#ten times over and its always covered by his hood. but here is the thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Practicum

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, student/teacher sex, tw.dubcon, tw.sub/dom dynamics, brat taming, fingering, masturbation, a table is pretty roughed up in this, so pls hold a brief moment of silence for it

Words: 12,857

“So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And...answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Notes: the title was selected because it’s got the word cum in it. ahhh, the things that crack me up. anyhow.

this is part of the BNHA Degeneracy server’s 9 to 5 collaboration! i had a ton of fun participating in this and thank you guys for making this so freaking awesome! special shoutout & thanks to @albinoburrito & @kugutsuu for their beta edits! this was a departure from what i usually write about and i appreciate all of your notes and help!

Practicum prac·ti·cum /ˈpraktəkəm/ noun a practical section of a course of study

It’s your senior year, they said. Live a little, they advised. Stop and take a breather, you’re practically home free! Take some easier classes. Focus on what’s in front of you, it’ll be over before you know it! On and on and on.

Spring semester is almost here. You’ve applied for graduation, the cap and gown ordered, and you have a shiny class ring sitting on your pinky. It’s in the bag. Just breeze through four more classes and you’re out. Well, it would be an easy shot, if you hadn’t put off this one class.

It always popped up, so it’s not like you could plead ignorance. Your advisor warned you, each quarterly meeting, that you needed to get it out of the way. Take it seriously, he cautioned, clacking out his notes, typing down that you’d failed to heed his sage advice, again. If you wait too long, you’re not going to get the professor that you want.

That was the other problem. You’re a procrastination superstar. If there was some kinda award for putting off assignments, you’d have won it ten times over. You liked the heart pounding race to the deadline, the sleepy boasts that you’d tackled the project within hours of its due date.

It’s a stupid habit. Every semester you promise yourself that you’ll do better. You won’t wait, you’ll tackle things one assignment at a time and turn them before the hard cut off at 11:59 pm. Who the fuck did you think you were kidding? Certainly not your friends, or your advisor. He could read you like a book. Hell, he’d even sent warnings.

‘Don’t forget about the deadline for senior registration!’

‘You don’t want to be on a waitlist. You especially don’t want to take one of the harder professors. These are freshman level classes, they’re designed to flunk undergrads. Don’t forget (Y/N), chew them up and spit them out tactics are employed.’

But you had. You’d set an alarm on your phone, then neglected to give it a title, so you’d only chuckled and smacked the chirping into silence that morning, snoozing the all important deadline away.

Fuck.

Most of the classes for biology are wait-listed. No, scratch that, all the classes for Intro to Genetic Biology are wait-listed. You opt into the waitlist for all of them, just in case, and a week later your phone alerts you that one has an open seat. Actually, it has several open seats, too many open seats to be natural. However, you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so for now, you’re enrolled in BIO 1208: Principles of Cell and Organismal Physiology - For Non-Science majors.

Perfect.

Yeah, no. You’d looked up the professor, since the whole open seat thing was still giving you the heebie-jeebies, and your heart dropped. You’ve heard of him, most of the student body has. His classes are notoriously small. Not because the university limited them, or planned for smaller class sizes. No, his classes are tiny because he is infamous for failing students.

Most, when they realize they’re scheduled for his bio classes, frantically drop, taking the withdrawal and praying for better luck next semester. Others, brave souls who think they can come out unscathed, attempt to grit their teeth and push through. But, by midterms, they’re war torn and haggard, shaking their heads and praying for a ‘C’, at best. Fewer still, pass.

This pedagogy isn’t a sign of good teaching; quite the opposite, in fact. You don’t want your student body failing. Yet, year after year, Professor Tomura Shigaraki keeps teaching the same Intro to Bio class. It boggles the mind, but you’ve never had to worry about it. Well, until now.

When you’d received the notification that you’re enrolled in the B section and spied the name Shigaraki under the professor listing, you’d scarfed down your suddenly flavorless lunch and dashed up the steps to the student advising hall, praying there was some way you could wiggle your way out of this growing disaster.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to take it earlier and to take it in the fall when there are more freshman level classes available. I swear I said that to you. And, AND, I even sent you emails, several times if my sent inbox is to be believed, to NOT forget when senior registration ends.”

Your advisor is peeved. You don’t blame him. He’s right, this is your fault, but there’s gotta be some kinda loophole. Something, fuck, anything, that can pull you from this mess.

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry. You’re right. But, I mean, can’t I just hold off for another week? See if the waitlist clears?”

The man that you’ve known for four years, that’s seen you progress from freshman to senior, steeples his long fingers and purses his lips, likely debating on a tactful scolding, or a firm rebuttal. He takes a deep breath and you can’t help but sink into the soft cushioning of the chair, your nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

“Do you know how many students we require to take BIO 1208?”

“No,” you gulp, nibbling on your lower lip nervously.

“Over 7,000. Do you want to hear the statistics that would need to shake out in your favor for you to miraculously avoid taking this specific class? Nothing is going to open for you, it is this class, or no class.”

You sigh, and your advisor nods, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Well then, I suggest you brush up on your study skills. Find a classmate that you can compare notes with, join a study group, go to the student union and ask for a tutor. I would hate to see you back here for the summer semester. You’re scheduled to walk the stage this spring and you’ve worked hard for this, so don’t fuck it up, okay?”

You’ve attended this university for four years, but the first day of term always gives you the jitters. It doesn’t matter that you know your way around, or that you know ten professors by name, and bump into several friends on the way to your next building, you’re always buried in your phone, checking and double checking the next class’ room number.

Despite all that caution, you’re lost.

In your defense, it’s your first time stepping foot in the Graduate & Research building and the whole concrete block is a fucking maze. There must be a basement because the numbers don’t match up with the floors and they seem to jumble further every time you round a corner. Like what the hell? How can this next room be GR 3.03.05 when this is clearly only the second floor and GR 2.03.11 was right down that other hallway?

Exasperated, you lean against the nearest wall and tug your phone out again. Shit. Class started ten minutes ago.

Part of you wants to call it a day, end the search here and try again on Wednesday. Maybe take a few extra minutes to scout out the building next time and have some idea of where you’re going before the start of class.

Ugh, why is this so stressful?

It’s the first day of classes. Surely Professor Shigaraki won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late; besides, if you’re lost, others must be too.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and resume the hunt. Two hallway turns later, you find your mark.

Your hand pauses beside the heavy wood, and you take a steadying breath. Again, why are you so nervous? Just go in and take a seat, it’s easy, stop freaking out over nothing.

The door groans open, hinges protesting the sharp push, and you stumble into a darkened room. The low glow of the projector doesn’t help your blurry vision. Ah, shit, it’s one of those older rooms, so it’s built like a bad movie theater. Oh well, better get to a seat before he spots you.

Swiftly, you make your way toward the raised steps of the aisle and the second row of chairs, plopping into the first one you reach that’s empty. You’re too busy fiddling with the zipper of your backpack to notice that the speaker has stopped his rasping preamble, but as you pull your laptop out the ominous weight of that heavy silence hits you and you toss a hooded stare toward the front of the lecture hall.

Immediately, your eyes land on the professor’s and you feel a low shiver shake up your spine.

He’s watching you.

The gleam of the overhead projector makes his red eyes flash, and he openly scowls at your gaping expression, his lips curling into a dark sneer.

“Well, thank you for joining us, Miss…?”

He’s waiting for your response and you squeak out your last name, mindlessly rubbing your moistening palms against your thin skirt.

“Ah, Ms. (L/N). Now that you’ve graced the class with your belated presence, may I continue?”

“Uh,” you gasp out, your mouth dry, tongue sticking to your teeth, “I’m sorry. I got–”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation, or in your case, an excuse. Or are you now attempting to disrupt this class purposefully?”

“Wha– I-I’m–” your words stumble to a halt, voice failing under the intense glare that he’s giving you. “No,” you finish lamely, ducking your head, nails digging into your sweaty palms.

“Thank you. Do me a favor, stay after class.” His voice is gravel, threatening and low. You don’t like the edge in his tone. It makes your skin prickle and your knees knock. He sounds like the kind of guy that you don’t want to run into in a dark alleyway, or a classroom, for that matter. Even so, it’s not your fault, and despite your feelings of unease, you can’t tamp down your need to protest his unreasonableness.

“But, professor, I didn’t mean to–”

“If I need to repeat my insistence for silence, I’ll make things easier on both of us and fail you now.”

Stunned and fuming, you bite your tongue and lean back into your chair, crossing your arms and blinking back mounting tears of frustration. Great, just great. It’s the first fucking day of class and it looks like you’re already on his shit list. And for what? For being late on fucking syllabus day! What an ass.

You look over at him as you defiantly finish setting up your computer, hoping each pull of a zipper or screen reboot will grate under his stuck up skin. He’s not inordinately tall, or old. In fact, he looks like he might only be in early 30s. He has long white hair that’s pulled back into a low ponytail and, from what you can make out in the dim lighting, some kinda skin condition on his forehead. That, or he’s prematurely wrinkled, and let’s be honest, if he’s gone through life with that big of a stick up his ass, he deserves each and every pull on that mottled skin of his.

You linger in your seat when class is over, lips pulled into a thin line and legs crossed. Finally, when the last student has left the room, professor Shigaraki flips a switch beside his elevated podium, filling the lecture hall with a sharp, fluorescent light. He pauses by his raised computer system and clicks off the overhead projector, blanketing the massive room in an uncomfortable silence.

“Since you missed the part of class where I go over the syllabus, I’ll give you a brief rundown. Under no circumstances will I tolerate tardiness. If you do it once more I’ll mark you absent and three absences knock you down a full letter grade.”

Glumly, you cross your arms and peer up at him, finally able to get a good look at his face. Your first observation was correct. His skin is sharper around his forehead, but his wavy white hair does a pretty decent job of covering up the imperfections. He has two scars: one nicks across his right eye and the other splits down his rough lips, parting the skin and granting him an even more foreboding appearance than his already gruff demeanor does. He’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans and he’s wearing a low slung v neck shirt. It’s a brilliant red and it brings out that otherworldly glint of his red eyes. Shit, you think bitterly, while he’s not conventionally handsome, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes either.

You shake your head against these unproductive musings and curtly snap out a clipped, ok.

“What was that?” Shigaraki scoffs, tilting his head at your sullen figure. “Speak up.”

“I said,” you bristle, eyes narrowing and chin lifting, “Okay, I apologize for interrupting your lecture, it won’t happen again. But, in my defense, if I’m allowed to do that in this class, I’ve never been in this building before, and it’s not like–”

“You’re a senior, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then you’ve had four years to figure out the layout of this university. The excuse of ‘being lost,’ isn’t an option for you. You know the buildings and you’re fully capable of turning up early to sort out the rooms.”

You let out a long sigh and look away, mumbling vague protests. This guy is ridiculous. You’re not a science major and it’s not your job to know the ins and outs of each building. How fucking stupid. Who does he think he–

“Speak up. I won’t ask you again.”

You bite your lip and look back at him but he’s moved in that distracted moment, silently stepping down from his raised platform and is now leaning over the first row of chairs, looming over you. You can’t help your sudden flinch as you sink further into your chair, away from him.

“If you’re gonna complain, Ms. (L/N), I’d much rather hear it. Don’t you think It’s rude for you to mutter under your breath about me? You don’t see me doing that to you.”

“Fine,” you blurt out, turning away from his insistent, and all too close, gaze. “I was saying that I’m not a science major. I get that I’m a senior, but you can’t seriously expect me to know every nook and cranny of this campus.”

“No, but I can ask for you to be a little more thoughtful. I put time and effort into my lessons and I won’t have you undermining them by bouncing in here with those legs and that flouncy little skirt.”

You’re about to counter his little haughty speech on politeness when you finally process that final comment he’d breathed out. Flabbergasted, you raise your head back to his, but he’s already moving away, snatching up his shoulder bag and waving you a curt goodbye as he presses open the squeaky door. “Next class is at 10 am sharp, so be on time Ms. (L/N).”

You’re still slumped in your seat when the door glides shut again, your eyes wide and jaw no doubt comically unhinged.

Wait. Did…did he really just say that?

Obviously, for the next class, you’re early. You’re so early that you’re the first one in the lecture hall. You select a seat toward the back and fiddle with your computer, checking your messages, adjusting your brightness, replying to old emails, anything to keep your head down and attention occupied.

The door opens and, despite your best efforts, your head flies up, expectant and tense, ready to meet those red eyes of his head on, to show him you’re here and he better… oh. It’s not him. It’s two chattering freshmen. One of them gives you a quick smile, but they both quickly take their seats, a few rows over, and continue their soft conversation, leaving you to fall back onto your earlier distraction tactics. You twiddle with your phone and shoot off a few texts, change your wallpaper, accidentally close an app you meant to leave open, and then the lecture hall door reopens.

He steps in slowly, completely ignoring you and the other scattered students, opting to sort out a few papers and set up his login on the school computer. The minutes tick by and you can’t seem to jerk your eyes away from him, suddenly fascinated by his languid movements. He looks more relaxed than he did on Monday, looser and fluid, completely in his element. True to his word, at ten am on the dot he begins class.

Professor Shigaraki has an interesting voice. It’s low, calculated, bordering on a rasp. It’s one of those tones that makes you want to lean forward and listen up, even though he’s only discussing cellular biology. Which isn’t exactly the sexiest topic for that shockingly dulcet timbre of his.

Wait. Sexy?

Your pen falters against your notebook, and your eyes drift up to his frame. He’s switched the lights off again and the shine of the overhead projector is the only illumination in the hall. His white hair gleams in the dim lighting and his long hands animatedly illustrate his points, elegant fingers opening and closing, gesticulating about the intricate nature of the human genome. You’re so focused on watching his movements that your elbow partner has to push the slip of paper onto your collapsible desktop. You blink at the sheet, your pen nearly clattering from your hand, and you twist to peer at the unfamiliar student beside you.

“It’s the attendance sheet and, um, I think you’re the last one,” they whisper, careful to lean away after they finish their explanation, not wanting to draw professor Shigaraki’s ire. You maneuver the paper under your pen and scribble down your name, biting your lip and silently berating yourself for your poor selection in seating. Great, now you’ll have to take the paper down to him after class. What if he talks with you again? Shit.

At 11:25, class ends. You collect your things and plod down the steps, the attendance sheet clutched between your fingers. He’s just snapping the projector light off when you reach his podium.

“I, uhh, have the attendance. You want me to just leave it here, or…”

“I’ll take it,” his hand is extended toward you and those red eyes are fixed on you now. It’s not the same disgruntled stare he’d given you on Monday. No, this look is a little more curious. Again, you’re taken aback by your reaction to him. He’s not even saying anything, just patiently waiting for you to deposit the sheet into his open palm, but there’s something about him that’s making your heart race.

Maybe it’s those eyes of his.

They are an unusual color and they have a strange intensity to them. Right as they narrow, the vermillion shining under the sharp lights; you press the paper to him and he pulls it from you, studying the names that are listed.

You want to say something. Maybe toss him a quick, friendly, goodbye. Or apologize for the other day? Ugh. What can you even say? ‘Gosh, so glad I was on time today! All that fascinating information about the genetic code! So glad to be here!’ No, that sounds stupid and a little patronizing. Besides, why do you want to talk with him at all? He’s an ass, remember?

“Did you need something?”

His question snaps you out of your stupor and you numbly shake your head at him, already lowering your gaze, but his exhaled chuckle makes you pause, your fingers curling around your backpack straps.

“I know I upset you the other day, but I appreciate you taking the effort to correct your mistake.”

“Oh,” you breathe, your eyes finding their way back to his. “Yeah, well, like you said, I’m a senior. Gotta take responsibility for myself someday.”

“Ah,” he smirks, that long scar on his lip quirking upward. “Seems like you’ve got some determination after all. You might be more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

“God,” you scoff, popping out a hip and crossing your arms at the bemused leer on his face. “Just come right out and say you think I’m a bad student, why don’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” he amends, tucking the attendance sheet into his shoulder bag and snapping the clasps closed. “There’s plenty of time for you to end up right back at square one with me.”

He’s already halfway out the door by the time you right yourself from the shock of his last comment and you follow him, a string of low curses falling from your lips.

The spring semester always flies by, and before you realize it, a full month has bled away. You’ve kept that same seat in Shigaraki’s class and at the end of each session you head down to his little platform, attendance sheet outstretched. Each day of class has a different ebb and flow. Sometimes he chats with you and it’s gotten easier to talk with him, both of your eyes holding and lingering, lips raised into calculating smiles. Sometimes it almost feels like he’s flirting with you. Other days he only spares you a curt nod, his white hair curtaining his expression from your curious gaze. You’re not bothered by these silences, not when you’ve got your secret weapon.

The days that you like best, the ones that you plan, sorting through your closet until you’ve found the perfect choice, are the days when you wear one of your skirts. You’d even gone on some skirt shopping sprees as of late. On those days he doesn’t just make some sort of fleeting eye contact with you, no, on those days he stares.

At first, you’d tested out your theory, staggering your outfits, careful to not screw up your suspicions with a hasty miscalculation, but as they say, the third time’s the charm. How did he expect you not to notice? He never bothers to hide those sharp ogles and recently you’ve made a point of dramatically gathering your things when you wear these cute little ensembles, bopping down the steps so his eyes have to work to follow the line of your hips and the long paths of your bare legs. One rainy afternoon you’d worn over the knee stockings, that came to an abrupt halt over the plush skin of your upper thigh, under your mini skirt and he’d practically leapt over the podium to grab the sheet from you, his eyes hooded and dark, almost wild.

“Test, on Friday,” he warns, eyes finally rising to meet your bemused expression. “Don’t stay out too late tonight.”

“What makes you say that?” you ask, brushing at a rogue fold in your skirt, luring him back to your legs.

He scoffs at you, that jagged scar arching into a smirk. “Humph. You’re dressed up. Most of the students just wear the sweats, or pjs, and call it a day.”

“I like to put a little effort in all that I do,” you retort, grinning up at his vermillion stare.

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. You certainly look the part…and you’re keeping up with the workload of this course.”

“Ahhh,” you crow, clapping your hands excitedly. “Are you saying I might get an ‘A’ in this class? Be the first time someone’s done that in a while, from what I’ve heard around campus.”

Shigaraki sneers and tuts out an inaudible reply, leaning a little closer to you, making you inadvertently fall back a step. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Awe,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing ok on all the quizzes and the classwork.”

“So far,” he taunts, his pearlescent hair falling over his broad shoulder.

“Tch. Don’t be like that. I’ve been studying.”

“Sometimes it takes more than that.”

“Oh?” you smile, raising your chin. “What else should I be doing, professor?”

“We’ll know that after Friday, won’t we?”

God.

You’d felt so confident when you’d turned in your test and that stupid, horrible, sexy little quirk of his lip scar that he sends you, when you’d handed him your papers, carries you on some strange, half aroused cloud all weekend. Maybe, just maybe, this class won’t be so bad after all.

The tests are handed back the following Friday, passed from row to row so everyone can fish out their papers and marked Scantrons. Yours, since you still occupy that final seat on the back row, is the last. Biting back a grin, you flip it over, so ready to see that A, that grade that you worked so fucking hard for, that… wait.

The gross flash of red across the top of your paper leaves you reeling, your breath catching against the back of your throat. It’s not a terrible grade, well, it wouldn’t be, but there are only three tests in this class, so it’s going to plummet you down to a B. One more fuck up will leave you with a C, or worse, an automatic failing grade.

No. No, no, no, no.

You can’t afford a bad grade, you honestly can’t even let yourself slip to a B. Your fucking cap and gown have just come in and with them that cord that you can wear around your neck at graduation. The one that marks you as honors cum laude. Fuck. You’re already pulling one B, in one of your other classes, because you’ve been focusing so much time and effort on this one. Another B will strip that cord from you, leaving you barren, with a less than ideal GPA.

God fucking damn it.

You glare up at Shigaraki, who’s busy taking the rest of the class through a review of genetic mutations, but you can’t hear him anymore, too incensed, too overwhelmed to even care about what he’s saying. The test crumples under your fingertips, the paper shaking in your hands, and you seethe, your teeth biting your lower lip to pieces.

It’s not fair. You’d paid attention. You’ve taken all the notes. Read all the chapters. Drilled and studied till your eyes had drooped, heavy with exhaustion. You’ve done it all right. Plus, he’d been so fucking flirty, so open with you. You’ve never chatted with a professor this way, never gone out of your way to wear clothes they like, that make them watch you, their eyes hungry pinpricks as you walk to them, mindful of the luscious sway of your hips.

No. Fuck him. Fuck this class.

Before your elbow classmate can leave, you ask for them to hand in the attendance sheet. You barely hear their response, too busy slamming your laptop into your backpack. As you storm past the podium, you can feel his eyes on you. The distant sensation of his gaze makes your flesh prickle, but you ignore your involuntary reaction and shove your way out the door.

“(Y/N), you can’t switch classes this late. It’s almost midterms. Besides, I don’t think anything has opened up and if you’re going to drop it, you’ve gotta get the signature of the professor,” your advisor tells you, blinking at your stony expression over his thick glasses. “I don’t get it. Why do you want to drop it? Your grades are alright and it’s just one test. You can always try–”

“Gimme the paperwork.”

Shigaraki’s office is on the top floor of the research building, tucked away down another winding and weaving hallway that once again requires your careful inspection to navigate. When you finally hit the right set of doors, you slowly make your way forward, counting the numbers up as you pass. His door is wide open, a yawning cavern that’s filled with the distant light of a lamp. You brush a hand down your skirt, smoothing away any wrinkles and steadying your nerves.

You’d tossed on the skirt this morning, before you’d gotten the grade, and you hadn’t thought to go home and change, too consumed by that simmering rage bubbling within you. And now, like this fucking class, this skirt felt like a mistake, something stupid and vapid that you wished you had time to change out of. He’d told you he liked your attire, liked that you put effort into your outfits. At the time, you’d been so thrilled and excited that he’d complimented you, but now you wish you were confronting him in baggy jeans or lazy sweats, anything that would turn that avid gaze of his away from you.

Lost in thought, you waver beside his open door, nibbling on your lips and tugging at your clothes. It’s now or never. No point in putting it off. What’s the worst that can happen? What can he do now? Or, a darker side of you whispers, what do you want him to do to you? What? That’s a stupid thought, you scold yourself, lifting a hand to the wall and rapping against the beige paint, announcing your presence.

When the sound fades away, swallowed up by the empty and darkened hallway, you poke your head around the corner, searching for him. His head is tilted quizzically, and he blinks twice when he spots you, that all too familiar smirk lifting his lips.

“Ah, Ms. (L/N), what can I do for you?”

His voice is softer than usual and your name sounds like honey, his tone resting on the syllables and consonants for a beat, almost as if he’s savoring their lift, their sound. You can’t help but swallow heavily at his appraisal. Suddenly this may be a terrible idea.

Ugh. Get a grip (Y/N).

“I-I need you to sign this withdrawal paperwork,” you finally reply, digging in your bag and tugging out the thin leaflet, holding it out to him. He’s silent after your demand, meditatively threading his fingers and peering up at you, his red eyes bright.

“Step inside and shut the door behind you,” he instructs, his gaze never falling from yours. Despite the simplicity of his request, you can’t help but bristle at his imperious tone. Why does he always have to sound like that? Like he’s seconds away from taking control of the situation, or of you? He’s always one stupid step ahead, and no doubt he’s going to try and talk you down. Or, he’ll sign it and say that he always knew you were a screw up, someone who only did things halfway, who could never match up to his lofty expectations. Humph, the sooner you’re outta here and out of his class, the better. So, you obey, closing the door and petulantly flopping into the unsteady chair that sits in front of his low desk.

He maintains that uneasy quiet, his red eyes whisking over your disgruntled face, waiting, watching. Unable to take this strange standoff, you push the university paperwork toward him, sliding it as close as you dare to his bent elbows. “I would like to withdraw from your class,” you repeat, lips setting into a thin line.

“Why?” he asks, cocking his head so his loose white hair falls a little further down his rough brow.

“Something came up.”

“Hmm, I can try to work with a new schedule, if it’s your job, or home life,” he counters, eyes narrowing as he sharpens his observations of your brittle expression.

“It’s not that,” you smart, crossing your arms. Great, he’s going to make this difficult.

“Then I suggest you tell me what’s on your mind,” Shigaraki replies, mirroring your movements and leaning back in his chair.

“I don’t think this class is working out for me.”

He exhales a soft laugh at your lie, and you watch that tiny mole at the edge of his chin lift in his quiet mirth. “This is a freshman level course and you’re a senior. You’re in my class because it’s likely the last pre-rec that you need to take before you graduate.”

“Um, yeah. But–”

“And now, you’re wanting to drop it because of one poor grade.”

You grind your teeth and fix him with a stark glower. “I–”

“There will be two other tests. If you read your syllabus, you’d know this.”

“I read the syllabus. Your tests are worth a stupid amount of points and it only takes one of them to tank my grade.”

“Frankly, you did better than most of the class. You only need to work on practical application. I said that the written portion would be a major component of the exam. I also provided you with a review and a rubric. So I’m not sure–”

“Your grade drops me to a ‘B’, and that ‘B’ pulls me from the honors list. And… well… I thought that…”

“Oh? What did you think?” he presses, his voice suddenly dropping to that lower octave it had drifted into when he said your last name.

“I thought I’d get a better grade,” you spit out, turning your head and biting at your lip again.

“Why?” he counters simply. His obtuseness is making your blood boil.

“What do you mean, why?” It takes all of your will to not slip a ‘jackass’ into that question.

“It’s not a hard thing to answer. I graded you fairly and according to my rubric. Why exactly do you feel you merit a different grade than the one you earned?”

You fall into a frustrated silence. You can hear your heart pounding against your ribs and you want to scream at him, to leap over his desk and shake him until his teeth fucking rattle. Your shoulders are rising and lowering disjointedly and his vermillion eyes are honed in on your face, shifting over your pinched expression with a distant interest. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes and you hastily rub a fist over them, brushing away any rogue drops of moisture.

“How can you ask me that? You think I didn’t notice you staring at my legs? Or that you always had something to say to me when I was wearing a skirt? What was I supposed to think, huh? I fucking thought shit like that was gonna help, ok? God, I’m so stupid. I can’t… fuck.”

Shigaraki arches forward when you finish, a deep sigh leaching through his parted lips. His teeth snap together when you look up at him, your eyes gaining back some of that earlier defiance, and he gives you a quick grin, clearly pleased by your shift in attitude and pushes your paper aside, fixing you with a dark look. “Here’s a thought, since you feel you’re so different, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you a chance to make up the score.”

“I don’t care about the score anymore. I wanna drop your class,” you snap, but it’s a halfhearted barb. Something has changed in his demeanor. He’s dropped the concerned professor act and is leaning so close you can hear his steady intakes of air. He’s only a few inches away; if you want, you could touch him.

“I doubt you want to attend a class in the summer. Besides, they won’t let you walk if you haven’t finished your freshman level courses. And you can’t tell me you don’t want to graduate, to earn that cord that lets you into the honor cum laude. So stop pouting and hear me out. I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever like anything about you,” your voice is sharper than you mean it to be, but the challenge makes Shigaraki smile. As it crosses his cracked lips, it pulls that scar up and it makes those eyes of his glow. He looks like the cat that’s got the cream and you’re not sure how to respond, so you cross your legs and wait for him to make the next move.

“You sure about that? Well, I’ll have to change your tune then, won’t I? But that can wait, lemme tell you what my requirements are. I’ve got a copy of the textbook in here. I’ll have you review some of the major concepts, you’ll read the passages aloud so I’m sure you’re on the right track, you’ll hand the book back to me, and then I’ll verbally quiz you over the material. If you answer them correctly, I’ll bump you to an ‘A’ on your test.”

You have to actively work to keep your mouth closed. “So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And… answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Your eyes boggle and you have to clench your thighs tighter, your stomach churning, you feel light-headed and you can feel your core fluttering with your sudden arousal. “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Stop gaping at me like that, you’ll make me blush. Now come on.”

Your jaw snaps closed and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind from your whirling emotions. He takes this reaction as a surrender and stands, stepping toward a marred table that rests a little ways away from his desk. He licks his thumb pad and flips through a few pages before finally settling on an appealing section. Once he places it on the table, he twists back to you and crooks a finger your way. “Come here,” he orders, his voice deep and languid. Obediently, you rise on unsteady feet, hands tugging at the length of your skirt, careful to keep it pressed down as you walk toward him.

He makes space for you to stand in front of the book and shifts back, one hand resting on the table, propping him close to your bent figure. You look up at him, but he only nods his head toward the table, a wicked smile curling the corners of his lips. Blink a few times but finally, the words clear and you can see the block of text that’s in front of you. It’s passages on DNA encodes and RNA proteins, hefty stuff, things that you had to make flash cards for. This isn’t going to be easy. If anything, he’s picked some of the harder concepts, the ones that take steady knowledge in the foundations. Flustered, you look back to him, but he’s moved. He’s leaning against the wide window beside the table, a dark mark against the glass.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a laugh bubbling in his tone.

“There’s no way…” you stammer, shaking your head at him.

“Want me to throw a curve in?”

“I should ask what kinda curve, but knowing you, it’s likely gonna be something terrible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he rumbles, stepping away from the window and leaning close to your stiff form. “It just takes an open mind and some enthusiasm on your part.”

“Enthusiasm?” you question, trying your best to withstand his closeness. You can feel the heat radiating off of his broad shoulder and if you tilt a little nearer, you could graze against him, or feel his breath on your skin.

“You’re right,” he amends, his forearm contacting your side. You startle at the touch, a gasp falling from your lips, but you don’t pull away and you can’t stop staring up at him, your eyes wide. “Obedience is a better word. From here on out, whatever I tell you to do, I expect you to obey it, although it’s not exactly, ah, school approved.”

“You want me to suck you off or something?” you sneer, hoping to stumble him off his guard, even if it’s only for an instant. Too bad he’s always one step ahead.

“Don’t be vulgar. Think outside of the box, (Y/N). Do you think I’m going to go for something so short sighted when I could have you bending to my will? Obeying every little demand that I make? I’d much rather see if that skin of yours tastes as good as it looks, then simply have you on your knees. No, I want you to fucking scream for me while I stuff you full of my cock. But first, you need to put in some work. You should know that by now.”

Oxygen is suddenly very hard to come by and you can feel your mind hazing over as you stammer up at him, your mind flitting from word to word disjointedly. Shigaraki grants you a wolfish grin, and he dips his lips beside your ear, whispering over those tiny hairs that rest against your tender skin. “I’ll make this part easy. Nod and I’ll give you the first set of instructions.”

What did he say? Nod? What happens when you nod? Fuck, why are you letting him do this? Is your grade really worth it? Are you that desperate that… that…

Shigaraki is whispering other promises over you as you war with yourself, speaking his words gently, slowly, his breath hot as it fans over your neck. It’s like you’ve fallen under some kinda spell and before you realize it, your traitorous head is bobbing up and down, letting him know you want him to keep going.

“Perfect,” he sighs, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear, jerking a shiver from you. “Now, lean forward and put your hands against the table.”

You do as he says, but he’s not satisfied with your positioning, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and yanking you forward, jutting your ass out and pressing your chest down, maneuvering you until your nose is right above the pages of the textbook. “There we go,” he rasps, pulling away so he can admire your splayed form. “Hmm, your legs are too close together. Spread them.” Knees trembling, you obey, gasping when he runs a palm against the curve of your thighs.

“You’ve got such nice legs (Y/N), so let’s put them on display, shall we?” His fingers search against the top of your skirt and they still when he reaches his prize: the zipper. When he pulls it down, you let out a sharp squeak of protestation but he silences you with a swift pinch to your side.

“Now, now, don’t be like that. You nodded, remember? Besides, you could have left when I told you I’d give you a curve but you couldn’t help yourself could you? You want me to keep going and to do that, I need you to take this skirt off. No, don’t move. I’ll get rid of it for you. Why don’t you focus on the task at hand, hmm? Aren’t you supposed to be reading for me?”

You arch away from his fingers and he chuckles at your impudence, one large hand hooking under your chin and pulling you toward his face. His red eyes blaze as they find yours, the dark pupils threatening to swallow up that deep vermillion. “Let’s start with the second paragraph. If you do well, I might grant you a reprieve.”

Jerking your face from his grip, you twist back to the text, trying, and failing, to ignore his inquisitive fingers, unable to resist sighing as he works one up your inner thigh. He pauses when no words fall from your lips and you grumble out a few low curses before acquiescing to his silent demand.

“The flow of genetic information in cells from DNA to mRNA to protein is described by the Central Dogma, which states that genes specify the sequence of mRNAs, which specify the sequence of proteins. The decoding of one molecule… the… the… molecule… by spec-specific…”

He’s slipped your skirt down over the swell of your ass, but he’s taking his time, flexing out the front of the material and dipping his fingers over the bump of your lower stomach, kneading into the delicate flesh that’s stretched out for him. You can’t help the twitch of your spine and you involuntarily wiggle, palms slipping forward, dragging you further along the tabletop. Shigaraki chuckles above you, running his rough lips over the back of your neck.

“You’re so sensitive. I’ve barely touched you.”

He circles his hands back to your skirt and edges it along, lowering it sharply on one side and then giving the same treatment to the other. You’re doing your best to keep up with your stammering readings, but it’s difficult when he keeps sighing and running his long nails across your newly bared skin. Finally, he works the skirt down and it thumps against your bare ankles; the fabric tickling your skin.

Meanwhile, his other fingers skitter against the elastic band of your rapidly dampening panties. Once he hooks the lace under his hand, he yanks them along your legs, trailing them sinfully slowly, ensuring that they glide down the billow of your thighs. His teeth nip at your ear when you stumble to a halt in your recitation and your hands tense over the grains of wood beneath them, your nails pinching into your palms. “If you stop, I stop,” he warns, his head bumping against yours, his sharp nose pressing against your pulse.

“You’re not exactly making this easy,” you grumble, doing your best to ignore his renewed pets and strokes.

“Stop complaining,” he smirks, leaning away from your head to peer at your newly exposed flesh. “You better pay attention to what you’re reading or you’re not going to pass the questions I’ll be asking you.”

“Yeah, yeah, ow!” you squawk, whipping your head around to glare up at him. He fucking pinched you again! This time, he’d slipped his hand between your spread legs and tweaked your inner thigh, painfully.

“Read,” he repeats, running those guilty fingers upward, lingering beside the heat of your cunt, careful to not get too close. When you start on the next sentence, one of his hands tugs up the fabric of your shirt, snaking upward until he’s thumbing against the wire of your bra. Once again, you falter to a halt and exhale a wavering breath.

Goddamn it. This review is no review. You’ll be lucky if you can even recall what a cell is if he keeps this up. You hear his ominous intake of air and quickly resume your recitation, mumbling something about RNA and mRNA differences.

Wait. Didn’t you just…

“Looks like you’re having trouble listening to me. I told you to read aloud, not to repeat the same passages over and over.”

“Hey, at least I’ll have a firm grasp on those. You should ask me something about that s-section… ah–”

The hand that was resting under the cup of your bra has made its way underneath the lightly padded material, and his thumb and index fingers have trapped your peaked nipple between them. As soon as your snarky comment left your mouth, he’d twisted the bud, squeezing it until it throbbed.

“Pay attention,” he commands, shoving your bra upward, freeing the globes of your breasts and cupping both of his broad hands under them. Your abused nipple stings and the mixture of sharp pain and jarring arousal goes right through you, stoking that coil that pulsed within your core, and sending a tacky flush of your essence down your spread thighs.

The next few words are a struggle. The text keeps blurring and your breaths are coming in fast and heavy. Shigaraki is still feeling you up, keeping his lips close to your ears, rasping sharp commands to you and dealing out lightning fast rounds of pinches and squeezes each time you falter.

“I–I can’t… I don’t even know what I’m reading anymore,” you bemoan, your hips pressing against the edge of the table, legs trembling as you attempt to keep them apart. He’s deliberately ignoring your throbbing clit and a desperate edge is creeping into your voice.

“Are you always this whiny? Fine. I’ll give you a moment to read without any distractions.”

Thank God.

True to his word, he slips away from your back and you’re left shivering against his sudden absence. Despite your quaking, you’re determined to make the most of this chance and you quickly read out the paragraphs that are on the second page. As you ramble down to the last bit of text, you realize you can’t hear him anymore and when you finish the last sentence; you start to really wonder where he’s drifted off to. A tense silence follows your completion of the material and you arch up on the tips of your toes, jutting your ass out and stretching the stiffened muscles of your lower back.

“Didn’t say you could stop reading, and judging from all of your complaints, I don’t think you got some of those earlier concepts, so I’d suggest doing a quick review,” he taunts, the sudden rasp of his voice startling a low gasp from your lips.

He’s close; somewhere behind you and to the left from the sound of it. You try to twist around, your chest lifting from the table, and when he notices, his hands return, creating a rough pressure against your neck as he forces your body back down. His weight plasters you to the surface, scraping your partially exposed stomach and tender breasts over the nicked wood. Shigaraki is merciless in his swift correction, his breath puffing out angrily behind you. “Didn’t say you could move, either.”

Stunned, you freeze. Your arms are arched awkwardly, but he keeps his weight against you, flattening your breasts and forcing your back to arch into an awkward bend. Fuck, you think, how are you supposed to stay like this? Your legs are already aching and if he shifts away again, he’s likely going to expect you to maintain this absurd pose.

“Yes,” he groans, his voice catching against the word, “Good girl. Now, stay just like that.”

Damn it.

“Go on, read the first part again,” he instructs.

“The entire genetic content of a cell is known as its genome and the study of genomes is gen-genomics. In eukaryotic cells, but… but not in p-prokaryotes, DNA forms a complex with histone proteins… with histone proteins… sub-substance… of…”

His teeth have latched onto your neck, and he’s sucking bruises into your tender skin. He’s still pinning you to the table, but his hands are widening their explorations. He’s started dragging a fingernail across the puffy folds of your cunt, teasing against the dripping and swollen flesh, chuckling when you buck against his hold.

“You always seem to lose it when you get to cellular modulations.”

“I–I–It’s not… I can’t help that you keep…” you whimper, your fingers curling under your palms, head shaking back and forth. You can’t think. He’s not being fucking fair, and you can’t even string your goddamn words together. Shit. “Y-you’re not being fair,” you accuse, falling on the only thing that keeps running through your mind, your splayed feet shifting uncomfortably under you.

“Not fair? Not once did I say fairness would come into this arrangement,” he lifts himself off of your back and leans beside you, one arm planted beside your crooked elbow. His fingers trace over the curve of your ass, cupping at the thickest part of you and squeezing.

“But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a little satisfaction out of this arrangement. I bet you look good when you cum. And you’ve been working so hard to get my attention these last few months. So careful to do what I tell you. Looking at me with those big eyes of yours, all wide eyed every time I catch you looking at me. And don’t even get me started on your lips. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking bend you over after class, especially when you started wearing all of those cute little skirts for me. Ahhh, don’t moan like that, I won’t be able to help myself if you do. Let’s see how you’re doing, shall we?”

Without warning, he slips his longest digit into your cunt, groaning loudly when he’s sucked into your welcoming heat. Your pussy, hungry for any kind of scrap, ripples around his intrusion, clamping and pulling, desperate for more.

“Fuck,” he groans, his weight falling against your shoulder. “You’re soaking.” His elegant digit pushes deeper and you roll your hips under him, urging him closer, sighing when he sinks to the last knuckle. As he pulls his finger back, he adds another, swiftly v-ing the two before curving them together as they slip back out, dragging a steady line of pleasure from your quivering cunt. Shigaraki whispers another round of awed praise against your ear, his voice dark and breathless.

A third digit is added on another trip out, and it creates a ragged sensation within you. It’s close to what you like, but he’s stretching you too far and it’s starting to hurt. He either needs to speed up, or give you a little more pressure. If you can hump your clit against the edge of the table, maybe it’ll give you the friction that you need. When you mindlessly buck your hips, your thighs threatening to lose that spread, he stops, holding his fingers inside you, laughing as you agitatedly try to shift him back into his earlier rhythm.

“So eager. I’d say you’re ready for my questions.”

“W-what?” you gasp, wholly focused on making him restart the push and pull of his fingers inside you.

“I’ll start you off with something easy. What’s the cell membrane?”

“W-what? The cell… ah–”

“Answer me. Now,” he grunts, leaning forward, re-steadying you as his fingers pull outward, dragging against your sensitive folds and schlicking through your arousal lewdly, loudly. You moan and your eyes roll back, completely ignoring his demand as you fall into the haze of pleasure that comes after his movements.

His free hand travels up your neck and he tangles his fingers into the tendrils of your hair, yanking and jerking at the strands, demanding your attention.

“I said, answer me.”

“Shigaraki–I–fuck. I can’t even… ugh… think right now!”

“Do you want the grade, or not?” he questions, his voice tense. “Answer correctly and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I–I don’t think I can,” you whine, pressing your hips back as he thrusts his fingers forward again, curving them upward, searching for the spongy pad of nerves that rest against the front of your pelvis.

“Oh? What happened to wanting that A? What about your graduation? You gonna let me fuck up your entire college career? I can do it, you know. I’ve done it to so many simpering freshmen. I fail kids left and right and you’re no different, (Y/N).

The university lets me ahh–there it is! God, you’re so fucking wet.

Where was I? The university can’t say no to me; they let me do what I want. I bring in too much money, too many tempting grants, and that’s all they really care about. So what’s it gonna be? Let me see that you can answer this basic crap and I’ll pass you. Or would you like for me to tie you down and force it outta you another way?”

He’s picked up the pace of his fingers as he rambles over you and a swift press against that newly discovered spot inside you has you falling to pieces in his hands, popping up onto your tiptoes and rutting yourself against the surface of the table. “O-ok, God, ok! Just–fucking repeat the goddamn question,” you pant, head slumping forward, forcing his fingers to tighten against your hair to hold you upright.

“What is the cell membrane?”

You wince your eyes closed, trying to rack your brain to focus on something other than the heavy pressure of the three fingers that are teasing their way across your dribbling pussy. He’s moving his presses with a lackadaisical, inconsistent rhythm now and it’s hard to fucking think. You can’t tell if his next thrust will be hard, or soft, or so rough that it’s bordering on that bittersweet line of pain.

You shake your head, doing your best to ignore the mounting pressure that he’s building inside you and the ache of your neck and legs. Finally, after another sharp tap against that secret bunch of nerves at the front of your cunt, you latch onto a vague remembrance.

“It… it’s a double layer of–of phospholipids that make a boundary between the cell and t-the surrounding… ugh… it controls the passage of materials.”

“Very good. Elaborate on the cellular wall.”

He’s unrelenting in his domineering treatment, twisting and frigging his fingers each time your breath hitches, and your arousal is leaking down your legs, making your skin stick and pull. It’s too much, you can’t! How can he even ask this? Words are falling from your lips incoherently, and all too soon you’re gasping out his name rather than reciting the answer.

“Cellular–oh, fuck, Shi–Shigaraki–Please, keep–don’t stop! S-Shigaraki, God that… feels… ah–keep going!”

He ignores your request and pulls his fingers away, robbing you of that sweet pressure that he’s so carefully mounted within you.

“I’ll count that one as incorrect. Your ‘A’ is swiftly becoming an ‘A’ minus, (Y/N)” he snarls, his teeth gritted, hands falling to the swell of your hips, wet fingers digging into your soft skin.

“What? No! You didn’t give me enough… e-enough time! How can–can you expect me to answer that qui-quickly!”

“Let’s try another.”

It hurts. That ache that he’s drawn out of you is starting to sting and throb and he’s being such a dick about it! You twist and grind under him, and he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“I don’t–” you protest weakly, your legs trembling and chest heaving under his weight.

“Do you want this? Wouldn’t you like to pass this class? To graduate with honors?” he growls, leaning closer, his hands braced against you, his fingers no doubt leaving bruises on the supple crest of your hips.

“You’re such an ass! Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then answer another question. What’s diffusion?”

“D-diffu-diffusion is the process by which molecules move from an a-area of… of… fuck- of high concentration, to low concentration. Shigaraki!”

“I should count that as another miss, but you got the major concept correct.” He removes his fingers from your waist and yanks your ass toward him, keeping your overeager hips away from the fleeting relief of the sturdy table. “Pop your legs together,” he commands, one hand wrapping around your arched throat, squeezing until you obey. His other hand drops to that thatch of curls that rest between your quivering thighs and he gathers up your gossamer strands, rubbing against your clit for one hazy instant, sending a flash of spots across your vision.

“Mmm, now that’s a pretty sight. Good girl, don’t move,” he reminds you and you want to scream at him. Right before you can spit some frustrated vitriol out, he’s releasing your neck, his hands dropping from your skin and letting you fall back to the uneven surface below. Just before your chin contacts the wood, his hand is back in your hair, tugging you upward, holding you a few inches above the table. The sharp pain makes your scalp tingle and you unconsciously rut against the tempting heat that’s now plastered to your ass. He’s hard. You can feel the stiff bulge of his cock straining against the front of his dark jeans, pressing into the cleft of your posterior.

“T-that’ can’t be comfortable,” you pant, twisting your head so you can look up at him from the curve of your shoulder.

“Oh? You worried about my cock?” he asks, his red eyes flashing down at you challengingly. You don’t bother giving him a verbal response, opting instead to grind your ass up, catching against the jut of his length, earning yourself a low groan. His lips curl when you repeat the motion and you realize you love watching that smug face of his drift into a look of tense pleasure. It makes his scar on his lip flush and those red eyes of his fall to a lazy half mast. He spies your arched brow and pleased grin and pushes himself off of you, leaving you alone and open on the table.

“Keep pushing your luck. I’m more than happy to drop you back to a B.”

“What?” you scoff, teeth clinking together as you clench your jaw. “I didn’t move!”

“No, but you’re trying to take control of this and we can’t have that can we?” Shigaraki sneers. “Now, how shall I punish you?”

“P-punish me?” you stammer, a chill racing down your spine.

“Ah, I know. This’ll really piss you off,” he twists from your strained gaze and walks back toward his desk. What? What the fuck does he mean? You can’t see him from this angle, not with the way your legs are stretched and back is lowered, but it doesn’t stop you from trying, your chin lifting upwards as you do your best to keep him in focus.

Ugh. It’s no use. He’s slipped past your field of vision.

Hearing is likely your best bet, so you shift your forehead back to the table and listen, straining your ears to pick up any morsel. Something opens and closes and you catch the sound of the wheels of his chair as they shift, squeaking across the floor, and the groaning of the springs when his weight is applied to the cheap leather.

Okay, so he’s in his chair. Is he just gonna look at you? That’s not… wait…

There’s a faint clicking sound.

It’s both familiar and unfamiliar to your ears, but once the teeth slide over the last pull, you realize. It’s a zipper.

Oh fuck. Is he going to jerk himself off? With a gasp, your head whips back around. He’s still positioned himself away from you, and you can only just make out the sounds that are accompanying the undoubted rise and fall of his fist. All you can see is a tiny sliver of his body, but you catch sight of the coiling muscles on his neck and you notice that his head is dipped forward, pearl white hair settling across the cut of his collarbone. The one red eye that meets yours is blazing and hungry, it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand up.

God, he’s staring at you, watching you, getting himself off as you’re half naked and bent over a desk in his office, fully subjugating yourself to his whims and fancies for the sake of your grade.

Damn it, (Y/N). This should not be a fucking turn on. You should be disgusted, but the flush of slick that drips down your thigh says otherwise.

He lets out a choked moan, picking up the pace of his hand, letting you hear the click and slip of his palm as it strokes up and down his cock. A shiver echoes up your spine and your hips seem to have a mind of their own, grinding your clenched thighs over the dip of the table, easing the clenching pulsations that your cunt is shuddering through you.

“Look at you, so desperate for my touch that you’re humping the fucking table. Such a dirty girl, and so disobedient. You’ve only answered a few of my questions correctly and yet your slutty little mouth and body keep pushing at me. Making me put you in your place. Let me ask you something, why should I go out of my way to fix your grade when you can’t even prove to me you understand the simplest concepts?

Ah, here’s a thought. What if I told you I’ll wave the other requirements; no more readings, no more quizzes, but I won’t let you cum? What if I just get myself off? You’re putting on a such a good show for me! Why should I bother with seeing that you’re satisfied when that table seems to do the job for you? Sound good? Or would you like for me to come back over there and make you cum?”

“I–I don’t… I don’t want…” You can’t get the words out, your tongue feels leaden between your lips and you can’t think of anything but the steady itch that’s spreading from your clit.

“Speak up,” Shigaraki demands, slowing his jerking fingers. The chair he’s sitting in groans as he leans forward, and his eyes wide as they take in the delicious sight that’s propped before him. “You don’t want to cum? Is that it? You’d like for me to get myself off and leave you there?”

“No!” you cry out, your fingers digging into the scuffed wood of the table. “I-I want you to make me cum.”

There’s a sharp clatter and you jump at the abrupt noise. It must be the chair you think, your heart pounding against your chest, waiting for Shigaraki’s next move. He only lets a few seconds drift by before he presses himself back to you. He leans his broad chest over your back, the front of his legs pushing against the back of yours. His exposed length is wedged firmly against the cleft of your ass and its tempting hardness makes you squirm under him, but he’s propelling you forward, pinning you against the rough wood, and you can only flail uselessly under his control. His lips skim over your neck and he bites into your skin, sucking and licking bruises as he inches closer to your pulse.

You say his name pitifully, wantonly, and he lets out a shaky gasp. Something about your tone has shifted something within him and you can feel his cock swelling, dripping a rope of wet pre-cum down your shaking leg.

He leans away, removing his sticky hardness from your ass. “Seems your priorities have shifted. You’re a little preoccupied right now, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice gravel scraping against your overwhelmed senses. You let out a weak moan and he snaps into action, his fingers pushing under your flattened stomach and tugging against the fabric that he finds. He yanks you upward, pulling your shirt up as he goes. His palms dip under your half lifted bra, and he cups at your breasts, massaging the rounded bulbs and plucking at your peaked nipples. Your head lolls back, and he sucks at your earlobe again, his breath warm and rasping as it passes by.

“Hold still,” he commands.

It’s not an easy position, this stretched upward arch that he’s forced you into, but it’s worth it when you feel his cock pushing between your tensed legs. He doesn’t thrust into you, opting to run his weeping tip against your slippery folds, pressing until his bulbous head is twitching against your pulsing clit.

Goddamn it, you think as he stills, his lips smacking open-mouthed kisses over your shoulder, it’s not enough. You wiggle your hips back and forth and he abruptly exerts a firm pressure against your windpipe, leaving you sputtering and gasping. “What’s wrong? Not happy with this? Do you think you deserve something more? Do you think you’ve earned that?” He shoves you back against the surface of the table, his broad chest following the plane of your back, trapping you under his heavy form.

You’d replied, you know you must have, but you can’t hear yourself anymore, your attention attuned to the warm length that’s pressed against your shuddering folds. You’d likely thrown in a please for good measure because Shigaraki rewards you with a quick peck to your shivering neck and his thumb, swirling it around your clit, creating a cresting ache that leaves you mumbling incoherently, a thin line of drool slipping from your parted lips. As he keeps that faint osculation up, your fingernails scrape over the wood of the table, your feet lifting you onto your toes, curving your back, and shoving your leaking pussy into his open palm.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Shigaraki says, a breathy desperation lingering around the edges of his rasping voice. “But it’s just not enough, right?”

You nod, licking up some of the excess saliva that’s built under your heavy tongue and crane your head back at him. His eyes are the first thing you see. They’re wild, ravenous and glinting with a roughness that makes you whisper out a soft whine. Fuck. It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re not supposed to want him this badly. Goddamn it. Now that he’s caught your gaze, he won’t let you look away, and he presses himself closer, his cock twitching and warm, the tip rubbing back and forth, keeping time with his circling thumb.

“You gonna fuck me, or not?” you finally ask, unsticking your lips and smirking up at his hardened face.

“Tch. Don’t rush me,” he grumbles, removing his hand and teasing cock from your cunt, watching as your body convulses under him, your pussy quivering against the excess stimulation that he’s wrought over you. Your thighs burn, aching to break free from his control, to rub against that throb, that tingling that keeps shuddering outward.

“One more question,” he tells you, lifting his dripping thumb to his lips and sucking off the traces of your arousal. The sight of him licking his pink tongue over his gleaming knuckles almost makes you lose your balance, your arms shaking precariously under you.

“A-another? Come on,” you pout, your eyes following the curve of his wicked lips, watching as his scar quirks upward, amused by your useless defiance.

“Make you a deal, answer it correctly and I’ll give you my cock. Sound fair?”

“Ugh, whatever, just hurry up,” you snap, so impatient and turned on that you can hardly think.

The tip of his cock presses against your sopping entrance, pushing forward just enough to part your dripping folds but stopping before he clears that first, tight ring of flesh. The promise of his dribbling tip makes you lose any semblance of self-control. You thrash under him, but he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“No! Don’t stop! Come on Sh-Shigaraki–Don’t be such a fucking–ah–”

“Do you want this? Do you want my cock?” he growls, leaning over you, his fingers squeezing down, no doubt leaving bruises in the supple crest of your hips.

“Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then you better answer. What are cytosines?”

“They… they’re n-nitrogenous base… fuck… base that pair… that pair with guanine during D-DNA replication… I–please, please, Shigaraki! Fuck me! I want your cock! Fuck me, fuck me!”

Thankfully, he either takes pity on you, or can’t control himself anymore, his hips surging forward, gliding his thick length into your cunt and snarling at the mind numbing heat that waits for him. He keeps driving upward until he bottoms out, sharp hipbones grinding against the plushness of your ass.

He’s not gentle with you, no he’s animalistic and raw, his thrusts papping into you with a terrifying strength. You would have liked something slower, something that lets you enjoy each imperfection and dip that raced along his cock, but this, oh, this is an exception because this is perfect. It’s not what you want, but it is what you need.

The heavy fullness that he’s stuffing you with leaves you breathless, but you somehow manage to gasp out a string of nonsensical praises each time he drives back into you, overwrought by his roughness.

This coupling isn’t kind, isn’t right, and is not healthy, for either of you. No, not with the way he’s using your shivering body, distracted with slacking that euphoric thrum that’s making his cock pulse and swell inside you.

But fuck it feels good and you can’t help but tremble with delight. These intoxicating thrusts of his ram him up against something that’s buried deep inside you, and each time he hits it another star of bright pleasure races through you. The familiar coiling of release is steadily mounting with each rapid fire rut he gives you and if he could just, ah, there’s something that’s… no, fuck, it’s, it’s not going to work. It feels good, but it’s missing one vital ingredient, one thing that he’s neglected to pay attention to, to notice.

Your clit needs to be tweaked and rolled, and right now it’s pulsing away against the table, beating a sad tattoo into the grainy wood. Oh well, you think, head fuzzy, lost in the euphoria of his powerful cants, grinding your ass into his hips as he digs into another teeth chattering thrust. He’ll likely finish soon, and you’ll probably need to get yourself off later. It’s not something new, and it’s not like he’s going to care enough to focus on that, on you. This whole thing has been about control, so there’s likely no room for your own pleasure.

“What’s wrong,” he gasps out, his fingers lifting from your hips to curl beside your turned head.

“What? N-nothing–I–” you pant, eyes rolling back as he hits that spongy patch of nerves again.

“Tch. Hold on,” he interrupts, his voice rasping and breathy. He pulls himself out of you with a grunt and yanks you upward, hauling you onto the tabletop and flipping you on your back, bending your stiffened legs and bracing your knees against his lean forearms.

He holds you apart, spreading you open with his powerful hands. You can see him properly now, and the sight makes your breath catch against the back of your throat. Fuck, he looks good.

His long white hair is draped across his bare shoulders and his eyes are blazing pits of hunger, devouring the sight of you with those red irises. His jaw is clenched, and he glares down at you from his imperious height, his nostrils flaring as he drags in a quick intake of air. To your shock, he gives you a little time to acclimate to this new position, opting to languidly step forward, letting his slippery cock head press and tease at the dip of your opening. But right when you think he’ll move again, he stops, his eyes roving over the lines of your face.

His sudden stillness makes you peer quizzically up at him and you scoot closer, your feet lifting from the table. The movement snaps him out of his stupor and he grabs your ankles, roughly pinning you back down.

“Keep still,” he snarls through clenched teeth, that scar of his lifting.

You nod mutely and he rewards your unquestioning obedience with another powerful thrust, sinking his swollen cock back into your waiting cunt. He lets out a sharp groan and grabs at your hips, jerking you forward, already drifting back into that all-consuming rhythm he’d started earlier. His ruts are a little slower from this angle but, in no time at all, that familiar ache pools in your core, stoking and building at an alarming rate. The driving force of his hips soon has you blinking back spots and distant stars, and this time he adds the all important pressure of his thumb, circling the finger pad over your clit and dragging a broken moan from your quivering lips.

“So that’s what you needed. You close?” he grits out, his lips set in a curled scowl. He’s lost some of that early control, his hips stuttering as they connect with yours, his power lessening, cooling, as he looks for your release.

“I–I think–oh fuck, do that again. Yes! Just–ah!”

He angles your hips upward and gives your clit another quick oscillation, pressing down until you’re gasping. “There you go. That felt good. You’re getting tighter,” he laughs, looming over you, shoving your heaving chest downward as he jerks your hips into him, forcing your body to do most of the motion, making your shoulder blades scrape across the uneven wood. “Cum for me. Fucking cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum and I’ll give you your A, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

Your spine arches as you break around him, your cunt greedily pulling him deeper, slipping him past the barrier of your tender cervix and earning you a weak shout of praise from Shigaraki. Seconds later, he’s pulsing and twitching against your walls, the warm pooling of his cum filling you up and spilling down your spread thighs.

His head drops to your shoulder and the rough skin of his forehead sticks to your sweat dampened flesh. For a long moment you’re both still, each of you struggling to catch your breath, luxuriating in the tingling sensation of release.

“I fucking hate you, you know,” you gasp out, your arms circling his back, fingertips etching vague patterns over his neck and shoulders.

“Ha,” he snorts, “I’ll have to remember that. Don’t worry (Y/N), I’ll pay you back for that little remark next time.”

“Oh? Next time?” you chuckle, moaning as he twists out of your hold and pulls his softening length out of you.

“I’ll fail you on every assignment if you try to keep away,” he threatens, his eyes falling to the gaping mess that he’s left behind. You cross your legs, denying him the satisfaction of leering at your dripping pussy.

“Fine. But next time, fuck me on something softer than a damn table.”

tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @libiraki <--- i’m coming for you. you’re gonna have to read for this, lady. so, uh, i’m officially noneconing you here.

notes: you made it! this thing is a monster & i’m so sorry i can never stfu

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #reader insert #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #bnha smut #9 to 5 collab #bnha degeneracy server #collaboration #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: teacher/student #tw: dubcon #tw: bribery

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djarinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Silent Night - Bucky Barnes

THIS IS A DARK FIC. IF YOU’RE UNDER 18, PLEASE DNI.

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Author: Dina

Word Count: roughly 15k

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x innocent(?)!female reader

Warnings: dark!bucky, dark!fic, 18+, loss of virginity, dubcon, noncon (to be safe), smut, age gap (18 and 36), pwp, unprotected sex, male masturbation, abuse of power, anal sex, somnophilia, anal play, toys, drugging, forced oral, spitting, slapping, slight bondage... a whole lot of things.

Summary: Bucky has always put his best friend’s daughter first. She’s like the niece he never had. He’s recently become more and more infatuated with her, and when he sees a window of opportunity, he decides to act upon it.

A/N: Well damn, here it is! This is a long one 😇 Some of you have read this before, but now it has been rewritten and finished ♡

For Kaley, Sab, Gracie and Nahema. I wouldn’t have finished this without you ♡

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Dear diary.

This is the story of how I really lost my virginity. I know that no one is going to see this, but I figured writing about it would make it seem better. Easier.

It’s something I’ve been reluctant to share with anybody until now. A lot of things have happened since I wrote to you last. You’ve heard about this man before.

He’s been my father’s best friend for years. Since they were boys. Best man at my parent’s wedding, there in the waiting room the day I was born, present at every birthday party since then. Giving me presents, treating me with so much love.

Uncle Bucky, as he’d come to be named in our family, had watched me grow up and I was his princess. The niece he never had. He showered me with everything a little girl could wish for. We had secrets. It was just something that was shared between the two of us.

But once I turned eighteen, something changed in Bucky. His fondness of me turned into an obsession. I felt it like a pendulum changing its magnetic attraction point. Every time he was over at our house, he would become distracted.

I’ve known all along what made him distracted. It was something I reveled in. But he knew he couldn’t do anything while my dad was around. So, he came up with a plan to get me alone.

Friday, 3:21pm

Going away with Bucky for the weekend as a graduation present seemed like everything she had hoped for. She would finally be free from her parents, even if it was only a weekend. She made her way around her room cheerily, throwing some random pieces of clothing along with her bathing suit, a towel and some toiletries into her bag, feeling her stomach jump slightly.

When Bucky had given her a weekend getaway to his lake house as a graduation present last week, she had been overjoyed. Finally, she had the chance to feel a little bit alive, since her parents hadn’t let her celebrate graduation with her classmates.

A gift from your favorite uncle! Had been scrawled into the card in Bucky's messy handwriting. She just knew he’d been standing at the florists, greasy hands stuffed in his pockets, nervously buying 18 red roses for her. Bucky had always made sure she had everything. He was her dad's coolest friend, and he would spoil her as much as he could.

It hadn't taken a lot of persuasion from her side to let her parents agree to hang out with Bucky for a weekend. He'd babysat her before when she was younger, but it was different now that she’d turned 18. The rules they had set were minimum, but they were there. No drinking, no nothing they wouldn’t do. A little more loose than usual, but she appreciated it, nonetheless.

Her parents, Steve and Peggy, had grown uptight over the last few years, and everything was about keeping her safe and keeping boys away from her. There was always an excuse as to why she couldn’t go to a party or why she couldn’t go on a date with Peter, the guy she had been studying with at school.

Peter was a good kid; she knew that much. He never tried anything with her, and always held back when she would flirt with him during their study sessions at the library. Even that one time she’d tried to hold his hand, he’d shrugged her off and excused himself for the day.

She never figured out why he didn’t want her affection, but she found out soon after, when she saw him kiss his best friend just after the graduation ceremony. It’d hurt – a lot – but she figured it was for the better. A day didn’t even pass before she was laughing at her obliviousness.

This year, when she’d finally turned 18, she’d hoped that everything would settle down with her parents and they’d loosen the restraints on her, but she was wrong. Apparently now, there was even more reason for keeping her home and away from boys. She figured they were afraid of her getting knocked up or something along the lines of that.

The only man she’d see on a regular basis out of school was Uncle Bucky. He and her father would always be working on their motorcycles in front of the garage, and she would watch them from her window on the first floor. She’d found her window to be a great place to keep an eye on them – on him.

She knew that Bucky worked out a lot and put a lot of effort into looking good on a daily basis, but there was just something captivating about him when his hands were covered in grease, strands of his hair falling from the half bun at the back of his head, the sweat glistening on his skin in the sun. He was attractive. And very much so.

If he was only ten years younger and not her father’s best friend, she would’ve been more than interested in him. Well, she was interested… But she knew that her father wouldn’t ever allow something like it, let alone… No. It just wasn’t happening.

Detaching herself from her train off thoughts and zipping up her weekend bag, she heard a car honk from the driveway. She made her way over to the window and a smile spread across her face as she saw Bucky’s sleek, black convertible pull up. She hurried over to her bag, making sure she had everything before nearly jumping down the stairs to get out of the house.

“Bye dad! Bye mom!” she yelled just as she pushed open the door, making her way to Bucky who was now leaning against the hood of his car. When he noticed her approaching, he pushed his body off the hood and opened his arms for her, letting her run into his warm embrace with a giggle. A muttered hi was shared between the two of them before he pulled away, walking around the hood to open the car door for her.

Giving her bag to Bucky before he shut the passenger door made her stomach flutter slightly. She hears the trunk opening and closing, and when he slides into the driver’s seat beside her and pulls out of the driveway, he's already telling jokes and making her laugh.

It was gonna be a fun weekend, she expected that much. She had great plans.

Friday, 4:02pm

Arriving at his lake house had her eyes widening. It was like a whole new house. There had been added an extension to the main house since she was here last summer, and the front porch had been painted white. Bucky parked the car, and she threw open the door of the car, getting out in one fluid motion.

"Wow! This is amazing Bucky!" she smiled at him as they both ventured up the stairs to his front porch. Bucky unlocked the door and they both stepped into the house. She’s taken aback once again.

"This is so much neater than the last time I was here!"

The whole place has been fully renovated, and there's newer, modern furniture complimenting the freshly painted walls. She admires the giant painting on the furthest wall and remembers the unfinished canvas that had been sitting untouched in one of her parent’s rooms last year.

“He finished it.” She smiled and stepped closer to it, admiring the thick, colorful paint strokes upon the black background. She heard Bucky’s footsteps behind her, trailing back through his house.

"Check out the view." She hears Bucky's voice from somewhere in the kitchen. She places her bag on one of the chairs in the living room, walking over to the glass sliding doors that lead out to the back garden, and she bursts out into a smile.

The lake you once had to walk through trees to get to, is now visible from where she’s standing. The belt of trees has been cut down, and the trunks has been dug up. She could see further than ever. She could even see the water supply tower that showed where the city began. If she squinted, she could see her parents’ backyard.

"This is incredible! I wish we lived here," she sighed and turned to find Bucky standing in the doorway. If she’d known of the way Bucky’s heart had thumped in his chest at her revelation, her smile would fall immediately. She internally begged to whomever, that Bucky hadn’t noticed her say we. Instead, he spoke up about something else.

"You still have to see the new amenities." A smile tugged on Bucky's lips.

"What amenities?" He knew she’d love what he’d installed for her, and only her. She’d talked about it for weeks on end the past five summers, and during the winter he’d finally found the time and materials to fulfill her dreams.

"The pool." his eyes glinted with something near mischief. Her eyes widened along with her smile.

"You have a pool? That's amazing!" Just the reaction he’d hoped for. He loved it when she lit up like fairy lights, her eyes filling with glee. It made his heartbeat faster in his chest.

"Did you bring your suit?" she didn't know if she heard it right, but it seemed that his voice had dropped an octave. She nodded as she grabbed her bikini out of her bag, making her way to the newly renovated bathroom to change.

Bucky watched her as she with a giggle made her way through his house, her arms wrapped around her form to shield her nakedness from the older man, who subtly tried to not look at her. “You’re not joining me?” her innocent voice filled his ears and he shut his eyes tightly before turning just a bit away from her.

“No, I’ve got some things to do. Maybe later.” His eyes quickly came up as he heard the sliding door open, watching her ass as she made her way from the patio door to the point where she descended the built-in stairs into the newly built pool.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants, the sight of her in her skimpy purple bikini was making the blood flow to his cock at an undeniable speed. He watched as her shoulders shuddered before she dived under water, her perky ass just caressing the surface from below.

He clenched his jaw before turning on his heel, the image of her half naked body burned into his retina. He needed to get it out of his system, and he needed to do it fast. He knew that there was no way he would ever forget what he had just seen, but either way he had to do something about the situation in his pants.

Making his way into the bathroom nearest the pool, he quickly unbuckled his pants and shoved both them and his underwear down to his thighs. His cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach, hard and proud and he spat into his hand before gripping it tightly, letting out a strangled groan.

"Fuck yes, god you're such a fucking tease..." his head rolled back as he moved his hand, keeping a tight grip around the shaft, imagining her lithe body taking his cock, all of his cock. “Bet you know what you’re doing to me. Bet you know how I feel about you.” His last words were followed by a groan.

The veins pulsated beneath his fingers as he let his head fall forward and he opened his eyes, watching as he fucked into his hand. He saw her body before him, drenched in the cool water of the pool, goosebumps rising on her skin, and he let out another strangled groan, god, he was so close.

It was unlike any time he’d ever jerked off to the vision of her. It was intensified – by powers he didn’t know where from. Maybe it was from her being close. So close he could reach out and claim her as his – just like he’d always wanted to.

He felt the well-known tightening in this scrotum, this time so powerful they drove tears to his eyes. God – he wanted her so badly it hurt. Yet, he had to restrain himself for the time being, he thought, as the movements of his hand picking up speed and he sucked in a breath just as he felt the surge of euphoria overcome him, and-

"Oh my god, Bucky I'm so sorry!"

Friday, 4:43pm

The air that hits her when she emerges from the water is cold. She’s shivering as she throws her arms around herself, making her way up the stairs and inside the house.

She has no idea where Bucky went, so light on her toes, arms trying to warm her torso, she makes her way to the nearest bathroom to take a warm shower. Her teeth are clattering, her frame littered with goosebumps as she trod lightly through the slightly warmer house.

She stops on one foot when she hears a sound, a sound that resembles a moan an awful lot. It can’t be. She approaches the half-open door cautiously, thinking her next move over at least a thousand times before she finally gives in and pushes the door open wider, making her halt completely.

There, in all his glory is Bucky, touching himself for whomever may have walked in to see. That whomever being her. She lets out a shriek before turning her back to him. “Oh my god, Bucky I’m so sorry!” She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, the embarrassment warming up her body quickly as she hears a rustling of clothes behind her.

She silently prays that he isn’t mad at her for walking in on such an intimate moment for him. It lit something inside of her, though, seeing him all hot and bothered for her. Everything that she’s ever imagined about him was definitely an understatement. She hears his footsteps behind her and soon after the heat radiating off his chest against her back, before he speaks up.

“Don’t worry about it,” His voice is so deep she can barely recognize it. “The bathroom is all yours.”

She locks eyes with him as he walks past her, his pupils blown wide like she’s never seen them before. She wraps her arms tighter around herself, trying to cover up from his prying eyes. She nods her head slightly before turning on her heel, walking into the bathroom.

She makes sure the door is locked behind her before she strips herself of her bikini, making sure to hang them to dry on the small, heated towel rack, before finding a towel under the sink where he usually keeps them.

The shower she takes is as long as it usually would take, only now her thoughts are occupied with flashes of Bucky touching himself. Why was he touching himself? Her mind wanders to who the reason could be. She knew he’d had a girlfriend named Natasha once – she was beautiful and had lips like the fullest, reddest cherry – she looked like every man’s wet dream.

She also knew from photos that he’d had a long-time girlfriend in high school through college named Dot – brunette and curvy and with the prettiest facial features she’d ever laid her eyes upon – all the women she had known Bucky to date were so beautiful, he could only think of either them or some hot porn stars he’d probably seen online.

But why now while she was here? Her eyes rolled back as she let out a whimper, her fingers gliding between her smooth, velvet lips, the vision of his hand gliding along the smooth skin of his cock letting her imagination run wild.

Her eyes went wide when she realized what she was doing, and she quickly retracted her fingers from where she now felt a certain warmth spread. She let out a deep sigh as she rested her head against the wall of the shower, the warm water still cascading down her back, heating her freezing limbs.

She finished her shower reluctantly before drying herself off, groaning inwardly as she realized she’d forgotten to bring clean panties and even clean clothes with her to the bathroom in the furry of awkward seconds between her and Bucky. She went over the possibilities she had in her head before searching the bathroom, letting out a small yes! when she found one of Bucky’s clean shirts in one of the small cabinets.

Thinking he didn’t mind, she slipped it over her head and vowed to herself to apologize to him when she saw him next. The shirt felt way too comfortable than it should have, and it instantly warmed her torso, before she pulled it down as far as it would go, just below the apex of her thighs.

She let out a sigh before unlocking the door, listening for a few second to hear where Bucky was located in the house. She heard the washing machine click open and she closed her eyes with another sigh, leaving the safe perimeters where she wouldn’t face embarrassment.

Tiptoeing through the hallway, she made her way into the living room to locate her bag. It felt so wrong to walk around Bucky’s house sin panties. She hears steel clashing in the laundry room, startling her. She lets out a small huff of air before pulling out a pair of lace panties from her bag, before sliding them on under the long shirt.

She’s shuffling through her bag when she’s once again startled by Bucky, this time by his voice.

“You’re wearing my shirt.” She whips around quickly with a small yelp, lace bra and t-shirt in hand. Her eyes widen as she realizes what she’s holding, quickly swinging her hands behind her back to hide the garments. He sees them, though, and it relights his fire even more vigorously than before.

“Shit, Bucky.” She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she relaxed under his intense stare. “I’m sorry, I’d forgotten to bring clean clothes with me to the bathroom. I’ll go change right now.” she turns back to her bag to find a pair of pants, laying the garments already in her hand on the couch.

She tenses when she feels a body behind her; a set of hands sliding up her hips, thumbs tracing the outline of her panties over the fabric of her-Bucky’s shirt. She knows his eyes are watching her like a vulture, taking in her legs extending from where his shirt stops, surely imagining what’s hidden underneath. Her breaths come out shaky and she gulps down the lump that has formed in her throat before her eyes flutter closed.

His nose finds its way into her hair, inhaling deeply before exhaling again, his fingers now venturing under the shirt she’s wearing. She feels some kind of warmth spreading where his fingertips graze her skin, just over the fabric of her panties resting on her hip. It’s like his fingers are fire and her hips are timbers – only waiting to be alighted.

“You know…” his voice is still low, just as it was when she encountered him in the bathroom. “I’ve been having a hard time ignoring the looks you’ve sent me.” His fingers slide smoothly from her hip to the middle of her abdomen, slowly tracing small, imaginary circles on her stomach. She shudders under his touch as it brings warmth into her core, and she’s biting her lip to keep a whimper from escaping them.

Bucky was right. She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? He was handsome, funny and so undeniably nice. She wasn’t sure that the attraction she’d felt towards Bucky for the past few years was reciprocated. She was definitely sure now, that his fingertips we’re playing with the hem of her panties.

“Bucky…” Her eyes flutter open as her hand clasps over his, halting his movements from traveling further south. She turns in his arms, facing him, finally taking in his lust blown eyes, his parted lips and the light blush adorning his cheeks. He looks angelic. Young. It makes her heart leap in her chest.

“Tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me this isn’t just something I’m imagining.” His half-lidded eyes search hers in an attempt to ground himself. His right arm comes around her middle to pull her closer, her hands coming up to lay against his chest. She feels the arousal radiating off him. Warmth, and a little further south, hardness.

“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll stop.” His face nears hers, and she feels her heart hammering in her chest. Her breath hitches in her throat when she feels his lips caress hers gently. Just a small graze of soft skin against soft skin, his stubble tickling her chin and his hand tightening its hold on her shirt.

It’s cliché to say that she feels fireworks as his lips grazes hers – maybe from the fact that she’s closer to any man other than her father for the first time, or that she’s just been kissed for the first time. The whole thing is making her head spin, and in that moment, she knows what she has to do.

“We can’t. Not yet,” She breathes out, letting her eyes flutter shut. She feels his warm breath fanning over her lips, the arm around her waist going slack and a deep sigh emitting from Bucky’s throat. He was just about to pull away from her when she grips his shirt in her hands.

“I’m sorry Bucky. I just… You’re my dad’s best friend. I could never look him in the eyes again if we…” she trails off, the embarrassment overcoming her. She looks up at him, eyes glossy from the whirlwind of feelings clashing inside of her. “I’ve never… He’s so strict. I’m sorry if I led you on in any way. I’m not used to male attention.”

Bucky lets out a heartless laugh, taking a step back and brushing her hands off him as if their encounter had never happened. His actions confuse her. He surely must have seen the emotional turmoil she just went through?

“You want burger for dinner? I bought this sauce that’s great with the minced beef.” He turns on his heel and leaves the room without saying anything else. Her brows furrows at his behavior. What the fuck just happened? He leaves her dumbfounded in the living room, her confused eyes following his back until he disappears behind a wall.

In the kitchen, Bucky has pulled out everything he needed to make dinner. His jaw tightens as he goes over her refusal yet again. She’s never what? was his first thought. Then all the pieces clicked when she’d said the next sentence. I’m not used to male attention.

Of course, he knew that she had never been with a guy, let alone a man. Her father told him more than enough, and it made a sinister smile spread along his face, as another branch in his plans takes form.

He will get what he wants.

Friday, 6:32pm

She had expected dinner to be an awkward affair. For her it certainly was – but it seemed like nothing had happened just a few hours before on Bucky’s account. He appeared completely unfazed by his previous actions, and it made her shudder, sitting across from him, picking at her burger. She hears his cutlery hit the plate and her eyes shoot up, seeing the empty plate where his burger had been resting less than five minutes prior.

“So, I’m thinking we have some things to talk about.” His voice startles her, since they had eaten in almost complete silence, the only sound during dinner was the cutlery and chewing.

“What things?” she felt nervous as the words left her mouth, letting her gaze fall back to the burger on her plate. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. She’d been cooped up in his study since their encounter in the living room, not ready to face him until she had to.

“Firstly, what happened in the bathroom.” Her eyes shot up, his eyes looking directly into hers. Her mouth falls open, before closing again. She feels the blush creeping up into her cheeks. “I find it only fair that you’ve seen me masturbate, and I you, seeing that you did touch yourself in the shower.”

Her eyes widen impossibly more, a lump forming in her throat as she took in his words. “You… You watched me?” She blinked before her eyes sought to her burger yet again, the embarrassment becoming too much. How he had noticed her, was a mystery. Surely, she’d heard him leave, but she hadn’t heard him return. Maybe she was caught up in her thoughts… But she was quiet. Wasn’t she? Was there something he wasn’t-

“I heard you through the door, darling. You’re very loud. You know that, right?” She lets out a shaky breath before standing from her seat, backing a few steps from the table, into the living room. She watches as Bucky rises from his seat as well, following her as she tried to make the space bigger between the two of them.

Bucky looks at her longingly. He had to admit she looked breathtaking, even though she was scared and angry. There was a slight twinkle in her eye though, one of which could be a hope to escape whatever he had in store for her. It dawned on Bucky, that she probably had no idea what he had planned to do to her, and he smirked when her eyes darted around, not being able to focus on anything.

“What is you want from me, Bucky?” Her voice was shaking when she finally spoke. He shook his head with a slight laugh. She must have known by now. He basically told her everything in the living room. Confessed his feelings for her. Admitting without words.

“Oh baby… You’re still so innocent.” Her back hit the wall of his living room, her breath hitching in her throat. He came impossibly closer, caging her up against the wall. “Come on now… We tried this the easy way. Give into me.”

His hand tangled in her hair before he buried his nose in it, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. With a hand tightly fisting her hair, the other found its way under her shirt. She let out a sob as she felt the cup give into Bucky’s pull, the soft flesh of her breast spilling out of the cup.

“Bucky please…” She tried to reason, trying to turn away from his grasp. She felt his hand leave her hair to hold her throat as the hand under her shirt it made its way down her torso, popping the button of her pants.

She froze as his fingers slid into her panties, her eyes widening in surprise. It surprised her that the hold on her neck had the effect on her it did – it scared her as well.

“What are you- no!” she cried out as she felt one of his fingers burying itself into her entrance. Another digit joined the first shortly after, making her gasp. Bucky had her trapped, and he enjoyed it. His hand left her throat and found her cheek, stroking a fallen tear away lovingly while he pushed his fingers deeper into her, his thumb grazing her clit roughly.

“I’ll make you feel good. I promise, baby.” His fingers picked up the pace as she felt a coil tighten in her stomach. She tried to fight the pleasure that was forced upon her, the tears falling from her eyes freely by now. She felt the coil snap, and with a cry she came around Bucky’s fingers reluctantly. Her cunt clenching around his fingers felt like heaven, and at that moment, he was sure this was what heaven felt like.

“Such a good girl. You like that, huh baby?” His breath fanned over her face, the air coming off as cold on her drying cheeks. She shook her head with a sob, sucking in a breath through her nose, even though she desperately wanted to agree.

She felt Bucky retract his fingers from her panties, bringing them to his lips before sucking them into his mouth. Watching his fingers covered in her slick disappearing between his lips made her heart hammer impossibly harder in her chest.

“So goddamn sweet. Like honey, darling. You’re just hiding this sweet pussy, huh?” His filthy words take her aback, and her mouth falls open in shock. She doesn’t know what to say. Baffled, she barely feels when he lifts her by the thighs, carrying her into his bedroom, where he throws her on the bed. As her back collides with his soft covers, she’s finally pulled out of the trance.

“Bucky…” her voice is quivering as his hands tug her pants down her legs, goosebumps rising as she feels his stubble against her thighs, her calves, her feet. His lips trace their way up the inside of her legs, her eyes widening again as she realizes what he’s doing now.

“Bucky, please, don’t!” she whimpers, but to no avail. Bucky buries his nose into her mound, inhaling her scent, just as the words leave her mouth. She whimpers when she realized it feels good, even though it shouldn’t.

“Such a lovely girl… Such a lovely pussy…” His words unsettle her, making her stomach twist. She tries to push at his head with her hands, whining as she feels his teeth nip at her clit. He can feel her panicking underneath him, and it makes him smile.

She feels the fabric tighten against her skin before she hears it tear, and shortly after his mouth latches onto her clit. She silently sobs out, arms and legs thrashing about. His hands push up her legs, at the same time collecting her hands in his, tightening his hold on her. She feels the ability to move becoming harder, and she sobs again out as his tongue flicks her clit harshly.

“Stay still, darling… Or this will get worse.” Her eyes widen as she takes in his words. Worse? What could be worse than this? She was unable to kick him, unable to slap him. She was unable to push him away, unable to stop him from invading her body.

In her haze, she barely registers her climax building before it hits her, making her cry out as ecstasy takes over her body. The muscles in her legs tighten around him, her whole body shaking from the earth-shattering orgasm unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Her mind is in a haze so deep, she could barely tell right from wrong anymore.

Having Bucky in between her legs felt so right, like the two of them fit together as puzzle pieces. At the same time, she knew it was wrong – so wrong. She felt herself thrash around from her oversensitivity; her mind completely detached from her body. Her gaze fell to where Bucky was placed between her legs, and she let out a moan at how sinful he appeared, his pupils blown wide, and a wide grin plastered on his face.

She shivered at the feral look in his eyes as he peppered kisses up her stomach, pushing up her shirt and pulling down her bra, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. She let out a wanton moan, for a short moment forgetting the situation. His lip around her perked nipples is making her pussy gush with want. She watches as he pulls his shirt over his head, baring his muscular torso to her prying eyes.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby.” He breathes out against her skin, goosebumps rising on her skin where his breath had hit. “You’re not gonna want any other man than me when I’m done with you.” She feels his hands working in between her legs, her senses kicking in when she realizes his hands are working on unbuttoning his pants.

Tears start streaming down her face again, her head thrashing around, whimpers leaving her mouth as fear takes over her body for real. Her hands come to rest against his shoulders, trying to push him away. “Bucky, please…” she whimpers, trying to restrain him from taking her most sacred possession from her, but to no avail.

With one swift thrust he pushes inside of her. She shuts her eyes tightly, the pain unimaginable. There’s a soaring pain in between her legs, with Bucky’s cock stretching her ever so painfully. She realizes he’s stopped moving, letting her body adjust to him as her walls pulsed around his throbbing member. Whimpers are leaving her mouth, short puffs of breaths landing against the skin of his pectoral muscle.

Bucky smirks triumphantly down at her. Knowing he had been her first stirred something inside him. A sob escaped her as she started to cry audibly, his hands sliding down her sides to grasp her hips in his hands. He locks her legs around his waist, driving himself deeper into her, his thrusts hard and pace increasing. He watches her face through half-lidded eyes, soft groans falling from his lips.

Her walls were milking him, her body begging for him to come. He buries his face into the crook of her shoulder as his thrusts picks up the pace further, uncontrollable and with no rhythm at all. He’s thrusting into her most sensitive spot, earning a few moans from her lips before she’s coming undone around him, her body trembling as her walls convulsed around Bucky’s cock, tears streaming down her cheeks. She feels Bucky burying himself deeply inside her before he’s coming right after her with a load groan.

His hair is tickling her nose – she can smell his scent – pine, fresh air, Bucky. It suddenly felt alright. A sense of calm washes over her, the sense of familiarity making her relax slightly. As she feels him shift on top of her, her mind goes back into freeze mode, her eyes widening as he lifts his torso off hers. The two of them were still connected.

Bucky found her scent intoxicating, and he knew she weren’t done yet. He wasn’t done yet. Her expression turned into fear, unlike anything Bucky had seen before. “Baby, don’t look at me like that…” His voice was sulky, as if he didn’t deserve to attend to her fear.

“We’re nowhere near done yet.”

Fear surged through her body as the words fell from his lips. She didn’t want this. Not again. She wanted to cry and scream for him to stop. She had spilled so many tears already, and her screaming had left her throat dry and hoarse.

“Please Bucky…” Her body was tired, and she was emotionally drained. He shifted on top of her, his hands grasping her ankles and flipping her over before lifting her hips, bringing her to her hands and knees. He got on his knees behind her, just as she pushed her face into the bedsheets, letting out a sob as his hands brushed their way up the skin of her back.

“God you’re so delicate. Like a petal of the most exquisite rose.” She felt his breath on her butt cheeks. She let out a sob, realizing how close he actually was to her most private area. She felt his teeth bite into her left cheek and heard him let out a hum of appreciation.

“So good for me, huh baby?” The sob she let out just seconds before had escalated into full on crying – only lacking tears since she was so tired. She’s begging him to let her go, to stop for now, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. She felt his hands grab at her waist roughly, positioning himself and plunging back inside of her used cunt.

It didn’t even sound like she was screaming. Maybe all it was, was a weak screech and she quickly gave up, letting him have his way with her overly sensitive body. She was still wet – her come and his mixing together inside of her. Bucky used it as makeshift lube, sliding into her easily. Her hands turned into fists as she realized his hold on her hips would make it impossible for her to wiggle away from him.

A soft yelp left her lips as the newfound position made his thrusts seem impossibly deeper. She could hear Bucky hum behind her, compliment her as he took her, letting her know how pleased he was to finally have her. She tried to cancel out the sound of their bodies meeting – wet and slick sounds of his cock plunging its way deeply inside of her, and she gasped as she felt him get rougher again.

He slammed into her, groaning for her to follow him, to come with him, making her cry out. Bucky hit her cervix repeatedly, painfully, again and again until she came a fourth time, her body pulling and clenching around him, begging him to let go, and he came yet again with a loud groan.

He stroked her back lovingly as he almost collapsed against her back, her legs quivering underneath the weight of their bodies. It took Bucky a while to remove himself from her, but when he did, he didn’t hesitate to clean her up thoroughly, making sure she was perfect for him.

“Come on darling, roll over for me.” Bucky commanded, and she simply let out a deep breath and moaned. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t have the strength and the will anymore. All she wanted to do was to hide away from the world. From Bucky.

“Roll over for me.” He said again, this time punctuating all four words, rolling his eyes as she let out a whine in protest. He ended up grabbing her waist and turning her over himself, laying her down before laying down himself and pulling her into his arms.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” his hands slid down the curve of her waist, fingers drawing imaginary circles on her hipbone. She let out a huff before hiding her face in his neck, feeling her eyes wet with tears yet again. They slid down her cheek and landed in the crevice of his collarbone, pooling among droplets of sweat from their sex.

“You did so good, darling. I’m so proud of you.” A wracked sob left her at his words. She felt him bury his nose into her hair, his lips peppering kisses onto her scalp as he softly shushed her, his arms gently rocking her as he let her cry.

“It’s all gonna be okay darling, I’ll take care of you.” With that, she fell into a dreamless slumber.

Saturday, 9:21am

Bucky watched her as the soft morning sun peeked through his curtains, which wasn’t drawn the whole way. Her eyelashes laid softly against her rosy cheeks; her eyelids still puffy from the crying she did last night. His eyes studied her face calmly before traveling down her naked, uncovered body, his head propped up on his arm, his temple laying against his fist.

His eyes fell on her breasts, admiring her perked nipples and the small stretchmarks pointing to the rosy bud. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, his fingers reaching out to graze the soft skin under her breast. His hand made its way down the curve of her waist, pushing down the covers laying against her skin.

As her navel was revealed, Bucky felt his cock twitch. Images from last night of her body underneath him filled his mind, how good she felt around his cock, how deliciously sinful her moans had filled his ears, how fucking good her slick tasted on his tongue… He was definitely in deep.

How she managed to calm herself down after more than two hours of crying and sobbing through what he had forced upon her, to now look more peaceful and beautiful as ever blew his mind. Her eyelids fluttered before she shifted slightly, her hand coming up to rub at her eyes.

He didn’t fight the want to stroke at her hair, so that’s what he did. He lifted his hand and pushed a strand behind her ear, his thumb stroking her cheekbone afterwards. To Bucky’s surprise she leaned into his touch, a small smile tugging at her lips.

It dawned on him that she, at this moment, wasn’t awake enough to remember what had transpired last night. She stretched her arms in front of her, hands landing against Bucky’s shoulder and pectoral muscles, and her eyes fluttered open quickly as she withdrew her hands hurriedly.

“Bucky?” her voice quivered before her bottom lip started wobbling – her face twisting with realization. Her eyes widened at her undressed state, not fully covered by the covers, and she yanked the fabric up to cover her breasts while sitting up slightly.

“Morning beautiful.” He watched as her muscles tensed before she relaxed slightly. Her lips move on their own accord as she whispers out a morning. “How are you feeling?” His hand came out to grasp hers, and she lets him take it.

“A little bit sore…” his thumb grazes over the back of her hand and she watches it as it slides over the skin, tracing the path of the veins trailing underneath the flesh. “I uh…” She bites her lip as she twists her hand in his, grasping his hands in hers.

“Mhm, what is it darling? Don’t go being all shy on me now” He watched her hand in his, feeling his heart jump slightly, feeling some sort of domestication by looking at her. The words that left her mouth shortly after took him by surprise.

“Can I see it?” she sucked her lip back between her teeth before she let out a giggle. “Your cock?”

Bucky’s mouth fell open at her choice of words before he let the covers slide down his body slowly, revealing his semi-hard cock to her. The sight of it made her inhale sharply, taking in the size of it. She realized she had barely seen it the previous day in the bathroom, since it looked even bigger now. Was that really inside of her last night? Bucky felt a smile tug on his lips as he watched her face, contorted in admiration.

“You can touch it… Come on, I’ll show you how.” He watches as she bites her lip, before the hand that was holding hers tugged her hand down to his cock. She shifts closer to him as her fingers graze over the length of his cock, before gripping the base softly, nimble fingers wrapping around his girth.

His cock is heavy and warm in her hand, pulsing beneath her fingers. It somehow makes her mouth water, and she feels a sudden urge to do more than just jerk Bucky off. She doesn’t give into the temptation though, deciding that this should be enough for now. She hears Bucky suck in a breath as he watches her.

“Just like that, move your hand up and down slowly, maybe tighten your grip a little bit… when you get to the head…” She did as he told her, watching as her fingers pulls the foreskin down, before coming back up to the head of his cock. Her head whips around as she hears a groan leave his lips.

His eyes were hooded, watching her movements, eyes scanning over her body, before coming up to her face. “God you’re beautiful…” She tightened her hand further, quickening her movements. She looked into his eyes and held his gaze as she pumped his cock. There was something in his eyes – she couldn’t quite place what she saw. She watched as his brows furrowed, his eyes fluttering closed, his breath coming out heavier and another groan spilling from his lips.

She twisted her head just as she felt his cock tense in her hand, watching the way white ropes of cum landing against the skin of his stomach, some pooling into his bellybutton, along with another strangled groan falling from his lips. Her lips tugged into a smile, his hand coming up to grasp the back of her neck, pulling her into a deep, heavy kiss.

She felt the same feeling as she did just under a day earlier, when he had kissed her in the living room. Sparks flying, undeniably. As her lips parted from his, he smiled. His eyes scanned over her reddened cheeks before trailing over her lips, pulling back from her to give her space.

“What would you like for breakfast, baby?” The words were softly spoken, and she smiled as he sat up slightly, awaiting your answer. She shrugged her shoulders lightly, not really sure if she was in the mood to eat something. Her stomach was still a bit uneasy from the events of yesterday, but she managed to get out the word smoothie, along with her best doe-eyes.

After Bucky rolled out of bed and left his bedroom to clean himself up and make her breakfast, she let out a celebratory sigh and fell back against one of his pillows. She hoped that her efforts in seeming interested in his actions would help, so he wouldn’t force her into things she didn’t want.

She leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed the discarded shirt, pulling it over her head. She quietly padded over to her bag, pulling the whole bag into her arms and walking to the bathroom, before locking herself in. She stepped into the shower stall, turning the water on and twisting the handle, feeling the water getting warmer and warmer, up until the point where it was scalding her skin.

She whimpered before fully submerging herself underneath the searing water, scrubbing the insides of her thighs violently until she felt the skin grow sore and sensitive. She sobbed out as her fingers came into contact with her sensitive folds, washing away the remains of what Bucky had done to her the night before.

Just as she thought of him, she felt her heart drop in her chest when she heard a knock on the bathroom door. She hadn’t even heard him approaching, and now he was just outside the door. She silently begged that he wouldn’t speak or ask her for anything, but it seemed like luck wasn’t on her side today either.

“Baby, breakfast’s ready.” She felt the goosebumps of disgust run down her back, even though the water was still burning her skin. Just the sound of his voice made her uncomfortable, made her guts turn uncomfortably in her stomach, which made her regret once again ever coming here with him in the first place.

“Baby?” He knocked again, making her heart clench in her chest before she answered him quietly that she was almost done, before she turned off the water, rubbing her body roughly with one of the towels laid out in one of the cabinets.

“Just a second.” She took a look in the mirror and gasped as she noticed the bruises littering her neck, arms, stomach, thighs. She had no idea how she was going to hide them from her parents. She scrambled through her bag, pulling out as many covering pieces of clothing she could possibly muster before covering up her body.

Saturday, 10:08am

When she entered the kitchen, the delicious smell of pancakes filled her nostrils and she sighed in content. She took in the table – Bucky had placed all of her favorite fruits in separate bowls and made her a smoothie. The pancakes were even chocolate chip. She felt both agitated and sure of herself, until the second she sat down.

“So, I was really your first, huh?” Was the first question that left Bucky, a smirk plastered on his face. She felt the redness fill her cheeks before she nodded, not really wanting to engage in a conversation with him. She grabbed a handful of blueberries, stuffing them into her mouth and chewing on the sweet fruits.

“You know… The way your body reacted to how I fucked you… How you moaned… Cried out my name… How your tight pussy strangled my cock…” Bucky smirked as he grabbed his cup of coffee, bringing it to his lips before blowing on the surface, gently. “Could get used to that.”

She felt her heart pick up its pace in her chest, hammering against her ribcage as she sat stiff with her hands in her lap, too embarrassed to look at him. She fought her embarrassment though and looked up to where he was sitting through her lashes – he was exploring his molars with his tongue with his eyebrow cocked, watching her. Smug son of a bitch.

“You shouldn’t be so nervous, darling. Dig in! I made everything you asked for while you were hiding in my bathroom. You could at least appreciate the effort.”

Her eyes shot down, not wanting to meet his. The tone in his voice made her shiver. She reluctantly reached out and grabbed the smoothie off the table, bringing the straw to her lips before sucking the sweet fluid into her mouth. The taste of strawberry and blackberry lingered on her tastebuds, along with a tangy flavor she had trouble placing. She looked up at Bucky again.

“Bucky… I think I would like to go home today.” She shivered as she thought about what happened last night. What could happen again. She feared it would. She took another sip of the smoothie followed by another, and placed it on the table, truly hoping Bucky would give in and let her go.

She was wrong.

His smile was wide as he watched her drink more than half of the smoothie, just waiting for the triazolam to take its toll on her nervous system. He knew the pills for his incurable insomnia would come in handy someday, and he mentally high fived himself as he noticed her getting groggier.

“This should solve your sleeping problem, Mr. Barnes. I wouldn’t normally advise for this, but if you’re in need of a faster effect, crush them into some water and ingest it shortly before going to bed.”

And that was exactly what Bucky had done when making her smoothie. The remains of the white powder in the porcelain mortar resting in the sink was the only evidence of his scheme at this point. He had everything planned – down to the last detail. Everything he had to do by the time she would wake up from her pill-induced sleep.

“You know, darling, there’s so much I want to show you. To teach you.” Bucky slowly got out of his chair, picking a few fruits from the bowls, before chucking them into his mouth. “That’s why I need you to stay here, with me. Until we die.”

“Bucky, I… what’s happening?” she looked up at him with fearful eyes, her sight blurring Bucky into a blob of dark and fair tones before returning back to being clear as day. “I’m scared. Please.”

“You’re gonna sleep for a little bit,” he crouched down beside her chair and her eyes widened as her brain caught up with what her ears were hearing. “But I’ll make sure to take good care of you while you’re sleeping, I promise.” She felt his hand wipe a stray piece of hair from her face, pushing it behind her ear before he placed a kiss on her cheek.

Everything went black before her eyes, and her head landed heavily in Bucky’s hands. He watched as her eyes rolled around in her head, unable to focus on anything before finally falling closed, a sigh escaping her lips.

Bucky lifted her out of the chair gently, admiring her soft features before walking her to his bedroom. Her soft breathing was warm against his neck as he held her in his arms, one of the only things letting her know she was still sentient. He laid her on the bed carefully before beginning to rid her of all the clothes she had hidden herself in.

“Oh, you silly girl… Trying to hide from me. Trying to get me to let you go…” he carefully tugged down her jeans, throwing them on the floor. He lifted her leg off the bed, placing a kiss on top of her foot. His eyes follow the length of her legs, all the way up her body. Her beautiful body. “I’ll never let you go. You’re mine now.”

Saturday, ?

She let out a small groan before turning on to her back – or so she thought. Her eyes flew open before she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes – or tried to. She groggily looked up at her hand and let out a gasp when she found it fixated to the bedpost. She whipped her head around and found the other fastened likewise, letting out a tiny whimper.

She clenched her fists, giving the restraints another tug but to no avail. She lifted her head slightly, looking around, and let out another whimper when she noticed she was in Bucky’s bedroom yet again. She shivered when she heard his voice, coming from behind her.

“So, you’re finally awake. Took you long enough, darling.” she gasped when she felt his fingers slide through her folds and into her wet cunt. It felt different than the last time he did it, though. Like something was in the way. It felt good, though.

“You know, it’s actually quite impressive how the human body reacts to arousing touch. I’ve been toying with your clit for more than an hour, drawing a few orgasms from you and you’re still just as responsive… So, I wanted to try something new.”

She gasped when she felt his fingers swirl themselves inside her and then against the back of her tight cunt. Her eyes widened as her mind suddenly cleared itself enough for her to feel the expansion of her tight ring of muscle. She struggled to move her legs, giving up when she realized they were tied to the foot of the bed, spread wide.

“For someone who was a virgin in both holes just yesterday, I have to say I’m impressed. It’s like your pussy was made for my cock… I can’t wait to fuck this tight ass of yours… To see if it’s just as good as your cunt.”

Her eyes widened as she felt his hand leave the warmth of her pussy, swirling around the gem of the butt plug seated snugly within her tight rim. She gasped loudly when she felt Bucky slowly retracting the plug, not letting the widest part pass the rim before pushing the plug back in. She let out a wanton moan as it fell back into place.

“I’m gonna fuck your pussy while this plug is filling you up, and then I’m gonna fuck your tight ass…” She heard Bucky slide down the mattress before his lips found her soaking cunt, emitting a loud moan from her. Her mind was still hazy from her slumber, she struggled with finding the words for a few moments. “Yeah, you like that?”

“Bucky…” she whimpered weakly as a surge of pleasure shot through her veins. “Please don’t, Buck…” She had trouble focusing on anything, she wasn’t sure where Bucky’s lips lingered anymore. She registered the rip of a foil packet, and just after, she felt the thickness of Bucky’s cock filling her slick pussy to the limit.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl…” Bucky moans loudly as he bottoms out, the pressure from the plug in her ass straining against his cock. He leans down and peppers a string of kisses on her cheek, admiring her as her mouth hung open, short puffs of breaths pushing their way past her plump lips.

Her eyes are shut tightly, her eyebrows drawing a thin line between pleasure and pain. As of that moment, he can’t tell which is which. Tears are slowly framing her eyes, though still not giving the emotion away.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, and Bucky bites his lips to restrain himself, but the intoxicating way her pussy grasps his cock tightly, the sweet pink gem resting just above his cock has his mind spiraling into pleasure. He grabs her hips and thrusts into her harshly, pushing the tears out of her eyes and the cries out of her mouth with every thrust.

His hips slam against hers within a few thrusts, and it’s making her see stars. His cock is grazing her most sensitive places with every thrust, and everything seems to blacken before her eyes as hot floods shoot through her veins, her orgasm so intense her whole body is shaking.

She herself doesn’t know whether it was in pleasure or in pain either, but it was definitely something in between. She had never felt a feeling so indescribably enormous; she had never felt so full. She whimpered when Bucky pulled himself out of her, eyes widening as she came back to herself, feeling the plug being retracted slowly.

“I can’t hold back darling, fuck you make it so hard…” she gasped when the plug slid out easily, whimpering as she felt liquid smear against her fluttering, sensitive ring of muscle, the coolness slithering down between her sensitive lips, staining the mattress below her.

She bites her lip harshly as she feels the tip of Bucky’s cock prod against her tightening rim. It was a whole other feeling than the plug. Where the plug was cold and somewhat hard, Bucky’s cock was warm, wide and rigid. She clenches her jaw as his cock breaches her, the sting unlike anything she had ever felt before.

“Come on baby, let me hear you…” Bucky gritted through his teeth, just beside her ear. She clenches her jaw even tighter, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of letting him hear the effect he had on her. The breaths she sucked in through her nose were uneven and ragged, the pain caused by his cock almost unbearable.

“Fucking relax, baby… You’re just making it harder for yourself…” She didn’t know how deep he was inside of her and she didn’t wanna know either. She had never felt dirtier than she did in this exact moment, and she shut her eyes tightly, wishing herself invisible. She felt his hands grasp a butt cheek each, before spreading them apart, thrusting his hips, slowly entering her deeper.

“That’s it baby…” she whined as she felt his hips still against hers, his pelvis resting snugly between her spread cheeks. His mouth found her ear and she whimpered as the next words that left his lips sunk in. “Such a good slut for me, taking all of my cock in her tight ass…”

His hand moved around her hip, squeezing itself between her body and the mattress, sliding down in between her legs where her soaking pussy had been abandoned. His fingers swirled around the bundle of nerves, the small jolts of his thrusts mixing with the pleasure from his fingers pushing her over the edge.

She let out a scream as she came around his cock, her ass gripping him tighter than he had ever felt before in his life. Out of all the women he had ever fucked, she was by far the tightest he had ever experienced. Her whole body shook beneath him, hands tightly fisting the bedsheets as her ass strangled his cock, begging for him to release his seed within.

Bucky’s cock felt so massive as she tried to come down from her startling high, the jolts of her body seemingly calming down slightly. “Bucky please… You’re too big, I can’t…” she cried out as her oversensitivity took over, trying to push the foreign intrusion out. His movements stung against her sore ring of muscle, making her wail further.

Bucky ignored her pleas and pushed his hips tighter against hers before retracting himself halfway, pushing in again. He groaned into her ear as he fucked her ass, showing her no mercy as he searched for his own release. He cursed out as he found the angle unable to grant him what he so desperately longed for.

He untied her right leg first, followed by the left before bringing her knees under her body, to fuck her in his favorite position. She whined as he pulled out of her ass completely, before leaning down to lick a firm stripe through her folds. She didn’t know how he managed to make her feel as dirty as he did, but it was amplified even further when he spat at her ass.

He cursed behind her at the sight of her, and shortly after she felt another wet dollop of lube slither between her cheeks. He easily slid his cock back into her ass, sighing out as her warmth once again engulfed his cock completely. He was never, ever going to let her go. Not when she could make him feel like this by just fucking her.

His release came just as quickly as she had hoped. Within three more strokes, he buried himself to the hilt, bit her earlobe harshly and spilled himself into the condom. She felt the pulsing of the convulsions in his cock more prominently in her ass, and she distracted herself from the pain by counting every spurt of his cum that landed within the latex with every jerk of his cock.

“Good girl.” He whispered as he gripped around his cock, securing the condom before pulling out of her, slowly. She whimpered as he left her body, and he groaned at the sight of her ring of muscle fluttering and contracting around nothing.

Bucky slid off the bed after pulling the condom off, tying the end and left for the bathroom. She felt a tear escape her eye as she pushed her legs back to lie flat before lifting her head, turning it to look in the direction of the bathroom. Bucky emerged with a damp towel, in all his naked glory, walking over to her with a victorious smirk.

“You did so good my darling… Such a good obedient girl for her daddy.” He talked sweet nonsense as he cleaned between her legs. She hissed as the damp cloth came in contact with her swollen ass, and again when he swiped it between her folds, gathering her slick. “Have you changed your mind yet, darling? Or do I need to teach you another lesson?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes, sucking her lip in between her teeth. “Changed my mind about what?”

She felt a hard slap on her butt. “Don’t play dumb, baby. It’s not a good look on you. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She whimpers as his hand grazes along the angry, red protrusion of the skin where his hand had landed.

“Please, I want to go home Bucky.” She whimpered, closing her eyes as she felt the tears flow freely from her eyes. She felt another harsh slap against har already sensitive skin, then another.

“Wrong answer.”

“Bucky you can’t keep me locked up here forever!” She cried out, tugging on the restraints again, with what little power she had left after what he had just put her through, and the grogginess from the drugs, still in her system. Bucky leaned all the way into her ear, whispering out yet another sinister thing, that made her whole body crumble in fear.

“If that’s what it takes.”

He left her then, only pulling the sheet over her ass to cover her private parts. She didn’t know how long she spent in his bed, tied up like some animal. She could hear him somewhere in the house, humming along to some tune playing on the radio, which she couldn’t make out.

She was getting cold, falling asleep sporadically along with goosebumps rising on her skin as silent tears slid down her cheeks into the pillow. She felt exposed and used. Used by a man she trusted with her life. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She imagined that she could’ve been wrapped up in her comforter at home, watching some boring Netflix series instead of laying tied up here.

She felt scared. Even more scared than she’d felt just after Bucky had violated her for the first time. She’d never felt so helpless before, and it made her even more scared of what Bucky would do to her if he got the chance. It was getting dark out, and she knew that it would either improve or deteriorate her chances of escaping. She didn’t know where to escape to, though.

She knew she had to get out of his house as soon as possible. She knew she had to get in contact with her parents somehow, despite the fact that she didn’t want to anymore. She didn’t know where her phone had ended up in all of this mess, but she knew Bucky usually slept with his by the bed. Either she could wait for that opportunity, or she could try to escape.

She wiggled her toes slightly, trying to get some of the blood down there again. She twisted her knees slightly, trying to pull them up under her again. She thanked the heavens that she was flexible when she managed to pull her right knee up under her, followed by the other.

She slowly rose to her knees, sitting back on her ass. She looked towards the door, cracked open slightly. The faint smell of something cooking filled her nostrils and she heard her stomach rumbling. She had no recollection of when she last had something to eat.

It was this morning, that much she knew. But she didn’t know what time it was by now. How long she’d been out, how long he’d been in the bedroom with her, how long she’d been laying there alone.

She took in the expert knots that had her hands tied to the headboard, reminding her that her dad and Bucky had served in the military together, and that they both had some knowledge about rope and knots. They’d even taught her some, so she could easily make out which one he’d tied her up with.

The double constrictor knot tied twice on both her wrists made her eyes fill with tears yet again. There was no way she would be able to pull the knots open with her teeth. Yet she found herself trying. And… on top of that, she really needed to pee.

She examined the knot before slowly making out the placement of the ends and where they were cut off. She reached forward and trapped one loop in between her teeth, pulling slightly. She sighed happily when she felt it give in, and she pulled one end through easily. Way too easily.

She repeated the action one more time, pulling the end over and through on the other side, one knot coming completely undone. She nodded at herself when the first rope fell to the pillow under her, making everything seem a little bit easier.

Three more to go.

She prayed that Bucky didn’t make an appearance, otherwise she’d be fucked. She leaned forward and examined the next knot on the same wrist, leaning forward when she located the end of it.

She winced when the ropes on the wrist she wasn’t working on tugged the rash on her skin even deeper. She needed to get out of there, and she needed to get out of there now. Panic settled in her stomach when she heard footsteps from somewhere in the house, tears spilling out of her eyes yet again.

“Come on, come on…” the knot finally gave in and she breathed out in relief, grinning slightly when her fingers started loosening the knots on her other wrist. She was so close to freeing her wrist, so close to relief from emptying her bladder… So close to escaping from Bucky.

“Baby…” She instantly freezes when she hears his voice from the door. “What are you doing?” She lets out a breath, feeling the tears re-wetting the paths on her cheeks that had dried earlier. Her cheeks redden, embarrassed that he’s caught her.

“Bucky, I…” she starts, turning her head slowly to look at him. He’s standing in the doorway with a tray of food for her, for them. How had she not noticed the amazing smell filling the room much earlier? How long had he even been standing there? She was so caught up in escaping she hadn’t even heard him.

She’s not sure whether the words that leave her mouth are just plain stupid or smart. Either way, his eyes soften just a bit when she speaks. “I just really have to pee.” She watches as he puts down the tray on his bedside table before he leans forward, loosening the remaining knots.

“Why didn’t you just call for me, baby? I would’ve come and helped you so you wouldn’t tear your lips like that.” His thumb grazes her lip, making her wince slightly. She hadn’t noticed the skin being mangled from the roughness of the rope. “Jesus baby, you look awful.”

She winces again when his fingers glide over her cheekbone, before they help her loosen the last knots around her wrists. She slides off the bed with a whimpering thank you, her legs slightly unstable as she staggers her way to the bathroom. She shuts the door softly before finally getting the relief she’s been craving.

Once finished, she tries for the small window in the bathroom. She knows she isn’t going to fit through, but she’s trying anyway. The window doesn’t budge, even when all laches are off and clattering against the glass. She knows Bucky can hear her from the bedroom, but at this point she doesn’t care.

“Come on. Dinner is ready.” His voice is just on the other side of the door, letting her know just how close he was. By the looks of it, there was no way she was ever going to be left alone again. Her foot slipped from her getting dizzy when she stepped on the bathmat to wash her hands, causing her to let out a yelp.

The door was yanked open just as she steadied herself against the marble countertop, catching Bucky’s eyes in the mirror when she looked up. Traces of nervousness swirled in his eyes, and she wondered why. “Jesus, I thought you hurt yourself, baby.”

He watched her every move as she washed her hands, dried them off before throwing them around her body, shielding her still naked body from him. He observed the way goosebumps littered her arms and legs, making his heart clench in his chest. He swiftly manhandled her into a t-shirt, before handing her a pair of panties.

He watched as she slid them on weakly, before grabbing her hand and leading her back to the bed. “Come on,” he spoke softly, as he sat her down and placed the tray in front of her, urging her to eat by bringing a forkful of food to her lips. “You need your strength.” She squeezed her lips together, not fully trusting him with her food since the incident this morning.

“Don’t worry.” He grabbed her hand, his thumb sliding over the soft skin, “It’s just food this time. No drugs.” She looked up at him doe-eyed, desperately trying to just have him leave her. She purses her lips again. “I trust you, baby.”

“I’m not hungry.” She whispered out, pulling her hand from his gently before scooting back just a bit on the bed, to get further away from him. Her stomach grumbled in that moment, letting him know how much of a lie that was. She was starving.

He grabs her jaw, forcing her lips apart before shoving the food in between them. “You eat when I tell you to eat.” He’s somewhat grumpy, it’s easy to see. There’s a glint remorse in his eyes, but she doesn’t believe that he regrets anything he’s put her through. She chews languidly, all while her eyes are trained on her hands in her lap.

“Am I going to have to force feed you, or will you eat on your own accord? Because I don’t care what you choose.” She looks up at him and watches as he scoops another dollop of food onto the fork, bringing it to her lips. She carefully swallows the food already in her mouth before opening up for him to feed her. “Good girl.”

It continues like that, with Bucky taking a few bites in between feeding her. It makes her calm to see him eat from the same portion of food as her, letting her know that he was telling the truth when he made her eat the first bite. No drugs.

He brings the straw resting in a glass of water to her lips after setting the plate back on the tray. She eyes his hands, inspecting the glass intensely. He sighs and rolls his eyes yet understanding her actions. He knows she’s afraid of him, he knows she doesn’t trust her right now.

He brings the straw to his own lips and sucks the cold fluid into his mouth before swallowing, letting her know that the water was safe to ingest as well. She exhales slowly before taking the glass from him, emptying it in one go. She was truly thirsty.

“What time is it?” she tries softly, afraid that Bucky thought she didn’t need to know, since he had no plans of ever letting her go. She’s looking for any sign indicating that he’s carrying his phone. He eyes her for a while, his eyes squinting for just a moment. She looked breathtaking as she sat there, fiddling her fingers.

“Why do you want to know?” She knew it. He’s still watching her, trying to look through her, into her head to figure out what she’s thinking. She tries her best to appear unfazed, just wanting him to tell her the goddamn time.

She feels lost in a whole new way, with the conception of time stripped from her as well. It makes her uneasy on a whole other level. “I just… Wanna know if it’s time for dessert.” She whispers, still afraid to say much. She waits for his reaction anxiously, another wave of uneasiness overcoming her.

Bucky laughs. He actually laughs at her. She furrows her brows as she watches his shoulders shake with every puff of laughter. “You don’t need to know the time…” he has a hard time getting the words out through his laughter, yet he speaks again shortly after. “Desserts,” he smiles as he turns his head toward her, eyes taking in her serious expression. He smiles warmly at her. “What do you want for dessert?”

“You tell me the time; I tell you what I want for dessert.” He raises his eyebrow at her demand, not really expecting it. She doesn’t know where the surge of confidence came from. She just wanted to know the damn time. Somewhere deep within her, she’s still wondering if he is going to let her go the following day.

“Feisty now, aren’t you?” He jokingly says, well knowing she was, still is, afraid of him. He bites the inside of his cheek, contemplating her offer before he slowly draws out his phone before showing her the time. 9:21pm. So, she had been tied up in his bedroom the whole day. She watched as he pushed it back into his pocket, away from her prying eyes.

“So, darling… You wanted dessert?” he turns back to her and she has shuffled closer to him in the midst of his lack of attention. Her hand reaches out to caress his cheek, startling him. She smiles softly, she doesn’t even know why.

In one way, she wanted to get out of his house as soon as humanly possible but… She found herself not wanting to. Her thoughts were conflicting within her head, confusing her even more than previously. Maybe she just had to play pretend for now, and he would let her go tomorrow?

She found herself slowly losing herself within her thoughts. She had so many conflicting ones, her mind in a flurry about which ones to focus on. Everything came to her while admiring him through her lashes. Every emotion she’s ever felt for him, every memory she had with him. “Yeah. I want you.”

Without words she rises, initiating the contact between them herself. She didn’t know how or why, but she found herself reaching out for his hand. It felt a little alien, but good, nonetheless. It was clear to her that he was taken aback by her actions. She silently straddles his thighs, her ass resting on his knees as she pushes him back to lay against the bed. “I want to do this on my own.” she starts while pulling the shirt over her head.

“You took the choice from me yesterday, and I don’t think that’s fair. Do you?” the sudden surge of confidence in her takes him aback, and he’s laying motionlessly against the mattress, just watching her undress herself on top of him.

He watches as her hands slide over her breasts and down her stomach, teasing him slightly as she snaps the elastic band of her panties against the skin on her hip. She feels him harden underneath her within second of the fabric leaving her torso, and she revels in it.

She was deeply in love with Bucky Barnes. No matter how he wronged her, abused her, used her - she loves him. Maybe she was delusional but having him underneath her set her nerves on fire. She had finally gotten what she wanted.

There was nothing standing in the way of her and Bucky’s relationship anymore. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She was going to give into him, and she was going to enjoy it.

All it had taken, was one small flaw in Bucky’s plan. He’d let it slip, and he wasn’t even aware of it.

Saturday, 03:22am

Opening the messages app on his phone, she quickly searches through the different messages before opening the one with her dad. She knew exactly who she had to call for help. Yet she found something that made her blood turn to ice in her veins. Or, it felt like that, at least.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Slowly, the tears started burning in her eyes, making her vision blurry. The light from his phone blinded her slightly, and she found herself wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, a sob getting stuck in her throat. She just couldn’t believe it.

Right there, on his phone, was a conversation between him and her dad. Her own dad. Her stomach turned as she read through the messages, chest heaving as she tried to calm her erratic breaths.

Steve: You got her calmed yet?

Bucky: No, still squirming and crying. Hoping that she’ll calm down soon.

Bucky: Jesus, she got some lungs on her. I can’t wait to do everything I’ve planned to do to her tomorrow.

Steve: Good. Ruin her. Make sure she doesn’t get away. We need that money.

Bucky: If not, I’ll do what’s necessary. Even though I really don’t want to. You know how I feel about her.

Steve: I couldn’t care less. She isn’t mine anyways.

Her brows furrowed as she read one of the last messages over and over again. What the hell did he mean that I wasn’t his? She felt a strong hand clasp around the wrist of her hand that held the phone in it, forcing a small scream past her lips. She hadn’t even heard Bucky wake up.

“What are you doing?” His eyes were dark and hooded. They were also full of sleep, and she knew he was happy she was still in bed next to him, else she would’ve fallen off the bed. She looked at him through the blue light of the phone, trying to come up with a quick lie to throw him off in his sleepy haze.

“I was just looking at the time.” she tried carefully, the flow of tears drying out slowly. She was shocked, to say the least, but she wouldn’t let him know that she knew... “I usually wake up at night and I always try to track my sleeping pattern…” she had no idea what to say.

She couldn’t believe what she had just read. What did her dad mean? She isn’t mine anyways… The message kept resonating in her head. He huffed and grabbed the phone, turning away from her and resuming his slumber.

Saturday, 9:23pm

She crawled off his lap, standing over him as she undid his pants with quick movements. He lifted his hips to aid her in taking them off, his mind still trying to catch up to what was happening. His boxers followed soon after, his naked glory exposed to her yet again, only this time it was different.

Her hand grasps his cock, giving it a few tugs before she’s closing her lips around the head. He stutters out a moan intertwined with her name, his hands flying into her hair to ground himself. Where the sudden urge to have her lips around his cock was fulfilled, he still didn’t know what she was doing.

All he knew was that it felt heavenly. Her mouth was warm and inviting, her cheeks feeling warm and velvety as she hollowed them against his length. She sucked more than half of his cock into her mouth, causing a deep groan to spill from his lips.

Her hand wrapped around what she couldn’t fit in her mouth, and she slowly stroked his shaft while swirling her tongue around the enlarged head of his cock. She felt his hand tighten in her hair, a string of groans falling from his lips.

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around him pushed the panties off her hips languidly and she slowly rose to her feet, still bent over with her lips around his cock. She releases him with a pop, fluttering kisses along his toned abdomen and up his chest before she straddles his hips, gliding the wetness between her legs over the length of him.

His hands find her hips, both his thumbs rubbing circles into her hips, his head thrown back in pleasure. This pleasure is so different than it’s been previously, it’s so full of emotion for him and possibly also from her. It feels tremendously different from all the other times. His head shifts forward and admires her with hooded eyes before they flutter closed.

When she finally sinks down onto his cock with a strained expression, he feels everything shift within him. It’s like the whole orbit of the world changes. She’s struggling with his size, whimpering as she slowly sinks further down onto him. She falls forward, her hands landing just beside his face and he groans out, his eyes slowly reopening to look at her on top of him.

Her cheeks are flushed pink, her eyes prickling with tears and her bottom lip tugged in between her teeth, desperately trying to accommodate to his size. She’s shifting just a little bit, trying to ease the pain between her hips.

Her hand slid under his neck and grasped the short hairs there, closely followed by her lips meeting his. Her hips grinds over his, their lips gliding over each other’s messily, their tongues dancing together. Her soft pants mixed with his, his hands sliding up to rest on her lower back, guiding her gently.

“Oh, Bucky…” she whispers, and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s dreaming. It feels surreal that she’s moaning his name,it makes him twitch inside of her to finally hear his name spill from her lips that way. Hearing her moan his name combined with the tightness of her heat pushes him further and further towards his impending orgasm.

Her walls clench around him and she whimpers ever so sweetly. He knows she’s close. She just needs the final push. She’s still grinding her hips against his, so he angles them slightly for her clit to rub over his pelvic bone.

It doesn’t take more than a few strokes for her orgasm to overtake her, blinding her vision with black spots and making every hair on her body rise. It feels amazing this time around - with herself being in charge of her pleasure.

He’s close - so close - but if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to do right now, it’s to do something she doesn’t want to, however ambivalent that sounds. He restrains himself or tries to. Her hips are still drawing circles over his, and it’s driving him crazy.

“Cum in me,” she whispers in her haze, and she feels his hands tighten on her hips, his pants filling her ears as he empties his load inside of her. She feels at it trickles down around his length still embedded in her heat as she collapses on top of him, laying her head on his chest.

She slowly comes down from euphoria, relaxing into his arms coming around her to rub over her back. Everything slowly comes back to her, settling within her body. The lovestruck haze she has been in for the past half hour, is slowly coming to an end.

She slowly removes herself from on top of him, his seed trailing down her legs as she makes her way to the bathroom to clean herself. He finds her under the shower, quietly entering the stall behind her. She’s caught up in her thoughts, just standing under the stream of water with her arms wrapped around herself.

“I know what you saw last night. I didn’t want you to find out the way you did. We were supposed to be happy together. Live happily, and you would forget everything about everyone. Just you and me, here.” His body was barely against her back before he was pulling her trembling body back into his arms. She hadn’t even realized she was shaking until then.

“You didn’t want me to find out what, exactly?” She tried softly, jaw trembling uncomfortably at the other things he had said. “How are we ever to live happily?” She didn’t know what Bucky expected of her. There was just something she couldn’t imagine. She turned in his arms, looking up at him.

“You’re going to have to promise me that you won’t react poorly to what I’m about to tell you.” Bucky tried carefully, and she felt everything fall apart in the seconds following the words leaving his mouth. How could she not react to anything? “I shouldn’t be the one telling you this, but…”

Tell her what?! Just two days prior she’d been living contently with her parents, and here, a mere 46 hours later… Everything had changed. She watched his face as he searched for the words, his thoughts conflicting visibly in his face.

“Steve… He isn’t your father.” Bucky started, and she felt her heart fall further into her chest. That hurt. “Your mother had someone else around the time you were conceived. Steve has taken a paternity test, and it’s true.” She felt the tears rise to her eyes yet again mixing with the water from the shower, both from the betrayal of Bucky but also from her parents.

“This has all been set up so Steve can claim you as dead. To get money from the insurance company.” He hides his face with his hand, visibly upset that everything has fallen apart. Everything has certainly not worked out the way it was supposed to. “But I’ve changed my mind. I can’t do this to you.”

“But you’ve already done it...” She whispered, before taking his hand in hers. “What changed?” She cradled his face in her other hand, watching him intently as he rubs his hand over his face. It leaves red marks in its wake, letting her know just how hard he’s rubbing the skin.

“We need to make sure he doesn’t get that money” Bucky grabs her face with his hands in an instant, his eyes searching hers intensely. He thinks over her question, licking his lips before he answers.

“Nothing changed. Even though I wanted this to start with, I never even considered getting rid of you. I want you to know that I’ve never looked at you wrongly before you were legal. I couldn’t bring myself to it, even though I knew you weren’t Steve’s. I never ever wanted to hurt you. Because I love you.”

She sighs and for a short while closes her eyes. A few seconds pass where he’s just watching her.

Then one side of her lips tug up into a smirk, before she’s looking at him with a mischievous look in her eyes. They both know what they have to do.

Then she speaks, instantly letting him know that everything is settled between the two of them.

“I love you. Let’s do it.”

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky x you #bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes

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cdelphiki · 3 years ago

Text

Kid Jason and Bruce bonding over cars, 5k words of fluff, no archive warnings apply.

“Good morning, lad,” Alfred said, one Saturday morning just as Jason stepped into the kitchen, “What would you like for breakfast?”

He’d skipped ‘family’ breakfast in favor of sleeping in, which Alfred had said multiple times was perfectly acceptable. He was 12, after all, and needed his sleep.

With a smile, Jason started crossing the kitchen, over to the pantry, as he said, “Hi, Alfred. I was just gonna get some cereal.”

“Then help yourself, lad.”

Despite saying ‘help yourself,’ Alfred both got him a bowl and the milk out, but otherwise let Jason pour himself the cereal. He then traded Jason the milk for a spoon before going back to whatever he was preparing before. Kinda looked like bread. He was kneading dough, whatever it was.

“What’s Bruce doing in the garage?” Jason asked, after he’d watched Alfred for a few minutes and got through half his bowl of cereal.

Alfred rolled the dough up into a loaf shape and dropped it down into a glass pan as he said, “Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

He didn’t even look over, but Alfred must have heard Jason frown, or something, because he then asked, “You like cars, don’t you?”

“Well yeah,” Jason stammered. He did like cars, but why did that mean he had to go ask Bruce what he was doing? “I just don’t want to bother him.”

Bruce was obviously doing work or something. He had spent almost the whole week working, and then had to take Jason out yesterday, so he probably had stuff he had to get done around the house, right? With… the tools.

“You won’t be bothering him,” Alfred said, like he thought it was impossible for Jason to bother Bruce, “I’m sure he will be more than happy to tell you about the work he’s doing on his cars.”

So he was doing work then.

Just… on his cars…

Jason looked down into his bowl and scooped out his last bite of cereal, contemplating whether he would go bother Bruce.

On the one hand, Bruce had said he would show Jason his cars if he just asked.

But on the other… he didn’t know. Things were good with Bruce so far, he was kind of scared if he bothered Bruce too much, he’d ruin it.

But as soon as Jason set his bowl back down, after finishing off the milk, Alfred walked over and took it, saying, “Go on, lad.”

And, well. Jason was supposed to listen to Alfred, right?

Back at the door to the garage, though, Jason hesitated. Bruce was back rummaging through the toolbox, but his Volkswagen was moved out to the middle of the floor, out of its normal parking spot in the line of cars away from the doors.

He didn’t turn around, though, when Jason hesitatingly pulled the door open and stepped down onto the the little set of three stairs that led to the garage floor. It wasn’t until he found whatever it was, it looked like a funnel from where Jason was standing, did he turn around and notice Jason.

“Hey, bud,” he said, as he pulled a little earbud out of his ear, “what’s up?”

“Alfred said I should come see what you were doing.”

Bruce nodded and put his little earbud in a case on the work bench as he said, “Oh, well I’m changing the oil on the cars today.”

“All of them?” Jason surveyed the garage and couldn’t help but think doing something like that would take ages.

“Most of them,” Bruce nearly hummed, as he opened the driver’s door to the Volkswagen and leaned inside. A second later, the hood popped.

Jason hopped down the last two steps and walked over toward one of the lines of cars, the one with the red lambo he’d been drooling over every time he was in the garage. He hadn’t had a chance to actually look at it, though. Because every time he was in the garage, Bruce was ushering him someplace or another.

Bruce peeked over at him, but didn’t say anything when Jason put his hand down on the hood of the car. It was gorgeous. Shiny and flawless. Not a single scratch on it anywhere Jason could see.

It was obvious it was taken care of, but Jason would have never thought Bruce did the work.

“Don’t you have people for that?” Jason asked, as Bruce opened the hood on the Volkswagen and propped it open like he’d done it a million times.

With seventy-four cars, he probably had done it a million times.

“Have you seen people around here I’m not aware of?” Bruce asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he checked the car’s oil, using the little stick thing. Jason had never actually seen someone do that before. Mostly because his parents hadn’t owned a car. He’d seen people do that on TV and stuff, though.

“No one’s mechanic lives with them,” Jason scoffed, turning fully from the Lamborghini to watch Bruce. Although Jason wouldn’t put it past a rich weirdo with a million cars to have a live-in mechanic.

Bruce huffed, what Jason assumed was a laugh, but he said, “I’m my own mechanic,” as he started messing with something in the car. Jason was kinda curious what.

“Why?”

“Is it so wrong I have a hobby?” Bruce asked, looking up at Jason finally.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Jason answered with a shrug, “You’re rich.” Rich people had hobbies there were like, horses. Horses and… well. Jason didn’t actually know, outside of illegal stuff, obviously.

“I like working on my own cars,” Bruce said, as he walked back over to his tool box and slipped on some gloves, “At least, on the cars I can work on. Some of these are just easier to bring to the dealership.”

“Really? Why?” Jason asked, looking back around at all the cars. Bruce actually had about ten cars, mostly sport cars, “Which ones?”

“It’s all the computer systems in the newer cars, I don’t feel like owning the equipment for every single car, especially if I don’t drive that car much, anyway. And cars like the Tesla you have to get parts for on the blackmarket, and it’s far more trouble than it’s worth.”

With a slight grin, Jason asked, “So you’re saying you don’t buy stuff from the black market,” as he pointed to himself when Bruce looked over. Regardless of his intentions, Bruce had exchanged money for him. Which was technically buying a child on the blackmarket.

Bruce just rolled his eyes, though, and said, “I try not to.”

“Why do you own like ten cars?” Jason asked, as he started inspecting the other cars in the line he was at. Next to the Lamborghini was a sleek black sports car and Jason was pretty sure was a corvette. He really needed to study the symbols on cars more. It was a little ‘V’ on the hood, so he was like, 98% sure.

“There’s only nine here and one is Alfred’s,” Bruce said, like that made a difference, “and I like cars. They’re fun to collect.”

“Do you actually drive them all? You always pick the Tesla when we go anywhere.” Or that one time the Volkswagen.

Although maybe Bruce brought the sports cars out on his dates or whatever he did at night. Jason had never watched him leave or anything.

Bruce leaned back over the Volkswagen’s engine compartment as he said, “I try to drive each one at least once a month, even if it’s just around the block.”

“Oh,” he said, shoving his hands into his hoody pocket. He was wearing his Wayne Enterprises one, since he’d sweated all over the Batman one.

Maybe Bruce was right and he needed a summer hoody or something, because it was hot in the garage, too. Since the door was open to the outside and all…

Jason walked over to the open garage door and leaned back against the threshold between inside and outside and asked, “How often do you do this?” as he motioned at everything inside the garage.

“Every six months,” Bruce said, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his t-shirt sleeve. Then he stood up and looked straight as Jason as he asked, “Do you want to help?”

“What?” Help?

Bruce would actually let Jason help?

“Come here,” Bruce motioned with his head for Jason to come over, “I’ll show you what I’m doing.”

Jason pushed off the wall and took an aborted step forward as he asked, “Really?” Couldn’t he like, fuck up the car horribly??

Why would Bruce want him to help?

“Of course, this is a good skill to know. One day you’ll have a car of your own to take care of.”

“I will?” Jason asked, a little dazed as he did cross the garage to where Bruce was working.

Not many people owned cars, where he was from. He’d never actually dreamed that one day he’d own a car.

But maybe he should have. Because… if he got a real job, like doctor or lawyer or something, then he’d have enough money to buy one.

And if he did that, he’d probably need one to get to work and stuff.

“Of course,” Bruce said, like he hadn’t even thought the opposite. Once Jason had fully approached the car, and inched up to the side of the engine compartment, across from Bruce, he said, “Okay, tell me what all you know about cars.”

“Uh,” Jason stammered. He didn’t know much about cars, in the grand scheme of things. He’d only recently been able to research them! “Well. I know that’s the engine,” he continued, pointing to where the engine was, hiding under a cover, “And it has, uh, cylinders and pistons…”

He trailed off, but when he looked back up at Bruce, Bruce was smiling brightly, like Jason had said the right thing, so he tried to return the smile.

“Great, you already know more than most drivers,” Bruce said, as he walked back over to his workbench. He grabbed a pair of gloves and held them out for Jason as he said, “Engines have oil in them we need to change, to make sure it’s staying clean. Dirty oil damages the engine, which can cause some serious problems. Engines also burn off oil, so changing it ensures we’re keeping enough in there for the engine to work properly.”

Jason listened attentively as he rolled his sleeves up and pulled the gloves on. Bruce went to on explain how they were going to get the old oil out, replace it, and change the oil filter. He’d known kind of vaguely the basics of all that, but he’d never heard it be explained in detail.

Bruce walked him through everything, and even let Jason do some of the work. Like pull out the old oil filter and insert the oil extractor down into the car. Bruce took a step back once he showed Jason what to do, and even let Jason extract all the oil. By himself.

It was actually super easy. No wonder Bruce did his own oil changes.

While Jason was watching the oil slowly drain from the engine and into the extractor, Bruce went and got two huge bottles of oil off the shelf, which was stocked with, like, twenty bottles of the stuff.

“That much?” It looked like he had two gallons of oil, or more. Probably more. The bottles were bigger than milk jugs.

“Yes,” Bruce said, as he set the two bottles on the ground next to the extractor, “This car needs almost six quarts.”

Jason had no idea how much that was, because who measured shit in quarts?? But he nodded and watched from the side of the car as Bruce took the extractor out and slipped the funnel in, then poured the entirety of one of the bottles in.

It wasn’t until he started pouring in the second bottle did Bruce say, “Okay, I need you to pull the dip stick out and check the level.”

Jason bounced back around to the front of the car, so he could reach the dip stick. Bruce stepped to the side, further out of the way, but couldn’t go too far since he was still holding the bottle over the funnel, but it was fine. Jason could reach it just fine.

“Pull it out and wipe it off,” Bruce explained, when Jason located the dip stick, “then dip it back in. That will give you an accurate reading.”

Nodding, Jason grabbed the rag Bruce had set next to the dip stick and did exactly as told. Once he had the ‘accurate’ reading he held it up into the sun and squinted at it, trying to figure out if he was supposed to be able to tell if it was low. “Uh, it’s below the bottom dot.”

“That means we don’t have enough in there. You want the oil between the two dots.”

“Ah.” Jason nodded, and watched as Bruce poured more into the engine, a little at a time.

Each time he had Jason check the levels again, until the line was almost all the way to the top dot. Once it was, Bruce nodded contentedly and said, “That’s good enough,” and put the bottle of oil back down on the ground, “Now we just have to put the new filter in and we’re done.”

Doing that was a piece of cake. It was basically just the reverse as removing it. Then Bruce had Jason put the engine cover on by himself and they were done.

Just like that.

“Great job,” Bruce said, as he removed the stick holding the hood open, then motioned for Jason to step back so he could drop it shut. Jason jumped when the hood slammed closed, but then smiled when Bruce added, “You’re a pro already.”

“This is some people’s job,” Jason said, as he stepped back into the sunlight, shining in through the open garage door behind him, where he could get a good look at all of Bruce’s cars.

“It sure is,” Bruce said, “Mechanics is a very good field to go into. We’ll always have a need for mechanics.”

“Unless all the rich assholes start doing it themselves,” Jason said, walking along the edge of the driveway, toward the other row of cars on the other side of the garage.

Bruce huffed as he peeled his gloves off and tossed them over at the work bench. “If I crashed one of these,” he said, walking back to the Volkswagen with the key in his hand, “or the engine failed or something drastic, I’d let a mechanic fix it. I just do the routine, easy things.”

“Oh.” Jason supposed that made sense. It probably wasn’t fun if it was super tedious or whatever.

While Bruce started up the Volkswagen and backed it up into its spot, in the row of cars across the way from Jason, he wandered down the new row of vehicles.

All of the cars Bruce or Alfred drove the most were closer to the door to the Manor, so that’s where the Tesla and Bentley were. On this side was some cars Jason didn’t even recognize. He’d need to do a lot of research on fancy-ass sports cars to figure them out, too.

That was, until he stopped on the last car in the row and recognized the SRT logo on the side of the grille.

“No way,” he whispered to himself, as he circled the car.

There was no way it was what he thought it was.

He’d just seen a documentary… or four… about this car three days ago. It was an expensive car, sure, but not like million dollars expensive. It wasn’t even 100k, if he remembered right. He hadn’t been expecting Bruce to have one.

Then again, Bruce owned a Volkswagen. And this was an awesome car.

“You like that one?” Bruce asked, from across the garage.

“Is this a Hellcat?” Jason asked, before he cupped his hands around his eyes so he could try to peek inside. Sadly the tinted windows were too dark, though, so he stood back up and looked over at Bruce.

And Bruce looked… delighted. That was the only way Jason could describe it. He looked delighted.

“It sure is.”

“Dude,” Jason exclaimed, excitement bubbling up in him so quickly he felt like he would burst, “No way! What year is it? Does it really have a red key? How fast does it go? Why don’t you drive this one everywhere!”

Bruce grinned probably the most genuine grin Jason had ever seen but he couldn’t even though about it, because holy shit. He was right!!!

This was like, one of his favorite cars ever.

He’d watched four different documentaries, all on youtube, all because of the red key and how the regular black key governed the engine but the red key unlocked over seven hundred horse power.

And besides being so fucking cool that a car could go so fast, it was such a funny image, picturing seven hundred horses pulling a car.

Bruce walked over to the key lock box, up near the door to the manor, and put his Volkswagen key away. Before he shut it, though, he pulled out a bright red key and Jason just about lost it.

“Oh my God, that’s so cool.”

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Bruce asked, holding the key up, but not yet crossing the garage.

“Are you serious?” Jason asked. Bruce unlocked the doors in answer, so Jason exclaimed, “Yes!” and quickly rounded to the passenger side to open the door and look inside.

The first thing that hit him was the new car smell.

Such a wonderful, beautiful smell. Probably one of his favorites.

“This is so cool,” he whispered, in hushed awe as he slipped into the passenger seat.

There was a backseat, but there was almost no windows back there, and barely any space, and he wanted to see. Not be trapped and blind to everything happening. So Jason buckled himself into the passenger seat and just hoped Bruce wouldn’t make him move.

But Bruce just walked around to the driver door, smiling softly as he slid in and buckled himself in. “Feeling good?” he asked, as he dropped the key into the cup holder.

Good????

Jason was fucking ecstatic.

“Are you gonna go fast?”

In answer, Bruce pressed down on the brake and pressed the start button, then revved the engine loudly.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Jason said under his breath, trying not to grin too wide when Bruce put the car in drive and slowly pulled out of the parking spot.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Bruce said. Jason didn’t even have enough time to agree, though, before Bruce lined the car up with the garage door and then gunned it.

Mostly because Jason was too busy laughing, watching the trees and bushes that lined the driveway speed by.

He only had to slow down a little for the gate, because somehow he told it to start opening before they got anywhere near it.

“You’re gonna get pulled over,” Jason said, through his laughter as Bruce hit 60 MPH out on the road outside the estate. On a road with a speed limit of 20.

“Probably,” Bruce agreed, obviously not caring one bit as he shifted gears and started going faster.

The car only his 70, though, before he slowed down to come to a stop sign at the end of their long, semi-private road.

“Okay, we have a couple options here,” Bruce said, looking over at Jason, “There’s a high school with a large parking lot we can play in, or there’s an industrial area with a network of roads that are deserted on Saturdays. Which do you think sounds better?”

Jason fidgeted in his chair, but asked, “Which one can you go faster on?”

“The industrial complex,” Bruce said, immediately turning the car to the left and zipping off again.

Bruce did keep the speed down, though, as they drove through all the little neighborhoods. Which was probably good, because Jason saw a few kids playing in their yards, and hitting a kid would probably be super bad.

But it only took a couple minutes before they were suddenly staring at a wide open straight road.

A huge wide open straight road, with four lanes running in either direction.

Obviously it was meant for tons and tons of traffic, but true to Bruce’s word, it was completely deserted.

“This was built up to be a large industry area,” Bruce explained, as he pulled onto the road and came to a stop right in the middle of it, “and there ended up being only two companies to move here. It’s one of my favorite places to play with a car.”

“It looks like a race track,” Jason observed, leaning forward in his seat so he could see over the dash, at the brake marks on the street right in front of them.

“It’s used as one. Ready?”

Quickly, Jason sat back in his seat again and nodded enthusiastically.

He was so ready.

Bruce smiled and put one hand on the wheel, the other on the clutch, then floored it.

Jason it thrown back into the seat hard, they accelerated so fast.

And all Jason could do was laugh.

Bruce treated the road like it’s a race track, circling it several times, making the car slide sometimes in his turns, the tires squealing as he did, every single time making Jason laugh harder.

It was the coolest fucking thing Jason had ever done.

They drove for nearly half an hour, Bruce driving around some of the smaller roads around the big huge buildings, and even doing a donut in the middle of a parking lot. Jason just knew that had to be terrible for the tires, but it was so cool to do.

So, so cool.

But eventually, Bruce did turn back to the manor, and by then, Jason’s stomach and cheeks hurt from laughing so much.

“You like this car, huh?” Bruce said, once they were going slow again, back through the neighborhoods with the kids.

“This is like, my dream car, dude,” Jason said, sitting back up to look at all the buttons on the dash. He hadn’t paid much attention to any of them. “Or, well, one of them.”

He had technically just learned about it a few days before, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t instantly become a dream car.

Bruce held a hand out, motioning at the radio as if saying ‘go ahead, mess with it,’ so Jason did.

He pressed all the buttons.

“Why is a Hellcat one of your dream cars?” Bruce asked, after Jason had figured out how to work the radio and was flipping through the seventy-billion satellite channels.

“I watched a bunch of youtube videos about these the other day,” he said, “I thought they were so cool with the red key. And badass looking too. I didn’t know you had one.”

“What are your other dream cars?” Bruce asked, as he grabbed the red key from the cup holder and held it out for Jason to take.

Happily, Jason took it and started inspecting it, looking at all the buttons in it, before he found a little switch that released the actual key from inside.

Although, obviously the car didn’t need the key. It needed the chip inside the key, that told the computer it was present.

“There’s a lot,” Jason eventually said, as he kept playing with the key. He couldn’t really think of car names, though. “I’ve seen a lot of really cool cars. I just never got to research them until, ya know. You gave me a laptop and stuff.”

“Right,” Bruce said, slowly, “What have you been researching on your laptop?”

“I saw an episode of some show about Roush Mustangs,” Jason said, as he dropped the key back into the cupholder and pulled his legs up on the seat, to sit criss crossed, “those look cool. Although your lambo is way cooler. Your Tesla is awesome, too. I always wanted to see a Tesla in person, then you had one.”

“The Tesla is my favorite commuter car,” Bruce said, as he shifted gears and sped up, now they were back on the semi-private road that led to the manor, “but almost all my other cars are more fun to drive.”

Jason nodded. He could see that, since the Tesla literally drove itself. “This one looks so fun to drive.”

“Tell you what,” Bruce said, once he reached the gate to the manor. This time, he had to come to a complete stop and type in his code and do the eye thing, “If you’re still here when you’re 15, I’ll tech you to drive on this car.”

“What?” Jason said, a little stunned. Because, “really??” He hadn’t even… thought that far ahead.

Not like that, at least. He’d only thought about getting through living with Bruce until he was 18, so he could move out and go to college.

But obviously if he was going to make it to 18, that would mean being here when he was 15 or 16, and…. well. That was when kids were supposed to learn to drive.

Why would he have ever thought Bruce would do that, though?? Teach him to drive??

That was what parents were supposed to do for their kids, and Jason was just a foster kid Bruce got stuck with, because Gordon made Bruce take him.

But, but, but… Bruce said he cared about him… so…

“With the red key?” Jason eventually asked, as Bruce pulled the car into the garage, and started slowly backing it up into its spot.

He paused, however, to give Jason a flat look as he said, “No.” He couldn’t hold the face, though, because he started laughing and added, “No way, with the regular key.”

“Aw.”

Although he supposed 500 horsepower was nothing to sneeze at.

“But,” Bruce said, “I might let you test out the red key, once you prove you’re a good driver.”

“Really?” Jason asked, sitting up straighter in his seat, trying to gauge Bruce’s sincerity.

He didn’t look like he was lying, so Jason cheered, “All right! I can’t wait to be 15.”

“Why don’t you focus on turning 13, first,” Bruce said, cutting the car off.

“Fine,” Jason whined, collapsing back into his seat dramatically. He righted himself quickly, though, to unfasten his seatbelt and hop out. “That was so cool, though.”

Bruce got out of the car himself, and just watched with a smile as Jason bounced up to the front of the car, to look at it and all the bugs they picked up.

Poor bugs, they didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Jason whirled around, a second later, when Alfred cleared his throat from the manor door.

“If you gentlemen are done, lunch has been waiting for you for quite a while. Do come eat it before it gets any colder.”

“Sorry, Alfred,” Jason said, at the same time Bruce said, “Sure thing, Alf.”

Alfred quickly retreated, so Jason turned to Bruce and asked, “Is he mad at us?”

“Nah.” Bruce shut his door and started walking to the manor door, but stopped when Jason didn’t start moving in step. “He’s not mad, Jason. That’s the face he makes when he’s very happy and doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t quite sure why Alfred would be ‘very happy,’ but Jason wouldn’t complain about that.

Bruce took a step forward, so this time Jason followed along, and stopped on the steps as Bruce put the key back in the box.

“You’re really going to teach me how to drive on that?” he asked, pointing back at the Hellcat. He kind of had a hard time believing it.

“Yes, I promise,” Bruce said, smiling when Jason shot him a grin.

“All right!” Jason cheered, grinning so wide his face started hurting again. “No take backs, okay?” he said, holding his fist out toward Bruce, “Fist bump.”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to be startled, apparently, because he looked at Jason’s fist like he had no idea what to do as he said, “What?”

“You’re hopeless,” Jason groaned, slouching dramatically before he straightened up and reached for one of Bruce’s hands. “Look, it’s easy.”

Bruce lifted his hand cautiously, and let Jason forced his fingers to form a fist as he said, “Make a fist. There. Okay, now pound it.” Jason make his own fist again and bumped it against Bruce’s hand, grinning wide again. “There. No take backs, we fist bumped.”

“Uh, yes,” Bruce said, like he couldn’t figure out what to fucking say. His smile grew wide, though, and then morphed into something fonder. “I swear it, no take backs.”

Jason fidgeted, under Bruce’s stare, so he quickly pushed open the door as he said, “Come on. Alfred said lunch is getting cold.”

He didn’t want to think about whatever Bruce was thinking.

They’d just had a freaking awesome time, Jason was not about to ruin it. No sir.

So he skipped on ahead, to the kitchen where Alfred had a couple paninis sitting on the counter, and just focused on the fact that Bruce was going to teach him to drive.

In the Hellcat.

All because Jason liked the car.

How fucking awesome was that????

This is chapter 46 of Reclaiming Innocence, slightly edited to read as a one-shot. Link to story can be found on my masterlist.

#Jason Todd #Robin #Baby Jason #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Batfam #Red HOod #This is a modified chapter from a longfic #i modified it to make it read more like a one shot #and also to make it ' no archive warnings apply'#fic is called Reclaiming Innocence on Ao3 by MurtaghMorzanson (me)#c writes

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corpsebasil · 4 years ago

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Easily Replaced | part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Kaz Rietveld didn't need a reason.

You knew this, of course, as you always had, but it was most clear the day you, Jordie, and Kaz stepped foot into Ketterdam. The two brothers were, as long as you’d known them, ambitious. Ketterdam would fuel that ambition.

"For you, Sankta." Jordie Rietveld laughed, and covered your eyes with his hands.

He was thirteen—much too old for you, as you were only eight, and though you were teased back in southern Kerch for hanging around with him so much Jordie was something like a brother to you. Your own parents were gone—your mother a woman who died too young and your father a mystery.

"I thought you were getting me food." Kaz scoffed, plucking the wrapped omelette out of your hands before you even had a moment to see it.

"Kaz!" You shrieked as you tore out of Jordie's grasp, lunging for the food, but Kaz simply laughed in return, looping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you along, sharing the omelette between them.

The omelette stands in Ketterdam were Kaz and your favorites.

"(Y/N), wait." Jordie called and you paused, turning to glance over at him. His expression was wide and happy—the happiest he'd been in a long time, since he and Kaz's father had died. "Welcome home." He said, and you smiled.

"WAIT!" You yelped, lurching into sitting position so fast your head spun.

He was there, you thought, still blinking away the image of Jordie from behind your eyes.

Your heart raced and your eyes stung as you stood, scanning the streets several stories below you. You’d fallen asleep on the window pane after sneaking into your room at the Slat—if Kaz wanted you gone that night, you’d be gone by morning just to spite him. If only so you had more time to snoop around.

You weren’t expecting the dreams again.

You wiped your hands over your face and sighed, blinking away the remnants of sleep and forcing Jordie to the back of your mind. Jordie Rietveld would always stay in the very back of your mind, in the dregs; you’d think about him only during your last breath, and wouldn't let yourself do it one moment before then.

You crept out of your room and glanced around its interior once more, hefting your satchel over your shoulder. You’d miss this place—you’d miss Ketterdam, but if leaving helped keep certain memories at bay and kept a certain someone from bashing your head in it was worth the risk.

Your feet were silent when you finally dropped to the streets outside and ran, taking back-ally's and fire-escapes and rooftops as you traveled across Ketterdam on a route few knew. Your mask was pulled up and your hood rippled behind you, your shape merely a black speck against the moonless sky.

When you reached the Crow Club you ducked the guards and snuck through a window at the top. If there was anything to be known about the heist for one million kruge the Dregs had been murmuring about, Kaz would know about it. And if you were anything you were vengeful, and you’d get that prize to earn your freedom or you’d die trying.

"The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf." Kaz's rock salt voice reached you and you paused, one foot sinking into the plush carpet of your old friend's office.

"Well, it's a new acquisition." Another voice purred, and your blood ran cold.

You knew that voice.

That voice had haunted you for years.

"You heard it here first." The voice continued, and you dropped into a crouch, tugging your hood over your head as you crept towards the office.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Kaz was being held on his knees by a nondescript man with a sneer on his face while Pekka, Pekka Rollins, clutched Kaz's cane like he owned it. Your stomach rolled as you took in Pekka's face and you barely stopped yourself from gagging.

It was him.

It was the man who killed Jordie.

"Now, I know you saw Dreesen," Pekka continued, oblivious to the assassin hardly ten feet away who was contemplating his inevitable death. "You got the jump on whatever job he has. I don't know the details...obviously, just that you have a little travel hazard ahead of you. So. Here's the deal: you can do nothing—walk away from it. I'll tell Dreesen I'm taking over for you." He paused, a cruel smile on his face. "Then we're even."

"Not even close—" Kaz began, and you tensed. You knew the man holding him, touching him, was causing him agony.

You had to stop it. You had decided long ago that Pekka Rollins' death would be slow. You could make it last for hours—could make blades sing until he was nothing left but a scrap on a table, but something fast might have to do.

"The other option is..." Pekka began, leaning forward to press the beak of Kaz's cane against his jugular, and you lunged. "I'll cave your head in with your own—"

"Let go of him." You snarled and, quick as an asp, had one of your many blades nestled dangerously against Pekka's throat.

Kaz let out a sharp breath and tensed as the man holding him pulled out a gun, pressing it to his temple to balance the odds.

"Sankta Riipka," Pekka mused, seemingly unaffected by the knife against his neck. "it's nice to finally make your aqu—"

"Shut up, pig." You spat and dug the blade in deeper, your eyes snapping up to the man next to Kaz. You felt steel against your head and froze—

—you’d forgotten about the other member of Pekka's trio.

"By the time you kill me," Pekka began, oozing calm that made to your blood boil, "my friend here will shoot your friend. And then you." He made to twist in his chair and you tightened your grip, stilling him. You knew you were drawing blood. "You ought to make the wise decision here, Riipka."

"Let him go." You repeated, heart pounding violently, refusing to look at Kaz even as you felt the gun against the back of your head push harder. "Let him go or I swear on all Saints I'll slit your throat right here."

The room was quiet for several beats before the man holding Kaz shoved him, knocking your friend—was he your friend?—to the floor. You made no move to remove the knife—your chest was tight and your breathing uneven. Jordie's face was flashing behind your eyes and this moment, this moment, killing Pekka, was what you had been waiting for.

You could do it.

Why couldn't you do it?

You could—

"Stop." Kaz breathed and you froze, meeting his stare. His face was serious but his eyes—they were filled with pain. "Just stop."

"You should listen to Mr. Brekker." Pekka crooned and your gritted your teeth, biting back a snarl as you removed the knife and swung, knocking the gun out of the man behind you’s hands.

He threw his arms up and froze but Pekka simply laughed, eyeing you like you were a monkey at a circus. You felt small and, for the first time in a long time, like you were eight years old again, sweating with a burning illness and being sheltered by a widow who had no kids of her own.

You felt like you were eight years old, managing to survive the plague and stumbling down to the docks, half-drunk with a barely broken fever and finding Kaz laying drenched in sea-water on a dock, screaming at you in agony.

It was Pekka's fault.

It was all his—

"No one has to die today, Riipka," Pekka smirked at whatever he saw in your eyes and brushed past, chuckling to his accomplices as they left the office and slammed the door behind them.

The room was silent for several moments before you turned, watching Kaz as he stared at the floor, making no move to stand.

"Let me help you—" you began, reaching out to offer a gloved hand but he jolted, deer-in-headlight-eyes flashing to yours.

"Don't touch me." He snapped, face flushing, and the knot in your throat threatened to burst.

He pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and scrambled for his cane, one hand absently on his leg as he winced. It was terrible to watch—he was strong all the time, and so serious but this...

...this was him broken. And you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing it.

"I should've killed him," you started over, hands trembling as you resisted the urge to reach out to him. You didn't know if you wanted to help or if you just wanted, needed, his touch. "I should've—"

"You should've been gone by now." He swallowed roughly as his cane hit the floor with a thud, eyes snapping back to yours. "I had it handled. We all could've died tonight because of—"

"Don't you dare blame me for—"

"Well if you had just left when I asked—"

"I'm not leaving you!" You shrieked, yanking off your mask and hood so that you could breathe better. "You can boss me around and yell at me and treat me like Jordie was my fault all you want but—"

"I don't think that," he interrupted, his face stricken as he stared at you. "Saints, (Y/N)." You were silent for a moment, both breathing heavily, before he shook his head and turned away. "If you're not going to leave me alone, at least leave the Club. I can't—" he paused, sighing exasperatedly. "I can't deal with this tonight."

Without waiting for a reply he strode out the door and shut it, locking it behind him so you’d have to leave out the window. You waited for several moments until you were sure he was gone, strode over to the spare couch around the corner and screamed into the pillow until your throat hurt.

@iamnoobmaster69 @emil7y @balmasedas @euphoniumpets @subjecta13-thefangirl @itisroe @thefandomplace @ambrosia-v-black @i-padfoot-things @kaitlyn2907

hiii sorry I know this one was kinda angsty but it’s gonna spice up soon HA

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #wattpad #shadow and bone #six of crows #angst #Ketterdam #kanej #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #freddy carter #Jordie Rietveld

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subwaysurf45 · 3 years ago

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Winter Makes Ice (Ep.3)

Summary: you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

Words: 2799

Episode: Three

Warning: not much, flashbacks, talks of violence

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Two

Time: 1:00pm

Date: October 2nd 2024

It didn’t take long for everyone to board the helicopter and for it to take off, no one was lounging around this morning so they assembled quickly. Bucky sat by himself on the heli, the file was still open in his hands with the page turned to Dr. Wright. Bucky looked over the information that was given; he double and triple checked. There was a car waiting for them when they were going to arrive, Bucky would get dropped off and then Steve, Nat, and Wanda would drive around Halifax but would keep watch for a distress signal. Bucky made it clear it would only be him talking to the doctor, he was practicing his script in his head.

“Five minutes ‘till landing,” the pilot spoke into his headset, the sound went to their ears sounding like a 1940s radio show.

“Copy,” everyone replied without unison.

The plane got lower and lower until it touched the ground; it was a private tarmac for primarily military forces and other important people; SHIELD was always allowed to use it. Everyone got off the plane after the propellers began to slow down, Bucky had jumped off once while they were still at top speed and got flung forward but the air. The all black car stood a ways in front of them, they all took their bags and headed over.

“What a ride…” Steve muttered as he ran his hand against the perfect hood, this car was brand new and probably had never been in the sun before. It wasn’t a low sport car but rather an everyday car that was bullet proof and decked out with an AI on the inside, no one would take a second glance at it but the four of them marveled at how this car could fit in amongst others. The black rims matched the black tires and the black paint, this was Bucky’s dream car.

They all got in and the ride began, Steve drove while Wanda sat in the back with Bucky, Nat was in the passenger seat playing her music. Every so often Wanda would look over to Bucky, he could see her out of the corner of his eye, she’d give a sympathetic glance and maybe open her mouth as if she was about to say something but chose against it. Bucky had Dr. Wright’s address on the file sheet; he was giving directions to Steve as they drove through the colourful houses.

They had never seen houses like this, around four to five houses lined up next to each other, each of them were painted a different colour but they looked the same. Flowers grew in little holders under the two window sills at the front of the house, tulips were the most popular, vines would grow on the side where the sun didn’t shine too much and pain would chip around the bottom of the houses. Some houses still had Halloween decorations up, red leaves scattered on the ground and blew everywhere. There was a brown hue to the world around them, pumpkins were scattered on some door steps while other people still had Christmas lights up from last year.

Bucky tapped Steve’s head rest and the car slowed to a stop, they looked out to their left to see a house that looked like it belonged to the community. It wasn’t modern and square with sleek grey tiles on the outside, it was old and run down. A ghost hung from the single garage light, one pumpkin was sitting on the doorstep. This house didn’t look like one of a nazi group member, nevermind just a person with their doctorate.

Tons of leaves crunched under Bucky’s combat boots, the road was littered with them, it made it seem like it was a red and yellow road. He looked both ways as he crossed even though no cars were on the road except for the military grade undercover car, Bucky looked over his shoulder to see Wanda waving. They were going to head to a farmers market in this town to pass the time, and Bucky would walk over there when he was done. He gave a thumbs up and the car drove away and down the street, he didn’t watch to see it disappear, Bucky only had one thing on his mind and it wasn’t some apple pies Wanda was looking for.

The driveway looked new as well as the cobblestone walkway, one car was in the driveway and it looked to match the house, no crazy sports car. There was a screen door before an actual green wooden door, Bucky pulled back the screen and didn’t bother with the doorbell, he banged on the door. When he pulled his fist away there was a flake of green paint on his middle finger’s knuckle, a quick swipe and it was gone. Bucky stood back because he saw that in the movies, his back turned to the door as he looked out to the town. It was a lovely day, most people were probably at this farmer’s market, Bucky had never been to one even though you had offered to take him.

His head whipped back at the door opening, the same man, but only older, opened the door. He looked tired and worn out, this was probably his last Halloween. The cane he was holding was shaking in his grip, the other hand gripped the side of the door extremely tight. You could see the white through the speckled skin.

“What can I help you with, son?” the old man spoke with a smile, he licked his gums. A Canadian accent seemed almost cartoon-ish.

Bucky froze as he looked at this man, the sight of him brought him back to his nightmares and everything he’d been through. The name ‘son’ rolled off this man’s tongue and down Bucky’s spine and sent a shiver running all through him, it was obvious this man didn’t know who Bucky was. Bucky almost felt bad that he was bothering him, it was obvious he wasn’t a walker and standing seemed to be his exercise for the day, but at the same time Bucky couldn’t help but think about all the ways he could rip this doctor apart.

“Son?” the name came again.

Bucky looked up with a shake of his head, “hello, are you Dr. Wright?” he asked quietly.

“Yes it is, what do you need?” he didn’t seem freaked out that Bucky knew his name, it was a small town.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky started but the man didn’t seem to figure it out, “I am the Winter Soldier- used to be actually…” Bucky added.

“Are you here to kill me?” the man’s voice shook, “because if you really are him then you have every right to do so,” he stepped back and opened the door for Bucky to walk in.

“I’m here to talk, you’re not going to die.” Bucky walked in and kicked off his combat boots, he’d heard it’s a thing in Canada to take your shoes off in the house. He also heard there was bagged milk which didn’t make any sense to him, but he wasn’t about to argue.

“That’s always good to hear, eh?” the accent slipped out again, it was weird for Bucky to see this man who haunted him just laughing. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Dr. Wright asked as he made his way into the kitchen.

His house was small, not many walls as one room just faded into another. Knick-knacks littered shelves and tables, everything brought a homey feel to it all, the house was very lived in. “No thanks,” Bucky waved up a hand to signal no.

The doctor came and sat across from him, Bucky was sitting on a chair while Dr. Wright took the sofa, they both were wrapped in plastic. It made a squeaky sound when either of them moved but it didn’t seem to bother the doctor at all, Bucky one final time before swearing he wasn’t going to move again and hear that annoying sound. Both of Bucky’s hands were clasped in front of him, he felt too large and bulky for this petite chair, his fingers fiddled with each other. He’d pick and poke at the massive gloves he wore, his long sleeve was covering everything he needed.

“So, Dr. Wright-”

“Jacob, son,” he corrected, “though I am a doctor,” Jacob hesitated, “I go by Jacob.”

“Is that your real first name?” Bucky asked, he was met with a smile and nod, “then call me Bucky, please.” Bucky smiled back, there was a growing tension between the both of them but they chose to ignore it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” Jacob seemed to relax at the name, he was scared of Bucky and Bucky could tell. This man had seen Bucky train for years on end, and Jacob knew what the Winter Soldier was capable of. “What do you need to talk to me about?” his cane rested beside him, his hand found its way there and just held it.

“I need to talk to you about Hydra, any information you have on the Iceland base- or any base in Halifax, Iceland, Greenland, and there’s one more…” Bucky brought a gloved hand to his stubbled chin, the leather making a rough noise when it brushed against the facial hair. “Oh! It was Newfoundland, anything you knew about those four places.”

Jacob thought for a moment, he didn’t have stubble to rub. Though he was old it was obvious he still thought that it was the old days, hair slicked back and a very fresh shave, facial hair wasn’t allowed unless you had grown it out in private. Bucky had always remembered Howard Stark’s mustache; he couldn’t picture him without it.

“I mean, I was just a scientist, I ran labs and tested things on animals. I didn’t come up with the world ending plans, I was never told the reason for what I was doing, I was just told to do it.” Jacob sounded worried, “when I used to work for Hydra I was worried for my life everyday, they were so paranoid all the time that someone could be a rat. If you said ‘hail Hydra’ a little too quietly then you’d have a bullet between your eyes, I just kept my head down and did what I was told.” Jacob’s hand got increasingly tighter on the handle of his cane.

“Was there something new they were working on?” Bucky asked, and he pulled out a little flip book to keep track.

“I quit a total of ten years ago, when I was seventy-one, the only thing they were thinking of was keeping you in their grasp, there was no other plan.” Jacob shrugged, “Hydra couldn’t see a life source without you, they never intended on losing you the way they did.”

“So you have no idea what they could possibly be working on, at all?” the hope Bucky had was falling, this was the only lead they knew and if all he could say was there was never a plan B, you were screwed.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I really want to help, but I just don’t know.” Jacob stood and walked back to the kitchen. He filled a glass of water and grabbed three pills from a container before heading back over to his seat.

“Out of the four places I mentioned, Iceland, Greenland, Halifax, and Newfoundland,” Bucky paused and watched Jacob mutter them to himself and then take the pills, “which one is the strongest?”

Jacob swallowed his pills with water, “Iceland.” without any hesitation, no second guess, nothing giving away he was lying for didn’t know. “Iceland was hell for me, it has the best of the best for agents, scientists, and…” he glanced out the window, “cells and tourture.”

Bucky shot up right away, he headed to the door. Jacob followed him, glass still in his hand. When Bucky was about to leave Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder. When Bucky turned back around the hand traveled along the center of his chest, “I'm not wired, Jacob.” Bucky eased.

“Some things just come second nature, son.” Jacob kept his head down, “y’know, I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was making my old man proud, but I never stopped to realize what I was doing was actually wrong.” Jacob looked up with glossy eyes, “I actually wanted to find you at some point because I know I was the one who woke you up last, I remember clearly the way you looked, right then, I knew I needed to leave that place.” Jacob shuffled over and stood completely square to Bucky, Bucky just looked down at Jacob with a face of horror. The man Bucky saw every night was crying and apologizing to him, he didn’t know anyone who worked with Hydra had a heart. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” Jacob reached in his back pocket, he had placed the glass of water on a side table. “Here, take some money-”

“No, none of that, Jacob, really,” Bucky held his hands out, “you’re forgiven, don’t worry about all that, I just need to find someone.” Bucky reached for the door.

“What do you mean?” Jacob fished in his wallet.

“Hydra stole my girlfriend, I think she's in Iceland.” Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together at Jacob who was given him a coin.

“I think you’re right,” Jacob dropped the coin in Bucky’s palm before closing the door, the screen door creaked as it shut quickly with the wind.

Time: 2:33pm

Date: October 2nd 2024

Steve, Nat, and Wanda were walking around on the closed road, stands of every fruit and pastry lined the streets. Wanda was on top of the moon, she had a tote bag with some apple turnovers in them, that was really all she wanted. Nat had actually bought something too, Steve was genuinely surprised when Nat bought some earrings from a vendor, they were very small and dainty moons that would go in her ear lobes. Steve didn’t buy anything but just liked walking around, there was a lot to see but in a good way, no screens or jumbotrons, just people being people.

As Bucky made eye contact with Steve, Steve’s phone rang. Nat and Wanda rushed up to Bucky and were asking how it went, but the unknown caller was what Steve was focusing on.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve lowered his voice.

“Captain Rogers,” an all too familiar voice hit his ear.

“King T’Challa?” Steve turned his back to the group.

“We have three Hydra agents in custody, they tried to take out my sister,” his accent flowed and bounced as he talked.

“Keep them in the cells, we’re on our way.”

“Will there be more of them?” T’Challa asked before he could hang up.

“I don’t know, but hold them and don’t kill them, they might be our only hope.” Steve said his goodbyes and hung up.

When he turned back to Bucky and the rest of them, they seemed scared, Bucky had overheard Steve’s call, super hearing, and was looking at him weird.

“What was that?” Bucky asked.

“King T’Challa, says there was an attempted hit on Shuri, doesn’t know where they came from but they want her.” Steve shoved his phone in his back pocket, “what did you find?”

Bucky just held up a silver coin, “we’re going to Iceland.”

“We need to go to Wakanda,” Steve stepped forward.

“Not all four of us,” Nat pulled everyone aside from the farmer’s market, “I’ll go with Steve to Wakadna, you go with Wanda to Iceland. We’ll be talking and before you ambush the Hydra base in Iceland we’ll confirm y/n is in there, deal?” She looked to the other three.

“Deal.”

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine @commonintrest @buckyys-doll @lil-baby-nor

let me know if you want a tag!

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes series #bucky #bucky x yn #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #winter #winter soldier #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #winter soldier series #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst

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sanguinescorpios · 3 years ago

Text

Still Alive

dream x f!reader

PART ONE

summary | Just under 20 years ago, the world slipped from humanity’s grasp and fell into the lap of mutant creatures. While most humans hid from the variants, some, like reader, grew restless in the bases they grew up in and needed out. What will happen when reader realizes that she doesn’t stand a chance in the wild on her own, and can something deeper blossom from a survival-based alliance?

warnings | none!

word count | 1.7k

I had never seen a flower before. At least, not that I could remember. Things like that didn’t exist within the confines of the city walls, the beautiful, living things. The things that reminded you you were alive. My gaze fixated on the object before I even knew what I was looking at. Its petals swirled with pinks and purples, hues I had only seen in worn-out wool and peeling paint. Deep emerald leaves adorned a similarly colored stem, all woven together intricately and standing out amidst the field of brown. I marveled at the plant, bending down to hold it delicately between two fingers. It was incredible, even better than in photographs.

I spent months looking through the old textbooks Zoe had found, simply admiring the anatomy of different flowers and plants from the Old World. She was so excited to show me. I can still picture her jumping up and down as she entered my room in her tattered sports jersey and two-sizes-too-big jeans, a huge stack of books cradled like a child in her arms. Her tight curls were always pulled up into two buns, perfectly placed on the top of her head and bouncing with her childlike movements. I had quirked up an eyebrow at her as she wordlessly dropped her findings on my cot with a thump.

“Books,” she had said, looking at me with a newfound glimmer in her eye, “textbooks. We can learn!”

There was plenty of other information in those textbooks, but the flowers fascinated me. They caught my attention not just for their beauty, but for their mechanics, too. As I read, I began to appreciate how their roots anchored them to the earth, how their stems acted as passageways for water and nutrients, how they came in so many shapes, shades, and sizes. I wanted to know everything I could about them. I had always been that way, I guess.

A nearly foreign feeling emerged in me as a smile curled its way onto my face. The muscles were rusty from a long hibernation and they weren’t sure how to react to the sudden use. Dust found its way into my eyes as my cheeks rose with the grin, so I brushed it away quickly. That, I was used to.

“A cosmos,” I said to no one but myself. Of course, it was a cosmos.

The world before me was barren, a bleak expanse of land that seemed to never end. How the fuck was I supposed to survive out here? Despite my extensive studying, I wasn’t necessarily well-versed in survival. I had no protection out here, no roof over my head, and no soldiers with weapons on watch for intruders, or worse, for variants. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. Variants were the one thing I knew almost nothing about, despite how hard I tried to get information from the watchmen and neighboring families. In all honesty, we didn’t know much about them, just that they didn’t seem to like us too much. One week the world was our terrain and the next it was theirs. I had never met one and I wasn’t planning on doing so, but I no longer had control over that. I chose to leave and there was no turning back.

That didn’t make it any less terrifying.

Adjusting my pack on my back, I grabbed my flask and poured a bit of water over the stubborn flower.

“Hope we make it, little guy.”

One last look at the distant confines I used to call home, then I was walking again, this time never turning back.

. . .

As it turns out, walking across one huge expanse of dust and dirt isn’t very fun! In fact, it’s fucking brutal. I had no idea where I was going, that much was clear not even ten minutes into the journey. Leave the city, that was my only plan. A shit plan, in hindsight. I reached into one of the many pockets of my pack and pulled out my water bottle. Last sip, that’s not good. If I could just go a little longer and reach the forest, I’d be okay. Much of the landscape had been torn apart over the years, but there were still occasional patches of green, at least that’s what I had been told. Just a little farther, surely I would reach it soon.

The hours dragged on, all melding together into one blurry week of sleeping in a ripped tent in the middle of nowhere and barely eating or drinking. When my eyes focused on a small dot of green in the distance, I nearly brought my hands up to rub the mirage from them, but I knew better than to do anything like that before washing. Especially after the week I’ve had, too much dust and not enough water.

I had been preparing for my lunch break when I spotted it, excited to get my hands on my tenth granola bar of the week. All desire for a break left my body, replaced by the desperate need to get to that forest before nightfall. There could be water in there, shelter, food, the possibilities were endless. I picked up my pace, feet moving with fervor despite my obvious exhaustion. My pack threatened to slip off my back, but I ignored it.

I reached the edge of the forest by nightfall, a shudder running through me at the thought of spending the night alone in the dense environment. Anyone or anything could be living here, and they could be hungry. The ground didn’t feel safe, too open and vulnerable of a place to sleep, but the sliver of moonlight shining down on me wasn’t enough to find anywhere else. This would have to do.

A few restless hours passed before I had finally fallen into a deep sleep, my back pressed uncomfortably against a tree and my pack serving as a makeshift pillow. I didn’t bother to set up camp, figuring I’d pick up and move in the morning anyways. I expected to get a few good hours of sleep at least, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, I was shaken awake by unfamiliar hands and a gruff voice.

“Get the fuck up,” the voice barked as my eyes adjusted to the morning light, peering up at the shaded figure looming over me.

“Wha-what?”

“Get. The fuck. Up.” The figure grabbed my pack from underneath my head and I groaned at the rude awakening. In my early morning haziness, I barely questioned the individual’s orders. My body moved before my brain told it to, pulling itself out of the fetal position and standing up, unsteady but sturdy enough.

As I rose to my feet, I took a good look at the person for the first time. He stood tall, towering over my frame with long legs and broad shoulders. Underneath his hood, a mask shielded most of his face from me; it looked to be made of some sort of wood and with the jagged smile that was carved into it, it was borderline terrifying. Dark blond hair toppled out and around the thing, curling messily at the ends. He sported muted green cargo pants and a thick belt bearing a multitude of knives and other weapons I didn’t even want to imagine. A black T-Shirt spread across his torso, strong arms emerging from the sleeves and gloved hands gripping a satchel against his hip. If this went south, I was outmatched.

“What made you think sleeping on the ground was a good idea?” he hissed out a few minutes later as he led me through the trees, taking angry steps at least two yards ahead of me.

“I didn’t have many other options,” I responded simply, not sure what he wanted from me and still groggy with sleep.

“Well, you picked the stupidest option.”

I rolled my eyes, who did this guy think he was? Sure, the ground wasn’t the smartest choice, but it was all I had! I huffed, kicking at a rock as he stopped to check...something — who knows what he was doing.

“You got a name, mask boy?”

He shushed me, holding up his index finger as he looked around at our surroundings.

“It was just a question-”

“Dream,” he cut me off, “now shush.”

He said it simply, like it wasn’t the most absurd name anyone had ever heard, and went right back to surveying the space around us. I poked my head around at him, trying and failing to get this mystery man’s attention.

“Is that your real name?” I inquired, making awkward eye contact with the mesh-covered eyeholes of his mask and wishing I could see his face when he answered. Maybe then I’d know if he was bluffing or not. Or if he planned on killing me.

“It’s what you’ll call me.”

There was a finality in the way he said it, a sternness in his voice that I wasn’t about to argue with. A beat passed in utter silence, me waiting for him to continue the conversation and him already three steps ahead of me on the path. Dream isn’t a chatty guy, noted.

I jogged to catch up to him, slowing as I reached his side. He didn’t seem like he was going to kill me as soon as night fell on the already dark forest, but keeping him in my sight was the safest bet.

“You’re not gonna ask my name?” He turned to face me, raising an eyebrow and bobbing his head as if to say ‘go on’. I gave him my name and he grunted in response — men.

He persevered through the forest, cutting away branches and leaving a green mess in our wake. I had no idea where we were going or why I was following his lead so easily, but he seemed confident and I trusted his confidence more than my own.

“So…” I dragged on, twiddling my thumbs and shooting him a look, “do we have a plan here or are we just gonna wander for the next five hours of daylight?”

He rolled his eyes, letting out an “ugh” as he pushed through another set of leaves. I wasn’t wrong; the sun would be setting soon, and based on how he reacted this morning, he wasn’t a night owl.

“Our camp is set up a few miles north. We should get there before nightfall.”

Did he say our?

#dreanwastaken #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken fanfic #mcyt writing

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kimnjss · 3 years ago

Note

OOH DRABBLES!? Can you please do one from groupie love and yn is like whining for Hobi to finish working in the studio so he puts her on his lap and fingers her or something and then she gets all tired and falls asleep

groupie love drabble. explicit. 1.5K words.

you've been here all day. not even an exaggeration, you've been here all day. it was a cute idea on paper. showing up at the studio unannounced to surprise your boyfriend, he always loved when you popped in... especially if you came with snacks. with the hopes of him saying 'fuck it' and turning in early, you bring more than just snacks.

dressed in the dress you know he loves to see you in, a pastel-colored mini that hugged the soft lines of your body nicely. hair pulled back to show off the dazzling necklace he had got for you for one anniversary or another. and then there was the kicker... two large bento boxes in hand with his name on it.

hoseok turns for no more than a few seconds, just enough time to flash you that pretty smile of his. he mouths something, but you don't catch it too focused on the lack of excitement in his features. and then he's turning back to the computer as if you're not standing there waiting for his attention.

maybe he didn't notice it was you. setting the food down on the table, you're moving to stand behind him. a single manicured finger poking into his shoulder just before you're leaning into his view. “helloooo!” nose scrunching at the sight of the large headphone covering his ear, you don't hesitate to pull it back. “baby. you didn't see me?”

all he does is nod, gently pulling the earphone from your grip to secure it back in place. he does, though, lean up to press a soft kiss to your lips – keeping the pout from fully forming. “give me a minute, princess. i'm almost done,” he smiles softly, hand reaching up to pat your head in the way that he does before he was turning his attention back to the monitor.

that was hours ago. the sun had set, and his food had gone cold. you've gone from restless to annoyed at least ten times and you were just seconds from flicking objects at the back of his head. it's bobbing along to the beat of whatever song he's making and while you loved the sight of your boyfriend doing what he loved, you can't help but roll your eyes.

“hoseokkkk!” his name dragged out through a huff as you're hopping back up. “are you done yet?” words falling on deaf ears, he doesn't even budge. you're stomping in his direction, arms crossed over his chest. “are you done yet?” you repeat, stood beside him this time and he doesn't even look!

you're reaching for his ear, but he's quicker than you, jerking his head to the side before you can touch it. oh, so now he wants to acknowledge you. it's an obvious sign to let him work, but you can't bring yourself to care. so once again, you're reaching out – this time for the wire that connects his headphones to the computer. you're tugging it before he can bat your hand away. “are you done yet?”

the angry expression on his face melts into a mildly annoyed one when his eyes land on the pout of your lips at how big and sad your eyes are. “i said one minute, baby.” he speaks much softer than he initially intended.

“you said that three hundred-fifty-three minutes ago,” that has a laugh falling from his lips, eyes shifting to the computer screen where the time is displayed. well after eleven at night and if he remembered correctly, you had come barreling in around five. now he felt bad, it had only felt like a few minutes since you got here.

he's turning his chair to face you fully, arms reaching out to wrap around your waist. easily pulling your body toward his, he's able to maneuver your body into his lap. “i'm sorry, love. i just got caught up... i'm almost done, though.” that's obviously not what you wanted to hear, because you're huffing again, moving to stand from his grip.

hoseok is quickly tightening his arms around your body, keeping you pinned to him. “just a little longer, i promise. why don't you sit in my lap while i finish?” he offers with an all too convincing smile. it doesn't take long for you to loosen up, allowing him to pull you comfortably between his legs before he's turning to face the screen again.

you stay like that for twenty minutes. his hand resting innocently on your stomach as he plays around with the track in front of him. your back is pressed into his chest, the soft breaths he lets out tickling the side of your neck. he's humming, tapping his fingers against your stomach and although you know he's still 'in the zone', it's much better than being sat on that uncomfortable couch.

it's calming, being cradled by him. the way you sink into his chest is involuntary, head resting on his shoulder just so you're able to nuzzle your face in the crook of your neck. the feeling of your soft lips against his skin is what snaps him out of his musically induced trance. you leave a trail of soft kisses, mixing in a few mind-numbing swipes of your tongue.

one hand resting on the other side of his neck, holding him in place as your mouth moves. he doesn't even have it in him to remind you that he has work to do because your mouth feels so good and he can't keep his mind from wandering to how good it feels in other places.

the hand on your stomach moves on its own accord, gliding down the front of your body until his fingers are finding the skin of your thigh. fingers gripping the flesh underneath them, eyes fluttering as you invite your teeth to the party. you're wiggling above him, ass just barely brushing against his covered cock.

that was the farthest thing from your mind, though, your real focus was spreading your legs apart for the next thing that you wanted from him. free hand reaching for his on your thigh, leading it underneath the hem of your dress until it's completely covering your mound.

“fuck,” he's groaning, fingers making quick work to nudge your panties to the side. he finds your clit instantly, the pads of his fingers rubbing slow circles into it. the breathy moans you let out fan over his ear, urging him on. toying with you until your hips are rolling into his touch, slit growing wetter with each push of his finger.

it's not until you're dripping, squirming underneath his touch does he reach down. the tips of his fingers finding your entrance and slipping in with ease. sharp teeth sinking into the skin of his neck to muffle the whine he knows you want to let out. so wet and warm around his fingers, it's a bummer it's not his dick buried inside of you instead.

this was good enough for now, though. he pushes his way past your walls until his knuckles meet your wetness. the pace he sets is slow at first, allowing you to get yourself together, but the moment you're rolling your tongue onto the fresh bite marks – he's picking up the pace.

pulling a gargled curse from your lips as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. you try, desperately, to keep up, hips rolling and bucking into his palm. “hobi-,” your hand searches for something to grip on, going from his thigh to his wrist to your breast. eyes fighting to stay open as the pleasure washes through your body.

you're panting, chanting for him to keep going, so of course, he slows down. fingers reaching deep inside of you at a much slower pace. he's finding the rough patch of skin deep inside of you, teasing it at first before full-on pressing his fingers into it. you're not truly falling apart until his fingers are reaching down to tug on your clit, in rhythm with the way he presses into your gspot.

“already?” he teases, feeling the way your walls tighten around your fingers. smiling smugly but feigning confusion as if he's not speed rolling you to the edge. “let me have a kiss, baby.” he requests and even though your brain is basically mush, you're able to pull it together enough to press your lips against his.

he licks into your mouth, sucks on your lips, swallows every last one of your whiny moans up until you're pulling back to let out a scream. fingers sped up enough to cause a ripple in your thighs and you feel the snap throughout your entire body. incoherent sentences falling from your lips as your body moves in tandem with his fingers.

although his pace gradually comes to a stop, he's not pulling his fingers out until your whines have turned to soft sighs. head heavy with no choice but to lay it on his shoulder, eyes hooded and a dopey smile on your face. hoseok is craning his neck to get a good look at your face, a grin lighting up his features. “feel good?”

you're not sure you remember how to talk, so you're simply nodding your head. a sleepy giggle leaving your lips as you move your face further into your neck. he says something else, but you can't place what it is or what it means – sleeping taking over your body.

#groupie love sm au #hoseok #jung hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok imagine #hoseok drabble #hoseok sm au #hoseok fic

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ectoentity · 3 years ago

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Warped Mirror

Decided to write something based vaguely on the “Spork AU” idea. Instead of Episode 1 Danny meeting Episode 50+ Danny, though, I was curious about a Danny who never became Phantom meeting one who had. This first part is just establishing Human!Danny’s world.

I’ll post it to AO3 when I have the rest of it finished.

---

Three kids stood before a giant machine in the shape of a door. It should have been humming along and glowing green, with a great hole to another world in the middle. Instead, it was cold and silent.

“They spent years working on it,” Danny explained, “and then nothing. Mom and Dad have been moping in their room all day.”

Tucker looked around at the portal and the hodgepodge of computer parts attached to it. “It’s probably a loose wire somewhere. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“In the meantime, this would make for an awesome picture,” Sam said with a smile. She held up her polaroid camera.

“Oh no, you’re not getting me anywhere near that,” Tucker immediately walked away from the portal.

“Come on! When they get this thing working we’ll never be allowed near it. Besides, it’s not like it’s going to do anything right now.”

“Then why don’t you get over there and let one of us take the picture?” Tucker asked.

“Because neither of you know anything about lighting or framing a shot. Please?” When she saw that Tucker was not going to budge, she looked over at Danny with wide, pleading eyes.

He looked anxiously at the portal. So far none of his parents’ inventions had really worked, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous. Still, Sam was right. It was pretty cool, and getting a picture with the thing could be a good way to keep a memory.

“Yeah, okay, let me put on a jumpsuit in case there’s a live wire or something.”

Ten minutes later he was suited up in the white-and-black safety jumpsuit his parents had made for him. It wasn’t really a hazardous materials outfit - there was no full hood or respirator, or even goggles. It was made of something that was supposed to repel ectoplasm and certain chemicals that his parents used and was insulated against minor shocks, so it would have to do.

“Oh, no no. I’m not taking your picture while you’re wearing that,” Sam announced. Danny was about to argue, but she reached over and pulled the sticker of his dad’s face off of the suit. “Now you’re good.”

Danny laughed. “Good thinking, Sam. Wouldn’t want to be immortalized in your photos with that on me.” He walked up to the portal. It was a massive piece of machinery, nearly six feet in diameter and deep enough to fit a car. He paused at the entrance. It was hard to imagine it as anything other than a creepy machine in the basement. If it had worked, it would have opened into a whole other world.

Tucker, meanwhile, was watching while anxiously tapping a foot. He had expected Danny to give in to Sam’s pleas. He was so predictable and utterly clueless. One of these days they would both realize that they were both desperately crushing on each other and they’d-

There was something plugged into the wall. Tucker wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a bad feeling about it.

“Hold up!” he shouted. Tucker went over and unplugged the cord from the wall outlet, and checked around for more outlets just in case. When he didn’t find anything else, he called back, “Okay, I think it’s alright now.”

“Good thinking, Tuck,” Danny’s voice echoed in the portal. “Hey, Sam, is this good?”

Sam set up her shot. “Looks great! Just hold there a second.” She counted down before the flash went off. The camera whirred and produced a polaroid. “Lemme take a couple more,” she said before swiftly doing so from slightly different angles. “That should be good!”

Danny started to walk out of the portal. Something caught his foot. He tripped and fell backwards, flailing his arms wildly in hopes that he would catch something. His right hand hit the side of the portal. It stabilized him for a second, but then the wall clicked. Danny stared down at his hand, a chill lancing up his spine. He hadn’t hit the wall. His hand was resting on a button marked “ON.”

“Oh my god,” he blurted.

“Danny? Are you okay?” Sam called. He could hear them both scrambling toward the portal.

“I’m good! I just tripped!” Danny got out of the portal as fast as he could. “My parents put the on/off buttons on the inside! If Tucker hadn’t unplugged it…” All three teens stared at the portal. Danny could have died, just for tripping over a stupid wire.

Finally Tucker gulped and broke the silence. “Want to see if your parents can get it to work now?”

Danny shook himself out of it. “Yeah! I’ll go ask if they forgot about that.”

They all but ran out of the lab.

---

The Fenton RV sped down the street, ghost alarms blaring. In the back, Danny got his weapons together as quickly as he could with all the jostling and swerving. They’d let Dad drive; time was of the essence.

“A level six!” Jack crowed from the driver’s seat. “Maybe even a seven! How long’s it been since we saw one like that?”

“About four months,” Danny grumbled. He still vividly remembered when the town had been drawn into the Ghost Zone and besieged with an army of skeleton constructs. He was not looking forward to a repeat of that hell. The Fenton Blaster in his hands whined as he attached the power source.

“We’ll have to be careful, Jack,” Mom cautioned as she always did. “We don’t have the Ecto-Skeleton this time.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call in the Guys in White?” Danny asked. They might not be the best ghost hunters, but they did have a lot more firepower.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Danny! I’m sure we can take care of this before they even notice something’s happening. Besides, your mom and I are still dealing with the paperwork from the last time they showed up.”

Danny shuddered. He was extremely glad that he didn’t have to deal with that aspect of ghost hunting.

His dad pulled up to the mall with a loud honk of the horn and squealing tires. Danny and his mom ran out, blasters held at the ready. Dad backed them up with one of the Fenton Bazookas.

The mall was already evacuated. Some people milled around outside, anxiously talking amongst themselves. In the year and a half since the ghosts had started attacking the town, people had gotten frustratingly complacent about them. The invasion a few months back had shown most people just how dangerous they could be, but a stubborn few always were more concerned with getting good pictures than their own safety.

“Make way!” Mom shouted. “We’re here to take care of the ghost!” The crowd at least did part for them. A few people shouted at them. Some of it was words of support. A few tried to describe what they had seen - it was green, it was wearing all white, it was terrifying. Only a few made jokes or jeered at the Fentons as they passed. That was annoying, but it was a hell of a lot better than it had been a year ago.

The deserted mall was an eerie sight. Everyone had left in a hurry, leaving lights on and store music still echoing through empty halls. The Fentons’ footsteps seemed far too loud. The weirdest part was that everything seemed intact. When the technology ghost raided the mall he usually left trails of rubble and discarded packaging everywhere. The box ghost would leave piles of everything that he dumped out of his beloved boxes. Various other ghosts had attacked the mall in the past, and they almost always left signs of their passing. Why was this one different?

“Come out, ghost!” Dad shouted, his voice easily carrying through the empty mall. “Let’s make this quick!”

“Curious.” The voice was quiet, but had the same unnatural echo of all ghosts. Danny held up his blaster, but he couldn’t tell where the voice had come from. Beside him, his mom turned on her miniature Fenton Finder. It beeped alarmingly quickly.

“Two o’clock!” Mom shouted as she fired. Danny was only a moment slower, trying to fire a little ahead. The blasts didn’t connect with anything.

“I mean no harm,” the ghost said. Its voice was way too close for comfort. Danny turned to his right and shot where he thought it was, but he still missed.

“What do you want?” Danny asked. He didn’t really care. No matter what their obsessions were, ghosts only ever wanted to spread chaos and pain. Still, sometimes he could distract them by talking back.

The ghost appeared in front of them. It was tall, with dark, green-tinged skin and a lighter beard. Its eyes glowed a soft yellow. A white robe and hood covered most of its body, rippling in a nonexistent breeze.

A green beam from the Fenton Bazooka blasted towards the ghost. Its torso split apart to allow the beam to go through it. Danny grimaced. It was so gross when they did that. He followed his dad’s lead and started shooting the ghost. The ghost blocked all of his and Mom’s shots with a series of small green shields.

“This is entirely unnecessary,” the ghost huffed. It had the audacity to look bored.

“Then why not just go back to the Ghost Zone and leave us alone?” Danny shouted, annoyed. He ran off to the side, flanking the ghost. It finally started dodging the ectoblasts. If anything, though, the ghost just looked amused.

“Oh, I shall. First, though…” The ghost flung its hand out towards Danny. He winced, anticipating the burn of ectoblasts. He took a step back and his foot sank. With a shout, he fell into the glowing green portal that had opened right behind him.

#Warped Mirror #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfic #my writing

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

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Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 9

Fun fact: when I was like eight I got an ultrasound done on my chest because of some non-descript heart anomaly. Got to miss a day of school and everything.

Anyway, on the day of cult girl’s twenty week anatomy scan, Hannibal has second thoughts about putting the baby up for adoption.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: pregnancy and lactation, medical examination

It was a small victory, but a much-needed one.

You kept in close touch with Max and Archie over the next few, crucial weeks. Before you knew it, your first trimester ended. You tried your best to push all worries about your rapidly changing body aside, in favor of your studies. To a point, it worked. You cranked out a few research papers and kept up on your reading, but not as efficiently as you may have wanted. Your body was operating at 100% all the time and you felt like an overheated laptop with the fan running at top speed.

The morning of your twenty-week checkup arrived far quicker than you hoped. You were noticeably pregnant, having put on a good ten extra pounds to support your passenger.

Your phone alarm sounded, telling you to greet the day. You'd been in and out of an uncomfortable state of half-consciousness all night.

"Good morning, my goddess." Hannibal cooed in his admittedly very sexy morning voice. He turned on his side and faced you.

Seeing him with bedhead was definitely the best part of waking up. But the delight quickly faded when you tried to turn on your side and realized you couldn't. You plopped back onto your back, seriously considering if any amount of money was worth this.

"Don't patronize me." You pouted, folding your arms.

"Patronize you?" He chuckled, pulling you into him. "Now why on earth would I do that?"

He cupped your head in his hand and stroked your cheek. "The most divine woman in the world is carrying my baby."

Before you could say anything, he brought his lips to yours. His other hand ran down your body, tracing the outline of your firm, round belly.

"And what an honor-" He whispered, weaving his fingers through your hair. "To have Venus herself descend from Olympia to carry my child."

You didn't want to unpack what he was saying. All you knew was you liked it. Your aches seemed to melt away under his touch and your worries dissipated with every word.

"My breasts are so swollen and heavy." You complained. "And they ache so much."

"Is that so?" Hannibal smiled hungrily and propped himself up on his elbows above you. "Well, what is to be done about that, Mrs. Lecter?"

You unbuttoned your pajama shirt, revealing your significantly larger breasts. You blushed and instinctively covered yourself.

Hannibal chuckled and effortlessly pulled your hands off your chest. He lowered his face to where your neck meets your shoulder and took a deep breath in. A pair of warm, gentle hands cupped your breasts.

"You're starting to produce." He observed, a little smile creeping on his face.

Before you could really register what he meant by that, his thumb began to stimulate your swollen nipple. A small drop of milk leaked out, dampening his finger. All you could do was turn red and whimper in embarrassment.

He brought his finger to his lips and tasted it.

"It's a bit thin, but my goodness, it's sweet." He said, as nonchalantly as if he were sampling ice cream.

"Only the best for our baby." You said.

That caught him off guard in the best way. Whether you were playing along or feeling genuinely maternal, he didn't care. He wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to gratify his crippling desire to feel like a father.

"Fuck, [F/N]." He cursed, looking at your protruding belly with awe. Not awe, but worship.

He cleared his throat, chasing away any strong emotions he may have let reveal themselves. "Never mind. Let's get ready to go to the doctor."

You swung your legs over the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing, my darling." Hannibal said, lying professionally. "Everything is wonderful."

You push yourself to your feet and follow him into the bathroom. "Hannibal, please."

He turned around and leaned against the sink. "It's nothing that concerns you, love. Don't worry about it."

You folded your arms. "You don’t need to be a doctoral candidate to recognize deflection."

"So you don't." Hannibal said. "Darling, please understand that I have your best interests at heart. Even if it is at the expense of my desires."

"I see what this is." You nodded. "You want to keep the baby, don't you?"

"I didn't know how much I wanted a child until now." He admitted.

"But you know the emotional and physical toll it'll take on me." You finished.

"I don't know, actually." He corrected, face contorting with frustration. "Thus the basis of my hesitation. There are so many facets of life that can be molded to one's liking, but parenting-"

"I get it." You sighed. "So many things could go wrong, or right, and either way it would throw me off track."

"If I could relieve you of all of the burden of parenting this child, allowing you to step away and finish your schooling unfettered with domestic duties, I would." He said. "But if we're being honest, it's not like you would let me."

"Ruth Bader Ginsburg studied law at Harvard while taking care of a baby." You offered. "And her sick husband."

"I have no doubts in my mind that it is possible, nor that you're capable, darling." He assured you. "But I would never forgive myself if I let you burn yourself out before you even get a chance to take off."

"Okay, look." You took a deep breath. "Let's see what the obstetrician says, assess the risks, weigh the pros and cons and talk to Max and Archie. We will figure this out."

You were counting on the assumption that going for your twenty-week checkup would scare you out of any desires to keep the baby. They often did. The more time you spent with an ultrasound wand in your vagina, the more you became convinced that you'd become implanted with an alien parasite determined to destroy you from the inside.

"Good morning, Dr. And Mrs. Lecter." The obstetrician greeted you as she always did. You hadn't bothered to correct her to save yourself an awkward conversation. "Here for our twenty-week ultrasound, are we?"

"No, I'm here for the taco truck in the parking lot." You said, half-jokingly. The other half was thinking about tacos. "I just thought I'd lay down on this surgical table for fun."

"Good to see you're still hanging on to your sense of humor, [F/N]." She smirked. "Should we take a look under the hood?"

You fought the overwhelming urge to smack your belly like a car salesmen and say "this bad boy can fit so many fetuses in it". But given that there was only one fetus, that would be inaccurate.

The doctor emptied a tube of extra-freezing gel onto your stomach and readied the ultrasound wand. "Have you been feeling any kicks, Mrs. Lecter?"

You shrugged. "Maybe? I wouldn't know what that would feel like so I don't know."

She smiled warmly. "Trust me, you'll know. But don't worry about it. First pregnancies tend to take their time. When you have your next children, it will happen much faster."

"I think you mean," Hannibal said, voice hardening. "If she decides to have more children. Let's not be presumptuous."

The doctor noticed her mistake. "My apologies, Mrs. Lecter. I didn't mean to assume."

You kept your eyes on Hannibal, too afraid to look at the screen as the doctor searched around for a clear image.

“Oh my goodness, here it is!” She exclaimed with an ear-to-ear grin.

It took you a minute to make out exactly what she was pointing to. It looked more like a fucked-up Rorschach test than anything resembling a person. You didn't want to say it out loud, but she sensed your confusion.

"This big round part is the head." She said, pointing to the opposite end of the screen. "There's its spine, and there are its little hands and feet."

It hit you all at once. There was a person growing inside of you. And it had limbs, bones and a brain. You finally had the answer to the question "how did something come from nothing". It was right there in front of you.

"Wow." You said, dumbfounded. "My body made that?"

"Amazing, isn't it?" The doctor smiled, clearly still as enamored with her job as she was on day one.

"And it made that without my brain even thinking about it." You continued, trying not to go into a ramble. "That's actually pretty insane."

"I told you that you're a goddess." Hannibal whispered into your ear. "My divine feminine."

"Would you like to know the sex?" She asked.

“Sure.” You said, without really thinking about it. You looked back at Hannibal, who seemed pretty indifferent too.

“Congratulations, you’re having a girl.”

#hannibal x reader #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x reader #pregnancy #domestic fluff #lactation #body worship #cult girl #cult girl 2 #cult girl doctorate #more cult girl

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triptuckers · 3 years ago

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Two Homes (part 6/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: no Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: you’re finally back in ketterdam Warnings: language Word count: 3.8K A/N: I literally love the crows so much they’re my comfort idiots <3 PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) add yourself to my tag lists here

The cold wind on your face feels welcoming. You can smell the salt and there’s water all around you. You’d made the journey across the True Sea before, but it felt like a lifetime go.

Maybe because it was a lifetime ago.

You look down at the golden ring on your finger. It feels heavier than it used to. As if you’re suddenly aware of its presence.

When you first sailed across the sea, you were Y/F/N Y/L/N. A merchant’s daughter who had joined a gang in secret. You had learned how to fight, to steal, and a number of other illegal but useful things. You had earned your place among the Crows, joining them on jobs and secretly stealing small bits of your father’s fortune job by job.

And now you’re on a ship again, as Y/F/N Lantsov. A queen, of all things. Of a country you barely know. Married to a king you met less than a year ago.

Of course, you hadn’t given the captain of the ship you’re on your real name. You’d used a name Kaz had given you once as an alias for a job. Luckily, the captain didn’t ask much questions.

You look out at the sea again. Would the Crows treat you differently now? You wanted to believe you hadn’t changed. But everything had changed. Your entire life. Still, you loved the Crows like they’re your family, and they loved you back. But you couldn’t help but wonder if they would love Y/F/N Lantsov as they loved Y/F/N Y/L/N.

You’re lost in thought, unaware of the people walking around the ship behind you. It isn’t until you hear a loud voice, you look up.

Someone is standing at the front of the ship, pointing ahead. He shouted something in a language you didn’t know. When everyone moved to see what he was pointing at, you followed them as well.

After making your way to the front, you see what he was pointing at. In the distance, barely visible on the horizon, you can see land. A city. Your beloved Ketterdam.

You’re home.

You feel like it takes forever to dock and be able to get off the ship. After pulling your hood over your face to hide your identity, you finally set foot in the city again.

Nothing’s changed. You see people moving swiftly between the people who just got off the ship. As a member of the Dregs, you know they’re pickpocketing. How many hours had you spent on the docks yourself, under Kaz’ watchful eye as he taught you.

And now, you realise you’re among their targets. You grin as you start to manoeuvre through the crowd. You know the weak and strong points, and where it was most likely to find a gang member.

Because this part of the docks belonged to the Dregs, you make sure to give them all the signs you have money on you. You keep patting your pocket. To them, it would look like you were merely checking if your money was still there. But you know for a fact your money isn’t in that pocket, and you’re simply luring them to you.

You know how to pick pockets, so you know how it feels. You walk through the crowd, fixated on your coat pocket. When you feel something brush against it, you grab the wrist of the person who walked past you, pulling them back.

The person lets out an annoyed sound and tries to pull their wrist out of your hand, but you hold a firm grip.

‘You’re still bad a this.’ you say. ‘You should let Jesper do it instead.’

You smile and let go of the wrist. When you look up, you meet Nina’s widened eyes. Your hood is still covering most part of your face, but you know she recognised your voice in an instant.

She opens her mouth to say your name, but you stop her.

‘Not here.’ you say, grabbing her hand and leading her away from the crowd. You’re impressed by her patience. But once you’re away from the crowd and in a deserted alley, she fires questions at you.

‘Y/N, it’s so good to see you!’ says Nina. ‘How are you? How is Ravka? Why did you come back to Ketterdam? Oh, tell me you pissed Zoya off in some way, I would have loved to see the look on her face.’

You chuckle at her rapid questions and hold up your hands. ‘Slow down, Nina, remember to breathe in between questions.’ you say, smiling at her.

‘I’m just so glad to see you.’ says Nina.

She reaches out to you and pulls you in a tight hug. You hug her back and inhale the scent of her signature perfume. When Nina pulls back she looks at your face and smiles.

‘Bags under your eyes, but still as gorgeous as ever.’ says Nina, winking at you.

‘Not as gorgeous as you, though.’ you say and Nina laughs.

‘You worked on your flirty comebacks!’ she says.

You smile briefly. ‘That’s what you get when you spend so much time with Nikolai.’ you say.

‘Of course!’ says Nina. ‘How is he? Why isn’t he here?’

‘I chose to come alone.’ you say. ‘I got homesick.’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re here, we have a lot to catch up on. Matthias finally took the next step.’ says Nina, smirking.

Your eyes widen. ‘He did what?’ you say. Before you left, you were Nina’s favorite person to talk to about Matthias. Whenever he said or did something, you were the first one to know. Nina told you she was hinting for Matthias to kiss her, but he remained oblivious as ever. Looks like he finally managed to figure out all of her hints.

‘Later!’ says Nina. ‘Let’s get you to the Crow Club first, I don’t want them thinking I’m keeping you all to yourself.’

Nina links her arm through yours and together, you start walking toward the club. You look at the familiar streets and shops, constantly smiling. You were finally back in Ketterdam. You’d missed it so much, it felt good to be back.

While it’s in the middle of the day, the Crow Club is busy. It always is. As you walk to your usual table with Nina, you spot three familiar faces. Inej is the first to see you.

When she does, she leaps to her feet and runs over to hug you. Her hair tickles your cheek as she hugs you. Like Nina, she immediately starts interrogating you about your time in Ravka.

After promising her you’d tell her everything, you walk the last bit to the table, where Wylan and Matthias are sitting.

Wylan smiles brightly at you and stands up to hug you as well. He’s happy to see you as well but unlike Nina and Inej, he doesn’t ask all about Ravka. Instead, he asks you how you’re doing and how your journey was.

You smile at him and tell him you’re fine, that the journey went well. Sometimes you still wondered why the always energetic Jesper had been able to find his match in Wylan, someone who you’d always considered so calm and quiet.

Matthias holds out his hand for you to shake, before Nina pulls him to his feet and basically pushes him into your arms. You laugh at his bewildered face as you hug Matthias as well.

Meanwhile, Inej had ordered a round of everyone’s favorite drink, and you all sit down. As expected, they all start to ask you all sorts of questions. About Ravka, the palace, the wedding, what it’s like being queen, and of course, Nikolai.

You tell them you refuse to answer their questions until Jesper and Kaz are here, so you can tell them all at once. Wylan had told you they were away on a job. To kill the time, you asked them what had happened in Ketterdam while you were away.

Apparently, a lot.

‘I got shot.’ says Inej.

‘Twice.’ says Wylan, taking a sip of his drink and turning back to you. ‘And Jesper almost dropped me off a building.’

‘Come again?’ you say.

‘We were on a roof during a job, Jesper wasn’t paying attention and nearly knocked me off of it.’ says Wylan, not a single hint of fear in his voice. He had changed so much since you first met him. Maybe that’s what Ketterdam does to you, it hardens you, forces you to grow up.

‘I got in a fight with the Stadwatch.’ says Matthias.

‘And I had to bail you out of a holding cell.’ says Nina.

‘Only because someone knocked me out from behind. It wasn’t a fair fight.’ says Matthias.

Nina turns to you. ‘Heleen wanted for Inej and me to come back to the Menagerie.’ she says.

‘You’re kidding, right?’ you say. ‘You’re telling me she had the fucking guts to ask you that?’

‘Well, it was more like sending one of her new guys to deliver the message. Kaz sent him back with five fingers instead of ten, and without a tongue. I think she got her answer.’ says Nina.

‘Sounds like something Kaz would do.’ you say. ‘What else did I miss?’

‘Jesper almost let Wylan shoot with his guns.’ says Inej.

You raise your eyebrows at Wylan. ‘Jesper allowed you to touch his precious revolvers?’ you say.

‘Almost.’ says Wylan, correcting you. ‘He changed his mind right before handing me one.’

You’re enjoying their company. You laugh and catch up on what’s happening in Ketterdam, buying rounds for the table. Every now and then they ask you something about Ravka, but you still refuse to tell them anything until all of the Crows are present.

Several drinks and card games later, the club slowly begins to empty. Just as Wylan beats you in a game of card, his eye catches someone behind you and he waves at them.

Before you can turn around, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, and a chin on top of your head.

‘There’s only one person who always sits in this spot.’

You smile and turn around. Towering over you, and with a huge grin on his face, Jesper is standing behind you. Your expression mirrors his as you stand up. Jesper wraps you in a bone-crushing hug. You close your eyes, grateful for his embrace.

When you let go of him, you smile up at him, then your eyes catch the person who had been standing behind Jesper.

‘Hi Kaz.’ you say.

Kaz nods at you and you’re convinced you can spot the smallest smile on his lips. Barely visible, but still there.

Wylan pulls two more chairs from the empty table next to yours, and Jesper and Kaz sit down.

‘So.’ says Jesper as Wylan hands him his drink. ‘What did we miss? How much have you all heard about a certain king?’

‘Nothing.’ says Nina. ‘Y/N didn’t tell us anything. She wanted to wait until you two got here a well.’

Jesper turns to you and winks. ‘Here I am. I’m all ears, darling.’ he says.

You take a breath and finish your drink. ‘Alright.’ you say. ‘What do you want to know?’

Everything, it seemed. They asked you about life at the palace, about your daily routines, if there really was a buffet every day, and if it was as big as the stories described. And they wanted to know all about Nikolai. What he’s like, if he’s a good king, what it was like to be married to him.

You told them life at the palace couldn’t be more different from the life in Ketterdam. You told them about the gardens, the meetings which were boring almost all of the time, the triumvirate. You told them Nikolai is very sweet, handsome, and a great king.

The rest of the night is spent talking, laughing, playing games and ordering more drinks. You’re exhausted but grateful to be back as you lay down in your old bed. Just before you fall asleep, you realise just how happy you are to be back.

It’s easy to fall back into your old routines when you walk down the stairs to the kitchen. Wylan and Inej are already there, along with a plate of steaming hot pancakes.

You’re grateful to be back, and eager to accompany them on jobs again. Still hiding your face and true identity. Last time you were in Ketterdam, you worried about your father finding out you were a member of the Dregs. Now you had to hide the fact the queen of Ravka is running along with gang members. Needless to say, you were slightly more nervous about someone recognising you.

But when you joined Jesper, Wylan and Nina on a job later that day, their presence was enough to soothe your nervousness.

Everything felt right. Though you had been away for almost a year, it was like you never left. The way you knew what to do without them having to tell you was comfortable. Everything was all right. You couldn’t believe you were finally back in Ketterdam.

You had missed life in Ketterdam and your crows very much. And you were thankful to see they didn’t treat you any differently. On your first night back, your life in Ravka had been the number one topic, but now you felt like Y/F/N Y/L/N again.

You joined them on jobs, played card games, chatted with Nina and Inej over drinks. It felt good to be home.

But a little over a week after you arrived in Ketterdam, you start to feel down. You didn’t know why. You’re finally back home, just like you wanted. You should be happy, grateful, not miserable.

You’re sitting at a table by yourself, silently drinking your favorite drink, when suddenly Kaz joins you.

It was unusual for Kaz to join anyone for drinks. Mostly he was upstairs in his office, doing whatever the hell he did up there. Looking for new jobs maybe, or making sure the younger Dregs didn’t do anything stupid.

When he would join you and the others for drinks, it was mostly because you all had begged him to come along. Kaz wasn’t one to join someone for a drink out of nowhere.

Nevertheless, you were happy he decided to join you.

‘How are you liking Ketterdam?’ he asks.

‘It’s good to be home.’ you say, smiling at him.

You watch as Kaz studies your face. You know there’s something on his mind, and you’re waiting for him to speak up as you nurse your drink.

‘Something has made you upset.’ says Kaz.

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement. You look at him in silence for a while. You tried lying to Kaz once, and he could tell immediately. You figured it was some sort of hidden talent of his. No one could lie to him and get away with it.

You look at your hands, to avoid his eyes.

‘Why didn’t you come to my wedding?’ you say.

‘We didn’t want to risk it.’ says Kaz. ‘Traveling abroad would have ended in our capture. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to marry king Nikolai.’

‘I didn’t.’ you say. ‘Not at first. But once I got to know him, well, it all changed. He’s actually a really great guy.’

You finally look up at Kaz. You finish your drink and signal to the bartender for another one. Again, Kaz is studying your face. You wish he’d look away, you always felt like he could see right through you.

‘There’s something else.’ he says.

You frown. ‘No.’ you say, truthfully. There was nothing else to mention.

‘Come on, spit it out.’ he says.

‘There’s nothing to spit out?’ you say, confused.

‘You’re not yourself. Not like I remember, at least. You said you’d be happier once you got back to Ketterdam. Well, you’re here now. You were happy last week, when you arrived. I have yet to see you genuinely smile, aside from the night you got back.’ says Kaz.

Why did he always have to be right? It was starting to get annoying. Kaz would tell you the truth, even if you didn’t want to hear it.

‘I thought I’d be happy to be home.’ you admit softly, avoiding his eyes again. ‘I’m not. And I don’t know why. I’m finally home, like I wanted, but it doesn’t feel like it.’

‘Y/N, look at me.’ says Kaz.

You keep looking at the table. The bartender sets down your new drink in front of you and you briefly look up at them to thank them. Still, you don’t look at Kaz. As you reach to grab your drink, Kaz’ cane lands on the table hard. Shocked and a bit offended, you look up at him.

‘Listen to me.’ says Kaz. ‘You can have two homes, Y/N. You came back to Ketterdam because you miss us. But you haven’t taken your ring off. Despite leaving the palace, yous till use Lantsov as your last name, aside from when you had to travel across the True Sea. Go back to the palace. Tell that king of yours that you love him. And come visit us during the summer.’

You look at Kaz, letting his words sink in. Two homes. Os Alta and Ketterdam. It could work. You’d spend your days with Nikolai, and spend the summer in Ketterdam.

Suddenly, you think back to your goodbye with Nikolai before you had left for Ketterdam. It wasn’t a proper goodbye, because you couldn’t wait to go to Ketterdam. He deserved more.

Maybe Kaz is right. Maybe you could have two homes.

Kaz had been looking at you as you went over it all in your head.

‘Two homes.’ you mutter softly.

You quickly finish your drink and get up. ‘I have to go.’ you say.

Despite it being late at night, you head up the stairs of the Slat and to knock on everyone’s door. You knew they’d be alarmed if you wake them, because there was an unwritten rule that you didn’t wake someone up in the middle of the night, unless something very bad was going on.

When you knock on Jesper’s door, Wylan is the one who opens it. There’s still light in the room and there’s a pencil in his hand. He must have been working on some sketches for a new project. When you glance over his shoulder you see Jesper sprawled out on the bad, fast asleep.

‘Is everything alright?’ says Wylan.

‘Yes, it’s fine, I just came to say goodbye.’ you say.

Wylan frowns, then smiles. ‘You’re going back to Ravka.’ he says.

You nod. ‘I need to see Nikolai.’ you say. ‘Can I say goodbye to Jesper real quick?’

Wylan steps aside so you can enter the room. You walk over to the bed, kneel beside it and shake Jesper’s shoulders. He wakes with a string of words you can’t quite understand.

‘Jes.’ you say softly. ‘It’s me, Y/N, I'm here to say goodbye. I’m going back to Ravka.’

He mumbles a “good for you, have fun” before falling back asleep.

You smile at move to rise to your feet again. You hug Wylan and after another goodbye, you leave their room, walking the stairs to the next floor.

Inej walks out of her room, holding a bunch of dirty dishes in her hands. She must have been on her way downstairs to put them away.

‘Hey.’ she says. ‘What are you still doing up?’

‘Saying goodbye.’ you say. ‘I’m going back to the palace.’

Like Wylan, Inej smiles. ‘Tell the king I said hi.’ she says.

‘I will.’ you say. ‘Goodbye Inej, I’ll be back for a visit soon.’

You walk to the next floor and knock on Nina’s door. It takes her a while to open the door, but you knew she would. When she does open the door, her hair is messy, she was clearly fast asleep just like Jesper.

‘What happened?’ says Nina, voice thick of sleepiness. ‘Who’s in trouble?’

‘No one’s in trouble.’ you say. ‘I’m here to say goodbye. I’m going back to Nikolai.’

‘You’re leaving again?’ says Nina. ‘But you just got here.’

‘I’ll be back for a visit in summer.’ you say. ‘In fact, I’m going to visit every summer. But right now I need to go back.’

‘To Nikolai.’ says Nina.

‘Yes.’ you say.

‘Give him a kiss from me.’ she says.

‘Nina!’ you say, making her laugh.

‘I’m kidding!’ she says. ‘How about give him a hug from me?’

You nod and Nina pulls you in her arms. You close your eyes, trying to capture the moment. You were going to miss them. But you’d be back in summer. When Nina lets go of you, she smiles brightly.

‘Wait here, you can say goodbye to Matthias too.’ she says.

She enters the room and seconds later she reappears, with Matthias behind her. Just like Nina, he looks like he just woke up. He’s squinting his eyes as he looks down at you.

‘You’re leaving?’ he says.

‘For a while.’ you say. ‘I’ll be back in summer.’

‘Alright.’ says Matthias.

Unlike the night when you arrived in Ketterdam, Nina doesn’t have to shove him into your arms. Matthias steps forward and pulls you in for a hug.

‘Take care.’ he says as he pulls away.

Nina moves past Matthias and pulls you in for another hug.

‘That first one was for Nikolai, this one’s for you.’ she whispers.

You blink furiously to stop the tears from falling. Saints, you really were going to miss them. But there was no need for tears, you’d see them again in summer. You smile at her as she pulls away.

‘I’m going to miss you.’ you say. ‘All of you.’

‘You’ll see us again.’ says Nina. ‘Now go! You’ve kept him waiting for long enough.’

You walk down the stairs, and grab your coat when you get to the bottom of the stairs. You poke your head around the door and see Kaz is still sitting in the same spot.

‘Bye, Kaz!’ you say and you wave at him.

He nods at you and briefly smiles. And then you’re out the door.

You don’t even know if there would be a ship at the docks that would sail to Ravka. But you’re still determined to head to Ravka as fast as you could. You walk down the streets toward the docks.

You were going back to Ravka, to your king.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #Nikolai Lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfics #Nikolai Lantsov fic #Nikolai Lantsov fics #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fics #two homes series

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a-purple-lizard · 4 years ago

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Assassinating Death (Part 1)

Noob Saibot X female slave reader

I’m debating wether so make a 10-15 chapter long fanfiction about this. If anybody would like to see a fanficion with this concept, please tell me!

Noob Saibot, the ruler of destiny rules all of existence, turning the worthy into revenant warriors and enslaving the weak. S/o is one of the ‘weak’ that he enslaved. Determined to put a stop to the cruel tyrant, s/o devises a plan to kill him. After all, why would a god suspect a pitiful slave of treason? (GIF by me! Taken from the MK11 arcade ending)

The rattle of her own chains was all s/o could hear inside the hollow castle walls. The air tasted of ash and death, as it always had. The woman was hastily scrubbing the stone floor, the rough sound falling on deaf ears as s/o remained focused on the man behind her. A tall soulless husk that watched her intently, looking for some opportunity to punish her.

S/o wouldn’t allow it. Not again. She already had exactly thirty two scars on her back from her punishment. The slave attire forced all to wear open back leather tops as a way to easily punish slaves as well as provide warning to others. Her hair was clipped so that it did not go past her neck, leaving her scars for the world to see.

A stone collar was wrapped around her throat, a purple stone in the center of it marked her as an obsidian place slave. Cold metal chains connected her hands, allowing them only about a foot of distance apart.

The obsidian palace was a jagged spire that towered over the smoke clouds. Nobody really knew how far up it went. Well, nobody but noob saibot, keeper of time, ruler of existence and bringer of death. He was the cruel shadow whose fowl touch defiled the world, turning it grey and dead.

It was he who controlled the immortal servants, or “blank souls” as the slaves called them. Blank souls were husk, vessels that carried out the dark lords will. They were each hand chosen by the lord at seemingly random. Nobody was really sure WHY he chose who he chose, but he was always very sure about his choices.

One thing was sure however, once you were chosen, there was no argument or revolt. Your soul belonged to HIM. When somebody was chosen, they disappeared for MONTHES and when they returned, they weren’t the same. Milky eyes, pale skin, no emotional connection to their friends and family.

“You! Girl! Come with me.” A cold voice came from behind her.

Turning around, she was met with a blank soul. He wore red and yellow robes, silver armor plated his legs and arms. A black hood shrouded his upper face, his dead milky eyes seemed to glow in the shadows. An armored mask hid whatever expression he had to offer.

S/o bowed her head, as everyone had to do when a blank soul addressed them. She didn’t waste a second, abandoning her cleaning supplies and wordlessy following the blank soul out of the room, leaving behind the other blank soul who just stood there, waiting for the next slave shift to start.

The slave was led down the hall to the center staircase that traveled from the dungeons below, all the way up to the tip of the tower, the throne room.

S/o had never been past the thirty fourth floor in the hundred story tower. Only blank souls were permitted to travel to the top ten floors. A few slaves were permitted to cleanse the rooms in the top ten floors, but the ones who did never returned. Most assumed that the ruler of time forced them to live up there as well.

Cold obsidian tile made her bare feet ache as they climbed the stairs upwards. S/o didn’t dare gaze at the man beside her. His footsteps were silent, undetectable to the ear as he went.

After about twenty minutes of climbing, the blank soul halted. The symbols carved into a metal plate showed the number ninety nine. “Bow when your god addresses you. To disrespect noob saibot is to willingly submit yourself to the worst punishment imaginable.”

S/o nodded her head in the most boot licking of ways. The blank soul observed her for a second before starting to walk up the stairs again. There it was, floor one hundred.

The icy fear that repeatedly stabbed her with each rapid heartbeat was almost debilitating as she stepped into the open space.

It was a plain room, pillars only decorated with the symbol of the shadow empire, and a single long rug running from the stairs to the… throne.

Dark jagged crystals spurred upwards in such unnatural ways, at the end of the highest tip lay a skull with a single thick strip of gold plating at the top. Sitting on the throne was him.

The god of all. Killer of all. Noob Saibot, ruler of the shadow empire. S/o threw herself to her knees as the blank soul led her to the shadow shrouded emperor. “Slave.” His voice shook her to her very core. “Did it offer any resistance during retrieval, Hanzo?”

“None at all. She is ready to fulfill her duties.” The blank soul, ‘Hanzo’ responded. The king nodded, the light seemed to drain from the air around him. Without another word, hanzo exited the throne room, heading down a dark hallway behind the throne. S/o was now at the mercy of a tyrant god.

The atmosphere thickened, s/o felt her body shake in her submissive form. All four limbs touched the ground, her lips almost kissed the carpet below. She didn’t dare look up.

“Slave, you have been bestowed the greatest honor of personally serving me.” Something in his voice held a sort of… interest? S/o couldn’t detect any facial expressions due to his head being covered in a helmet, as well as a dark vail.

The slave couldn’t find words that she deemed usable in his presence. She was too terrified to even think. “Unless my generosity doesn’t interest you?”

The dark edge to his voice made s/o want to burst out in tears and beg for her life. “N-no! Thank you so much for even considering giving somebody such as myself any thought! I swear, I will not disappoint you, my lord!”

“I know.” He said simply. “Kuai Liang! Escort it to its new quarters and explain its new purpose to its empire.”

A figure was suddenly behind her, s/o was pulled to her feet by her elbow. She was met by a blue clad blank soul. ‘Kuai Liang’ didn’t say a word as he took hold of her chains and led her to the spiral staircase. S/o could feel the lords gaze boring into her back as she left.

Kuai Liang led her down the stairs, his rough voice echoed through the quiet environment. “You will be given your own quarters on the ninety first floor. You will wake up everyday at exactly five in the morning, you will clean floors ninety-one through ninety-five. At twelve, you will be permitted to eat.” He explained. “At one, you will resume your cleaning, the ninety sixth floor and the one hundredth floor, as well as every floor in between.”

The two of them stopped at the ninety first floor. It looked to be some sort of dining hall. Blank souls littered the area, some were eating, others simply sat around and… socialized? S/o was dumbfounded, the slaves had always assumed that blank souls were nothing but empty husks yet, here they were, laughing and joking.

She didn’t have time to gawk before she was dragged past the large dining hall to a simply lit hall. There were a multitude of doors lining it, a few were open to reveal blank souls casually in their rooms. S/o and Kuai Liang stopped at the end of the hall.

“This will be your new quarters. Inside you will find everything you will require, as well as your new uniform.” He stated, opening the door.

“A new… uniform?” She asked, confused.

“You are now a personal slave to the king and his warriors, you are expected not to look like a common rat.” He growled. “You are now held to higher standards, failure to complete your duties within the desired time range will result in your immediate termination and replacement.”

She swore she saw his face soften for only a moment when he saw the look of hopeless fear of her face. “As a personal slave you are also entitled to certain privileges. No warrior can take it upon themselves to punish you without express permission from the lord of darkness. No warrior may harass you in any way.” He continued, “after all your daily duties are done, you are free to roam the top ten floors, as long as you do not disturb any warriors.”

He gestured to her room, allowing her to slip past him to inspect it. “You are free to explore for the rest of today. Tomorrow you will be assigned a warrior to make sure that your expectations are met.” Without another word, Kuai Liang was gone.

S/o was left alone. She collapsed into the soft bed, staring up at the ceiling, debating whether to cry or smile. She had been within spitting distance of the man who she despised above all else. The man who had caused so much ruin and heartbreak. The man who she now had the opportunity to kill...

Part 2

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #noob saibot x reader #noob saibot #kitana #mk raiden #raiden #kung lao #lui kang #mk kabal #sindel #mk fujin #lord fujin #kuai liang

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

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Earth is Space Australia, “Storm.”

I think some of you requested something similar a while ago, but I could be wrong. It is a view of humanity from a different species, so I hope you all like it :)

She stared out the viewing window fixated upon the little blue planet with its swirling patterns of cloud cover. It looked peaceful from where she stood, a tranquil drop of blue against the blackness of space, but of course she knew better, this was Earth, and Earth was as volatile a planet more than any she had visited. She had been putting this off for a long time, but as the GA chairwoman, she was obligated to visit the planet of every member of the GA at some point.

She continued to watch as they moved slowly into orbit, the planet growing larger and larger before her showing off its bright brown and green landmasses squished between vast oceans of blue. She shivered thinking about all that water.

The RUndi, coming form a desert planet, had developed ways of living without water-- at least without it directly--if it came in contact with her skin it could cause burns or rashes depending on the concentration.

Admiral Vir had been polite enough to reduce the humidity on his ship, which was preferred by humans, to almost zero for her benefit, but it all scared her badly. There was water everywhere on this ship, kitchen, bathrooms, even speaking to the humans, she was looking into their saline lubricated eyes.

Boots echoed on the floor behind her, and she turned her head to find Admiral Vir stepping up beside her. He was wearing surgical gloves and a mask for her benefit, as humans also tended to shed water from their skin -- not as badly as a groom but still.

“Chairwoman, the shuttle is ready.”

She nodded nervously and followed him up and down the hall watching the human move. There were plenty of bipedal creatures in the GA, but there was something about the way humans did it that just seemed to change things. Of course she could run on two legs, but balance was easy to keep at speed, the rest of the time she used her long front arms to walk on the ground keeping contact with her knuckles They made their way into the docking bay, where a group of humans was waiting for her geared up in their face masks and gloves.

They approached her with a specially made suit.

“What is this?”

“Hazmat suit, ma’am, base says its sunny right now, but it is humid. Not enough to hurt you but the rash would be unpleasant. We advise that you wear this until we get inside.”

She nodded and did as told as Admiral Vir stood by, “We would have flown you into Alexandria but this week of all weeks it decided to rain, so we will bringing you to fort harmony where UNSC has its main headquarters.”

The plastic of the suit felt very strange on her skin as it was zipped up her front.

Admiral Vir helped her pull on a pair of gloves, and then pulled out a roll of duct tape sealing off the end of her sleeves and wrists, doing the same with her feet.

A hood was pulled up around her head, before she was provided with a face shield.

The precautions made her nervous, but she didn’t have much time to think about it as she was ushered onto the shuttle.

She was assured that Admiral vir was one of the best pilots in the galaxy, but she still held hard to her seat as they roared into the atmosphere jostling this way and that in the upper atmosphere. To be honest she did expect their descent to be more violent, and was impressed with the Admiral.

She stared out the window watching as little white clouds billowed past.

Off to their right she could see that massive body of water lapping at the shore as if trying to get in.

She shivered as the shuttle lowered slowly touching down onto a massive tarmac not far away from one of the main buildings. The sky outside was bright and not a cloud lay in sight. A group of men and women waited outside.

The door was opened for her and she was ushered outside onto a tarp which was covered by a line of canopies.

A human she recognized as the GA representative and the UN president walked up along with another human with stars on their sleeves and nodded to her one of them even bowing slightly, “A pleasure to welcome you to earth, Chairwoman.” They said as she stepped outside.

She could feel the heat through her suit, and it felt nice. She was used to the heat.

Looking around nervously, she wasn't entirely sure if she should have been worried. Other than the sky being blue and the ground being green, the planet looked completely normal and not all that malicious.

Admiral Vir stepped into stride beside her as they made their way towards one of the buildings.

They were just passing over another set of tarps about ten feet away from the green ground when there was a sharp hiss and little black spouts shot up out of the ground. She turned yelping just in time to watch as streams of water began sprouting from the nozzles.

One of the humans laughed, “Sorry Chairwoman, I should have thought to turn off the sprinkler system.”

“Sprinkler system.” “The grass needs water too.”

Swallowing hard she was led inside the building, nd through two sets of double doors. It was almost freezing cold inside and she wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably until she was led down the hallway and into another room. This room was hot and dry, and she was finally able to relax and pull of her face shield

More humans approached and nodded or bowed to her, “A pleasure, chairwoman. We are sorry you couldn’t see more of our planet, but circumstances permitting it might be best if you remain here.”

She couldn't help but agreeing.

Instead they opted for a virtual tour put together by images from their satellites and cars with cameras. On the big screen before her she was able to see towering mountains and sandy desserts-- with orange instead of blue sand which was so alien and strange-- not to mention great feats of human architecture. The crumbling remains of the colosseum, the rebuilt library at Alexandria, cathedrals, and carvings, and statues. IT was quite awe inspiring. The humans had far more cultural tradition, and history than she could have thought possible for such a young species.

When given the history of their wars she was stunned at such a history of violence, which could rival only that of the Drev, and certainly rivaled it in their brutality. How they had used nuclear power to destroy civilian populations, how they had used gas that burned the eyes and the lugs, weapons that could cycle deadly rounds at hundreds of bullets per minute, explosives. They even trained other animals to attack their fellow humans. If there was a way to inflict pain on another, the humans had discovered and protected it.

In all of human history this was the first time they had ever been united as a world, and that was only after the Pan-Asian war which had happened during some of these human’s lifetimes.

Admiral Vir admitted that his father had fight in the war, though it was over before he was born.

Looking up at the images of destruction and carnage painted by artisans long past she couldn't help but shake her head. Admiral vir stepped up beside her, “i am lucky…. I grew up in a world that wasn’t at war, a world that was united under one banner. It is the first time in human history where no one has had to live in the shadow of war.

She shook her head bemused and in shock. She had always thought the humans were a bit like the rundy. She knew they had a centralized system of government, but she had never considered it to be so young. He turned to look at her sadly, “I do not expect it to last long.”

With his ominous words, he stepped to the side and she looked to watch him go.

It was a sudden commotion at the far end of the room that got her attention, and she wandered over to where the humans were gathering their voices nervous.

“What is going on?”

The humans turned the looks on their faces rather guilty.

Finally Admiral Vir was the first to speak up, “It seems chairwoman, that earth has decided to have unseasonal weather patterns, and ones that are forming quickly. A tropical storm that was predicted to stay out at sea has moved up the cost and is heading towards us.”

“We have to get the chairwoman out of here,” one of the humans announced, and she couldn’t help but agree.

Admiral Vir nodded and motioned her to follow as she put on her facemask.

They made their way down the hall and the door was open. Past him she could see a gathering set of massive black clouds. It was like nothing she had ever seen the wall of clouds so high that they flattened out at the top as if they had reached the ceiling of their height. Admiral Vir stepped out onto the tarmac, and just as he did there was a sharp gust of wind so powerful that it ripped one of the canopies loose.

Admiral vir was obscured for a second as the canopy ripped past,and when it was gone he was on the ground holding up his hand against the wind. A few others rushed out to help him.

“Get the chairwoman back inside.” He ordered walking back into the hallway and looking down at his upper arm.

His uniform had been sliced open on the bicep, and a thin line of red was just visible.

She was scared now.

Two men shut the doors, tugging against an aggressive wind as the other canopies were tugged from the ground.

As she watched, the ground suddenly began sprouting little black spots. She had no idea what it was for the longest time, until her brain finally caught up with what her eyes were seeing.

It was raining.

In horror she stepped back from the door.

It had rained once on the capital city in Irus in living memory. Corpses had lined the street in the dozens and so it had been named. The day of the falling.

Admiral Vir rested his gloved hand on her shoulder, “We should get you further inside.” He suggested

“Your arm?”

“I’m alright. I got unlucky and it caught me by an edge.”

The wind was kicking up even more and she swore she could almost hear it. By the time they had made it back to the safe room, she watched in horror as sheets of rain came thundering down from above. Great puddles and rivulets were beginning to form on the ground running down the streets like rivers.

The humans themselves seemed fine, unless they looked at her, in which cases they seemed very worried. She cowered in a corner watching great pooling of water pour from the sky and rush down the windows.

Admiral Vir came to sit next to her, his arm having been treated.

The rain seemed to go on forever battering against the window as the wind tossed it closer. The sound was thunderous, and roaring.

Admiral Vir was doing his best to keep her calm and had produced a deck of cards from what seemed like nowhere. He was teaching her how to play a game the humans called golf and had even invited some of the other humans over to join in. It was mostly a game of chance though there was some strategy required. She lost the first round but was pleased to make it through the second with the least amount of points

It was just then that the entire room was lit up b a horrendous flash of light and a sudden eruption that seemed to rend the walls. She screamed and the lights around them went out. The ground below her shook and in stunned desperation she reached out to make sure she was still alive.

Rundi have poor night vision, and the room appeared very dark, only silhouettes against the pale grey light filtering in from outside.

“What was that!” she squealed.

There was a click, and a flash of light lit up a circle around her. She could see the Admiral’s face lit by under beams of light, “Lightning strike must have taken out the power.”

“Lightning, you mean this is an electrical storm.”

“It’s the east coast, Ma’am it's always an electrical storm. Nothing to worry about though, the backup generators should be kicking on soon.”

Even as he said those words the lights overhead flickered on though they were somewhat dimmer than before. Rain still thrashed the window outside.”

“You grew up like this.” She said incredulously cowering back against the wall.

Admiral Vir shook his head, ‘No ma’am. I’m From central Mericanda, we get earthquakes and blizzards that stack snow in up to six foot drifts.”

“Snow?” She asked having heard the word at one point but forgetting what it meant.

“Frozen water, it falls from the sky in crystal flakes all fluffy, but it is very cold and it can kill you if you aren't careful.

She shook her head incredulous.

“Death Valley or the Sahara might have been a better option I am thinking.” Admiral Vir said, and the others nodded in agreement.

They sat in the dimness for a little longer listening to the rain and the lightning, and she was sort of beginning to relax with the realization that the storm was outside, when another loud noise jarred her from her peace.

IT was loud, very loud, a wailing which rose in pitch, then dropped back down and rose again. Lights flashed overhead.

Admiral Vir lifted his head as did the others, and the looks on their faces scared her more than anything had yet that day.

The humans were frightened.

“What is that!”

Admiral Vir turned to look at her, “It's a Tornado Siren.”

All along the walls she watched in wide-eyed shock as great metal shutters clamped down over the windows, blocking her view of the outside. The lights dimmed even further.

“We have to get the chairwoman to the bunker.” Admiral Vir was saying

“A tornado? What is a Tornado?”

Admiral vir caught her by the hand and led her towards the hallway, “We have to go.”

“Admiral!”

He kept going dragging her out into the hall where metal shutters were continuing to slam shut. The sound of the rain grew in intensity until it was almost deafening as if large rocks were being showered down on them.

“Hail.” The man said

“Hail?”

“Chunks of ice falling from the sky.”

“What!”

The entire building seemed to shake around them as groups of men and woman ran up and down the halls vanishing into interior rooms and charging down stairs into the basement.

They moved along the hall for a little while when she heard the wind kick up.

Evidently the Admiral did too as he dragged her into another interior room, which turned out to be a some sort of closet.

He pushed her down onto the floor.

“Cover your head.” He ordered.

She did as told covering her head as he tipped objects from the shelves and onto the floor, pulling the shelves off as he did. Soon there was nothing over their heads at all. She pressed into the corner and he knelt in front of her one green eye wide in concern.

“You never told me what a tornado was.”

He grimaced, “it is a spiraling vortex of wind that can reach up to 300 miles per hour. They can be many yards wide and reach up into the clouds. They are capable of ripping buildings in half.”

She went very quiet, and outside the wind intensified.

The building around them began to shake.

In that moment she watched as the human leaned over her, bracing his arms against the wall and covering his head, but using as much of his body as possible to protect her, like a human shield of bone and flesh.

Something shattered and there was a loud cracking noise as metal slammed against metal.

The building shook even more violently.

Fear rose up inside her the likes of which she had never seen.

Overhead the ceiling tiles began to fall breaking across the human’s back and erupting into pisces on the floor.

She could see the exposed wiring past the space between the human’s arms.

A roaring echoed through the hallway, and more tiles fell from above. The human hunched closer until she couldn’t see anything past his body and the glittering metals on the breast of his uniform.

This went on for several log minutes. Long minutes in which she was sure she would perish.

But then, all went suddenly quiet.

It was an eerie quiet and for the longest time she wasn’t sure what had gone on, and then the admiral backed up, shaking dust from his hair.

When he stood, she could see another small spot of blood high on one of his shoulders.

He had…. Protected her, from that.

He smiled, “Sounds like it’s over.”

Outside in the hall she could hear others moving around, and standing behind him she walked out into the hall running into the UN president who looked rather frazzled.

The entire hallway was dotted with tiles fallen from the ceiling, and one of the metal shields seemed rather ent, but the building didn’t look much the worse for ware.

“Did it hit us?” Admiral vir wondered.

“Yeah it hit the south west corner and then skirted up and around.”

“Any casualties.”

“No, everyone was safe inside and the storm shutters held as planned.”

She turned to look at the chairwoman, “Once upon a time that might have been a lot worse than it was, but our technology is improving every year.”

The Chairwoman shook her head in awe not sure what to say.

One thing was for sure though, she wanted off this planet. She understood humans better than she ever had at this moment. She knew why they were so tough, brave and fearless. Any creature that had to live their lives fighting against their own planet for survival was best kept on the GA side.

She glanced up at Admiral Vir, who was wiping blood from behind one ear.

Brave.

Risking his own life like that to protect her.

What a species.

What a planet.

She didn’t want to visit ever again.

#earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are weird

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