skin of your neck, burying his cock until his balls met your ass repeteadly, finding that sweet spot of yours.

"Cum," he ordered. "Cum or you will not breath again."

You knew you were close, but you needed it faster. You needed to breath, as good as his cock felt, fucking you and splitting you open, you still needed to make it until the end. Your fingers found your clit and played with your bud as Empire bucked his hips fast and rough. Finally, your muscles tensed and forced a hard orgasm out of you, walls pulsing around his dick. He grunted, not slowing his thrusts, softening the hand around your neck allowing you oxygen again.

"Merciful am I?" he groaned and you felt his seed painting your insides, cock throbing as he also came from his high.

"You are, Empire," you breathed out.

Your back arched and you held yourself on his hands and chest. You heard the sound of one of the chairs being taken out, being dragged by him until you felt he sat down, you on his lap with his cock still burried deep inside you. His slick cum ran down your inner thighs as he parted your legs, touching your abused cunt and clit, feeling how you were still connected. He rubbed your pussy in slow, gentle moves, collecting his cum mixed with your juices. He offered his fingers to your lips, so you licked them as he wished, sucking them clean. Your walls pulsed again.

"So obedient now," Cleon purred.

His hands undid your dress to free your chest, groping your tits as he pleased. He played with your nipples, just like he had played with all of you in a few minutes.

"What will happen to me?" you asked in a murmur.

"Such a pretty cunt you are," Brother Day began, tracing kisses on your shoulder. His voice made you shiver. "You would please me a lot as a cuncubine of the Gossamer Court."

You swallowed hard, not capable of speaking or fighting back. He felt your body tensing so he continued his speech in your ear. "No worries, I can play with you some more before it happens. And you will tell me everything you know about Seldon."

#cleon xiii x reader #cleon xiii x female reader #brother day x reader #brother day x female reader #foundation apple tv #cleon xiii smut #brother day smut #foundation fanfiction #brother day #cleon xiii #foundation season 1 #lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #cleon 13th #foundation imagines #lee pace x reader #idkkkk just leaving this here #I HAD TO DO IT OKAY?#foundation 2021

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months ago

Note

om gosh just- alister getting into some trouble with some mean people but then, out of no where- a odd looking & powerful Zoroark (Hisuian) comes out to protect them! and they're badass! they got one eye damaged, their body is littered in scars and maybe a arm is missing? they been through some tough stuff but they see Allister as one of their children. and surely, allister has them on their team now? also, what would the other gym leaders think of his new pal?

"How does a kid like him get a gym leader position?"

"It should've been me, I have way better ghost types!"

"And he's always wearing that creepy mask. What's he hiding from us?"

Allister could feel his heart hammering in his chest every minute he was out in public. All he wanted to do was take a quiet walk through the Slumbering Weald and not draw too much attention to himself.

He really didn't want to be seen by anyone right now.

It's already been a bad enough day for him; the last thing he needed were cameras and phones being shoved into his face--he's gotten enough of that during today's interview.

He was asked how he felt about Victor/Gloria defeating him in the championship tournament, and he didn't have a solid answer. He only found himself getting upset over the whole thing again.

Even though Leon always told him to take his defeats in stride..it was still hard.

So he cut the interview short and ran away, making it clear he wanted to be alone without the company of bodyguards.

Why would he need them when he had Pokémon like Gengar? They're the only ones who really understood him. They never gave him weird looks for talking to the dead.

Yet he suddenly began to second-guess his decision, considering he now had no shelter from the comments of passerbys.

They doubted him all because he was the youngest of the gym leaders and wasn't as confident as the rest of them..and it wasn't right. They didn't know him like the others did.

He worked so hard to get to where he is now....not to be heckled and ridiculed for just being a kid.

Luckily, the Slumbering Weald was rather quiet at this hour-

"Use Thief!"

A flash of black and orange suddenly dashed in front of Allister, causing him to help as he stumbled forwards and collapsed to his knees, scraping them hard into the stone. The shock of the surprise attack led to his mask falling off and clattering to the ground.

Before he could reach for it, a Thievul snatched it up in its jaws, darting back to someone who was whistling for it.

He looked up, a hand over his face as he stared at the duo who attacked him: a teenaged trainer boring a smug grin, and their dark type by their side, holding his mask hostage.

And they weren't alone, as another trainer showed up with their Obstagoon, who took the mask from Thievul and wore it on its own face as mockery, laughing.

"You better give that back!" He cried out, horrified and angry. "Y-You two don't know..who you're messing with.."

"I think we already know." The Thievul's trainer sneered cruelly. "You're just a weak little kid. Did you know that you're the most unpopular gym leader in this week's poll?" They waved around their rotomphone

"..I-I don't care about popularity.."

"Pssh. That's a bloody lie if I've ever heard one." Obstagoon's trainer huffed. "Ya really showed your fans how selfish you actually are. Ya wouldn't stick around for autographs and just ran off...how do ya think Leon and the rest of 'em will feel when they hear about that?"

"Stop it..please." Allister begged, his hand grasping Gengar's dusk ball in preparation.

"I doubt they'd want someone like you representin' the-"

"VUL!!"

Out of nowhere, a blast of dark purplish energy careened into Theivul, causing it to slam into the nearest tree and flop to the ground like a ragdoll. Its trainer looked bewildered, confused as to where that shot came from.

Then a blur of white appeared and snatched the mask straight out of Obstagoon's hands, much to its shock as it looked all around...unable to see who it was.

But soon they all heard a spine-chilling howl, spinning their heads to find out that the source was you.

A white Zoroark standing in the fog.

Yet while you certainly looked like one, your hair was drastically different compared to the usual tied-back look of normal Zoroarks. Instead, it appeared as long shaggy wisps with red streaks waving all over the place and covering one of your eyes.

Not only that, but your whole body looked as though it's been through the toughest of battles: scars littered your torso, some patches of fur were entirely missing, and--to Allister's shock and sadness--you only had one arm. The other was nothing more than a stump.

Even so, you weren't backing down as you stalked towards him, the bullies, and their Pokémon, teeth gnashed in anticipation.

Thievul and Obstagoon both took up protective stances, ready to attack on their trainers' commands.

Except..

No commands were uttered for a few long moments, and they looked back to see the sheer horror plastered on each of the humans' faces.

"I-It's...a...a....IT'S A ZOMBIE!!!" Thievul's trainer shrieked, forcing their fox partner back into its ball. "So the rumors are true..y-you really CAN summon the dead!!"

"...huh..?" Allister blinked in immense confusion.

He didn't summon you..

"W-We were just kiddin'. You're great!! You're worthy of wearin' that ghost badge!!" The other stammered, recalling Obstagoon. "We won't bother ya..e-ever again...just...."

They took one look at you, and as you growled lowly, the two trainers screamed and ran away.

"WAAAAAAHHH!!!!"

"DON'T EAT OUR BRAINS!!!"

After their voices faded and Allister watched them disappear for good, he looked back up at you in wonder. No longer was he covering his face, so you could see his eyes practically sparkling.

"They were wrong." He whispered. "You're no zombie. You're...the Hisuian Zoroark I've read about."

Of course you were. He's heard about this variant from what he believed were just myths of the Hisui region that existed long before Sinnoh. From what he knew about them, and judging by your current appearance...the agony you suffered in life was also reflected in your death.

Had he not been a ghost trainer with such a unique connection to the type, he would've thought you were a zombie, too.

As your gaze pierced through his soul, he remained on the ground, feeling as though he got hit by a frozen status effect. He didn't dare to move, knowing that a Hisuian Zoroark's anger was not to be trifled with.

Perhaps you saw him as just another human to take your rage out on.

For you likely held the same grudge as all the others of your kind...

One that was bitter, eternal, and cold as the frost that took your life after you've spent all your energy and hatred in battle; your scars and lost arm were simply the products of you flinging yourself into vicious fights with humans and Pokémon alike--no self-preservation instincts to be found.

Allister had no clue what you were thinking, but as you suddenly crouched down in front of him, he flinched back, arms shielding his face in fear of what you might do.

"Zo...."

"..wh-what..?" Uncovering his face, he was stunned to see something familiar in your grasp being handed over to him:

His own mask.

Of course. He forgot you swiped it from that mean Obstagoon earlier.

Yet he didn't take it back right away, instead looking up at you and seeing nothing but warmth in your eyes. He noticed the one covered by your hair was blind, given the milky look and the deep scar that went through it.

Despite seeing how you've suffered countless hardships, likely endured an agonizing death, and came back out of pure spite and hatred for humans...

You reached deep into your cold, dead heart and rediscovered strength and kindness--both of which you used to protect this young ghost trainer when he needed it most.

You knew he wasn't like those who exiled you.

No.

He was a friend.

He reminded you of all your children back at home: the Zoruas who followed you in life, death, and the after..fearful of what they've become, but feeling safe when you were around.

You couldn't reach them anymore, yet you wanted to protect someone. Anyone.

And you found Allister.

A small sniffle and whimper snapped you out of your thoughts, noticing the tears rolling down the young boy's face. You frowned a little, looking down at the mask.

Was this not his?

"D-Don't worry, I'm....so happy, Z-Zoroark..thank you.." He whispered shakily, smiling as he took it back, putting it on to hide the rest of his tears. "I..d-don't know how you got here, but you saved me. You put those bullies in their place. Nobody takes me seriously as a ghost type gym leader..much less a trainer..but you do, don't you?"

"Ark-ark.." Nodding, your gaze went to the dusk ball clipped to his belt, and you tapped on it with a rugged claw.

At first, he flinched at the sudden motion, before realizing you just wanted to see the pokeball. "Oh, this? I-It's a dusk ball..a version of a pokeball that helps me catch Pokémon at night. Or in caves.." He showed it to you, allowing you to sniff it curiously-

Only to accidentally boop your nose against the button, causing it to open and capture you.

At first Allister panicked, dropping the dusk ball to the ground as he watched it shake several times, scared out of his mind.

A million thoughts were running through his head right now:

Was it going to break?

Were you going to be angry?

Did you want to be captured?

What if-

*click*

'Huh...?' Bewildered, he looked down to see that the accidental catch was successful. And he picked up the dusk ball, opening it and letting you back out, expecting you to be enraged.

Yet..you seemed content.

You looked surprised, sure, but you soon smiled upon seeing him and nodded your head.

Indeed, you wished to become his partner Pokémon.

"O-Okay..I guess you're coming with me from now on." Allister quietly laughed, brimming with joy on the inside. "But first you should meet Gengar. I think..you two will get along well."

"Zor...ark, ark!"

#sorry i tried writing the gym leaders into this but it just wasnt working bc i kept adding and deleting stuff so i had to omit them </3 #but id say they would be thrilled that allister found himself a unique pokemon who acts like a parent #clanask #pokemon x reader #pokemon swsh x reader #pokemon sword x reader #pokemon shield x reader #pokemon allister #hisuian zoroark #pokemon reader

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 month ago

Text

Blood Lust

N: For my last entry to @buckybarneseventsBuild a Bucky Bingo I’ve picked Vampire AU. I’ve adored this challenge and hope it runs again.

Unbeta’d so please excuse any typos, but big thanks to @christywrites for spitballing with me.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you would like to join my tag list, click here

Master list | BaBB Master list

Summary: Bucky was just trying to find another lost Hydra bunker to destroy it - he never expected to find a fucking Vampire inside it, or receive such a proposition from her.

You didn’t know who the stranger coming into your territory was, but you could tell from his scent he was powerful - maybe he could provide you with what you needed, in more ways than one.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 5k

CW: Vampire AU, alternating POV, blood drinking (what did you expect?), rough sex, multiple orgasms, canon typical violence, destruction of furniture, guns, stranger sex, smidge angst, discussions of murder.

Even if you hadn’t been able to smell him as he drew closer - musky with fresh sweat along with notes of gunsmoke and metal - you’d have known he was there. His blood sang to you. You could feel it, drawing you in. Closer and closer. Full of strength and power. And, you hoped, the answer to your prayers.

You waited in the shadows and as he came into view, moving slowly and stealthily, you watched him with a growing hunger that wasn’t simply a need to feed.

The thing about HYDRA, Bucky thought, was that just when he was sure he’d found all of their old bases and razed them to the ground, he found mention of another one. Now, here he was, deep in the Appalachians, trying to distinguish a HYDRA bunker from those built by random prepper’s . The signs were there, though - marks carved in the rocks and trunks of trees that looked innocuous to most folks, but were clear as day to someone with the appropriate knowledge.

Dusk had started to fall an hour ago, and now it was almost fully dark. The moon had risen, round and heavy looking, but the sky was covered in those large fluffy clouds that constantly moved and only allowed the bright, reflected light to illuminate the path in front of him at random. Luckily, with his enhanced eyesight, Bucky didn’t need to rely on either the inconsistent glow or a flashlight. His steps were sure and steady, barely making a sound.

Eventually, after following a few false paths, he found what he was after. A broad cliff face, cut with vertical crannies, rose up in front of him. Somewhere at the bottom would be the entrance, cunningly hidden. He reached out with his left hand, running the tips of his vibranium fingers over the weather roughened surface for signs of a mechanism. As he did so, he became aware of two things at once. Firstly, he found the switch to release the door with relative ease. However, secondly, he got the distinct feeling he was being watched.

Whipping around, Bucky peered into the darkness, his ears straining for any unusual sounds, but all he could hear were the bugs, rodents and owls. If he were any other person he’d think he was imagining it, but years of training followed by a few years of paranoid hiding had taught him better.

When nothing appeared out of the gloom, Bucky forced himself to turn back to the hidden door and trigger its release. Hopefully he could leave his stalker outside and deal with them later, once he’d completed his mission.

Without further ado, he made his way inside, the door to the bunker closing decisively behind him.

You watched from your perch, your entire body tingling in anticipation, as the man made his way, unknowingly inside your lair. He was confident, you could tell, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop you. His blood would be yours to feast on and you were certain it would make you stronger.

How long had it been since you’d fed from an unwilling source? Others of your kind may prefer it that way, but in the centuries since you’d been turned, you’d barely ever had to resort to those means. Well, you thought ruefully, apart from in those first few months when you’d been unable to control your hunger. That was a long time ago, though, and now you had a good relationship with the folk who lived near-by - your protection in exchange for fresh blood.

However, the appearance of a rogue coven threatened that relationship. They were a group who followed the old ways, killing indiscriminately and revelling in the carnage. Yes, you could move on, establish yourself elsewhere, but you had bound yourself to this community of people over 100 years ago. Their blood literally ran in your veins. Therefore, you would protect them, and if it took the life essence of this one, apparently powerful stranger to do so, then so be it.

Bucky strode down the corridors, trying to shake off the innate feeling of revulsion that always seemed to cling to him whenever he came into one of these places. He knew it was half due to the dank, dark environment and half due to memory. Ghosts stalked these halls, and he was both one of them and not at the same time. It was a strange duality that he was still learning to accept.

The advantage of being one of those ghosts was knowing his way around without much difficulty. While HYDRA liked to make their bunkers as winding and complicated as possible, they always replicated the same design. This therefore made it complex for anyone new, but familiar for any long standing acolytes and he’d been the longest standing of them all.

Winding downwards into the lower levels, towards the central processing area with its banks of computers, Bucky allowed his mind to wander. There was no-one else in here but him. If there were he’d be able to hear their heartbeat or footsteps. He wondered if the person who’d been watching him outside was waiting for him to exit, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

He absent mindedly patted the pocket that held the flash drive for downloading any uncorrupted data still available. He and Nat would sift through it all on his return and delete anything that shouldn’t be let out into the wider world, which was probably most of it to be honest.

He was feeling pretty confident about this whole mission when the attack came without warning. One moment he was walking down yet another dark corridor, his enhanced night vision serving him well, and the next, something - someone - barreled into him from behind. His instincts kicked in, and Bucky tucked his head and rolled, taking the impact with the floor on his right shoulder, before coming up and spinning around, his left arm raised in a block. A high-pitched shriek filled the air and his assailant slammed against his raised arm. It was with a mixture of shock and disbelief that he realised that it was a woman attacking him, but he didn’t have time to analyse what was going on as she punched and scratched at him.

He blocked her moves, but her strength was unexpected and he found himself giving ground underneath her onslaught. A punch to the gut had him reeling and it was with a sickening realisation Bucky decided that he could no longer just be on the defensive. His previous self had never discriminated on the grounds of sex - just ask Nat - and it appeared that was something his new, recovered self would also have to adopt, for this encounter at least.

Using the advantage afforded him by the distance that had opened up between them, Bucky pulled his pistol from its holster on his right hip and aimed at the woman, centre mass. The retort of the gun was loud within the confines of the concrete lined corridor, but not as loud as the woman’s scream. Bucky winced and turned his head to the side in response to the sound, but it was only as she came running at him again that he realised that it wasn’t a scream of pain, but one of rage. It was as though the bullet hole in her body - and he knew it had hit her from both the sound and the spray of blood up the wall behind her - wasn’t causing her a single issue.

“What the fuck?” He raised his arm again, aiming for her skull, but as he pulled the trigger she seemed to blur in front of him, moving a lot closer to him than humanly possible. The bullet struck the wall, embedding itself with a small shower of concrete chips.

Deciding that something was very wrong, Bucky turned. He needed to get away from her and give himself time to come up with a plan. However, he was jerked to a halt by the back of his tac-vest and then slammed face-first into the wall. It crumbled and cracked under the impact and Bucky had a moment of dizziness, before he was spun around and a clawed hand held his jaw in a firm grip. He spat out a mouthful of grit and blood and noticed the way the woman’s nostrils flared as he did so, her gaze becoming momentarily unfocused. It didn’t last long though, and his unease grew as he watched an animalistic grin spread over her face. A grin that displayed the fangs in her mouth.

“Oh,” the woman said in a low purr. “You’re going to be lots of fun…”

You held the man against the wall, your body alive with the thrill of the chase and the scent of his spilt blood. Your primal nature had been awakened for the first time in years and you were ready to let it have free reign. However, you weren’t sure whether you should just feed, or whether you should ‘play with your meal’ first.

Your moment of indecision gave the man an opening, and he grabbed your wrist with his left hand, the one you noticed was made of some kind of metal, and squeezed. You felt the bones break and you let go instinctively. The pain didn’t last though, and you held up your hand in front of you, feeling everything reset within seconds.

“That wasn’t nice,” you spat. He looked back at you in shock and now it was your turn to take advantage. No more Ms Nice Vampire. You took hold of both his hands, flesh and prosthetic, and slammed them both above his head, cracking the wall further. With interest you noticed his eyes dilate, and you hadn’t even attempted to use your glamour yet.That fact tipped the scales further in the direction of playing.

“You can make it up to me though, can’t you?” You crowded into his space, pleased to note that he wasn’t even struggling, although he was far from lax under your hold. Leaning forward you placed your nose close to his throat and inhaled deeply. You shivered at the delicious scent - it was almost completely intoxicating. “You can be good?” You heard his indrawn breath and smiled to yourself. Tilting your head, you carefully scraped your fangs down the skin of his neck, not hard enough to break his skin, but he’d still be able to feel it. Speaking of feeling…. His hips bucked as you teased him and you were nudged by something firm but still somewhat yielding.

A praise kink? A pain kink? Maybe both? This was going to be good.

Using your preternatural speed and strength you pulled him away from the wall and then threw him towards the floor. His head bounced off the hard surface, making his eyes cross, but you immediately settled over his waist, taking hold of his face in both your hands and roughly kissing him. Blood from his split lip trickled into your mouth and you ground down over his erection in pleasure.

You drew back and looked down at him, pleased to note he was so busy trying to work out what was going on, he wasn’t even trying to escape.

“You can’t be real,” he stated. “I shot you.”

“Oh, I promise I absolutely am. And that lead slug did tickle a bit. You’re a good shot, Soldier. However, you need either silver or wood if you want to slow me down.” You flicked out a long fingernail and drew it down his cheek, this time drawing blood. A small bead clung to the tip of your nail and you drew in between your lips. His cock twitched under you, but then he shook his head, as if trying to get out of the stupor he was in, and tried to push himself up.

“Uh-uh,” you chastised, placing your hand on his chest and pressing down. “You’re not going anywhere. You have something I need.”

“You’re not taking anything from me, bitch,” he snarled, and squirmed under your unnaturally strong hold. You ground down again.

“Who said anything about taking? You’re going to give it to me, and say thank you while you do. You know what I am. What I can offer. What’s a little blood in exchange for guaranteed pleasure. I’ll even let you rough me up a bit if you want?” You leaned back down. Closer. More intimate. “I know you want to…” You licked up the cut on his cheek, both of you shuddering as you did. Then, experimentally, you lessened your hold on him.

In an instant, he flipped you, pressing you to the floor with his left hand on your throat. He didn’t attempt to hurt you though, or escape. Just looked down at you, wide-eyed and panting. You had him just where you wanted him.

Bucky’s head was spinning. He’d seen a lot in his time - but this was something else. A fucking vampire. He looked down at her, noticing the way her dark eyes twinkled in amusement. In all of the tussle it hadn’t escaped his notice how attractive she was. If she wasn’t trying to drain him of his blood he might have been interested. At least that’s what he was trying to convince himself of. His dick obviously hadn’t received the memo, because it had perked up from the moment she’d shown that she was as dangerous as him.

Fuck! Was he mad for even contemplating it? She’d already shown it would be incredibly difficult for him to hurt her - at least in any way that would be long lasting - and that was a fact he found incredibly arousing. If he took her up on her offer he’d be able to really let go.

“You don’t want to kill me?”

She laughed and arched up into his hold. “Sweet boy. If I wanted that, I’d have done so already. But if I had, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy each other over and over, would we?”

“What about the people who live here? How many of them have you killed?”

“In the last one hundred and fifty years? None. We have an understanding. Regular, non-lethal tributes in exchange for my protection.”

Bucky furrowed his brow at her words.“Protection from what? What could possibly be worse than you?”

“Many things. You have no idea what evils lurk in the dark.”

Now it was his turn to scoff. “I think you’ll find I do. I used to be one of them. I may be mortal, but I’m not like everyone else.”

She lifted her arms and ran her hands, delicate but deadly, up and down his biceps. “And yet you obviously choose to be a better person. I bet you could take everything you wanted - use your Soldier skills - but you don’t. You compromise. You do what’s right. How does that make you any different from me?”

There was an undeniable truth to her words, as much as Bucky didn’t want there to be. He constantly downplayed his abilities, because he didn’t want his friends to realise what he would truly be capable of if he wanted.

“What are you waiting for?” she continued. “Just think what it would be like, not to have to hold back. To fuck. Hard. To feel the pain mingle with the pleasure.” She smiled up at him, wryly, and he could feel his resolve slipping. Her left hand tightened on his right bicep, sharp fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt - pinpricks of sensation that lit up his nervous system and made his traitorous dick twitch once again in his pants. Her smile morphed back into that tooth-filled grin and she pressed her nails in even harder. “Go on. Let go. Take what you want.”

Her voice was a hypnotic purr, and Bucky could hear his blood thrumming with need. It felt as though he was standing on the edge of a precipice, only needing one small nudge to send him over the edge. She rolled her hips and let out a pleasured sigh and Bucky fell.

It was difficult to suppress your feeling of triumph as his lips crashed against yours. For a few seconds you let him have the upper hand, before you rolled the pair of you back to your original positions. Then, with a laugh, you pulled away from him and rose to your feet. “Catch me if you can, Soldier.” You skipped away at half speed, which was still faster than most humans, and he chased after you, grinning. Every few minutes, you’d allow him to capture you - let him kiss you and touch you - for a few moments before pulling away and starting the dance again. He only hesitated once, when your escape from his grip ended up in your top being ripped. He froze, looking at you with worry, as if you were about to censure him for his roughness. Instead, you threw back your head and laughed with joy, before taking hold of the neckline of his shirt and tugging on it harshly. The ruined material hung from him in tatters, exposing his firm chest and you licked your lips salaciously before running away from him again.

By the time you’d lead him to the room you’d repurposed as your bed chamber, the pair of you were barely clothed. Your Soldier’s chest heaved and was covered in a thin film of sweat, and you couldn’t wait to taste him. All of him.

With a snarl he tackled you to your bed and you went with him gladly, ignoring the ominous creak of the wooden frame. His mouth roved hungrily over yours and his right hand groped at your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple. You mewled against his lips as the pain mixed with the pleasure and you grabbed at his pecs in turn, digging in your talon-like nails until they broke the skin and ten beads of blood appeared in two beautiful arcs across his torso.

He bit down on your clavicle, hard enough to hurt but not enough to break your toughened skin, and you rolled your hips against his hard length. His hand left your breast and snaked down to the remnants of your underwear. As his fingers slid through your sodden folds, you ran your fingers through his hair as he scraped his teeth down your throat, in an echo of your own earlier move. His left hand, as cold as your own skin, skimmed over your body as he made his way lower, biting your flesh without care. He swirled over your clit, before plunging two fingers inside you without preamble, forcing a cry from your throat.

“Yes! YES! Fuck!”

He answered with a growl, before sucking on the skin of your hip. This was what you’d unknowingly been craving and you suspected it was the same for him. Pure inhibition. Carnality.

Moving even lower, he fastened his lips around your aching bud, laving it without mercy and your eyes rolled back in your head as your orgasm crashed into you, like waves against a cliff. He gave no quarter, though, flipping you unceremoniously onto your front and pulling your hips up.

“Do it!” you hissed, and anticipation shuddered through you as he placed that heavy left hand on the back of your neck, pining you to the bed. When he thrust his cock inside you, you both moaned, but there was no time to process the sensation as he set up a vigorous pace, thrusting into your wet cunt so harshly there was no way you could ignore the protests from your bed. But fuck it - this was the best sex you’d had in decades - if it broke, it broke. You relaxed your body, turning pliant under his hands and enjoying the illusion of physical domination as he fucked into you with abandon. You had wondered if your body was still capable of feeling this level of pleasure, but as he continuously hit that spot inside you, you realised it was.

His right hand gripped your hip so hard you knew that if you were still mortal you knew you’d be bruised for days, and the way he had you pinned would have impeded your breathing if that were still an issue. He was using you for his pleasure, but at the same time making sure you got yours too. The only noise you could let out were little ‘uh-uh’s’ in time with his thrusts and the creak of the wood of your bed. When the spasms of ecstasy shook you once more you felt his cock tense inside you and then flood you with a warmth that was almost forgotten.

As you floated back down, there were a few seconds where a feeling of disappointment washed over you that it was over already, but then you realised that he was still hard inside you. He gave a few experimental thrusts, probably checking that you were alright to continue, and you pushed back onto him in a raptured response.

However, he quickly withdrew and when you looked over your shoulder in confusion he pulled you up and off the bed. With a speed that would have taken your breath away, he once again grabbed you by the neck and, with another hand on your ass, he lifted you and slammed you against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and as his mouth met with yours again, he resheathed himself inside you. You gripped his shoulders, drawing blood once again, and the snapping of his hips became harder as you did so.

“Take it!” he growled against your lips. “You wanted this, so you’ll take it all.”

You sucked his lower lip into your mouth and bit it, releasing a sweet, sticky dribble of his blood into your mouth, moaning at the taste. It was ambrosia, and you couldn’t wait to have more, and feel his essence buzzing through your veins.

“How long. Can you. Keep going?” you asked between rough thrusts.

“I got three or four in me,” he replied to your joy.

“Then fill me up again, Soldier. I want to be dripping you.”

His groan was deep and filthy, both of you now attuned to how wet your cunt currently was, your mingled spend already coating your inner thighs and the skin at the base of his cock.

“You have to come again first. Show me how much you want it. Come for me.”

You didn’t need telling twice and leaned your head back against the wall as the sensations washed over you. “Fuuuuuuuck!” He was as good as his word though, reaching his own peak as you clenched around him.

However, as nice as it had been to relinquish control to this man, it was time for you to regain it. You moved your hands so they were flat against the wall behind you and then pushed off. Your Soldier staggered back, with you still held in his arms and his rock solid cock still snug in your cunt, until his legs hit the mattress. He fell back onto it and you smiled from your position atop him, before starting to ride him.

Bucky’s head was spinning. This… There was nothing he could compare it to. This woman - this vampire - was not only taking everything he gave, she was serving it right back to him. He looked up, mesmerised, as she took control from him again, gliding up and down his cock. She looked like some kind of warrior of old. A goddess. Maybe she had been one of those in her previous life? But right here and now, she was the only woman to come close to matching him and it was intoxicating. The earlier cuts she’d made on his chest had healed over already, but she just reopened them with a curl of her hands. The pads of her fingers smeared the drops across his chest before she raised them to her mouth and sucked them clean, all ten, one by one. When she grinned down at him, her teeth were blood-stained and she looked primally beautiful.

“Sit up,” she commanded. “I need to feel you closer. I want to taste you properly.”

He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this, but for some reason he trusted her when she said she didn’t want him dead. He also hoped that if her blood lust took over he’d be able to escape from her before it went too far - although a voice in his head laughed harshly at that. From what had happened so far, he would probably lose, but he was nothing if not a risk taker.

Bucky pushed himself upright and his supernatural lover wound her fingers into his hair and kissed him while gyrating in his lap. He grabbed at her waist, holding her steady and just gave himself over to the onslaught of pleasurable sensations. She tugged on his hair as she plundered his mouth and he could help but jerk his hips up to meet her movements. Thanks to the serum, he could already feel his third orgasm building - that really was one of the unanticipated advantages of it all - and he couldn’t help but chase the pleasure.

It was strange, this frantic coupling. The vampire was cool to the touch under his right hand, but so warm around his cock. It was as though he were heating her from the inside out. And while he was enjoying the way she moved atop him, he really needed to move.

“Please,” he muttered and she seemed to immediately understand. Shifting her weight to the side, she managed to roll the pair of them. Immediately, Bucky’s hips regained their previous pace. He felt untethered - unhinged - in the best possible way. She met him thrust for thrust, rolling her hips and making the most delicious noises.

“Are you ready, Soldier?” she uttered. “I promise it feels like nothing else you’ve experienced?”

He looked down at her, taking in her dark eyes that seemed to drag him down into the abyss. He was helpless not to fall. “Do it,” he replied, an echo of her earlier words, and as he felt her cunt start to flutter around him one more time, she surged up, latching her mouth - her teeth - to his throat.

Bucky knew pain - the man he’d become had been forged in the fire of it. He’d expected this to hurt, but that first bite quickly morphed into something else entirely. It wasn’t pleasure - it was ecstasy - and burned through his veins. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm. There was a roaring sound in his ears along with the heavy th-dump of his heartbeat and the brightness of the world intensified to a white light so brilliant it overtook everything around it, before quickly shrinking to a darkness that pulled him down… down… down… into oblivion.

You lay in the ruins of your bed, your Soldier’s head resting on your chest as you carded your fingers through his hair. You’d have found the destruction of your resting place amusing if it weren’t for the disappointment swirling through you. It wasn’t disappointment at your mortal lover’s performance - that could be described as nothing but spectacular - no, it was the disappointment that his blood has seemed to do nothing to boost your power. You felt no different than after any good feed, the glow of your sated sexual appetite notwithstanding. You’d have to come up with another plan to get rid of those encroaching on your turf. It would be different if you had a clan of your own, had the strength in numbers, but you were on your own.

Beneath your touch he stirred and you turned your attention back to him. You might be a monster, but you weren’t that type of monster. He’d done all you asked, all you’d wanted, and you owed him your care, as limited as it may be. His eyes blinked open, and in the dull light you took in the unique shade of them for the first time.

“Hey,” you whispered as you continued to pet him.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied with a charming smile before looking around. His cheeks pinked adorably as he took in the destruction. “Umm. Sorry about that.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “It’s alright. I was probably due an upgrade. The locals will bring me a new one.” A wave of fear washed over you and you frowned.

The man in your arms frowned back. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t know why - maybe it was because you’d had no-one else to talk to - but you told him everything. All your fears for the people you watched over, how you weren’t enough on your own and how you’d hoped that his blood would give you the edge you needed.

“And this other group is really that much of a threat?”

You sighed. “Two weeks ago they snatched a family out camping. I wasn’t there quick enough to help, other than to put the mother out of her misery and assure her that her children weren’t coming back - hadn’t been turned. I buried them all myself and then sent their pastor out to pray for them - I wouldn’t put it past those fuckers to come back just to desecrate them further. They’re sick, they’re-”

“Bullies?” he interjected.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I happen to have grown up with someone who’s entire life was dedicated to getting rid of bullies. Not only is he still around, his mentality sort of rubbed off on me.” He grinned at you. “And he’s got some pretty powerful friends, too.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’ve got a team - if you want one? Also, although it might be a little overdue, I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” he held out his right hand and you took it in your own, squeezing it a little to see him blush.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky. The name I was born with has been lost to time - I’m no longer that person - but you can call me Ailith.”

“Ailith…” You watched as he rolled your name around his mouth. “And are you ready to go to war?”

“Are you ready to have rabid post fight sex?” you countered with a raised eyebrow.

He grinned and leaned towards you. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

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