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jamdoughnutmagician · 9 months

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All The Man That I Need (18+)

Beefy!Bucky x Female Reader

Warnings:18+, Smut, Size Kink, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Squirting, Missionary Position, Kissing. If I've missed anything that you want tagged just let me know!

Authour's Note: There's literally no plot here whatsoever, just shameless smut. I haven't written for bucky in a while so I wanted to try writing for him again, but honestly writing this was a bit of a struggle so it may not be my best work.

Word Count:1,524

Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

There was no shred of doubt about it, Bucky was big. In every sense of the word. Tall, broad and deliciously thick. His hair falling down along his chiselled, strong jaw in soft chocolate tresses.

There was only one word that came to mind when you laid your eyes on your Bucky.

Beefy.

Bucky was also immensely strong, with powerful muscles padding along the length of his arms, both human and metal alike. His legs were long, his thighs just as powerful as his arms, with sturdy muscles running the length of them.

Never have you ever felt more safe than when you’re held in the comforting warmth of his embrace, resting your head on the well-defined muscle of his chest. His arms circling you to bring you close to him, just where he always wanted you to be.

Bucky also never misses the opportunity to show off to you his super-soldier size and strength. Every inch of his six foot tall frame towered over you, but never once did he ever make you feel intimidated.

His size and strength also came into play in the bedroom. Easily picking you up in his arms as if you weigh next to nothing, carrying you to the bed with a gentleness that others may have assumed he wasn't capable of, but you knew that wasn't true.

He caged you beneath him, stroking his thumb over your cheek tenderly. before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that was full of passion.

"You're so beautiful, Doll." His steely grey-blue eyes sparkle in the moonlit-glow streaming in through the window, illuminating the otherwise dark room.

His lips descend lower, kissing his way down the column of your throat, occasionally stopping to nibble and suck hickeys into the crook of your neck.

His lips trail further downwards, kissing his way across your collarbones and over the plump swell of your breasts. Taking the time to shower each of your breasts with its equal share of gentle kisses.

His tongue darts out from between his pink lips, swirling around one of your nipples, teasing the bud into a hardened peak. Whilst his human hand works to tease your other nipple, pinching and rolling it between the rough pads of his fingertips.

His kisses continue to trail down your body, kissing in-between the valley of your breasts, moving down to kiss over the soft skin of your stomach, before laying a sweet kiss amongst the small thatch of hair between your legs.

Bucky wastes no time in raising your hips up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up to him.

He leans down to your core, the tip of his nose nudging at your clit as he begins to lick his way through your folds. His tongue flattens against you as he takes one long sweep from the bottom of your slit to the very top, using the tip of his tongue to quickly flick against your clit. He sucks your clit between his plump pink lips, before letting go with a wet pop.

With a desperate whine you find your hands tangling into the lengths of his shaggy brown hair, your chest rising and falling with shuddering breaths.

He listens and takes your desperate whines of pleasure as a sign that you needed a little more from him.

“You want one of my fingers, huh Doll?” he asks, drawing back from you to look you deep in the eyes.

“Please..” your voice rasps out.

“Which one do you want, hm? You want this one?” he asks as the chill of his cold metal hand softly squeezes the plump flesh of your thigh.

You shake your head.

“No?” his deep rumbling voices teases.

“Want your other hand…please…just wanna feel you..please” you plead, desperate to feel the warm touch of his human hand.

“Well since you asked so nicely..” he smirks before slowly easing one of his thick fingers into your tight wet heat.

He begins to slowly draw his finger in and out, making sure to press against that spot deep inside you that has your hips wriggling against the mattress. His metal hand is held over your stomach, providing you with a gentle pressure that makes everything he's doing feel so much more intense. You're fighting the urge to arch your back from the pleasure, but the chill of his metal hand against the heated flush of your skin keeps you right where he wants you to be.

“Oh you need it real bad don’t you Doll?” he’s relentless in his teasing. He always is. Always knowing just the right things to say that will have you wordlessly nodding your head for more.

His finger brushes against the spot inside you that has you rolling your hips.

His lips are on you once more, working in tandem with his finger, as he tastes you with an unabashed confidence.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet baby..Know you’re close, I can feel you squeezing my finger..” he mumbles against you as tongue continues to flick against your clit.

“Come for me, Doll…” he pleads as he watches how your heaving breaths of pleasure turn into desperate whines.

With one more thrust of his finger inside you and the flick of his tongue over your sensitive clit, you felt your orgasm rush over you. Your tight cunt pulsing with a wet gush as you squirt out your release.

You hear a deep rumbling laugh as you look down between your thighs to see Bucky pull back for a moment, only to see his face glistening with the evidence of your orgasm. His tongue is immediately darting out to savour your taste on his lips, never missing out on the opportunity to drink down every last drop of you.

Leaning back on his haunches you see him slowly stroke his hand up and down his cock, teasing the head by swiping a thumb through the pooling mess of pre-cum glistening at his tip.

“See what eating your pussy does to me baby? Swear nothing makes me harder than getting to taste your sweetness on my tongue, Doll.”

With his cock held firmly in his hand he lays the length of him down against your lower stomach, almost as if he’s sizing you up. His tip coming up to rest just below your belly button, leaving a stick smear of pre-cum as he taps his heavy dick against your skin.

You were all too aware of Bucky's impressively sizable length, but seeing him line himself up against you like that makes you realise just how big he is, and how much he fills you up.

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward slowly with a groan. Filling you up inch by inch with his thick cock. Working himself until he is fully settled inside you.

He gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch, knowing that you always need a quick moment to gather yourself when he fills you so completely.

He feels your heels digging into his back and that's all the go-ahead he needs before he's drawing his hips back and thrusting himself into your tight wet cunt.

He rolls his hips experimentally before he feels your nails digging into his shoulder bringing him close as you whisper in his ear.

“Want it hard…please..” you whine, placing a sweet kiss below his ear.

Bucky immediately pulls you close to him, his metal hand squeezing into the plump curve of your hips as he begins to fuck his hips into you with sharp precise thrusts.

The feeling of his thick cock stretching you out straddles the thin line between pain and pleasure, with each thrust into you he satisfies you more than anyone had ever done before.

“Look at you, Doll…Look so pretty underneath me like this…fuck..take my cock so well..” he groans, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

His other hand snakes down to rub circles around your clit with practised ease, knowing your body as well as he did, he knew exactly the right way to touch you that would have you falling apart under his touch.

He continues to work your body, the feeling of him deep inside you and his fingers rubbing you so perfectly has you rolling your eyes back as your orgasm rushed over you.

“That’s it, pretty girl…come for me…wanna feel you squeezing me..” he moans in his deep raspy voice.

With a few more rolls of his hips, he buries his length inside you as deep as he can before he’s filling you up with rope after rope of his release, swallowing your moans in a deep kiss.

Taking a moment to gather himself with a steadying breath he slowly pulls out of you, his eyes never leaving you as he watches the flow of him drip out of you.

Laying down beside you in the bed he pulls you into his strong arms, once again keeping you safe in his embrace. He places a loving and tender kiss into the crown of your hair.

"My perfect Doll…I love you so much.."

tags @itsfreakingbats @sidepartskinnyjeans @buckgasms

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky x female reader smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #marvel fanfiction

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junkdrawerfics · 1 year

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Insomnia

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: There's one thing the Cullens don't know about you and you try with every fiber of your being to make sure things stay that way, especially with your boyfriend, Jasper. His gift makes it a little hard though, making you stretch to unhealthy limits.

Word Count: 2677

Warnings: Insomnia, the effects of sleep deprivation, no beta

---

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you lean against the lockers, welcoming the cold bite of the metal against your skin. Why did you come to school today? Every second that goes by, you feel like you’re walking deeper and deeper into a fog only surrounding you. It makes it hard to think, hard to process anything.

“Darlin’?”

You jump like a cat finding a cucumber when a deep voice breaks through your fog. As quick as you’ve moved in days, you spin around to find a familiar blond standing right behind you. Jasper. Out of habit, a smile slips onto your lips.

“Morning Jazz,” you murmur and wrap your arms around his waist.

Jasper doesn’t reply, just gently pulls you back so he can look at your face, his brow furrowed. You keep the smile up and try your hardest to push your emotions away, just focusing on how happy it makes you to see him. You don’t want him to worry. It feels like that’s all you do, make him worry, which honestly just makes you feel worse, so hopefully today you can play off the sluggishness clinging to you. It would be so much easier if he didn’t have his gift.

“Everything alright, darlin’?”

He might have caught on before you could think of hiding it, though. Stubbornly, you press on, giving him a nod and stretching up onto your toes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Everything perfect now that you’re here,” you throw out the cheesy line, which seems to be enough to distract him.

Jasper shakes his head, but an amused smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

“So, are you going to walk me to class, cowboy?” You ask, closing your locker after you grab the books you need.

“It’d be my pleasure, ma’am.”

Your heart melts at his words, and your smile shifts into a soft grin as the blond loops your arm through his and takes your books. Such a gentleman. And lucky for you, all his previous concerns have disappeared. Hopefully you can keep it that way for the rest of the day.

It’s a mostly well-hidden secret you keep from the vampire coven. Ironically, Bella is the only one who knows about it, your insomnia. On a normal day, you can function well enough and get through school with little issue, but recently it’s been worse. Last night was particularly bad, and by that you mean you didn’t sleep at all.

You just don’t want Jasper or the others to find out about it. Not because you don’t trust them, or it’s some big, bad secret, of course. You just…You already feel so weak compared to them and all their amazing powers. You don’t feel the need to add to that, or worry them.

So, one day of hiding your fatigue isn’t too hard.

A week later, however, you feel like you’re falling apart at the seams.

You’re sitting in history class, trying to listen to whatever your teacher is saying about the civil war, and then the next moment, you’re jolting awake to the school bell. The shrill ringing sends pulses of pain through your head. They crash on you like waves, and you can’t breathe, can’t even open your eyes without nausea sweeping through you.

“Are you alright, Miss (L/n)?”

Vaguely, you can hear your teacher’s voice, but he sounds miles away. It feels like there’s cotton stuffed into your ears, which somehow makes the ringing in your head even louder. Despite the pain, and the sudden urge to throw up, you nod your head and slowly shuffle out of the room. Out of the room and into the loud, loud hallway.

“Hey (Y/n)!”

You flinch. Why are they screaming right in your ear? Everything in slow motion, you turn, eyes squinted but unable to make out the blurry figure jumping in front of you. Why are they moving so slow? Or are you moving slow? Why can’t you see their face?

The nausea comes crashing back over you, and you have to press a hand against the nearest wall to keep yourself upright. The person, you assume you know them, asks you something. What are they saying? The words mix and blend, getting lost and muffled in the cotton. Brow furrowed, you try to get them to repeat themselves, but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, like sand. You press a hand to your forehead, the pounding becoming more like someone taking a hammer to your skull. Everything feels so heavy, so loud, so…so…

Your head hits the tile before you can hear the surprised shrieks ringing through the hall.

---

Jasper jerks when he hears a loud scream sound from another hall across the school.

“What was that?” Alice asks, earning a few weird looks from the passing students. They hadn’t heard it, of course.

The blond vampire shrugs, but something uneasy starts to build in his chest. An accident on school grounds could mean blood, and losing control here would be a one way ticket to leaving Forks, leaving you. He can’t bear the thought.

“Should we go check it out?” Alice looks at him, gold eyes gleaming with concern. The same thoughts are running through her mind.

“No,” Jasper says tightly, lips pursed.

The ravenette nods in agreement, so the two continue towards their class. The uneasiness doesn’t go away, though. All Jasper can think about is you, where you might be, if you’re okay. You’d been acting strange the past week, and it only makes it worse that he can’t seem to get a grip on your emotions. It’s like you’re hiding them from him. That in itself worries him, but he trusts you, knows you’ll talk to him if you want to. He won’t push. Yet.

Jasper tries to put these thoughts out of his head as their algebra class starts. Though he doesn’t need to focus in the class (they had taken it several times at this point), keeping appearances is important to the Cullens. It is difficult though when images of you flitter through his head each time the teacher starts to drone.

Things come to an abrupt halt when the door flies open. Everyone jumps in their seats when it slams loudly against the wall.

Alice and Jasper exchange a look when Edward appears at the front, offering a sheepish smile before quickly talking to the teacher in a hushed voice. One only the vampires and he can hear.

“Jasper Hale and Alice Cullen have been requested at the office. There’s been an…incident,” Edward says in a calm, smooth voice. The teacher doesn’t even question him, just gestures for the pair to go.

“What’s going on, Edward?” Alice demands once they reach the hall. There were no visions, nothing about an accident with the family, so she feels horribly caught off guard.

Jasper walks a few paces ahead of his siblings, overwhelmed by the concern and shock rolling off of Edward. It’s not like him to project his emotions so loudly, and it sets the blond on edge. If he was feeling uneasy before, now he’s on the brink of panic. Had something happened to Bella? Was it good idea for him to be here if so?

“Bella is fine,” Edward assures him from behind, a hint of hesitation creeping into his voice as he continues, “It’s…It’s (Y/n).”

Jasper stops dead in his tracks. He whips around, wide eyes ablaze.

Both his siblings take a step back, unfamiliar with the wild, unbridled look on the blond. His careful composure is cracking. Things are different with you, they always have been. Despite having the ability to sense and influence emotions, Jasper struggles to contain himself when it comes to you. Everyone felt the shift when they met you. They had all been ecstatic to see Jasper’s more reserved nature slip away around you, but they never considered what else that could entail.

“She’s okay, Jasper,” Edward is quick to try and calm him, “She’s just resting in the nurse’s off-”

In the blink of an eye, he’s gone. Off to find you.

“You probably should have waited on that detail,” Alice murmurs, a touch of amusement in her words, “It’s nice to see how much he cares about her, though.”

Edward nods, but he can’t ward off the concern that pulls his lips into a thin line. Alice puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly before giving him a tug towards the office.

“Let’s go,” she insists, “and tell me what happened on the way, okay?”

---

You’re just waking up when Jasper rushes into the room. In less than a second, he is kneeling at your side, jaw clenched, eyes scanning every inch of you for injuries.

“Hey Jazz,” you croak, throat dry and scratchy.

Those wild amber eyes finally meet yours, and it feels like a punch to the gut, worse than the headache still clinging to you. They are filled to the brim with untamed concern and glazed over with exhaustion. But he can’t get tired. The thought makes you cringe. You did this, he’s feeling your emotions. Why did you let it get this far?

The building distress quickly fizzles out, replaced by a warmth, a sense of contentment. It’s unnatural, certainly Jasper’s gift, but you close your eyes anyways and let it take over. It is a welcomed break from the torrent you’ve been living through.

“Sorry if I scared you,” you break the small silence building between you, peaking an eye open to look at him again, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?”

Jasper nods curtly, but doesn’t say anything. You take that as the sign to keep talking. He deserves an explanation.

Starting with a deep breath, you hesitantly begin, “Well…I have insomnia. I um, it’s hard to fall asleep sometimes, and when I do, it’s hard to stay asleep.” You chew on your bottom lip. It almost sounds ridiculous, it’s like you don’t know how to sleep. You basically don’t. “You could say I’m going through a rough patch right now.”

One of Jasper’s hands covers yours, which you were fiddling with. His fingers interlace with yours gently, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“Darlin’...when was the last time you slept?”

It takes you a moment to think. Whenever things get bad, your memory is the first thing to go in the trash.

“Probably like, I mean, if we’re talking a decent amount of sleep, that was probably, probably a week ago?”

Jasper takes in a deep breath, jaw clenching once again. His grip on your hand tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to know he’s distressed.

“I’m okay, though, I’ve been dealing with this for years,” you smile at him softly in reassurance.

Exhaustion is slowly creeping back towards you, tugging at your mind like an annoying little tick you can’t get rid of. He must notice too, because he suddenly looks around for a nurse, one of which is standing near the doorway to keep an eye on the two of you.

“May I take her home? She’ll be needin’ some rest after all of this.”

The nurse seems to hesitate, but you notice a small shift in her expression before she offers a warm smile and concedes, “Of course, hun. Make sure she gets home safe, we’ll give her parents a call.”

You go to get up, but are denied the chance to stand when Jasper quickly sweeps you up bridal style. A squeak escapes your parted lips, all the while a small grin tugs at the blond’s lips. You cling to his shoulders, squirming slightly, but his grip just tightens.

“I can walk on my own, you know,” you grumble and hit his chest weakly, “Don’t go to any trouble for me.”

The small twitch of his lips turns into one of his fully cocked smirks and he raises a brow at you, “Trust me, darlin’, it’s no trouble. If you don’t recall, I’m stronger than I look.”

You pout at the smugness in his voice. Stupid vampire. Stupid super strength. And he totally used his gift to convince that nurse to let you go. If you had any energy left, you’d probably find something snide to say, but all you want to do is curl into his cool embrace and fall asleep. Just one full night of sleep.

“Is she okay?”

Alice?

“You gave us a real fright, girlie.”

Yep, that’s Alice.

You offer an embarrassed smile, “Sorry, things got a bit out of hand, I guess.”

“You passed out in the hall.”

And Edward, of course. Makes sense how they found out now.

“I’m taking (Y/n) home so she can rest,” Jasper is quick to explain, “You two can head back to class.”

You hear a snort from your best friend, but she doesn’t pose an argument. She must be worried too, but it would look weird for her to leave. It’s bad enough that you’re dragging Jasper out. It’s a relief he offered though. Because there’s no way you could get home without a car, since both your parents are working.

“Can we um, can we take it slow, Jazz? Kinda nauseous,” you grumble, burying your face in his sweater.

“Of course, darlin’.” He presses his lips to your hair and the journey starts.

You let your eyes close, equal parts lulled and dizzied by the steady sway of Jasper’s steps. Despite taking it slow, it still feels like you reach your home in no time. When you open your eyes next, you’re right in front of your house. Jasper silently asks for your keys. You fish them from your pocket with trembling fingers. He glides into the house, kicking the door shut behind him as he carries you to your bedroom. With a gentleness beyond human, the blond settles you down on the bed.

You curl up under your comforter as he proceeds to speed around, gathering everything you could possibly need. Food, water, extra blankets. You wouldn’t think based on the way he presents himself that Jasper is actually the biggest, softest teddy bear. You don’t think you’ve met a kinder soul.

When everything is in its place, Jasper settles down on the edge of the bed. He glances around, as if looking for something he can do. You reach out to grab the hem of his sweater, bringing those gold eyes down to you.

“Can you stay? Cuddle?” You mumble with your best puppy dog eyes.

Jasper smiles softly, not one of his smirks or fanged grins, just one of his smiles that he reserves just for you, “Why, of course. Anything for you, darlin’.”

The blond slips under the blankets and leans against the backboard, shifting so you can curl into him, head on his lap. The exhaustion that has been lurking around you seems to be just on the edge, so close to letting you sleep, but something in your chest won’t settle. Him being here helps. You feel safer when he’s next to you. It feels like you didn’t even know the meaning of peace until you met Jasper.

The vampire senses the quick succession of your emotions. He tenderly threads his fingers through your hair and focuses on detangling the strands as he does the same to your emotions. For each one, he replaces them with something comforting to help you sleep. Safety, love, everything warm.

You melt into Jasper, the ache in your chest finally easing.

“I love you,” you all but whisper, eyes fluttering closed.

He leans over, pressing one final kiss to your forehead. His lips brush your skin as he murmurs, “I love you too, now get some sleep.”

You giggle sleepily and bury your face back into his lap. The feeling of his fingers in your hair slowly lulls you to sleep, one you willingly give in to. And for the first time in a week, you stay asleep. All thanks to a certain Jasper Whitlock.

---

Love me some Jasper Whitlock. I felt like writing this because of my experience with insomnia, and I thought it would be interesting how that would work with Jasper's gift.

#jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x reader #jasper x reader #reader insert #reader #x reader #twilight #twilight saga

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fortune-fool02 · 10 months

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Run

Miguel O'Hara x Anomaly, female reader

Summary: [Name] had never truly had a reason to fear Miguel, until now.

Warnings: Light spoilers for ATSV, angst, canon violence. Dark?

Word count: 1,351 words

I couldn't help but fall for this man.

Thank you for reading. Please leave feedback and reblog as it really helps. Thank you.

Please enjoy.

My heart pounded in my ears, drumming heavily inside my chest. Weak, pathetic gasps of breath were all my lungs could muster at this moment, straining my muscles on a thin edge of energy, but I had to keep going. Swallowing down what little oxygen I could, I took off running once again.

The power to this place had been cut off, leaving me shrouded in a thick coat of darkness. Shadows shifting and spreading around the walls and floors, spreading their wings like a great crow, reaching out towards me to swallow me whole. Each little sound, each little noise, no matter how soft or distant, shot a fresh wave of fear through my body.

The walls seemed to be closing in on me, bending unnaturally to contain me, like a rat inside an ever-expanding maze, watched by unseen eyes, observed. Every room I moved into began to look more identical to the last to the point I was certain I was running around in bloody circles now.

I knew I took a left this time instead of right. Or was it the other way around?

"Fuck." I softly cursed, looking around frantically to search for any indication of someplace new, some form of escape from this place. The ache in my muscles begged for me to stop and rest, and it was growing more and more tempting for every second that I stood still, but I had to push it aside. I couldn't risk stopping now.

The silence was calming but tense. My ears straining to listen for anything. How had this all gone so wrong so fast? The thought bounced around in my head. They were supposed to be a team, all of us working together as a unit to keep the balance. And now, there was no team. Only those hunting and those being hunted.

A distant sound caught my attention, making the pulse in my veins go silent for a moment. Something sharp scraping along metal, creating that uncomfortable screeching sound that made one want to grit their teeth. An icy coldness filled my body, sapping out any ounce of courage I might have had before.

The sound grew closer and closer, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, and I looked around. A small room stood to the side and I pushed the door open, sliding my body inside and tucking down behind a desk, attempting to make myself as small as possible. Anxiety clashed inside of me, gnawing away at my bones and chewed at my veins like a starved dog as I sat absolutely still.

A soft creak was heard from the hinges of the door as it was pushed open, my heart in my throat. Faint, almost silent footsteps tapped the cold floor, the sound almost deafening in the quiet room. A heavy presence filled the room, choking out any ounce of air out and replacing it with this dense, curshing smoke. I almost couldn't breathe.

The bottom of Miguel's shoes could be seen on the otherside of the desk, he was standing so close that if I breathed a little too loud, he would hear it. I bit down on my lip, trying to silence my breathing and watched his movements carefully.

He stood there, his shadow creeping under the small gap under the desk. Even his shadow alone was intimidating. As if I touched it, he would know I was there. I could feel his eyes behind the wood of the desk, piercing down at me with their vibrant, eerie glow. The eyes of a predator hunting down his prey, his meek, pathetic prey.

Any minute now, he would tear the desk apart and expose my hiding spot and then it was all over for me. It was by some stroke of luck that I had survived this long running from him. Miguel had always seemed like a patient man, but behind that patience, there was something brewing. Stirring under the surface. Waiting for its chance to emerge.

Now, he was almost a different man. Someone I had once trusted to have my back in any situation, someone I sided with through thick and thin.

Slowly, his shoes turned away from the desk and began to walk out of the room. A small breath of relief slipped my lips before it was cut off by a painful sharpness, my body distorting for a brief moment as a violent glitch ran through my body. And his footsteps stopped.

Before I had a chance to move, five talons pierced through the wood of the desk, just missing my head by a hair thread before the desk was thrown across the room, shattering upon impact and throwing splinters outwards.

Miguel stood there, his expression twisted with an anger that made my very nerves tense up. His eyes glowing deeply in the darkness.

"There you are." His voice was dripping with the same venom in his fangs, that could out any snake or spider to shame. A fearful cry left my lips as I tried to crawl backwards, trying to get away from him, but Miguel was faster. He always was.

His foot shot out, striking my chest hard and pinned me to the floor. The weight of it crushing out any air in my lungs.

"M-Mi....guel...." I choked out, trying to squirm under his weight, a fruitless attempt. His body lowered down, his knee replacing his foot which only made it worse. A faint cracking sound was made from my chest, my ribcage straining under him to the point I feared the bones would snap. His eyes pierced into me, deep into my very soul, eyes that I once would gaze deeply into. But now, all I saw was rage.

"All you had to do was listen to me, [Name]." He hissed out, his fangs glimmering in the low light, "And you couldn't even do that." I couldn't help but cower. Of all the enemies I faced in my universe, none of them came close to the fear I felt looking up at Miguel at this moment in time. None of them came close to the threat that he radiated.

"P-Please, I made a mistake, I know that." I forced out, wheezing for air as my lungs began to burn. All I could focus on where those eyes of his. The only spark of colour in the darkness around us. Even like this, there was a beauty to the man, in the same way that a venomous snake held the most beautiful patterns in their scales, or a tiger baring the boldest of stripes on their fur.

Or the most stunning spider holding the most potent venom.

The cold sharpness of his talons brushed along the side of my face, pushing some strands out of the way of my eyes, but the tips of them hovering far too close for comfort to my eyes.

"Then you knew this would be coming." Miguel's talon brushed the corner of my eye, making the muscle around it twitch. "Then you wouldn't have tried to run." A light stinging sensation was felt as the tip of the talon pushed into my skin lightly, just enough to break the skin but not deep enough to draw blood. Slowly, he dragged it along to my cheekbone, an almost thoughtful expression filling his face as if admiring something.

Then, he shifted the movement sharply, cutting open a wound. "Ah!"

His other hand gripped the side of my head, forcing me to keep still and look up at him, and only him. I was completely at his mercy. Until he saw my punishment fit of my so-called 'crime'.

When Miles had made a run for it through the 'Go-Home' machine, I made no attempt to stop him. I let him run right past me when I was more than capable of stopping him. I was the last line of defence, and I let Miles escape. My loyalty might have laid with Miguel, but my sympathy was with Miles. The boy deserved a chance to save his father.

Miguel, clearly, did not see it the same way.

#miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #spiderman2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv x reader

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clockwayswrites · 6 months

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Like Betta Fish Do Part 27

Wc:3213 Masterpost CW: Hospitalization, discussions of temporary character deaths

The hospital was pure chaos. Reporters were at the door, police were at the reporters to stay back, and the Waynes were pacing.

None of them had wanted to be left behind, not with this, so as soon as those who had been playing hero changed, they all headed for the hospital. Bruce had met them in a waiting room that had been cleared out for their use. There were benefits to having a wing named after one’s father.

“Clear,” Babs said as she and Tim finished typing on the tablets that they had brought from WE. “CTV cameras will just loop past this room.”

“There are no bugs. I’ve activated scramblers for parabolic mics or anything, not that they should be able to get to us in here anyways,” Tim said.

“What happened?” Steph asked, looking to Bruce.

Bruce looked to Dick. The rest of the eyes followed.

Dick sighed.

“It’s not my secret to tell.”

“I believe we are past that, Richard,” Damian snapped.

“Why don’t you start with a debrief of tonight,” Bruce coached.

“I was almost in suit when Babs came over the comms, telling us they took Danny. I started to look for suspicious vehicles given the time frame. I wasn’t successful at spotting anything before the…” Dick was really glad that Jason was back with Danny and not here listening to this. “…before the trap went off. I saw one of the buildings go dark.

"Cass joined me. We took out the henchmen at the van and leading into the building. Based on intel, I headed straight for the basement. The place was flooded an inch or two deep. They broke the sprinkler valve, I believe. Danny was tied to a metal chair bolted in the middle of the room. A wire had been tapped into the circuit breaker and was at Danny’s feet. His shoes were off.”

Dick swallowed hard and let his arms drop to his side. That urge to punch something was still there. He flexed his hands and then purposefully relaxed them.

“I was sure he was dead, but when I called out his name he moved. I made sure the circuit breaker was off, disconnected the wire, and went to him. He was…” Dick snorted, shaking his head. “He was making jokes. He was conscious but not fully lucid. Confusion, slurred words, panic. He didn’t want to be taken to the hospital. He thought they would cut him open if ‘they knew’. I was able to convince him to come by saying we’d get Leslie and that we’d protect him.”

Damian scoffed. “Of course we will.”

“Case?” Cass signed, face scrunched up in question.

“And asked Alfred to bring a case, one that Jason put in the Cave that Danny gave him,” Dick confirmed.

“What’s in it?” Tim asked.

Dick just shook his head.

“He’s a Meta, isn’t he?” Duke asked. The question was quiet, but it felt loud in the tense air of the waiting room. He wasn’t staring at the ground rather than any of them. “Something new. Maybe something dangerous or, worse, something useful. It’s why he’s afraid they’ll cut him open.”

Steph cussed and turned to punch the wall only to be stopped by Tim.

“Is he?” Tim asked.

It seemed like there was no getting out of this question. “’Close enough’ was the way it was put when I stumbled in on… the secret.”

“Are his powers electricity based?” Babs asked. “Is that how he survived?”

Dick laughed. The bitter sound made a few of the others flinch or grimace.

“No, opposite, really. He’s weak to it. I think they only got him because they used tasers and it really knocks him out.” I’m so sorry, Danny, Dick thought. “Danny… Danny’s been electrocuted before when he was a kid. It killed him, however briefly. Really… I’m not sure if it didn’t actually kill him again tonight.”

This time Tim didn’t stop Stephanie from punching the wall.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Dr. Thompkins said as she peeled off her gloves.

Danny just glared at the IV in his hand that had been carefully tapped down and put under a mesh glove.

“It’s like she doesn’t trust me,” Danny whispered loudly to Jason.

“She’s right not to,” Jason said.

Danny pouted at him.

“Fish,” Jason said with a wet chuckle. He ran his hand through Danny’s hair again, which seemed to soothe him. “You said loudly and repeatedly that you were going to go out the window as soon as she stopped watching you or if she took your blood or if she put the IV in.”

“She did take it,” Danny whined.

“I did,” Leslie said, “and I also promised you no one else would get a hold of your blood and I meant it. I need a baseline for you though. It’s my job now to make sure that you’re well.”

“And no clones,” Danny said.

“And no clones,” Leslie said.

She shot Jason a look who just shrugged helplessly. He didn’t know enough about what went down with that to answer her questions.

Leslie gave up with a sigh. “You really went and found someone who fit right in with the family craziness I see.”

“Nah, Doc, he goes above and beyond.”

“Well… that should make for an interesting file.”

Danny flinched at that, hard enough for Leslie to notice and stop what she was doing.

“Danny, listen to me,” Leslie said. She waited until Danny met her eyes to continue. “No one else will see the file. It’s encrypted by Oracle, Batman’s tech person, and that’s understating them. I need to keep a file so that I can treat you and keep you healthy, that’s all.”

“No experiments,” Danny croaked.

Jason wanted to punch someone again.

“No experiments,” Leslie promised.

Danny gave a little nod, turned away from her, and all but climbed into Jason’s lap.

“Make sure he doesn’t pull that IV out,” Leslie ordered and went back to making her notes.

Not long after Jason had gotten him and Danny settled into the hospital bed, there was a knock at the door. Jason’s hand went immediately to the scalpel that Leslie had generously pretended not to notice Jason palming earlier. It didn’t matter that it was a knock Jason recognized, he wasn’t taking any chances with Danny right then.

Jason only relaxed when Dick had stepped fully through the door alone.

“Hey Danny, how are you doing?”

“Leslie took my blood.”

“Yeah, she does that,” Dick said. He was smiling, words cheerful, but Jason could see the cracks in his brother’s facade. “Alfred is going to be here in just a moment with the case. Can I send him in when he arrives? Or I can bring it myself? Or any of us. We’re all out there.”

Danny turned his head enough to be able to peer at Dick with one eye. “You’re worried.”

“Yeah, little fish, we’re all pretty worried. We care about you,” Dick said gently.

Jason resisted the urge to kiss Danny’s pout away as he shifted his gaze from Dick to Leslie.

“Can they come in?” Danny asked.

Leslie pursed her lips. “Only for a half hour. After that, it’s only Jason and one other allowed at a time and that’s only because I want Jason to try to get some rest too. Whoever else is in here is on a minimum two hour shift so not to wake you up every five minutes.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dick chirped.

“And tell them to keep it calm,” Leslie called after Dick as he slipped back out the door. She sighed and shook her head before focusing back on Danny. “Now, there will be nurses who come in.”

“Noooo,” Danny whined.

“Yes,” Leslie said. “They’ll just be taking your blood pressure, which they’ll know to expect to be low, and changing out your saline and pain medication. I’ll be back in the morning myself to check on your burns. Everyone who steps foot in this room will be approved by Bruce and I. Someone from the family will be with you the whole time, you’ll be safe in every way.”

Danny’s pout deepened before he sighed heavily and seemed to deflate. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Danny. Now please try to rest after the group leaves, both of you.”

“Sure, Doc,” Jason answered and sent her a smile. He’d have to do something to help her clinic out soon, she really went above and beyond for them tonight. He managed to get Danny turned around so that his boyfriend wasn’t buried face first into his pecs before his family invaded.

It seemed like everyone was really trying to listen to Leslie and they all filed in orderly and tucked themselves onto the couch and chairs and each other. Bruce and Alfred stayed standing.

“Hi guys,” Danny said with a wobbly smile.

Some of the family flinched at how ruined Danny’s voice sounded. The flinches weren’t obvious to be noticed by anyone by a Bat, except maybe for Duke’s, but they still happened and Jason noticed. They all looked wrecked, really, in various ways. One would almost think they had been the ones kidnapped and murdered tonight.

It was Jason’s turn to flinch at his own thoughts. Greedily, he soothed himself by pressing a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“Hi Danny,” Duke said back. “How are you?”

“You know, feeling a little extra crispy,” he joked.

The room seemed to lose all the air for a moment before Tim groaned. “God, there are two of them now. No wonder you’re dating Jason, you have the same morbid sense of humor.”

The tension in the room broke and Barbie even laughed. (They all ignored how the laugh was a little too tinged with hysteria to be truly happy.)

Alfred cleared his throat and stepped forward. “The case, Master Jason.”

“Ooh, is that…” Danny asked, zeroing in on the case.

“Yep,” Jason confirmed, popping the ‘p’.

Danny held out his arms, making grabby hands at the case. Alfred raised a brow, looking to Jason for permission, before he moved forward and handed over the case. Jason rested his hand on the lid before Danny could open it.

“So,” Jason started. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “no one freak out, okay? What’s in the case isn’t what it looks like. And… and we’ll explain?”

He wasn’t sure if they would.

He wasn’t sure if they could afford not to.

“We’ll explain,” Danny confirmed.

“Okay, Jay-lad,” Bruce agreed, though Jason could tell he didn’t know what he was agreeing to, other than trusting his son.

Jason took a breath and removed his hand. Danny flipped the lid open. It was innocuous at first, a simple black padded case. Then Danny plucked out one of the glowing, Lazarus green ectoshots and the stances of several Bats shifted.

“That is—” Damian started.

“Nope,” Jason interrupted.

“Jay—” Bruce rumbled.

“I’m sure,” Jason said. He glanced at Cass. “Really.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Tim asked, sounding a little strangled.

“Drink it,” Danny answered.

“Drink it?!”

Danny’s nose wrinkled. “Does everyone in this room have issues with that— what did you call it— Pit water?”

“Pit water or Lazarus water,” Jason said. He calmly ran his fingers through Danny’s hair as he made sure to not have a reaction to the ectoshots. Danny needed to drink them, he couldn’t have any of it spilled from misplaced panic. “And a lot of us, yeah. It’s… been a thing. My situation didn’t help any.”

Tim frowned at the vial, clearly itching to get his hands on it. “If that’s not Lazarus water, what is it?”

“Ectoplasm,” Danny sing songed and then just downed the vial to the wince of the room. A shudder ran through his body before he slumped bonelessly against Jason.

Jason plucked the empty vial from Danny’s limp fingers, pressed a kiss to his temple, and put it back in the case. “From best we can think without getting our hands on Lazarus water, they’re a bit related, but ectoplasm is a pure source where as whatever Lazarus water is, it’s fucked up. Beyond that, I think…”

Jason sighed and buried his face in the top of Danny’s head. He didn’t know how to explain the next part to his family. He didn’t know how to tell them he was still, at least a little, dead. He didn’t want to hurt them like that.

“Ectoplasm isn’t a miracle cure, not like it sounds they use Lazarus water for,” Danny said around a jaw cracking yawn. “Doesn’t work for normal people.”

“Does it work for you because you’re a meta?” Duke asked. The sympathy in his voice was hard to hear.

Danny’s laugh wasn’t any easier to hear. “Nope! I mean, like, sure how you count Superman as a meta I’m a meta, I guess. More a different species.”

Steph made an incredulous noise. “You’re an alien?”

“I wish,” Danny snickered. “I’m dead.”

“That is not funny, Nightingale,” Damian snapped.

Jason peered up at his bristling little brother. Demon brat really was already attached to Danny. “He’s not trying to be funny, Dami. Danny is half dead or, rather, half ghost.”

“Okay, which of your parents fucked a ghost?”

“Miss Stephanie,” Alfred chastised.

“Sorry Alfie,” Stephanie mumbled under Danny’s snickering.

At least having almost died (again) tonight saved Danny from being admonished too.

“Ancient, no, my parents hate ghosts,” Danny said.

“But you’re half ghost,” Babs pointed out, gently.

“Yeah. And there’s a reason that I changed my last name and don’t talk to them anymore, not that they know,” Danny said. He stretched out his arms, arching like a cat. Clearly the ectoshot was starting to have an effect. “No, I’m half dead ‘cause I died and then didn’t.”

“You’ve died before, Danny?” Bruce asked, voice carefully gentle in that way he used only when talking to his kids or those who were basically family through his kids.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “It was, um, don’t like talking about it. It’s a ghost thing. But my parents built a portal to the ghost’s realm to try and study them. It didn’t work, not at first. I stepped in it, tripped, hit the on button and bam… ten thousand volts of electricity later and I’m dead.”

Tim and Cass both reached out to stop Steph from moving.

“Thing is, the portal turned on,” Danny continued. “So I also got pure ectoplasm shot right through me. It brought me back, kinda. I’m a halfa; half ghost and half human. Half dead and half alive.”

“You’ve died by electricity before,” Bruce said into the silence of the room.

“Probably died again to it tonight,” Danny said with a casualness that had Jason tightening his arms around Danny. Danny just giggled. “But like I told Dick, I’m immune now.”

“You know,” Barbie said. She narrowed her eyes as Danny shrugged before she glanced to Dick. “And you knew.”

Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Little wing?”

“Go ahead, Dick. I’m pretty sure you’ve connected all the dots now,” Jason said. Maybe it would be easier, no, smoother if Dick explained it. He was better at hiding his anger.

Though by the way Dick had to shift on his feet, maybe not. “I… I think I have. Then you’re…?”

Jason nodded.

“Fuck!” Dick twisted and paced to the door and back again.

“Master Richard!”

“Don’t be so harsh, Alfie,” Jason said. He couldn’t make Dick be the one to tell them; that had been a selfish hope. “Dick just put two and two together that if the ectoshots only help Danny because he’s dead—”

“Part dead,” Danny chimed in brightly.

“—then that means I’m still part dead too.”

“Jay-lad?” Bruce prompted after a tense moment, voice rough.

Jason just smiled sadly. “The Pits healed me. It sorta… filled in the cracks, but it couldn’t fix that whatever brought me back didn’t bring all of me back… or couldn’t bring all of me back. I think that’s part of why the Pits had such a hold on me. Not that it’s an excuse, but just… whatever. Point is, I’m a halfa too, even if I’m still healing enough to be a proper one.”

The family practically curled around each other in grief. Dick tucked Damian against his side. Tim slumped into Steph and Cass. Steph reached out to squeeze Bab’s hand. Bruce took an aborted step towards them. Even Alfred raised a hand to his mouth.

“I’m alright,” Jason assured them.

“You’re still dead!” Dick snapped.

“I’m half alive, that’s more than I was before,” Jason pointed out.

Dick hunched into himself at that, prompting Damian to give Dick an awkward looking hug.

“What all does that mean, being a halfa?” Bruce asked. He held up a hand as he paused and took a measured breath. “I don’t mean that as an interrogation. Right now, what’s important for us to know to make sure you’re both healthy? Or is there anything that we should avoid doing?”

Jason snorted. He appreciated the clarification, the attempt at being gentle, he did, but, “I know you want to know more than that.”

Bruce smiled, though the expression was more mocking himself than anything. “Of course I do. You know me, chum, I don’t do good with only pieces of information, but right now I’m not the important one. I can deal with some… unease so that we can focus on you and Danny.”

“Danny should drink at least another ectoshot in a bit. They help us heal as halfas. Dick knows because there was an incident where I got stabbed. Danny sensed my distress and showed up to give me an ectoshot. I had called Dick already. Which means Danny also knows about everything.”

“Danny sensed your distress?” Tim asked.

“It’s a ghost thing,” Jason said with a shrug, unsure how to really explain it. “It comes from ghosts having cores which are sort of their central organ.”

“You core?” Cass asked, clearly struggling to verbalize right then with how her nose wrinkled.

“I do. Or, I’m getting more of one. Because the Pits put me back together badly I was really messed up.”

“It’s coming in well,” Danny said sleepily. He yawned wildly (a little too widely) and turned to bury his face into Jason’s chest. “Pretty lava core too. It’s good to have close for healing. It’s warm and lovely.”

Jason snorted and kissed the top of Danny’s head. “Go to sleep if you can. You’ll need lots of rest.”

Danny huffed a mumbled protest, but Jason could tell that Danny was fading fast.

“We’ll talk more later, Jay-lad,” Bruce said as he finally let himself come close to help Danny and Jason better settle into the hospital bed to sleep.

“Yeah,” Jason said as he fought his own yawn as the head of the bed lowered. “Have to have Danny show you his ghost form, it’s really something.”

Tim echoed ‘ghost form’ quietly in the background as Alfred murmured something to the group.

“Do you want myself or Dick here for the first shift?” Bruce asked.

“Stay?” Jason asked. His eyes dropped closed as his dad ran a hand through his hair.

“Always.”

---

AN: a very tired taaaaaada. They got the bulk of the explanation! Though still things to learn and talk about. I was going to put in more bits, but this felt full the way it was! Next chapter more answers, more questions, and someone shows up.

I no longer tag people but you can subscribe on the masterpost.

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

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buckys-wintersoldier · 24 days

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Personal Protector |Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> WinterSoldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Politican!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You’re working as a politican for Hydra, and the Winter Soldier is alwas there to protect you, because you're the only person who is nice and soft with him.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.817

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (T) Hydra, corruption, political things, mention of violence, mention of sexual conent (just tiny bit), fluff

𝐀/𝐍 -> I wanna thank @amathslutsguidetofandom for helping me to come up with that idea.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | April 1 | Theme: Hydra | Lemurian Star, Project Insight, Politics, Post-Credit-Scenes, Favourite fight | @catws-anniversary

Sebastian Stan Bingo | Row Two-Two | The Winter Soldier | @sebastianstanbingo

Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It's nothing new to hear your name when it comes to the most popular politicians. You've been working for a while in a group with a lot of other politicians, and you always talk in front of other people about the new concepts of your group. What no one knew was that you were kind of undercover there; your 'father' Pierre took you with him into that political group. And together, you try to get Hydra higher in the political system; you try to make it possible for them to rule the world. You're sitting next to Pierre, listening to the others while you prepare yourself for the next speech. Youre slightly shaking, but none of the other people around you see it; they are all too focused on whatever they want to include in the new political concepts.

Pierre looks at you, his eyes narrowing, and then he nods at you. You will walk out of the room with the most polite smile. You are going to tell those people who are going to sit in front of you about the new things your group has planned, and they will listen, but then you will change the topic and the agents will crash into the room. Make sure those people follow their rules.

You get up from your chair, walk through the room with a nice smile, open the door, and turn once again around to see the smiling faces of your coworkers. Half of them belong to Hydra; the others don't know what's actually going on between the lines of the new political concept. Then you make your way out of the room and along the floor to the hall, where you're going to present the concepts. Next to you appear some agents, Hydra agents, and you hear heavy footsteps behind you, smiling softly when you know that your favorite person who works for Hydra as well is walking behind you - the Winter Soldier.

You had a lot of time to read about him, not only in the library but also when you - unknowingly for Pierre - took some files with you, including one of the Winter Solider. James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America's best friend, fell from the train during a mission with him in the 1940's. Hydra found him without his left arm, which ripped off when he fell off the train in the Alps. They made him a new arm, one out of metal, and gave him Super Soldier serum. He was the first super soldier for Hydra, and since then, he has become the most powerful weapon they have. James isn't a human for them; they treat him like a machine, especially since they finally managed to break him. But for you - someone who read the files and knows his past - he is a poor little puppy who doesn't get the love he deserves. You have seen the way they treat him, the way they put him on the chair, brainwashed him, and he wasn't able to get out of there. His screams echoed through the room, and the way he moved to get out of the chair made your heart ache. But when they were finished, he wasn't like a human anymore; he was like a machine, with those cold blue eyes, and he did whatever they wanted him to do; whatever the instruction, he did it. Whenever he became more like a human, they brainwashed him, put him in cryostasis, and then they had the same cold man back.

You enter the room, the agents around you waiting in front of the door, while the Winter Solider follows you into the hall. You hear the gasp when they recognize the man who is following you. Everyone knows him, but who knew he would appear at a meeting between politicians? Who knows that Hydra has agents wherever you imagine?

You only know it because of the files you have read. The mission on the Lemurian Star: you heard about it - about the ship that actually belongs to SHIELD. And you know that Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff stole information about Project Insight. When you read it, you weren't sure why they should do it until you read more, where you found out that Hydra agents were working for SHIELD to get information, and then they could break SHIELD down and get what they wanted. Hydra would control the world. Project Insight is a project that would get rid of everything that could stop Hydra from their plans in the past, in the present, and in the future. And when the information gets into the hands of Steve and Natasha, they could stop the project.

With James next to you, you stand in front of the people, smiling nicely. The super soldier is standing just a few inches away from you, his steel blue eyes scanning the room, his jaw clenched, and his hands into fists. You're tuning your head toward him.

"Thank you, Soldier," you mumble with the softest smile he has ever seen.

His eyes widen slightly when he looks at you; he isn't used to 'thank you's, but since he knows you, you treat him like a human. You say 'thank you' and 'please' when he protects you or when he is doing something you asked him to do. You sometimes slide your fingers over his arm, and he feels a warmth running through your body. He doesn't know why, but you're different; you're not like the other agents. You care for him, and he made his own mission to protect you. When you look into his eyes, you see more than just the cold eyes; you see them light up when he looks at you, and the way he relaxes when you touch him warms him.

"Welcome to the meeting; we have talked about a few more concepts for politics," you say.

You talk about a few things before you come to the topic where you introduce Hydra's plans to the people. Or at least as many of the things Hydra wants them to know. When James recognizes the people tensing, he immediately holds his hand in front of you, pushing you behind him. Your fingers are digging into the metal of his arm when he leads you out of the room. When you just step out of it, you hear the crashing door and broken glass behind you. You hiss softly, and James leads you out of the building and to the car for the two of you.

A tall, brown-haired man walks through the Smithsonian, his blue eyes roaming over the pictures, and he swallows harshly. He has a cap to hide himself and wears gloves and a jacket to cover his metal arm. James just remembers his best friend again; on his mission, he saw him and fought him. Bucky was confused. Why did he know the brown-haired man? And where did Bucky see the other man? So many thoughts were running through his mind. And then he was towering on top of the blonde man; he was lifting his hand, ready to punch the other man once again. But something inside of him stopped him; he couldn't, and then Steve said something that brought all of Bucky's memories back into his mind. 'I'm with you til the end of the line' he said, Bucky's eyes widening, his hand falling down, and he just stared at Steve. And then they fell, landing in the river, and Bucky helped Steve get out of the water. For a moment, he thought about staying there and making amends. But he told himself to protect you, so he needs to get you before he is going to make amends. He needs you, the person he fell for, and the person who was always soft with him and gave him love he never felt before.

Bucky knows that there is another political meeting, and he has a plan to get into it. So he makes his way slowly out of the museum and to the office building, where the meeting will be. When he gets to the building, he throws his cap, gloves, and jackets to the side, entering the building through an entrance on the back of the office. He doesn't need people to see him when he just gets into the building. Bucky walks up the stairs until he reaches the room where you're having the meeting. He waits until he hears your familiar voice, and when he does, he breathes deeply before he opens the door.

Everyone is looking at him, including you. The way your eyes light up and your plump lips form into a beautiful smile makes him feel warm and tingling inside his stomach. Your eyes widen softly. He really keeps what he said; he is there to help you. Bucky comes to get home with him, into your shared apartment, which he told you he would get.

"Come on, doll," he says with his deep voice, causing you to shiver softly.

The man next to you looks at you, his eyes narrowing, while he wants to reach for your arm. They told you they would hurt whoever you love if you dare to stop doing whatever Hydra wants from you. But the only person you really love is Bucky, and you know he can protect the two of you, and that's what he is going to do.

"Let go of her. Doll, come here."

Bucky's stern tone causes the agent to let go of your arm, and you walk over to him. When you reach him, he doesn't waste a second before he pulls you as close as possible and wraps his arms around you. You inhale his scent deeply, resting your chin on his chest, and look up at him with a smirk. He leads you out of the room, closing the door before he picks you up, and you wrap your legs immediately around his waist.

"I've missed you. But you know they will crash down soon," you say, and Bucky shrugs.

"Let me first tell you something. I love you, my precious doll. No one was soft to me all those years but you. You treated me like a human, like a normal human. And I fell for you. I love you so much," Bucky mumles.

"I love you too," you say, and Bucky leans closer.

He captures your lips with his soft, plumb ones. He slides his tongue over your bottom lip, and you part your lips softly. Bucky's hands grasp your ass, and you gasp and make Bucky chuckle. He then walks to the stairs to get both of you out of the building and to his motorcycle.

"I love your motorcycle."

"You can ride something else later, doll. Now let's go to romania there is an apartment for the two of us," Bucky says, enjoying your heated cheeks.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden

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macfrog · 8 months

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la petite mort sex on fire chapter four

bonsoir my children. it's your cool slutty daddy, ceo!joel, back for round two of paris trip. please enjoy, i hope this one causes less confusion but just as much heart failure as last chapter. love u guys long time. literally SO much. 💘✨💓

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you spend your second day in paris being spoiled by joel, who buys you anything you set eyes on. you’ve a treat of your own in mind as a thank-you, later on

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) another fucking confusing flashback, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, more obscene spending, sexy french speaking, sugardaddy!joel, BIG flirting, alcohol consumption, sexy lingerie, lapdance, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected piv sex, titty appreciation, assplay, double penetration, dom!joel, softdom!joel, ripping of expensive lingerie (rip), overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!joel, angst, themes of abandonment, fluff in the end i'm a romantic at heart

word count: 6.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first. “Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.” “Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?” “No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

The late afternoon sun has dipped behind the clouds. The wind’s picked up, too. You’re standing on the terrace of your suite, elbows propped on the metal railing, watching the light slowly drain from the sky, and melt into tiny twinkling headlights on the roads below.

Paris stares straight back at you. Melancholy, in this light. A little faded, worn, a washed gray as she loses her fight with the slow-setting sun. Your eyes trace the skyline, jumping from buildings to streetlights, following birds in the distance as they loop and soar over the city. Free. Held down to nothing, and no one.

When you close your eyes, he’s on the couch beside you. Blue-eyed stare cloudy, eyes puffy and red with tears he’s doing everything to hold back. Calling you sweetheart, telling you we can work through this. He’s got your bare fingers in his, thumbs running across your knuckles, rubbing circles around the empty space on your third finger. You have an impulse to stand up and walk out. You think you might follow through with it.

You don’t even hear him come in, don’t hear him call your name. Only feel when his arm snakes around your waist and he turns you to face him. Your eyes flutter back open.

“Hey,” Joel says, leaning back to look you up and down. “Nice robe.”

His fingers toy with the belt, thumb running across the soft terrycloth.

“You smell like whiskey,” you mutter, hands resting on his chest. You take a deep breath, pushing the relief you feel now that he’s back, down to the pit of your stomach. And then you finally look him in the eye. “How was Jean-Marc?”

Joel shrugs. “Same as usual. Wants to meet you.”

“You mentioned me?”

He bypasses your question. “Said I’d check with you, but he wants to have us for breakfast tomorrow.”

You nod. “Sounds like a nice guy.”

Joel grumbles, his lips tighten, and he looks out over the view behind you. You tilt your head and his hands take yours, dropping them to your side. His eyes fall low, past the tie he was just messing with.

“You gettin’ ready to go?”

“I was about to, yeah,” you reply, breathing a laugh when he starts to kneel in front of you. “Joel.”

“Mhm?” he asks, but he’s not listening, is he? His hands run up your legs, starting at your knees, and push the edges of your robe apart the higher they go.

“We – gotta – Joel,” you sigh, head rolling back, hands gripping the railing.

Joel’s lips part on your inner thigh, his tongue runs along your skin, trailing northward. His hands precede, pushing under your robe now to cup your naked ass, when he lifts his chin and glances up.

“Nothin’ on under it, baby,” he whispers, tsking. “’m I gonna do with you?”

“We have–” you shudder when his fingers move between your legs, “–to go get ready.”

“So go.”

Fucker.

You lean back against the glass, eyes quickly scanning the hotel in front of you, searching the neighboring windows for any prying eyes, but in the slow-moving blanket of dusk, mixed with your will to care quickly depleting, you find none.

Your attention draws back to Joel, whose lips run dangerously close to your center.

“Open, baby,” he says, and you don’t think about it. Your body just does what he tells it to.

Your legs fall open, head lulls to one side, fingers move through his hair. His jaw lowers, breath gently tickling your soft skin, and then his lips cup around your mound.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which quickly morphs into a moan, open-mouthed and broken, when Joel’s tongue sweeps over your clit.

“There,” you whisper, a little more serious than you intended, “do that – again.”

He obeys, wet tongue licking you again while his hands pull your thighs over his shoulders. Your weight shifts onto his body, back arching as he sucks on the sensitive bud.

Your hips roll, needing him a little more and a little further south. And he hears you, again. He takes a hand off of your leg, middle and ring fingers joining together to push up between your folds and inside you, dragging a whine from your lips.

“Yeah,” you moan, feeling yourself driving into his mouth and fucking yourself on his hand at the same time.

“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbles, mouth preoccupied.

Your head falls back, body slung over the balcony, thighs spreading ever so slightly to have more of him on more of you. And then your head starts to dizzy, your body hums in pleasure, your cunt starts to throb.

But before it goes any further, he’s pulling away.

His lips leave first. Then he draws his hand from between you, sucks his fingers clean and stands. Is he fucking –

“– serious?” you ask, jolting back to life.

He smirks, tongue pushing around his cheeks. “Hurry up ‘n get ready. I wanna go down to the bar for a drink before the car comes.”

And then he’s turning on his heel, striding back inside.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” he calls over his shoulder.

Your hands hit your thighs with a slap. “Fucking…sadist,” you hiss after him, following him into the warmly lit living room of your suite and down the hallway to the bedroom. Trying to ignore the ache between your legs which only grows worse the more you move.

“I’ll take good care of you later, angel.”

He sits back against the dresser at the foot of the bed, nods toward the black dress you’d laid out on the mattress an hour ago.

“Go on.”

“Go on what?”

“Show me the dress I paid three grand for on you, instead of it laying on the fuckin’ bed.”

You roll your eyes and storm by him, grabbing the black fabric, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“’n don’t you think about finishin’ yourself!” Joel calls through the door.

“Fuck you!” you throw back, hearing his cocky laugh echo around the room.

You untie your robe in front of the mirror, letting it drop off of your shoulders into a pool of white cloth at your feet. Your eyes flit down your naked body – scanning from your shoulders over your breasts, around your tummy and down your thighs. You slip the black material over your head – a little stretch in it, just enough to mold around your body – and tug it down until it sits comfortably on your thighs.

The smooth skirt sits perfectly on your hips, curving around your ass and pulling in at your waist. You adjust the thin straps, fixing your breasts into place above a cut-out, just revealing enough. Backless, of course, straps crisscrossing over your skin.

It's skimpy, and it’s sexy, and it’s enough to make you look expensive as fuck and also make Joel want to rip it off of you the second you two make it back to the suite.

Enough to make him want to rip it off you before you’ve even left the suite, going by his reaction when you step out of the bathroom. He catches you in the mirror whilst he buttons his shirt, and turns, mouth falling open, eyes dancing all across your body.

You wordlessly sit, slip your feet into the heels you’d chosen, and fish the diamond-encrusted jewelry Joel had bought you from its box – pull the necklace around your neck, clip the earrings into place, and push the bracelets over your wrist. Then, you sling your jacket over your arm, and stand.

“I’m ready.”

“You…” His eyes scan down you again, settling on your chest for a couple seconds. “Yeah, baby. Give me five minutes.”

----------

The hotel bar reflects perfectly the intimidating grandeur of your suite, despite being a small room. It’s intimate, and pleasant, lit in a warm glow, and as you stroll in on Joel’s arm beneath a huge, ornate chandelier, you feel a smile pull across your lips. You’re not fucking sure why.

He leads you over to two heavy leather stools, pulling one out and waiting for you to hop up on it before he sits beside you. He orders two glasses of red wine, and the waiter craftily pours a small drop into one glass, setting it down in front of you and waiting for you to take a sip and approve before he pours the rest.

“Pétrus,” the waiter says, focusing intently on filling Joel’s glass. “Most expensive wine in France.”

You shoot Joel a look, but he’s already lifting his glass, glint in his eye. You hesitantly pick yours up and bump it into his, taking another sip.

“Good?” Joel asks, licking his lips.

You nod. “A little too good.”

He laughs. Then he nods at the waiter, who smiles, turns to you, and winks.

You smile back, a little embarrassed. “Merci beaucoup.”

As the waiter leaves you both, Joel turns, a look on his face you’ve never seen before. “Nice accent,” he says.

You scoff. “I hope it’s a nice accent, I studied it for six years.”

“Studied French?”

You nod.

“When?”

“High school, and then all through college.”

“How did I not know that about you?”

“It’s on my resume,” you say into your wine glass, “which I now know you didn’t read when you hired me.”

“Didn’t have to,” Joel replies. “I took one look at your pretty face ‘n decided you had the job.”

Him and his quick fucking wit. He almost catches you blushing, but you save it by shaking your head, and looking at the striped-wall room around you. There’s a framed picture of a horse on the wall behind Joel. Two men sit in animated conversation on the velvet couch below it, one of them clutching a wine that’s about to spill over.

When your eyes drift back to Joel, his are fixated elsewhere.

“Oh, be less obvious, Joel,” you mutter, corners of your mouth twitching.

“Can’t help it,” he finally draws his gaze from your chest, “they look so good. That dress is…” He shakes his head.

“You chose well.”

“Say somethin’ French to me.”

“Uh, no.”

“Uh, yeah. Tell me I chose well in French.”

“Tell me how the meeting went.”

Joel sits back, pushing air out of his cheeks. “Can’t do that.”

“Then no French.”

“Baby, c’mon. Just for me.”

You shake your head, pouting your lip. “Nope.”

Joel pleads a few more times, promises he’ll buy you more things, promises he’ll order more wine, even promises he’ll fuck you in the bathroom right now if you’ll just say one sentence in French to him.

You don’t relent.

Not until you’re a couple more wines deep, leaning into one another, your knees between his, pointing out other guests in the room and conjuring make-believe backstories for them.

“That one,” you say, hushed, shoulder brushing off of Joel’s, “in the corner, by the lamp. He’s waitin’ for a date, a Tinder date, who–”

Joel snorts. “A Tinder date?”

“–a Tinder date, who used photos of Cindy Crawford on her profile.”

Joel’s head tips back with laughter, his hand steadies himself on the bar. “If Cindy Crawford ends up walkin’ in here, you’re gonna be real sorry.”

You lean into his shirt, giggling into the cotton. When you lift your head, the two of you quietening again, you look into his eyes.

Blurry around the edges, a little too much wine in your system, you whisper: “Kiss me.”

Joel’s head cocks. He leans in, and you lift your jaw. His lips part, breath hot over your red lips, and he says, “You’re gonna get us into trouble, darlin’.”

“Je m’en fous,” you reply.

“Monsieur,” a voice from your right breaks between you, “your car is outside.”

Joel straightens up, clears his throat, and thanks the waiter with another nod. His palm runs along the bar toward your arm, which he takes, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, and he nods again toward the doors.

----------

Dinner was as fucking extreme as all of this has been. Food you’d never seen before, a menu you could barely translate even with language experience. Waiters who arrived at your table if you so much as looked up at them.

And more wine. A lot more wine.

You both stumble back into the suite, arms linked, laughter chorusing against the beige walls. Joel keeps a vice grip on your hand as you spin around him, wrapping you up in his arms when you’re close enough, and runs a thumb across your cheek when you’ve stopped giggling.

“That was fun,” he says, and you nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For all of it. I don’t even know what to say.”

He shakes his head in response. “You’re my guest.”

“Didn’t have to be,” you say, “could’ve brought Martha.”

“Oh, yeah, Martha. She’d be a fuckin’ hoot.”

He lets go of you, your laughter picking back up, and you split off. Joel wanders over to the minibar, and you…you wander off down the hall.

You’ve something in mind.

Safely in the bedroom, you slink over to your case and lift the bag you’d hidden in there earlier. You sneak into the bathroom, closing the door as softly as possible, and whip your little black dress over your head. You turn back to the mirror.

Same reflection as before. Same naked body. A little faded, a little unfocused, jewelry catching the light like stars in the night sky, but the same.

You reach into the white bag, like it’s a lucky draw, and lift out the soft black lace. One by one, you add each little piece – the bra cups your breasts, lifting them just the right amount. The panties sit on your hips, garter belt just above, hooked onto thigh-high, lace top stockings. And finally, the robe.

You tie it loosely at your waist, leaving it just open enough to reveal the balconette bra underneath. One last hazy look in the mirror, and you tumble back out into the bedroom and over to the door.

Your fingers clutch the gold handle, shaking a little. The cold metal bites against your skin, hot with adrenaline and determination. You twist, pulling gently on the door, and wander back to the living room.

The lights are still out, the room dark against the sparkling cityscape. There’s soft music playing, some seventies soul stuff. He’s on the balcony. The sliding doors open wide, sheer curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. His silhouette stands black against the glittering Eiffel Tower in front of him. He’s holding a whiskey.

You slip out from behind the door and let it close over gently, walking slowly across the soft carpet toward him. He can’t have heard you, you’re being too quiet, but he turns anyway, and spots you in the middle of the room.

His eyes rake down your figure, mouth falling agape. Whiskey almost spilling over from how limp his arms fall.

“Baby…” he whispers.

You take another step forward. So does Joel. Your hand reaches for the back of one of the chairs, tucked neatly under the dining table. You drag it along the carpet, setting it just in front of you, facing him, and stand back.

“Want you to sit.”

Joel nods, a voiceless Okay sneaks past his lips, and he sits back in the chair, placing the whiskey at his feet.

The song fades into a steady love song, string orchestra echoing in the background, slow, sultry. The smooth vocals fill the room, quiet and relaxing, and push you nearer him, rounding the back of the chair.

Your hands run over Joel’s shoulders as you curve around to face him, and slot in between his parted thighs. Watching as his eyes shift up and down your figure. Watching as his breath hitches, his chest shuddering anytime you move.

You’re ignoring the rise and fall of your own chest; nerves and desire and complete fucking disbelief at what you’re doing all fighting to break through. Your stomach is flipping, pulse jerking every time your eyes cross paths with Joel’s.

You nudge his legs open wider, lift his wrists, and place his hands on your waist. His fingers pull on the silk belt, loosening your robe until he’s slipping it over your shoulders, revealing every inch of lace and strap of satin to his lust-blown eyes.

“This all for me?” he asks, fucking…wonderstruck. His fingers dance along the garter belt, dipping where it clips onto your stockings.

You cock your head in a shrug. “You paid for it.”

He smiles. As if it’s Christmas and you just gave him the gift at the top of his wish list. And then you bend your knees, lowering between his thighs and dragging your hands down his front, stopping by his stiffening crotch as you go.

Joel hisses through clenched teeth, spurring you on. You palm him through his trousers, never touching his zipper, only letting him go so far as grinding his hips into your hands, before your palms slip down to his knees and you push yourself up.

Joel meets you halfway, leans forward to let your lips ghost across his. Your back arched, knees digging into the plush carpet, you trail your tongue from his chin down his bearded jawline, stopping when you reach the collar of his shirt.

And then you stand again, taking his hands and replacing them on your body. Anywhere on your fucking body. Feeling him on you is like feeling the soothing flicker of the fire after a walk in the freezing cold, and when his palms aren’t pressing against your ribcage, his fingers aren’t running between your thighs, that bitter cold bites back.

Joel hums, still taking you in through glassy eyes. “So…fuckin’ beautiful, babygirl.”

In response, you lift your knees, placing them one by one on either side of his hips. You settle against his body and push him back in the chair.

Your clothed heat lowers onto his waist, lace running across the rough fabric of his trousers, forcing a choked moan from your lips at the contact. Your skin alight, nerves burning with excitement and arousal, the slightest touch only fuels the fire more.

You grind down on him, hips rocking in time with the music. Letting his hands hold you around your back, letting him feel any part of you he fucking wants. His fingers knead roughly into your round ass, and he bucks up against your core.

You hover over him, running a hand from your stomach over your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits through your bra. And then back down again, to slip over the lace of your panties and relieve the tension there even if only for a second before you’re feeling down your thighs.

You link your arms back around Joel’s shoulders. “You gonna pay me back?” you whisper, head lowering to bury into his neck.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he slurs back.

You suck a mark into the hot skin, breathing against his pulse, “Think you do, daddy. You owe me one.”

His head rolls, bass of his laughter vibrating against your lips. “So fuckin’ slutty, darlin’. You want it that bad?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, lips still tight against his neck, fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt lower and lower.

Joel told Martha he needed you here only to keep him right. Make sure he got everywhere on time, make sure things ran smoothly. Drop off drycleaning, pick it up before he had appearances. Get him pastries from that patisserie he loves around the corner for breakfast. There’s an empty suite downstairs that he made her book for you – an almost three grand per night suite that you both knew the entire fucking time you’d never set foot in. All to keep up with the story.

The story that you’re here strictly on PA duty. Seeing him off in cars, making sure he gets back to the hotel at night. And that’s it. Not buying lingerie with his card, and putting it on for him, and mounting him in the living room of his suite. Not letting him slip your panties to the side and run his cock through your folds, balcony doors wide open, moans escaping out into the late Parisian night.

But now his hands are on you, really on you; strong, wide hands, slipping around your waist, pressing down on the lace of your lingerie, massaging the softest parts of your body and scooping under your ass to align you to his length.

And you’re letting him.

Your hands are sifting through his hair as he breathes you in, his nose buried between your breasts. Your back arches when he finally enters you, giving you what you need most in the form of his thick cock pushing up into your warm cunt.

Like there’s nothing new, or weird, or different. Like this is all you know how to do; all you’ve ever known about him. You’re not in the office; he’s not your boss. He doesn’t tell you to shred files or organize his schedule.

This is what he does. This. He asks things of you with his hands and you fold every time. He runs his lips along the curve of your breasts and peels the delicate fabric of your bra down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, flick his tongue across it until your head rolls back and you’re moaning his name to the ceiling.

“Make yourself cum, baby,” Joel breathes against your hot skin.

His tongue is swirling around your nipple. Teeth grazing the pointed bud. He’s grinning to himself as he does it. He’s fucking lapping this up.

“So pretty when you’re wrapped around me.”

And then his fingers are toying with the clasp of your bra, and as you sink down over and over on his cock, he lets the cupped lace fall to the floor, lips instantly returning to their place on your tits.

You hold his head there, looking down and watching while you slowly bounce on his cock as he kisses, caresses, sucks.

The pleasure boiling between your legs starts to spill over, your body unable to take much more without releasing. And when Joel mumbles against your skin, “Can feel you, darlin’, squeezing me so tight,” you let go.

Your orgasm, nearly four hours in the making, rocks through your body in tidal waves, throwing your head back. Joel’s arms keep you safe on his lap as you writhe, gasping and moaning his name until you can think straight again.

When you come back to, he lifts you up. Carries you like you’re made of diamonds through to the bedroom and lays you down on the soft mattress, calling you angel, telling you you’re the prettiest fuckin’ girl he’s ever seen.

He dips his fingers and traces them along your panties, feeling the mess you just made, humming in amusement. He asks again if this is all for him and when you moan out a desperate Yeah, daddy, he tells you he’s gonna make you cum again.

He takes your waist and flips you over, propping you up on your knees in front of him. He peels the white shirt from his shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the dark room, and asks if that’s what you want – to cum again. Yeah, daddy.

And when he asks who this tight little pussy belongs to, leaning forward to align with your wet mess of a cunt, your thighs spreading to accommodate the size of him, every fucking nerve in your body on fire: You, daddy.

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first.

“Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.”

“Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?”

“No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

Every fucking time. Every mindless, depraved time, you do it for him. Only for him.

You cum again on his cock before he’s even five thrusts in. His words send you hurtling over the edge by themselves; the massive dick burying itself between your legs is just a bonus – and something to let your walls clamp around when your back arches, chest pushes into the mattress, and your orgasm floods over you.

Joel rocks his hips slowly as you come down, cunt swollen and almost agony. His hands run from your thighs up around the globe of your ass, massaging gently. You push back, wanting more pressure from his hands, and his fingers slip against your tight hole.

You jut forward with a moan. A moan Joel knows all too well.

“Easy, easy.” He holds you steady, replacing his fingers against your asshole, pressing delicately. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” you breathe, “mhm.”

“Yeah?”

You’re nodding, though you know he can’t see you in the dark.

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” you choke out. Desperate. Depraved.

He lifts his hand and spits; you feel a bead of saliva dribble down your ass, only to be collected by the pads of his fingertips and dragged back up. Smeared over the ring of your ass, massaged into the sensitive skin around it.

“Daddy…” you moan, hips gyrating.

“’s a good girl,” Joel replies, “just relax, darlin’, you do that for me?”

You can hear in his voice he’s focusing. Eyes glued on your ass, watching as you open up around his first finger, pushing slowly inside.

Your whole body freezes as he enters you. Breath cuts short in your throat. Your mouth falls open, throat constricted around a moan.

“Breathe, babygirl.”

And you do. Well, it’s more of a gasp, a broken whine, and then a long, needy sigh, curled up at the end like it’s a request – a plea for Joel to keep going.

It’s tight. It feels…tender, and overwhelming, and good. More than good. Your hips move backward, pushing onto Joel; a swelling feeling overcoming you, the more of him you take.

“Good girl…” he whispers again.

You’re as fucking shocked as he is that you’re letting him do it – letting him slip inside both holes at once, exploring one while keeping the other content with lazy thrusts.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

“Yeah, daddy,” you tell him, body urging him to fuck you again.

So, he does. His cock picks up speed, finger knuckle-deep, curling around inside your ass. You’re gripping the bedsheets, whimpering softly into them, feeling your stomach tighten as your third orgasm begins to rise.

“Keep – doing – that,” you utter as his hips collide with yours, his thick finger picking up pace ever so slightly.

“Such a dirty girl. So fuckin’ dirty for me. You do this for all of ‘em, baby?”

The laugh you breathe answers his question. No, you don’t fucking do this – for anyone. You didn’t know until five minutes ago this was something you were into. It’s Joel. He’s the only one who could convince you – whether through his words, his expressions, or just his fucking body – to –

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Know you are, pretty girl,” Joel says, “let me feel you. Cum all over me.”

Your body collapses when your high takes over. Electricity thrumming through you, contracting around Joel’s cock and his finger. He coos you through it, whispers words of praise and filth in your ear until you’re no longer screaming, no longer able to hold yourself up.

He slowly removes his finger, soaked with his spit. You whine as it leaves you, missing the feeling, but it’s not long before his hands are on you again, flipping you back over.

He drags the clothes from his legs and pushes you up the mattress, slotting between your hips, one hand coming down to grip the lace front of your panties. He rips it, tearing the material off of your body in one motion.

You gasp, equal parts aroused as you are fucking outraged. You liked those panties. You wanted to keep ‘em.

“Fuck, Joel!”

He pushes back against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to dot kisses along your skin.

“Buy you more, baby.”

“This whole getup,” you moan, “it cost you a grand.”

He lifts his head. “Well, in that case,” he kisses your collarbone, “buy you ten more.”

Your eyes roll back and your head follows, sinking deep into the sheets under your body. You’re sure you know where this is going, what he’s about to ask of you. You’re not sure you can give it to him. Three orgasms deep, you can barely feel when he’s massaging your sex, never mind lining his cock to it and pushing the tip inside.

“One more, angel,” he utters, looking down to guide himself through your glistening folds. “Just one more.”

“Can’t, daddy,” you whimper, but he pushes your thighs up, bending your knees. It’s borderline painful, the stretch you feel when he’s barely an inch inside.

“Yes, you can. Know you can.”

He could fuck you and cum himself without asking you to – and you’d be okay with it. You know it. He knows it. Just a few tight, wet thrusts and he’d be coming undone inside you. But he wants to do it together. Loves the way you feel when you tighten around him, squeeze him, draw his release out of him. Loves the way your voices sound together, the way you grip onto him and pull him flush against your body.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, too. The way he looks when he’s deep inside you, eyes shut, focused on nothing except the pretty noises you make and the sweet way you wrap around him, warm and snug. So you let him take you to the edge again, throw your arms around him, and fall.

Hard.

The shock of it surges through you, stars burst across your vision. You drive your nails into his shoulders, scream out into the night, moans mixed with curses and gasps and – fuck it – cries of daddy loud enough that the thought of a noise complaint at your door floats through your mind.

Joel lets out a deep groan when he cums, filling your tight cunt with his seed, face still buried in your neck. Your legs untense, thighs slip down his waist and onto the bed, your arms unlink from around his neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your skin.

You’re panting, chest lifting against Joel’s. He pushes into the mattress and rolls off of you, dropping in a heap to the bed at your side. You lay like that for a while, waiting for the fluttering feeling to subside, waiting for any feeling to come back to your body.

Joel pushes off of the bed and dips into the bathroom, still groaning anytime he moves. Water runs for a couple minutes, a gentle whirring as he cools his face and washes up, and then he’s back in the bedroom, sinking into the bed beside you.

He props himself up on his elbow and runs a hand across your damp forehead, unsticking your hair from your face. Intimate, vulnerable. You’ve slept together four times now, and this is the closest you’ve felt to him.

You push down an ache, different to the one he just satisfied – four times over. No, this is deeper. Somewhere more hidden. An ache for him to hold you, run his hands down your back until your body feels like yours again. An ache for him to take you in his strong arms and keep you still, keep you steady.

An ache that feels…dangerous. An ache you want to disappear. Now.

“You okay?” Joel asks, and you nod.

He studies you for a while, looking up and down your body, smiling to himself. This isn’t something either of you are going to forget for a while.

“What’s this?”

Joel takes gentle hold of the gold chain around your sweat-glistening neck, running it between his fingers until he’s holding one half of a broken heart.

“Notice you wearin’ it all the time.”

You take a deep breath before replying, watching as he looks at it intently in his hand. “My mom has the other half. It makes up a heart. We got ‘em when I was sixteen, right after…”

Joel’s eyes drift up to yours when your sentence crumbles. His soft gaze encourages you to continue.

“…right after my dad left.”

He almost winces.

You’d always hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays meant Math, and Math meant two hours of sitting in total confusion, dodging your teacher’s requests for answers and counting down the minutes until class ended.

But your dad told you that you should do well in it, so you were trying. For him.

One Wednesday, Miss Pepperman handed out the results of the previous week’s test. You’d scored well, maybe not as good as some of the others, but decent by your own standards. You snuck the test paper into your bag to take back home, show your dad. Make him…proud.

When you rounded the corner to your street, his car was in the drive, trunk wide open. Suitcases inside. You caught him leaving as you wandered by the beat-up Toyota.

Your mom wants you in the house, he’d said, a cardboard box of files in his clutches.

You tried to ask what the fuck was going on, but he’d yelled at you and thrown the box into his back seat. And then you brought up the test paper, twisted around to fish it out of your bag, like some stupid C would convince him to stay. He yelled louder, and you disappeared inside like a spooked cat.

Your mom was on the couch, face in her hands. She lifted her head, cheeks stained with mascara and tears. As you sat down beside her, you heard the engine of his car roll away. You never saw him again.

You don’t tell Joel all of this. He doesn’t need to know, and he doesn’t ask. Telling him about the C in Math risks telling him about the way your dad looked at you when you held up the crumpled paper, and that risks telling him about everything you’ve ever held back from saying to anyone, for fear of seeing that same bored, disappointed expression.

It feels like a hand you’re not quite ready to play just yet. An ace or two missing, only a couple of cards off of feeling confident enough to show him.

Instead, you shrug, and say, “That was…thirteen years ago now. And we just never take ‘em off. It’s like our little promise to, like…stay together, or whatever.”

He nods, letting the necklace rest back on your naked chest.

There’s something in the air between you. Quiet, unassuming. An understanding, though you’re not sure what of. But it feels comfortable, which you weren’t expecting when he asked the question. Nobody knows much about you and your dad – not even your closest friends. And here you are, naked and exhausted, letting the words tumble out to none other than your boss.

But he’s so blasé about it, so unperturbed by it that, if he hadn’t been the one to ask himself, you could mistake it for disinterest. He just listens, nods, and lets it pass over. Lets you drop it, when you’re done talking about it.

For the second time tonight, this time a little more sober but a little less guarded, you say, “Kiss me.”

And this time, he doesn’t ask you to speak French. Doesn’t make any witty quip, doesn’t warn you you’re walking dangerous territory. Doesn’t even hesitate, not for a beat. Just leans in, cups your cheek with one hand, and presses his lips to yours.

Warm, sweaty, almost quivering lips. Soft, and kind, and safe. You melt into him, wrapping both hands around his wrist, shutting your eyes and pretending just for a moment that you’re not teetering along a knife edge right now.

You pull back, losing your balance on the tightrope you’re walking, and Joel’s hand slowly drops from your face. His eyes ask if you’re okay, and you nod. I’m fine. This is fine.

“Alright,” he says, sitting up with a sigh. “You want a drink?”

You nod again. “Water, please.”

He strokes your thigh once and walks out of the room, leaving you in the quiet dark by yourself.

You bring your fingertips up to your eyes. Exhale deeply into the palms of your hands. Think about what just happened, and then tell yourself not to think much about it. Think about that fucking twinge in the bottom of your stomach, the one that felt like…yearning. And then tell yourself, fucking – order yourself not to read too much into it, or you’ll drive yourself up the wall.

Because the truth of it is: you’ve one more full day in Paris, and you highly suspect that what happened here tonight, is gonna happen all over again tomorrow. And that leaves room for that yearning feeling to come back. Resurface, like a silent predator in murky waters.

That won’t happen tomorrow. It can’t happen tomorrow.

You stand and throw that white terrycloth robe over yourself, heading for the living room.

----------

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dante-mightdie · 5 months

Note

Trailing off of dragon!price, princess!reader, and knight!gaz, why not add blacksmith!soap, and bandit!ghost ;))

Blacksmith!soap gets snatched by price the second he sees how beautiful his delicate metal works are, already daydreaming of his little pets in nothing but thin chains worth more than the average cost of a fine-breed horse,

Soap trys his hardest to fight against the territorial dragon, but once price decides he like something it's his, and he never lets go of what he instinctively knows is only his possession ;)

Bandit!Ghost and absolute thrill seeker of a theif, has stolen from the so called impossible, and Price's treasure is his next target and easy win, or so he thinks,

He gets rather far, filling a rough linen sack with valuables thousands of years old, and he almost gets away with it except for one small mistake, he spookes pretty princess reader and though he immediately muffled their growls and yells with a burly hand, the sound you did let out is enough to send price hot on your tail, and just like the rest ghost is scooped up unwillingly into the fold of price's wing like a mangy stray.

And believe me Ghost bites and thrashes trying every trick in the book, but price likes the sad/angry puppy look in his eyes and once again has picked up another stray for his hoard,

The first time all of price's hoard fuck together is during price's rut when he's absolutely insatiable and without tagging each other out, a couple of them woul definitely get severe dehydration among other things, not too say they all aren't a bunch of submissive puddles after being used by price,

All passed out in Price's warm silk nest, tucked under his wing, this is when price knows he's picked the perfect little pets to entertain him :))

Much love Sin <3

(p.s. praying Tumblr just ate the other puppy req I send in, and if you were in anyway uncomfortable with it don't hesitate to send me a dm about it :P)

not lost i just wanted didn't check my inbox until i finished work :)

content warning: dub-con, smut

price getting johnny to make pretty swords for his pretty knight! dull, of course. can't risk one of his pets hurting themselves!

gets you all matching velvet pillows so you dont scuff your knees when you kneel at his feet. makes him feel powerful. makes him feel in charge

and he is in charge, believe you me. only he could bring 3 big strong and a spoilt princess to their knees. turn them into moaning messes as he overstimulates them. soft rumbling purrs filling the dense cave when he reduces you to a whimpering puddle as you snuggle into him, desperate for aftercare from this grumpy ol' dragon...

I think he'd have a temper. start destroying things from his stash when one of you pisses him off, yelling at you and huffing fire from his nose whilst you and the rest of his hoard cower from him in the corner :(

it is nice having the boys around. it was dreadfully boring in the cave whenever price would go into hibernation, leaving you all alone to snoop through his belongings to find things to keep you busy

but now you have your boys to keep you entertained :) passing you around and taking their turn with you. simon wasting no time in throwing the pretty village princess onto her knees and having his way with you

his hard, thick cock drilling into your sopping hole, stretching you open as you squeal and bite down on your pillow to avoid waking price. listening to him tell you how he can't wait to escape this dragon and tell everyone that the village princess is really the village whore :(

soap goes next, telling himself that there's no reason why he shouldn't get to have his turn next. except he's a little nicer than simon, kneeling between your legs and lapping at your sore cunt :( spitting on it to keep you nice and wet as he slips his cock in you

fucking simon's load back inside your cunt and making the sloppy sound of him drilling into you echo throughout the cave, slinging your legs over his shoulder and forcing you into a mating-press

and lovely gaz :( who feels so bad about defiling the princess he swore to rescue but you just looked so pretty creaming around soap and simon's cock, tears slipping down your cheeks as you cum for the millionth time :(

goes in with the guise of comforting you before slipping his fingers down to drag between your sopping folds. kissing your forehead and cooing at you as he sits you on his cock, grabbing your hips and bouncing you in his lap

shushing you when price stirs in his slumber due to your loud squeals and cries. dumping another load in you before dropping you down next to price, letting the older man wrap his wings around you as he snores soundly <3

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signedkoko · 2 months

Note

GOSH, all your writings make me feel all bouncy and giddy I swear AaaAAAA

Feeling slightly inspired by your previous Lucifer and Lilith with a reader who ends up attacked, might I request a Vox X Reader, where while they're both out together, Reader notices someone apparently brave enough to attack Vox and just- autopilot takes the hit to protect him? Turns out afterwords it wasn't an Angelic weapon of any kind, so even though it's nasty and painful, they'll ultimately be okay...

But did Reader KNOW that? Nope. Could Vox have probably handled it himself with how powerful he is? Yep. Did either one of those thoughts even cross Reader's mind until after? NOPE.

Reader just saw harm approaching the one they love so much and just went into instant protect mode...

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which someone attempts an attack on Vox, but you decide to get in the way. Reader is genderneutral.

It was just another press conference, the same as all the others

VoxTek had a new announcement, and reporters flocked to be the ones with the most interesting story or the first, whichever got them more praise from their lousy boss

Both the CEO and spokesperson, Vox insisted on being the face everyone knew and saw, as well as the voice they all followed

You were a not-so-recent addition to his empire, and some cameras were sure to catch a frame or two of you as you waited on the side, smiling and waving to the crowd

You were only here because it made Vox happy and because you would rather be seen than not

VoxTek had some of the highest security, with mostly Vox himself watching over everything

You always wondered how he could keep track of so many tasks at once

But the screams of everyone sounded different, less like a thousand questions and more like terror, incomprehensible yells as someone broke through the crowd

They had a gun; it looked white and gold, you weren't sure if Vox hadn't noticed or didn't care

All you knew was that your body moved, and suddenly you were between the bullet and fov when it pierced right into your side

The space cleared of voices before one of the bodyguards tackled the man and wrestled the gun from his grip

While you stood there, clutching your abdomen, the lava-like pain burst through your abdomen

Before Vox could react, flashes began again, most of the crowd recognizing the occurrence or snapping photos of you stood there, still in shock from the shot

What did you expect from demons? They'd win a bonus if they caught the first image of you being shot

Before you can think much of it, Vox is running, carrying you, and applying pressure with his hand and yours over the bullet hole

Thank god the press release was in the Vees tower, he's laid you on a counter in the lobby, his jacket bunched up under your head and his claws tearing through your shirt to access the wound

There's no time for a hospital; besides, he knows everything, he can be the best doctor in the world in a second, and he's going to be if it means helping you

" Thank go- "

" Thank god what! I could take that shot! Shut up! "

You decide to listen because, well, you can barely speak through gritted teeth

He's calling Val to come down and bring any kind of anaesthetic.

He's able to fix you up more than enough, but just to be safe, he's called in his private doctor to come take a look at you

Once everything has calmed down and you're back upstairs with Vox, he's got a million different questions

Why? I mean, he could take a bullet with ease! hes moslty metal, everything can be replaced!

Even worse if you really thought it was an angel weapon, because that would have absolutely killed you!

" It's not like I had time to think, Vox. I just moved! "

He's frustrated that you'd ever be in harm's way, but it's hard for him to stay mad knowing you just wanted to protect him

Author's Note - I wasn't sure if I should go for an angst or romantic note on this one, but I felt a little humour coping was more like Vox so I went for romantic! Thank you for requesting 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox #vox x reader

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thepenultimateword · 3 months

Text

Sugar and Spice

Henchman dusted the flour off his hands and gave the spiced apple mixture a quick stir. Looked like the juices were releasing nicely with the sugar. This should be a perfectly gooey filling once he finished the crust.

He set out the first pie pan and had just picked up the dough when the double kitchen doors shrieked open. "Henchman, you're needed in the weapons room for cleaning."

Henchman barely gave Other Villain a glance. "Um...no?"

"Excuse me?"

He pressed the pie dough into the pan and took up a knife to trim the excess. "I'm supposed to finish 12 pies before dinner. If I leave the kitchen, I won't meet my deadline. Besides, weapons isn't my department."

"You're department is doing what you're told."

"And if Supervillain doesn't get his pies for the dinner tonight are you going to take responsibility?"

Other Villain's whole body quivered, and the next sentences came out through gritted teeth as if holding herself back from exploding. With her combustion abilities, she just might be. "The weapon's combat team failed another mission. They've been entirely dispatched. If you don't want to follow in their footsteps, I suggest you listen to your superior before I report you for insubordination."

Henchman sighed heavily but set aside the trimmed crust and ran his hands under the sink faucet, scalding away all the crusted flour. He hated it when people pulled the "villain" card. As if the title meant anything more than their abilities being active rather than passive. But until big bosses like Supervillain stopped treating combat abilities as the bar for worth, Henchman couldn't do much about the system's power dynamics. "Can I expect help? I can't spare more than an hour."

Other Villain gave a self-satisfied smile, quickly followed by an annoyed glance at Henchman. "I'll attempt to siphon help from a few other departments, but it may take some time."

Henchman sighed again. "Of course." He placed the bowl of apples in the fridge, pulling his apron over his head and hanging it on the wall hook on his way out the door.

Luckily, all the dough and the fillings were finished, and the oven could fit several pans at a time. He didn't have much faith in Other Villain finding him help--she'd always looked down on the culinary department's contribution even while happily scarfing down booster gelatin before each training session--but perhaps if he gave the weapons room the bare minimum he could make it back before dinner.

That hope disappeared as soon as he entered the weapons room. It was like no one had cleaned it once since the organization was established. Pockmarked targets and half-crushed practice dummies strewed the room. Weapons stuck into walls or laid discarded on the floor. Some were even dispersed throughout the tiered seating area. Henchman scooped up a scimitar by its hilt. Tsking as he twirled it in his hand. They didn't even properly clean--Was that blood?

Henchman dropped the weapon with a loud clatter. His insides chilled as he took in the rust-colored flecks spattering the flat of the blade. Not so much like a weapon that had met flesh as one that had tasted the aftermath of its owner's demise before it could even defend them. Similarly colored smears decorated the walls and flooring.

Other Villain's comment about the latest weapons team's fate rang through Henchman's mind, and suddenly the mess didn't seem so much their fault. Henchman didn't want to think about what actually went down here, and even if he did he shouldn't dare.

Ok, Henchman. Get in, get out, bake your pies.

First thing first, collect all the weapons dispersed throughout the room. Henchman picked up a pair of spears, wrenching one out of a thick practice mat with a spray of foam. He sighed. More mess.

He threw down the spears against the wall and moved for a half-crumpled metal shield. Did Supervillain come personally? No, don't think. That wasn't his job. As much as he hated Other Villain's attitude, she wasn't entirely wrong. His job was to do what he was told, with as little inquiry as possible.

He found an empty quiver at the top of the bleachers, the arrows scattered in tiny pieces among the seats. He'd have to get a broom for those later. But where was the bow? He ducked down to peer under benches but other than a snapped bow string and some close-up splatter that was definitely blood, he found nothing. Maybe it got thrown to the bottom when Supervillain...did what Supervillain did to "parasites."

Henchman skipped the steps two at a time, picking up a dagger teetering haphazardly over the edge of a bench along the way. He jumped down to the training mat with a loud POFF! Loud enough that he didn't notice the sound of the door opening until the flame-haired figure was almost right in front of him. Her hair was pulled into its usual thick braid crown, wound and wound like an endless coil of rope. Meanwhile, she stood on edge, a dog ready to attack, double-colored eyes flicking rabidly around the room. Finding Henchman the room's sole occupant, they eventually settled hungrily on him.

Henchman's heart skipped a beat, clutching the dagger in both hands, tip down, in front of them. "Sir? Er, Ma'am? Villain?"

The green eye looked ready to skin him, while the brown one spun webs of thought.

"Did...Other Villain send you?" Henchman could cringe at the ridiculous question, Villain outranked Other Villain by about a quadrillion stations, but he couldn't think of any other reason why she would be here.

"You're a henchman, right?" she said.

"Um...yes?"

Her gaze flicked to the dagger in his hands, and she turned on heel back toward the door. "Come with me."

Henchman blinked. What was up with villains being bossy today? Well, he took pissing off Villain much more seriously than Other Villain. Maybe she had further instructions for dealing with this mess. Or maybe he wasn't supposed to see this mess, and she'd been sent to deal with him. In any case, he couldn't say no, so he trailed numbly after her into the hall.

She didn't stop there, leading him around several bends, all the way to the stairwell, and down several flights of stairs. When they emerged they were on ground level.

Henchman scrambled to keep up with her stride out the door and into the parking lot. "Um, eminence," Henchman panted, finally remembering the correct title, "do you need help carrying some things upstairs? I could call you a couple runners if you need."

Villain popped open the passenger door to a steel blue coupe. "Get in."

Henchman obeyed on instinct. "Um--"

Villain closed the door on his question, circling around the front of the vehicle and sliding into the driver's seat. She jammed the keys into the ignition and roared the engine to life.

"Wait, are we leaving?" Henchman exclaimed, jolting out of his dronish obedience. Cleaning the weapons room was one thing, but leaving the building to who knew where was another. He really didn't want to be killed for completing neither of his responsibilities today.

"We have somewhere to be," Villain said, eyes fixed straight ahead as she wove through the lot. As she turned out on the main road, the car went from 10 to 100 in a matter of seconds. "A mission."

"But I have work!" Henchman yelped, the acceleration pressing his back into the warm leather seat.

"Not anymore."

"But Supervillain--"

"Has different orders."

Henchman tried to unravel that statement. Supervillain had never wanted him on a mission. This had to be some sort of mistake.

"You're sure?" he said. "Supervillain wants me to go with you?

"Yep."

"Because you kind of made it seem like you didn't know who I was?"

"I don't, I'm working off descriptions."

"Henchman?" Henchman offered. "Did he say Henchman?"

Villain lifted one hand off the wheel, pointing at him with a little knowing tongue click. "That's the one. You're my support."

"Oh." Henchman took a few quiet moments to swallow that. Support made more sense. Maybe this was some sort of away mission. Henchman's bakes didn't pack as much oomph when they were stale, so maybe Supervillain had sent him along for optimum power. It must be something really important if that were the case. But then why didn't anyone inform him? Did Other Villain send him to the weapons room out of spite, hoping he wouldn't be told in time? "What's the mission?"

"Hero agency infiltration. One of the big ones. We're going to have fake identities, safe houses, everything."

Henchman frowned. That sounded like a mission with lots of planning involved, not a spur-of-the-moment run-out-the-door sort of thing. "Is it far?"

"Very far." Villain turned sharply onto the highway's entry ramp. "And top secret. So you can't call anyone."

Henchman's insides twisted. He didn't get this far in a villain organization without being able to feel when something was off. But he also didn't get this far by asking too many questions.

"Ok."

Villain didn't say anymore after that. Henchman half pondered asking if he should turn on some music but decided against it. He leaned his head back against the seat rest, taking in the rumble of the engine and the muffled whip of the wind along either side of the car's sleek body. Villain breathed from her side of the car, but he tried not to think to hard about that. He'd barely interacted with her more than a handful of times, and only ever in passing or with a group. None of which he expected her to remember. Supervillain knew who he was because he knew how to utilize him. Villain didn't need to know any of that to do her job, which was to be the most lethal weapon in Supervillain's arsenal.

Henchman struggled against heavy eyelids, the soothing glide of the car and the exhaustion of the day hitting him all at once. He'd been prepping those pies for hours before Other Villain interrupted him. The apples were going to go bad if he wasn't back in a couple days. He couldn't even call one of the other chefs to finish them for him with this no-call rule, not that they'd have full effect without him doing each step anyway.

He yawned widely.

What sort of things...did Villain...like...?

Henchman didn't remember dozing off, but when he came to, the sky was dark and his face was pressed up against his window.

"I'm going to make you clean that glass," Villain said.

Henchman raised his head drowsily, squinting at the drool smear for several long seconds before shooting up completely straight in his seat.

"I'm sorry!"

Villain rolled her eyes. "You don't need to grovel about it." She pushed open her door and stepped out into the night. "Anyway, we're here."

"Here?" Henchman said, quickly getting out after her.

Villain nodded at the building with its glowing red overhead sign: Azure Inn. "Hotel."

"This is our safe house?"

"This is on the way to the safe house," Villain said, then shooting him a glare. "Stop asking so many questions."

Henchman bit his lip to stop from asking how much further they had to go tomorrow or where they even were now. He simply trailed her into the office as she purchased their room--two twin beds--and then continued after her to room 109.

Everything was blue. Curtains, bedspreads, carpets; it was no wonder how the hotel got its name.

Villain headed straight into the bathroom and Henchman plopped down on one blue bed stretching his long legs to the end with a soft groan as his thoughts wandered once again to the kitchen. This time to the pie dough, sitting in the open air in its tin. It was probably dry by now. His eyes flicked to the wall clock. 12:20 a.m. Supervillain's dinner was over by now too. How did they manage?

The bathroom door creaked, and Villain stepped into the main room, long hair loosed on her shoulders, framing her face in a thick, kinked mane.

Henchman's heart skipped a stupid beat.

As if hearing it, Villain's eyes whirled in his direction, pinning him to the mattress like finely whetted blades. "What are you doing?"

Henchman slowly pushed himself upright."Going...to bed?"

"You're support; you need to keep watch."

"For what?"

"For heroes, moron!" she snapped.

Henchman flinched. "Oh. Right. Um. They know we're coming?"

Villain stormed across the room, yanking back the covers and throwing herself violently onto her mattress. “We don't know, but it's better to be safe than sorry. You already slept in the car, so just stay awake until morning.”

“Right.” Henchman watched Villain snuggle beneath the covers locks of hair fanning like licking flame across her pillow. He cleared his throat. "One more question."

Villain sighed. "What?"

"What do you expect me to do if a hero does show up?”

“Fight them?” she said in a tone that reeked of suspicion that Henchman might actually be stupid.

“Ha, yes, that would seem obvious,” Henchman replied, attitude sneaking into his own tone. “If I knew how.”

Villain shot upright. “What?”

“Combat isn’t my speciality.”

“But you’re a combat henchman!”

Henchman furrowed his brow. “Nooo.”

"What do you mean? You were in the weapons room!”

"Yeah, because Supervillain killed them all! And apparently there was no one else around to clean up the mess!”

“He…?” Villain drew up her knees, leaning her elbows on the caps and rubbing her thumbs hard into her temples. “No, no, no, no. He’s further ahead than I thought. Has he already…? No. Maybe…”

“Villain?”

She jerked her head sharply toward him. "What do you do?"

Henchman wet his lips, the sheer contrast of Villain’s expectations, of this entire mistake, hitting him all at once. He looked down at the mattress sheepishly. “I bake."

Part Two

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindonessy @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @kurai-hono-blog

#villain x henchman #villain x villain #creative writing #hero x villain #heroes and villains #heroes and villains community #writblr #writing snippet #villain #fiction #writers of tumblr #hero x villain community

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stuckymonkey · 8 months

Text

Stolen

Mafia Bucky Au

Pairing - mafia!bucky x fem!reader

Summary - y/n lived an ordinary life as a surgical resident in New York. Her father left when she was young, and her mother recently passed away. Bucky was promised by her father to get his firstborn daughter, unfortunately for y/n, that fits her description perfectly. Kind of enemies to lovers.

Warnings - violence, angst, being taken against will/kidnapping, mentions of death, stitches and medical things, mentions of suicide, mild cursing

Word count - 3.5k

a/n - i was feeling some angst, let me know what you think! feedback is always appreciated!

masterlist bucky masterlist

"Clamp" Joe said from across to table to one of the scrub nurses. "Lap pads" I said. We were doing a coronary artery bypass graft on a six year old patient. Five hours in and Lena was doing really well. She had maintained stability the entire time, making recovery look good for her.

I was about to irrigate when the door to the OR burst open. Me and Joe didn't look up, too focused on finishing Lena's cabg, starting to close up her heart with delicate sutures. "Y/n Y/L/N?" a low masculine voice boomed out. My head shot up to meet Joe's eyes, silently asking what to do. Her eyes were almost as wide as mine.

That voice belonged to James Barnes, head of the Brooklyn mafia. They had access to anywhere and everywhere in Brooklyn, no questions asked.

After having a silent conversation, we both opted to go back to Lena's heart. The voice boomed again, this time louder and much closer. "Y/n, scrub out." Joe whispered. I couldn't scrub out. Not now. Not while it was just me and Joe with a few scrub nurses. She couldn't close alone. "No." I kept suturing, almost to the point where we could start to close up entirely. "What?!" her head jerked up "I said no. You can't close on your own. Lena has been my patient for six months. I know everything about her, and her family. I am finishing this surgery with you and I will be there when they see their baby girl for the first time in six hours." I clipped the last suture, ready to close up her chest. "Y/n, I think you should listen to Joe and scrub out."

I suddenly felt cold metal pressed to my temple. "Put the tools down Y/L/N. I'm not afraid to pull this trigger." I heard the click of a bullet sliding into place at the end of his threat. I was shaking with tears running down my cheeks at this point. "I'm sorry," I said to Joe, it was obvious that I was crying. Through blurry eyes, I saw a tear slide down her cheek too.

What was going to happen to Lena? And her family? What would Joe tell them? I stepped back from the table and let Mike, my favourite nurse, help me take off my gown and relieve my trembling hands from my sterile blue gloves.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn't go back to that table. By pressing a gun to my head, James had broken the sterile field. "Well done," James spoke lowly into my ear. I hadn't noticed when, but his hand was wrapped securely around my arm. He led me away from the table, out of the OR and into the hallway where he stood in front of the elevator. The entire time my sobs never ceased and neither did the grip he had on my arm.

He let go before we left the elevator. Outside, many of what were probably his men waited for us. They lined the hallways. I felt like a sheep being herded by big, powerful, scary wolves. Tears were still running down my face as I made eye contact with my Chief of Surgery and Resident Chief. I had grown close with them over the years, and now they were watching me be escorted out of the hospital.

They knew what this meant. I was taken. The mafia had me now. Tears ran down their faces, and the faces of my coworkers who I loved like family. I tried to keep my head up to let them know I would be okay, but I couldn't help the way my shoulder shook from my sobs.

James helped me into a black car. In the front seat was a blonde, with a driver who had dark skin and short hair. I didn't try to hide the fact that I wanted to be anywhere but here. I felt exhausted, more emotionally than mentally.

"Where are we going?" I asked. "Home." James said, adjusting the cuff of his dress shirt. "I hate you, James Barnes." I said, defeat laced in my tone. "Please, call me Bucky." he said. He sounded sad. That bastard. How did he have the nerve to be sad when he is the one who chose to steal me out of my OR. "What are you going to do when I kill myself?" I asked. "You won't kill yourself." the driver spoke up. "Sam-" the blonde said in a nervous and warning tone.

"She won't." he said, looking at the blonde. "You're y/n y/l/n. You're a surgeon." he said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. Everyone's attention was on him as he refocused on the road. "You saved my sister's life, Sarah Wilson. Pancreatic cancer. Four hours after being in your OR she was cancer free. We were told to start planning her funeral. I was signing paperwork to legally adopt my nephews, but you saved her life." he looked into the rearview mirror at me again. "Thank you."

We arrived at "home". During the long ride to the outskirts of Brooklyn, I learned that the blonde's name is Steve. He and Sam were Bucky's seconds in command. Steve helped with the dirty stuff like interrogations, and dealing with orders and shipments of weapons. Sam helped as well but he was also really good at chauffeuring Bucky wherever he needed to go.

There was a very very long gravel driveway leading up to Bucky's huge mansion. It was pretty, I had to admit. Nice dark brick with ivy, a beautiful garden that I bet Steve helped out with, and a peaceful fountain in the center of the drive. I noticed more fountains in the garden area. We had passed tall black iron gates on the way in, giving me an eerie feeling of what the interior of the mansion would be like. Probably dark and scary.

Boy, was I wrong. The inside was beautiful. White marble stairs, golden curtains and natural light everywhere. It felt soft and safe, while still looking professional and wealthy. I was scared to touch anything, it all looked so clean and like everything was in its place.

Bucky dismissed Sam and Steve, leading me up the stairs and to the right of the hall. We walked for quite a bit before he turned into a room. "This is yours. You are to sleep here and I will have all of your stuff here in the next two weeks." He turned to face me, "My office is down the hall to the left, first hall to your right. My room is down the hall to the right, first room on your left hand side. If you need anything, ask me, Sam or Steve. Nobody else lives here but the four of us." he sounded so calm and collected. Did he steal people often?

"I don't live here." I corrected him. The quirk in his eyebrow let me know I shouldn't have spoken. I didn't care. It couldn't get any worse than this. "You do live here. You will not leave this property until you ask me for permission and you have been assigned an escort." "I do not live here! You do not own me, and I am going home. I have to go to work, and I will not stay here." I clenched my jaw, waiting for him to say something.

"Y/n, you live here. Your father promised me his first born daughter just before your mother got pregnant. He was a horrible man, you knew that. Your mother never knew about the deal. You are mine and you will not be leaving. Are we clear?" I hated how the tone of his voice made me clench my thighs together, but I hated even more how he was speaking to me and how he thought he could just keep me here.

"No! I will not stay here! You stole me out of my OR while I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A SURGERY! An open heart surgery. A poor young girl's life was in my hands, Bucky!!!! You could have killed her!! She was INNOCENT!! I hate you. She could have died. Her parents have been in and out of hospitals with her for six years!! Six years, Bucky! She is six years old and her whole life has been within the walls of hospitals and I had a chance to change that. You could have ruined her life and I hate you." I was so angry, tears were running down my face again. I felt warm and exhausted. The urge to just sleep and hope this was a really really bad dream came over me. "Get out." I spat through my teeth, daring him to challenge my order.

He almost looked pitiful as he left my room and closed the door behind him.

The bed was uncomfortable, and I had none of my own possessions. Bucky had come in later to apologize, which fell on deaf ears. He had thankfully given me one of his shirts and some sweatpants before he went back to his office. The sheets on the bed were scratchy, and his pants were too warm.

At around 2 a.m, after no luck at sleeping, I slipped out of my room and headed towards his office, just like he had directed. I figured he would be there, being a surgeon I know what it's like to stay up late to get work done, especially if you're stressed. Which I assume he was after kidnapping someone.

I opened the door slowly to reveal Bucky. His jacket was discarded and a few of the buttons on his shirt were undone. "What are you doing here?" He asked after looking up at me. I felt his gaze rake over my body, now only clad in his shirt and a pair of my underwear. "I need your help," I said calmly. I was desperate after only a few hours with this man. I felt pathetic.

Bucky's eyebrow quirked, encouraging me to continue. "My dog, Joe is probably watching her. I wouldn't know because you took my phone, but that's what I'm assuming." he looked intrigued, with his head tilted to the side and his hands still instead of typing. "If Joe isn't watching her, she only has enough food and water for one day, unless she drinks out of the toilet bowl, but I don't really want her to do that, not that it isn't clean! But she's a big dog and-" "y/n." His cold voice stopped me right in my tracks. Shit. This is probably where he refuses to help me get my dog.

"Please," my eyes began to water at the thought of her at home, all alone, wondering where I went, and then possibly starving to death without anyone to take care of her. "She's my best friend, and I promise she won't be any trouble, I'll pay for everything, I'll even pay a rent fee or something! I just really need my dog back." I think he could see my lip wobble because that look of pity from earlier came back.

"I used to have a dog," his voice surprised me just as much as his words. I looked up at him inquisitively, "She was a Great Dane named Nala. I get it. I'll arrange to pick her up tomorrow, and some of your things later in the week." "Thank you." I whispered before turning to leave his office.

"What's her name?" I heard just before I reached the door. "Hazel," I smiled at the memory of her. "She's an Irish wolf hound." I said sheepishly. at my confession, he smiled. "Goodnight y/n." "Goodnight Bucky."

It's been a week since we got Hazel, and Bucky has seemed kinder and kinder every day. It was probably just because Hazel was such a good dog, but a part of me hoped I helped to make him happier too. When I brought it up to Steve and Sam they had both agreed it wasn't just my dog.

Another night rolled around and I still didn't have anything else of my own. I had been sharing clothes with all three of the men, including underwear. The night was the worst time for me, always leaving me frustrated at my inability to get comfortable enough to sleep. Hazel had no problems, sleeping soundly at the foot of my bed just like she would at home. Or my old house? Was this place really my home?

At 1 a.m, when I hadn't heard any movement in a while I snuck out to Bucky's bedroom where I knew he wouldn't be. He was still in his office working, I knew because I hadn't heard him walk to his room, something he doesn't usually do until at least 3 a.m. Hazel had decided to follow me, making this a bit harder to get away with when being followed by a huge Irish wolfhound.

Slowly, I opened the door to his bedroom. It was gorgeous. He had an abundance of pillows, a soft blanket at the end of his bed and thick creamy coloured duvet. Dark wood furniture decorated the room, complemented by dark curtains and hunter green walls. The place was gorgeous and very well decorated. I moved closer to his bed and found an extra soft blanket under the duvet. I slid it out and draped it over Hazel's back so my hands could hold other stuff. I grabbed a body length grey pillow, deciding he wouldn't miss it for one night.

Before he came to his room, we scurried back to my bed as quietly as possible, Hazel not dropping the blanket once.

"That's the best she's slept in weeks, boss." I could hear voices outside of my bedroom. Steve. The curtains were closed, so it was still nice and dark in my room, then another voice spoke, "Really? She hasn't been sleeping well this whole time?". Bucky. "No, she tosses and turns all night. Honestly, I would too if I didn't have anything of my own.". Sam. "She likes your pillow though." Steve commented.

I didn't want to get up yet but I didn't want to be watched either. I slowly opened my eyes and lifted my head to see the three men in my doorway. Steve and Sam smiled before walking away with waves directed at me. I waved back before focusing my gaze on Bucky.

"I see you like my stuff." he smirked, slowly making his way towards my bed. Hazel jumped off to go find food, her bowls had been placed in the kitchen. "You know, it's wrong to steal sweetheart." Bucky was looking down at me now, his hands in the pockets of his neat dress pants. "You left me with no other choice," I said without much confidence.

"I don't have any of my things, and these sheets are god awful and scratchy." "Maybe I just like seeing you in my clothes," he hummed. A warm blush coated my cheeks as he leaned closer. "You're kinda cute sweetheart." At this point I could smell his minty breath, and feel it as well. "Give me my stuff, and you'll get yours back." I suggested before flopping down on my bed and pulling the covers over me, specifically the blanket I stole right off of his own bed.

He laughed before tugging at the blanket to reveal me clinging to his body sized pillow like a koala. I refused to meet his gaze, instead keeping my eyes closed. "I can't sleep unless I'm comfortable." I stated.

"I get that. We'll have Steve pick your stuff up, but you can keep the pillow." he winked.

That afternoon, Bucky had sat down and had lunch with me. He made eggs, bacon and fluffy toast. I helped a little, making us tea and setting the plates at the black marble island.

"So, I was thinking, you can start working remotely until they absolutely need you back at the hospital." his eyes met mine, waiting for a reaction. I was excited, but I tried not to show it too much since I really shouldn't have been taken from the hospital in the first place. "Then, once I'm sure it's safe, you can go back."

"Safe?" How did my safety play into this decision? I was confused, I was always safe at the hospital, save for the occasional confused patient. "Y/n, your father had a lot of enemies, quite a few of them are associated with other mafias, none as well built or known as my own. He promised you to me in hopes that peace could be made, but he betrayed several of his promises and upset more people than he could handle. Because they can't get to your father, they might get to you next."

"Fine. But I need to get to the hospital sooner rather than later. I have a million patients and I've missed so many rounds. For all I know, Lena could be out of the hospital by now. I haven't had contact with anyone for weeks." I sighed, to which he frowned at. "I know, and I do feel bad but I also care about your safety."

I blushed at his admittance, not used to being romantically cared for. Over the days that turned into weeks, we had grown to like each other. Maybe this arrangement would end up working after all.

"Fuck."

Bucky had given me a space to work within his office, so that's where I was when I heard a string of curses and muffled groans near midnight. The door suddenly swung open, revealing a bloody and battered Bucky.

"James?" I asked. "Hey -shit- y/n/n." He clutched his right arm to his abdomen. There was so much blood from so many different places. "It looks like you need my help," I sassed, getting up to help him settle down on the leather couch. His "yeah" was cut off by a groan. "I need to take your shirt off, okay?" Concern was surely painted on my face as I saw his blood soaked jacket.

"At least buy me dinner first," he laughed. "Ha ha. I'm glad you're in a decent mood," I said while starting to unbutton his white work shirt. I rolled up the sleeves of his black Henley that I was borrowing. He had three major wounds: one on his cheek, one on his right arm and one located on his lower abdomen.

"This is going to hurt," I warned, getting the first aid kit from across the room and preparing the peroxide. He hissed as I poured it over every wound, dabbing them after with gauze. "You're doing great," I tried to smile sympathetically while remaining focused.

"I'm going to stitch your face first, okay?" I asked, getting the supplies ready. "I don't need stitches." he countered. "Bucky, this wound is deep and it's not going to stop bleeding until I close it. You need stitches." "Doll, I'm fine, just leave it."

"Right! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I forgot that you had a medical degree." I said sarcastically. He blushed in return and stayed still while I started to stitch his cheek.

A part of me wanted to make a jab about being out of practice, due to being kidnapped from the hospital, but I held back. Bucky was a good man and we were starting to bond and get along way better than I had ever anticipated. I learned that he had a sister, Steve had been his best friend since highschool, and he had inherited the mafia from his father.

James was a man who loved dogs, and making sure the ones he loved were safe, from his best friend all the way down to Anne, the maid and housekeeper. Another hiss pulled me from my thoughts. "Sorry," I winced. "Almost done."

"Thank you" he said after I patched each site with gauze and polysporin. "Anytime." "I guess we make more sense than I thought." he said as we sipped coffee in the kitchen. "How so?" I laughed. "A surgeon and a mafia boss. I could use you doll." He smiled. I tilted my head to the side in mock offense. " 's that all I am to you? A good pair of hands to tend to your messes, Mr. Barnes?" I asked. "No no no! I just mean that we make sense, you know?" I smiled at him over my mug. "I know."

He started leaning closer to me, to the point where I could feel his breath on my lips. Bucky's eyes met mine over the small table, his flesh hand coming up to cup my cheek, the other resting its cooler touch on my neck, pulling me in. I never fought once, instantly kissing him back when I felt his lips meet mine.

I sighed into the kiss, letting him hold my face and tip it back. His tongue caressed my lower lip before bringing it into his mouth, sucking on it tenderly. My hand moved to cover his flesh one, leaning into his touch slightly. He inhaled me as he pulled back. I felt my face flush and go warm and his hungry gaze, as if I was his prey and he wanted to devour me whole. "Bucky," I panted.

He smirked devilishly. "You like that, doll?" I nodded dumbly at his question. Bucky's eyes creased at the corners when he smiled, tilting his head down to look at me. "I like you," I whispered. He leaned closer, "I like you too, printessa."

Over the weeks, I had started sharing Bucky's room with him. I had an abundance of plush blankets and soft pillows to cuddle with. He had started coming to bed earlier, and I have started back at the hospital. Joe and my other friends missed me while I was away, and I can guarantee that I missed them just as much, if not more. My Resident Chief and Chief of Surgery both cried when they saw me walk back into the hospital lobby, happy and unharmed.

Life was good again, and I finally felt peace.

#marvel mcu #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky x fem reader #mafia!bucky x y/n

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hotreadingwitch · 8 months

Text

Matt Murdock x Reader - Boyfriend Material

Content Warnings/Kinks: teasing, bruising (handprints), hickeys, breast/nipple play, choking, hair pulling, praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex (male and female receiving), cum swallowing, penetrative vaginal sex (positions: spooning & missionary)

Matt slid his hands up the sides of her body until they reached the edge of her shirt.

"Please tell me I can take this off" He stated, gesturing to the fabric.

She whispered a small "yes" and in a flash the shirt was scattered somewhere across the room. Y/n giggled lightly, charmed by her boyfriend's clear enthusiasm. His hands reached higher, skimming her waist before reaching her breasts. She threw her head back as he cupped them through the lace of her bra, squeezing her nipples between his fingers causing her to moan.

"You like that?" Matt questioned.

Y/n bent forward until her face was an inch from his, letting her kiss answer his question

"I think you know that I do" she then added, unbuckling her bra and slipping out of the rest of her clothes until she was naked before him

"Touch me?" she asked, giving him the permission she knew he craved.

Matt's hands returned to her nude form, and this time her senses were heightened by the feeling of his skin on hers. He gripped her ass playfully, he peppered kisses along the length of her stomach. Y/n felt adored like she always did when she was with him. There were three things Matt Murdock took seriously in life 1) work 2) his friends 3) sex.

Soon, Y/n was completely turned on, she could even feel the moisture slicking her inner thighs getting wetter and wetter the more that Matt touched her. She knew, however, that there was one thing that would make her ever hotter, even more aroused.

She sunk to her knees and almost as if by instinct Matt spread his legs where he was sitting on the edge of the bed to make room for her.

"I'm trying to touch you Y/n, don't you want-"

"Nothing's going to turn me on more than having your cock in my mouth" she interrupted his protests, "I want to feel you, I want to taste you, I want you to take this throat and make me remember why it belongs to you"

"Sweetheart..." he groaned, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, "Are you sure?"

"Positive" she confirmed, before asking, her voice tinged with innocence in that way she knew he loved, "Please can I touch you now, Matty?"

"Fuck" he grunted before nodding gruffly.

Y/n unbuckled his belt slowly, focusing on the way the cool leather and metal strap felt in her hand and the power that she felt as she listened to Matt's shallow breaths become more and more irregular as she made him wait. She took his cock out of his underwear, starting by running the tips of her fingers up and down the underside of his shaft, dragging them before teasing around the sensitive tip.

"Please..." he begged, the sensitivity making his hips buck upward.

He hissed as she sucked his tip into her mouth, her lips creating a suction around the head.

"Y/n" he moaned, his voice a swift, barely-there breath, "Such a good girl-so good for me"

He continued to groan and praise her as her head bobbed up and down his length, taking as much of it as she could. His hands found their way to her hair and soon he was pulling her strands back away from her face into a makeshift ponytail, gripped roughly in his hands. She moaned on his cock as he tugged her head back slightly, the tension making a ripple of pleasure run the length of her spine.

"Your mouth-fuck-'feels so good sweetheart"

Matt breathed out a long breath, his head tilting back as his grip on her hair tightened subconsciously, pulling even harder, causing her to release another muffled moan.

"If you keep moaning on my cock..." he stated through gritted teeth, "I'm gonna cum in your mouth a lot sooner than I'd like"

"Oh yeah?" she teased, pulling up off of him just to smirk.

Y/n played with Matt's cock, using her hand to trace lines up and down his shaft. She let her other hand rest on his taut stomach, tracing soothing circles with her fingers as his hard muscles flexed beneath. When she finally returned her now-puffy lips to his needy tip, she kissed it gently, forming a perfect pout, causing him to groan. She then opened her mouth and sucked down his shaft, moaning around it so that the vibrations would send him over the edge.

"Fuck Y/n" he grunted as he came.

White substance splashed the walls of her throat and she hungrily took it, sucking slowly up his erection until she reached the top. She placed another sweet kiss on his tip, making him release a low, rumbling growl before she stood up.

She grabbed at him desperately, pushing him back down onto his silky sheets. They scrambled up the bed until they reached the headboard, Matt's head almost hitting the top. Once she situated herself on top of him their kisses immediately resumed, the salty taste of Matt there on her lips.

"Mmm," he groaned, savouring himself.

As they kissed, it was as if their bodies started moving completely on their own. Y/n gasped as she ground down onto Matt, her clit rubbing up and down the length of his shaft. He gripped her hips, pulling her down further onto him.

"Fuck" she whimpered before begging, "Please Matt, I need you in me"

"No," he chuckled against her lips.

He kissed away the pout that had instantly made its way onto her face.

"Matt..." she whined, her frustration clear as she ground herself onto him again.

He slid a hand up from her hips to her waistline, using his weight to throw himself over her until she was rolled onto her back.

"I know what you want Y/n" he teased with another intense kiss, taking control, "but I'm not giving it to you until you've cum on my lips at least once"

She whimpered.

"Does that sound okay sweetheart...?"

His lips trailed over to her cheek.

"Your sweet pussy on my tongue..."

Then, her jaw.

"...Fingers pulling at my hair"

She gasped when he reached her neck.

"Caging my face with your thighs until I make you cum, make your legs shake"

Y/n was practically panting.

"Matttt" she groaned, her voice catching on the final consonant, "Please-ugh, God-please"

"No point begging Him sweetheart," he groaned onto her skin, sucking at her thigh roughly as he settled between her legs, "No...it's me whose name you're gonna be calling out"

His kisses formed a wet chain from her thigh to her most sensitive area. Each one made her hips buck more than the last. When he finally swiped his tongue over her clit she gasped, her hands immediately flying to find purchase in his chestnut curls.

One of his hands snaked up her body, his palms running over her front with a pressure so intense she felt it in her ribs. He squeezed at her throat.

"That feel good?"

"Yes," she groaned, her breathing getting more and more irregular by the second, "Just-just like that"

He licked and licked at her clit, the feeling and the lewd noises of him eating her out making her moan. As he continued he took his other hand and began caressing her sensitive hole. He didn't penetrate her, just simply teasing her entrance. Y/n's legs squeezed the sides of his face tightly and he was buried so deep in her that she couldn't even see his eyes, only his curls as they spilled onto her lower stomach.

"Fuck" he groaned onto her wetness, loving the taste.

Matt sucked around her clit, his tongue sliding across the sensitive areas, touching every spot that pleased her. She could feel his satisfactory grin tickling her skin every time she moaned his name or simply whimpered for him.

"Matt" she moaned, "Shit-I'm close"

Y/n's hips rocked up and down against the suction he was creating around her clit, the circular movements in sync with her quiet moans and breathy utterances. And when she came it was explosive, and it was perfect because it was good oral, yes, but most importantly because it was Matt. To cum on his tongue, to wet his beautiful face with her cum, the thought made her shiver her way through her orgasm.

"Fuck" she breathed out, sighing the word with a small breathy chuckle.

She twitched on his wet mouth, on his fingers as her orgasm subsided. Matt emerged from beneath her, crawling slowly up her body, running his hands up her curves as he did. He kissed her like they were running out of time, he kissed her like he loved her, and she knew he did.

"I-I need to be inside you" he confessed softly against her lips,

"Yes" she consented, pulling impatiently at his toned arms, "Please Matty"

Matt kissed her then and again, it genuinely took her breath away. He pushed her onto her side before positioning himself behind her on the bed, taking the time to caress her waist with his calloused palm and press a line of kisses into the crook of her sensitive neck. Her skin prickled with each touch until she was begging for what she wanted.

"Matt...please" she puffed.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me" she groaned before repeating, "Please, please, ple-"

But her sarcasm was instantly cut off, her words replaced by a short gasp as Matt pushed the first bit of his hard cock into her. She reached back, gripping his skin, her nails digging into him.

She gasped again as he pressed further and further into her until his entire length was sheathed inside her warm pussy.

"Matt" she groaned, her eyes scrunching shut at the feeling of his size.

"You can take it sweetheart" he encouraged, staying still until she was prepared for him.

Y/n relaxed then, breathing in long, slow puffs, "...Ready"

"Yeah?" He confirmed, pulling back before pressing slightly farther into her, she'd honestly forgotten that he had more to give. Matt began sliding in and out of her at a slow pace making her insides clench around him.

"Mmm" she moaned, then whimpered, "Yes"

Matt reached forward with one hand and caressed from her sternum up to her throat in one intimate motion. She groaned as his fingers wrapped themselves around her neck, whimpering immediately after when his grip tightened and his pace sped up. She tilted her gaze toward him so that the back of her head was resting on his wide shoulders. Y/n loved watching every twitch of Matt's eyebrows, every lip bite, every bead of sweat forming. The truth was she adored him, and watching him fuck her while feeling him fuck her was a dream come true.

"I might not be able to see sweetheart but I can feel you staring at me"

"And what's wrong with that?" she breathed, her tone dripping with desire, "I like looking at you when you're fucking me"

Matt groaned at that, his hand on her neck subconsciously gripping even tighter before releasing, making her cry out at the loss. But in a second Matt was rolling her over until she was on her back beneath him.

"I need to fuck you deeper" he stated, his grasp on her hips rough and desperate, then groaning, "Fuck your pussy's so good"

He kissed her neck, her jaw, the skin beneath her ear.

"You want it?" He asked then.

"You know I do" she whimpered in response, repeating her words from earlier as she clenched at the feeling of his crown touching her entrance.

He slid into her and immediately started to thrust, holding tightly onto her waist with both hands, squeezing the skin, likely leaving two handprints behind. Her stomach tensed as he pumped in and out of her tight hole, making her whimper his name. She moved her legs upward so that they were wrapped around Matt's body, pulling him closer, deeper.

"Fuck" he cursed at the feeling.

His strong upper body leaned over her as he thrust in and out of her pussy, his toned arms caging her from either side. Y/n breathed heavily as she slid her hand down, connecting her fingers to her needy clit. As she began rubbing Matt's head cocked to the side...

"No, no sweetheart, that's my job" he growled between kisses, "That clit, that pussy, it's mine-all mine"

He refocused his attention then, spitting on his fingers before placing them on her clit and beginning to rub circles, causing her to moan, swearing so loudly she thought all of Hell's Kitchen must have been able to hear her.

"Kiss me" she whispered then, desperate for even more intimacy, wanting him in every possible way, all at once.

He smiled that slow, seductive Matt Murdock smile before sighing and leaning down to kiss her. His lips just missed hers, his kiss landing on the side of her mouth as she rocked below him, causing her to chuckle lightly. She grabbed his face, steadying him as he continued to thrust, planting a kiss of her own directly on his blush pout. A second later, they separated and her head rolled back on the pillow as the pleasure of Matt thrusting in and out of her while rubbing at her clit began to overwhelm her.

"Fuck" she breathed.

She came quickly, hard, at that moment with Matt's fingers rubbing fiercely on her clit, his cock slamming in and out of her.

"That's it sweetheart" he groaned, as she tightened up around him, "That's my girl"

He cupped her face with his large hand, holding onto her as he continued to thrust in and out of her, now cumming himself, the waves of her orgasm sending his cock over the edge. She felt weightless, she felt as if her bones had melted within her body and she was now nothing but a mess in his arms.

"Ahh," she sighed.

When they'd both come down from their highs and shifted into a more comfortable position, Matt caressed her cheek with his warm hand.

"God I love you"

"You love God?" He joked, smiling, "And here I thought you were an atheist..."

He silenced her laughter with another kiss and she truly didn't want to break away, not to joke, not for anything.

#smut #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matthew murdock #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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