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winterarmyy · 9 months

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Promise Me | Part I

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 6.5k++ (hella long bc lots to cover in the story building part)

Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: just slow induced angst for your daily consumption (i guess?) It has a hopeful ending so don't let the first warning chase you away. reincarnation concept. an attempt to follow exact mcu timeline (forgive if i'm wrong at certain parts). slight religious contents. grief & loss. graphic violence. deaths. mention of suicide. a lot of reader's pov, story building > dialogs (sorry guys).

P/S: Another impulsive writing from me y'all. I hope you don't get bored of this tendency of mine lol. I just need to let the fantasies out before it consumes me. So... anyway, it's gonna be another 3 parts fic cause for the love of god, I cannot commit for more :') Also, my first attempt of writing 40's bucky!!! I'm honestly scared. I hope you like it!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Italy, 1943 – His return

If it was one thing that Bucky should expect when he decided to be in a relationship with Y/N was that he had to accept her for who she was; stubborn, clumsy, bold, clever, sweet and most certainly the prettiest dame he ever met.

He might have unknowingly signed up for it the moment he quite literally fell for her at one of those Stark's science expo. Bucky had been stealing glances at this one pretty lady in the crowd, adored in soft mint dress that falls right below her knees.

It wasn't even a scandalous dress to wear in public but somehow Bucky was more than ecstatic to marvel at her beauty. There was no such thing as a too long of a stare, especially when she laughed like that; throwing her head in amusement, the loose strands of her curls fall back across her shoulders as they slightly shook to the rhythm of her laughter.

A careless misstep, that Bucky could see from a mile away, had caused her to stagger backwards and twisted her ankle into an inevitable fall. Somehow, Bucky managed to slither his way through the crowd towards her, almost jumping forward to catch her before she landed on the ground.

Not only that he was the one who fell first, but he also fell hard.

So, it was expected that Bucky knew what he had got himself into. At least, that was what Y/N had been repeating in her head to convince herself for what she had done. Now that she was sitting at the back of the wobbly military truck, the fear had slowly started to seep into her, causing shivers to crawl all over her nerves.

Y/N just knew it in her guts that Bucky would be absolutely furious when he sees her but what does he expect her to do when she hadn't receive any letters from him for months now. So, when she heard that they needed more medical helpers at the Italy base, she signed up without thinking twice about it.

"There has been a recent attack on the 107th. Too many casualties and much more whose heavily injured. You might have your hands full the moment you arrive to the base. There are few rules..." The lieutenant's voice was rigid just as his demenour when he continued to inform the situation to the troops of medical staff.

No matter how much she wanted to pay attention to his words, Y/N couldn't help but to tune in only at his first few sentences. Casualties, heavily injured. Her hands moved to search for the cross pendent hanging from the necklace around her collarbone, gripping it tight as she prayed that her lover was not categorized under any of those dire circumstances.

What the lieutenant said in that truck could never be more true as the moment they stepped into the medic tent, Y/N and the others were quickly pulled to assist the fallen men. It was truly heartbreaking and horrid to witness the dreading truth behind what the public posed as the "heros of the country'.

Surely they were proud to fight for the nation but then again no human being should ever had to suffer the consequences of war; not the civilians and certainly not the soldiers.

After seemingly hours of continuous stitching, wrapping and patching up; surrounded sound of groaning pain and the endless cycle of inhaling the distinct scent of fresh blood, burned flesh and the bitter of anticeptic odor; the injured soldiers were finally taken care of and had been put to rest.

Y/N looked around the tent, noting the unorganized mess around the patients; the result of the panic and chaos of the whole situation. A thought came to her mind, she might need to do some cleaning up before writing down medical record for each one of the patients.

That was when the lieutenant entered into the tent, and his stern gaze swiftly analyzed the much calmer scene, "Thank you for your service, everybody. I assume the soldiers are stabilized?"

"Yes, sir." One of the battalion doctor replied as he approached, while the rest of the team watched from where they stood.

The lieutenant simply nodded, "Good." He paused for awhile and looked around, "Now, have any of you met Captain America before?"

There were bunch of no's murmured around the medical staff, some of them just shook their head as an answer and the lieutenant nodded again as he informed, "Well, I guess you are all just darn lucky cause he's here to perform. You are invited to come and join the others to watch, if you want to."

"Steve's here?" She thought to herself.

As the lieutenant continued to explain some things about accommodation, food and medical supplies, Y/N's head were filled with thought that her dear friend, Steve was there too.

"I wonder if he gotten any words from James."

"Maybe he got letters from him?"

"Or could it be that he was here to find James too?

There were so many questions kept circulating in her head that by the time she snapped out of them, the lieutenant was already long gone and some of the medic staff went out to untangle themselves from the hours of stressful tension.

As a nurse herself, she felt the need to take care of her patients and finish her job before anything else. So, she started to clean up the shredded clothes, bloodied guazes and the other medical tools that needed to be sterilized and put away.

By the time she finished, it finally dawned to her that there was no trace of Bucky in the medic tent. Which means he didn't fall into the heavily injured category. So, there was two left; the one she prayed for and the other that dreaded her to even think about.

Y/N quickly made her way towards the tent where she can find the soldier in charge. However, if she was focused during one of the lieutenant's speech in the truck, she would've heard that she and the others were not authorized to enter certain parts of the base, which include the higher ups' tents.

When she was turned down by the soldiers, she sadly walked away towards the main area where Steve was supposed to perform. The drag of her feet across the dusty sand was heavy but no more heavier than the burden in her heart.

She watched as her black pump shoes gradually covered with light sand. Finding it odd that a few weeks ago she was standing on the shiny tile of a hospital in Brooklyn and now she was halfway across the world in the middle of the chaos of a war.

The things she'd do for love.

Soon enough, the dry ground was wet from the sudden down pour, turning it into a murky soggy path. Y/N quickly ran towards the main area where apparently the show was long over. "Did I missed Steve?" She thought as she stepped into the tent where the performers supposed to be.

The tent turned out to be empty and only the sound of drizzling raindrops above it was left behind. She looked around the area and saw the costumes for the performers were still there; the pleated white and red skirt hanging on the rack, white gloves clipped with them, the captain's shield with notes sticking at the back of it and the iconic blue helmet-mask thingy plastered with the obvious letter.

She peeked a little to the right only to see Steve hunched down on the floor, curling into himself just as he always did back when he was left beaten up in the alleyway somewhere in Brooklyn. She guessed that the upgrade of his size doesn't really change his habits.

Y/N walked closer to see him holding his sketchbook on one hand and another was a pencil pressing across the paper, lining the drawing of a monkey on a unicycle. "I guess the serum does not amplify your art skills huh Steve?" she teased as she approached the blonde man.

Steve lifted up his head as he turned towards the familiar voice, "y/n?" His face lit up as he recognized her face. He stood on his feet and pulled her into a tight hug, "It's so good to see you." He sighed, he haven't seen her since his departure when she insisted for him to stay.

But alas, Steve was also as stubborn as her.

It took awhile for him to process it but when it came to him, he gently pushed her away, "Wait.. what are you doing here?" His brows creased into a worried frown.

Y/N simply smiled as she responded, "They needed help, so I volueentered."

Steve shook his head in disbelief, "Bucky made me promise not to let you do stuff like this." In which Y/N countered, "And he also remind you not to do anything stupid until he get back so..." she purposely trailed her words for him to draw the conclusion on his own.

He let out a long sighed before concluding, "Bucky's gonna kill us."

Since, Bucky was in the topic, Y/N took the oppurtunity to asked Steve about him, "About that, have you heard--"

A woman's voice came from her back, cutting in between her words, "Steve?"

Steve nervously untangled himself from Y/N as he shyly greeted the woman, "Hi."

The woman continued to stare at Y/N trying to figure out her role and relationship with Steve but before she could get any strange idea, he quickly introduced her, "This is y/n. She's my good friend from home."

A spark of realization glint through her eyes "I see. I'm Peggy. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards Y/N, in which Y/N gladly shook it in hers as she reintroduced herself, "You too. I'm y/n."

After the brief exchange of smile between the two ladies, Steve continued to asked Peggy, "What are you doing here?"

Peggy sighed as she explained, "Officially, I'm not here at all." She paused as she picked her words, "I just came by to oversee the situation after the recent attack."

Although Y/N knew what Peggy meant, she was one of the medic staff that had been stitching up the aftermath of that attack after all. However, Steve on the other hand seemed to be lost.

Peggy further explained, "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano, more than 200 men went up against him and less than 50 returned." She paused, "Your audience contained what's left of the 107th."

Steve's blues widen in realization that almost looked much like panic, "The 107th?"

"What?" Peggy prompt quickly.

Steve then turned his head to Y/N, "Bucky?" He questioned shortly.

But even she was hoping that he'll know something about Bucky, apparently she was wrong, "I tried to ask but I'm not authorized to enter the tent. I was hoping you heard from him."

Seeing the panic in Steve's eyes, she knew that her lover was no where near the safety that she prayed for. But before fear could set in, Steve sprinted out of the tent, "Come on!" he shouted as Y/N and Peggy ran closely behind him.

When they arrived to the tent, fortunately they had the permission to enter with the help of Peggy. "Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?" Colonel Philips greeted in a teasing manner.

Steve didn't even bother to greet the colonel as he demanded, "I need the casualty list from Azzano." In which the Philips responded, "You don't get to give me orders, son."

Knowing that arguments won't help the situation, he control his tone of voice and spoke, "I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th." He took a short breath and insisted, "Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"

Colonel Phillips stood on his feet as he walked towards a table behind him, "I can spell. I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count." He paused before turning around to eye on Steve and briefly on the very worried looking nurse next to him.

"But the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." There was a flash of sincerity in his eyes when he looked towards Y/N.

The optimistic Steve continued to insist more about other possibilities than casualties, "What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" They went back and forth about the what is the 'right' thing to do, "Yes, it's called 'winning the war'. "

And suddenly sound of the heavy rain fall was all Y/N could hear, then comes the booming of her heartbeat as the panic started to deprive her of any optimism, clouding her judgment to think of anything near to positive outcomes such as Steve.

It was getting harder to breath and the anxitey slowly choked her, forcing tears to pool in her eyes. Peggy swiftly took a hold on Y/N, before her knees managed to fall to the ground. The muffled sound of Peggy's voice managed to come through but not enough to wake her from the despair.

Before she knew it, Steve was already gone for an unauthorized rescue mission with the help from Peggy. And ever since, Y/N had spend every waking moment digging her knees into the uneven ground. Her elbows bruised from how hard she propped them on the steel edge of the army green cot. Her palms almost dented to shape of the silver cross as she desperately squeeze it between her hold.

She prayed and prayed for his return. For both of her dearest to be safe, to find their way home.

And for a moment Y/N thought her prayers were graciously granted by God, as the crowd was getter louder and the circle of soldiers were geting thicker when the survivors joined the rest of them. There were chantings of "Captain America" that echoed throughout the base and that gave her relief to know that Steve was safe.

But it was not enough to tame her anxiousness. Y/N's focus has never been sharper when her eyes scanned the crowd, she slithered her way between the jumping joy of the soldiers, grabbing onto some men who she mistook as Bucky until she saw him.

Her heartbeat ramped increasingly as she pushed through the soldiers, finding strength from the blood pumping excitement when she recognize those steel blues and that cheeky smile. Not long before she managed to grab onto his hand and pulled his attention to her.

It was brief but he knew that face anywhere; and suddenly his whole body was engulf into a familiar tight hug that he thought he could never be able to feel again. "James." her voice still stuttered even if it was just one word that came out of her lips.

"y/n?" Bucky called her name, almost in disbelief.

God, she never knew that she was able to miss his voice this much.

"Doll, what you doing here?" He gently lead her away, which she reluctantly followed, "I'm here for you." There was no need of lies now that Bucky was here in her arms.

His gaze soften with a mix of concern and joy, "What do you mean you're here for me?" Bucky couldn't help but to let out a short laugh, "Sweetheart, you do realized that you're in the middle of a war?" His brows quirked as he reminded.

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course, she realized that. The moment she saw that form for enlistment, she knew. But, it didn't stop her to sign up, does it?

She laced her fingers into his, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James." she whispered as she leaned closer, "So, please just shut up and kiss me."

Bucky might have just realized it now; what a stubborn, demanding, crazy little lover got himself. Though at the same time, she had never charmed him more.

Bucky sighed in defeat before running his tongue on his lower lip, "Well then, come here you little minx" he took her by the head and gave her the most desperate yet sweetest kiss she could never forget.

Brooklyn, 1944 – Promises, promises

It was the day that Steve, Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos were depolying to the Austrian Alps for one of the biggest mission since Captain's impulsive rescue mission in Italy last year.

Apparently, Zola was on the move and predicted to be passing though the location while travelling on a train.

This wasn't the first time she had sent Bucky away, but the fear of each always felt like it was her first; especially when she thought about the promise of death that's chained to a soldier's fate.

The closer the time of departure, the stronger her grip on Bucky's uniform becomes. And Bucky didn't need to say anything because he knows her too well; she won't take any of his sweet words as a cure for her distress.

Bucky slowly swayed her from side to side as their embrace tightens with need; her face hidden in the crook of his neck while his arms secured around her waist. He had to smile as it reminded him of their late night dance, barefoot on the kitchen floor of his apartment.

He could feel the teasing gaze coming from his back as well as the whistles of the Howling Commandos playfully making fun of him. Bucky was also well aware of the fact that everyone had made theirs bets on when will the Sargent James B. Barnes finally get down on his knees for his little nightingale of a nurse.

Unsurprisingly, Steve might just win the bet afterall. That punk just had know everything about him.

Y/N closer snuggled into him one last time, "Come home to me, James." She whispered against his skin before pulling away. Teary eyes threatened to spill its salty liquid as she looked up at him, "Promise me."

Bucky's charming smile lighten his features as he leaned to press a kiss in her forehead, "I promise."

Brooklyn, 1945 – Loved and lost

Months gone by, entered the new year, and it always felt like eternity for Y/N. She spent nights kneeling next to her bed and days on the church's floor; practically begging to God for the life of her lover, for keeping him away from death.

And the letters from Bucky also come and goes within those few months' time, with his promises of coming home that's laced in the words of his longing and love for her.

But, little did she knew, that promise met it's end of the bargain when the dreaded letter came to her hands. It came from the man she met back in Italy base, Colonel Phillips, sending the words of condolences for the death Sargent James B. Barnes during his honourable mission at the Austrian Alps.

But the first time she read to words, it didn't even register in her head. It was as if her brain failed to translate the message for her to understand. Y/N had been re-reading the same lines over and over and over until it finally clicked.

The usually bright eyes of hers were now slowly filled with tears, she was in the state of shock; that even if her brain knew exactly what had happened but her heart wasn't ready for it.

The tears started to fall down onto the letter. Drip by drip. And all of the sudden she lost every word that she could ever think of. Her silent scream; suffocating her with each breath she took desperately gripping onto the fragile piece of paper, holding it to her chest hold as if that would help to ease the pain in her heart.

Y/N could feel it in her ripping guts. How all the threads of every joyful memories she could ever once recall; they unraveled in a way that broke her to pieces until they were all but a rumpled of strings scattered about her feet.

A sharp fall had forced Y/N down to her knees, skin digging into the hard floor as her hands trembled silently, clutching onto the letter.

At first when she opened her mouth, there was not a single sound came out as her breath ripped from her lungs. Each left her with scars of loss and every waking minute in this reality was just pure pain.

Her body bend forward until her forehead meets the floor, that was when she wailed; an agonizing scream that left a haunting memory to the neighbours around her apartment.

She cried like there was too much raw pain inside that she could never contained. She cried like her soul needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release a loathful rage on the world.

But it was more than just crying, it was the sobbing of a woman that drained of all hope. She sank on floor, willing herself to be swallowed by the dread and loss. Just screaming out the agonies that been dancing across her vulnerable veins.

Her chest violently quivered as she was desperately trying to catch the air. She collected every last energy that she had to call out the name of the lover she had loss, "James.." Her gasping breath whispered against the floor, "You promised."

A month later the nation celebrate to the announcement to the end of a war, but to Y/N it was just another wave of mourning grief to a loss of another precious person in her life; Steve.

Amidst the loud sound of cheering and laughter, she rushed away from the crowd to the place that she had put all her faith into. Stumbling through the empty church and falling at the feet of Jesus' statue, Y/N looked up at the face if God with loath, rage, despair, and tears.

The night was brighten to the flashing light from the firework but all she could think of was how similar the sound of it to a firing canon in the war. And the thought of Bucky and Steve run through her mind.

She had been nothing but faithful to the lord, religiously prayed for no more than saving the life of people she held dear to her heart.

But, God thought it would be merciful to let them die.

Y/N harshly ripped the cross necklace from her neck, tearing her skin apart in the process. She gripped on the cross in her hands, much like she would few month back but for completely different reason.

The crimson of her blood tainted her white collar of her nurse uniform as she she cursed the all mighty God for what he had done. Ever since, she swore to herself to never be naive to the illusion of God's mercy ever again.

Washington D.C., 2014 – An old friend

Fate is full with irony and God has his way of twisting them for his own pleasure.

When Y/N died in the 60's, old and unmarried, even if she doesn't believe in God anymore, her dying wish was to be able to meet her lover and friend again.

At least one more time.

But lo and be hold, God had different plans for her. Y/N's body did die that night on the hospital bed but her soul never did. It was as if she was woken up from sleep in another body with the same face as her, that's when she realized she has been reincarnated.

Apparently, she was only born in the same family lineage as her original life; whether coming from her younger brother or cousin or anyone related back to her bloodline. And sharing even the tiniest amount of blood of her own, triggers every single memory from her previous life.

This wasn't what she wanted.

She didn't want to live knowing she cannot be with Bucky.

So on the 2nd life, she did the unthinkable. She took her own life, thinking that she would finally leave the world behind but she didn't.

It happened again.

And again.

So, when she reached her 6th life, she realized that she will never able to meet James and Steve ever again; that was when she went rogue.

Her 6th life was filled with rage and vengeance that she took the idea of life very lightly. So, instead of living until the old days, she searched for revenge and got herself tragically killed in the process.

Now, the 18 year old Y/N was in her 7th life, with a new name that was given by her 7th parents, "Evelyn" , and the spitting image of her 1st life. From her dark raven hair to the light brown of her eyes. This time, she decided to try to accept the cruel fate; the cursed that God had placed on her for the sin that she made decades ago.

Y/N walked around the Smithsomian Museum, specifically at the American history section where they put up Captain America's exhibit. It's been how many lifetimes since she surround herself with knowledge of a past that she once lived.

This was the first time, since her first life. And most probably the last time since she was going overseas in a week to continue her studies in Asia.

She walked along the line up display of the Howling Commandos suits, remembering the living flesh of them as she took steps forward to each, stopping in front of Bucky's.

Flashes of him appeared to where the figure stood; the memories was so vivid that she could still feel fabric of his suit against her, the electrifying feeling on his skin on her own.

She ripped her gaze away just to be greeted by the portrait of Bucky, plastered so hugely on the memorial of one of the Howling Commandos section. Despite the cracking of her heart, her body move on its own; as they knew that deep down, Y/N's heart will always be yearning for her lover.

Her gaze soften with longing and nostalgic as she slowly blink at his features. His considerably messy hair, that little frown that he does to act mysterious for the ladies, and the thin layer of beard that she loved to leave her lipstick marks on.

Y/N's daydream were cut short when someone pulled her by the arm, startling her into a defensive mode. Her 6th life's habit almost broke through when she nearly flipped the man on the floor but thankfully she stopped herself as she recognized those blue eyes.

The man's face looked pale like he had seen a ghost, as he uttered a name that she haven't heard for decades, "y/n?"

"Steve..." she called his name wordlessly.

She knew he was alive. Everybody does, when the news came out in 2011, she was merely a 15 year old kid back then. Apparently, the super soldier serum helped him to survive the ice.

She remembered how her parents rushed to her room when they heard the sudden cluttering sounds of panic upstairs, only to find their daughter on the floor looking pale while her cup of iced coffee spilling in all over her study desk as the viral youtube video of Captain America running through New York city barefoot.

She remembered the feeling of both disbelief and joy that rushed through body as her parents helped her to sit up on her bed. The moment that it sunk into her head, she began to cry. Streams of joyful tears broke from her shaky body, each drop washed the painful burden in her heart as her parents lulled her to sleep.

Y/N never made an effort to meet him after knowing truth because who would've believe her words?

She wasn't Steve. There wasn't any super soldier serum in her blood. There wasn't any tank of chemical that drown her with power.

She was cursed and now she had to live with it.

Meanwhile, Steve seemed to be trapped in a spiralling confusion of his own. He examined each of her features and he had not a single doubt that she has the same face to an old friend in the 40's.

The same friend that he knew died of old age in the 60's.

But, how come the person managed to have the exact same face to hers. Now that he looked closer, she was younger than the last time he saw Y/N. She looked like she was in her teens, "Are you really y/n?" His voice was soft as he muttered.

Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks, holding back the urge of telling him the truth, "Sorry, I think you got the wrong person." she tried to untangle his grasp around the thin of her arm.

Even her voice was similar to Y/N, and she was looking at Bucky's photo like she knew him.

How could she say that she's was not Y/N?

Steve reluctantly let go of her arms and took a step away after seeing the distress on her face, "I-I'm sorry. You remind me of someone I know." He couldn't take his eyes off her.

She was just too similar looking to someone precious that he left behind.

"It's okay, sir." She smiled gently, like the way she usually does when Steve apologizes for his impulsiveness of picking a fight in alleyways. She looked up to the taller man as she continued, "Thank you for being alive..." she hesitated to call him by his name so instead she called for his other name, "...Captain."

She thanked him sincerely before walking away, leaving Steve to reminisce the memories of his life with Y/N and Bucky as he stared at Bucky's memorial.

The next week, she left the United States for Asia where she planned to spend 4 years studying at the National University of Singapore, leaving her past behind in hopes of moving forward with her life, refusing to care about the avengers shenanigans anymore, including her dear friend, Steve.

New York, 2018 – New norms

When half of the population was wiped out from the earth, two of them was Y/N's parents. And like every other people who had lost their loved ones during the blip, her parents sudden absence truly take a toll on her, especially when she was planning to live a long life with them.

After graduating and getting a decent job in Singapore, she was forced to go back to New York when it happened. Y/N couldn't just let her childhood house left abandoned, she simply can't let that happen.

You would thought a person who had multiple lifetimes would be used to losing someone they love but no. It only gets worst as the years go by.

The more Y/N tried to fit into the new norms, the more that she could feel herself slipping into old habits of her 6th life.

Until that one drunken night when she visited the Smithsomian Museum again after years of forcing herself to forget about him; it took her one look at the potrait of Bucky, she knew what she had to do.

Germany, 2023 – An old nemesis

Nearly 5 years into the blip and Y/N was already becoming a legend in the underground scene. They called her the Deathstalker. She never really knew the origin of it but nevertheless she chooses to stick with the newly founded identity.

With the skills she picked up on her 6th life, she easily became the most deadly assassin in the business, seemingly in a constant competition of reputation with the highly popular, black widow assassins.

Though she couldn't care less about who was winning the battle, she only cares about tracking anything or anyone related to Hydra.

After that fateful night at the museum, she couldn't to think that this must be her calling.

If the curse made her technically immortal, then why not became the hunter destined to slay the monster. They said that Hydra will never die, but so was she. And if anything good came out from this curse, then she might as well use it to avenge Bucky.

And bring the old nemesis to the ground.

Her 6th life was similar to this but she wasn't going to make the same mistake. The flaming greed to have her revenge was too strong back then, it lead her to be hasty and clumsy, which then let her to an early death.

But, she's grown out of those immaturity.

Nowadays, she takes her time and still get the job done flawlessly. Just like she is now, when the soft but dark sound of her chuckle, interrupted the silence that had claimed the room.

The poor man was sitting limp on the chair with his body tied with it. He had been like this for seemingly hours with a knife in one of his thighs, which trembled with the vibrations of his body.

More so, when Y/N twisted them, causing a keen of pain to clawed up his throat and spilled out a hoarse groan.

"Where is it?" Her fingers wrapped around the handle, as she watched the man tossed his head, more with fear than trying to answer.

"I don't like to repeat myself." Y/N slid the blade free, causing a noise he would not forget. The man sagged against his bonds, panting as he watched the blood surged and dribbled out of the wound.

But then he felt the prick against his other leg, wide eyes turning to watch as the knife was held above his skin, Y/N's hand flat against the top, ready to push in. "Where the fuck is it?" her tone was eerie as the voice changer in her mask produced an emotionless robotic effect on it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The thick german accent seethed through his voice as he grunted in pain.

There was only boredom in Y/N's eyes as she gazes straight into his. A stab of the knife went through his thigh without a warning, until the tip of it almost met the flat surface of the chair beneath it.

The whole room echoed with the sound of the whimpering and cries of his struggle, "Please, I swear to God I don't know what you're talking about." He pleaded as fast as he can, when he felt the shortage of breaths in his lungs due to dealing with the excruciating pain.

"Playing dumb isn't going to help you, mutt." She twisted the knife, pulled out and stabbed it again causing him to fall into an almost delirious state, "Please, please please, I swear I don't know anything about the serum." He blurted out of misery.

There it was.

The thing she wanted to hear.

Y/N's eyebrow quirked in interest, "I never mentioned the serum in our conversation, no?"

He fucked up.

He knew that he fucked up.

But, does it matter when his body was searing in pain?

By the end of the intense interrogation, Y/N finally got the intel she needed to find and destroy whatever was left behind by Wilfred Nagel, who was recruited by the CIA to recreate the super soldier serum.

Those greedy fuckers just cannot stay away from things that shouldn't be meddled with. Even Y/N could see the potential threats of a successful recreation the super soldier serum; they were practically asking for Hydra to revive to its glory days.

And she would not allow that to happen.

She needed to destroy it before its finished.

A loud wail left the man's lips, almost sounded a little strained as he had been screaming in pain for hours. Y/N mercilessly grabbed him by his sweaty chin as she pried his mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming, the man begged, "Oh lord, please please help me please."

Leaning closer she coldly spoke, "The gods doesn't care about you. Trust me I've been there." With a swift strike, she forced her knife down his throat, and a splash of red tainted her mask, nearly got into her eyes but she managed to blink before it does.

She stood still as she watched him gurgle on his own blood as death collected his soul. Wiping the blood away from her eyelid, she walked out of the abandoned building with a mission to finish; all the while blissfully oblivious to the war that the avengers were fighting to their death on the other side of the world.

Madripoor, 2024 – The most prized asset

The returned of her parents were as sudden as the lost. Though she was glad that they were back, however she had to live a double life now that they kept asking about her job and personal life as they wanted to catch up for the lost of time in 5 years.

Y/N felt bad for lying to her parents but it was for their own good. Now, that she had sent them to a honeymoon to travel all over Europe, she felt better in pursuing her mission without concerns.

Besides the joyful return there was also the awful ones.

Now, that Wilfred Nagel was back from the blip. The serum was perfected to its finest version. And was stolen by bunch of kids protesting for equal rights.

What a fucking mess that was.

But, she would deal with that later. The main focus right now was to find the man itself. There would be no more serums if the source is eradicated.

That was her priority.

With her face hidden behind her signature mask, Y/N walked through the messy crowd as she searches for Shelby's men. This should be a short meeting, since Shelby and her had history together; or more to a favour that she owns to Y/N.

However, when she tried to tune in into the hushed conversations in the crowd, she noticed that the murmurs seemed to be divided into two hot topics; one about the sudden appreance of the Deathstalker, which was herself, and second was surprisingly about the return of another notorious assassin.

Then when the conversations died down, a fight suddenly broke out. Y/N hold on the handle of her blades from the side of her thighs, as she stiffed into a defensive mode.

While on the other hand, the crowd seemed to be more interested in recording the fight, than avoiding it.

She seemlessly weaved her way through the people, only to see that the action ended with a man choked onto the table of bar. The attacker's face turned away from her where she could only see his figure from the back.

Then, a gleam of gold caught her attention, Y/N squinted her eyes as she analyzed the man's left arm.

It was not the pattern of the sleeve from his suit.

It was his arm.

A black bionic arm.

Which reminded of her of someone she came across in her 6th life; but his was a tin foil silver with a red star on his upper arm. At the time, he was Hydra's most prized asset, they called him the Winter Soldier.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: yes, I am well aware that left y'all hanging but I still hope you enjoy this one. Tell me what you think so far, I'm curious if y'all cry at the part where she received the letter or maybe you can comment of something else, I'd still love to hear them ♡

#winterarmyyfics #promise me au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky #1940s!bucky #tfatws!bucky

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lanasblood · 1 year

Text

* indicates explicit content (mdni)

AVATAR (JAMES CAMERON)

neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan

BIG EYES, BIG LIES (5.8k) you've had suffered silently from years of bullying within the metkayina clan, never sharing your pain with anyone, not even your boyfriend neteyam, until one day, there's no other option, resulting in a huge argument between the two of you but also a moment of understanding and healing.

HOW DO I MAKE YOU LOVE ME (10k) one particular night, you remember all of your attempts to make neteyam fall in love with you, using various methods, experiencing numerous failures, and you finally come to a conclusion.

SORROWS FOR STARBOY (on-going series) after fate brought you to awa’atlu and you felt hope for the first time in so long, the sea became the lonely witness of a bittersweet love, making you quickly realize how life withers as fast as it blossoms [takes place five years after the events of atwow]

JUST NETEYAM (8k) despite being from a different clan and expected to marry the leader of the omatikaya without knowing him, you agree to it for the sake of your family, but doubts start haunting you the moment you set foot in the clan, causing you to plan your escape on the day of your mating ceremony.

SLEEPLESS (1.9k) while discussing sleeping arrangements with lo'ak, you may have unintentionally revealed more than just the reason why you don't want him to sleep next to you.

* HOTTER THAN SIN (3k) at night, you find yourself seeking solace and comfort in the arms of your lover while conflicting emotions highlight your struggle between duty and true happiness.

* VIVID DREAMS (1.2k) what do you call the phenomenon, where you cannot control the longing in your eyes or the fire in your loins, where you consistently fall in love with someone every time you see them? as for neteyam, this someone is you.

MARVEL (MCU)

miguel o'hara

* TEMPTATIONS (3.6k) in the midst of a vibrant nightclub, you found yourself consumed by a heady mix of desire and anticipation as you encountered miguel o'hara for the very first time, and oh, what an encounter that was.

#lana's masterlist #lanasblood #masterlist #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam #avatar twow #neteyam x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara

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3mcwriting · 1 year

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Any Fan's Dream, Part 2

Any Fan's Dream Masterlist

Synopsis:

When you look around and see Avengers Tower in front of you and Peter Parker beside you, you wonder how the hell you managed to get into the MCU.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Peter asked, unlocking the door to his home. He opened the door, you followed him inside.

"For the hundredth time Peter, I'm fine." you said, smiling at him to try to reassure him. "Promise. In fact, I've never been better!"

And you meant it. After all, you got to meet the Avengers and you were close to Peter Parker and you're pretty sure your heart stopped beating multiple times today out of excitement.

"You were kidnapped." Peter said, how were you this happy?

"I know!" You nodded, you got to get kidnapped by Loki! And he kissed your hand! Your hand! You remembered that people weren't supposed to be this excited after getting snatched. You tried to cover it up, and grinned when you thought of a way to distract him. "I'm just excited because I got to meet Spider-Man! He picked me up and swung me to the Tower, it was so awesome!"

You had the time of your life while swinging through the city with Peter, it was so exciting and you couldn't help but enjoy the rush. You were still unsure about whether you were dreaming or hallucinating or you actually somehow got transported to the MCU. But you had started to lean toward the latter explanation. You'd never had a dream this vivid and detailed, so either you were actually there in the apartment with Peter or you were on drugs.

"You met Spider-Man?" Peter asked, trying to look shocked.

You laughed at his bad acting, although he just assumed it was a happy laugh. "Yep! It was so cool!"

"Peter? Who is this young lady you’re standing in the dark hallway with?" a familiar woman asked, a smile on her face.

You had to clap a hand over your mouth to not scream. HOLY SHIT IT'S AUNT MAY!! You realized how weird that must've looked and forced a cough to try to explain the strange action.

"Oh uh May, this is (n/n)-I mean (y/n). (y/n), this is my Aunt May." Peter said, tripping over his words.

May's smile grew. "Ah, (n/n)? Nice to meet you, I've heard a lot about you."

Peter flushed, sending her a look.

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you, finding their relationship wholesome. "Nice to meet you too, Ms. Parker. Glad to hear that Peter talks about me as much as he talks about you."

"I like her," May laughed, "be nice to her, Peter." Peter, whose face was still red, just nodded. May let loose another laugh, but left the two of you with an, "I'm going to bed. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

You laughed at the expression on Peter's face, collapsing into breathless chuckles. He rubbed the nape of his neck, the tips of his ears red. He glanced at your expression and laughed along with you until the two of you were laying on the floor giggling like five-year-olds.

The two of you spent the next half hour laying on the floor, one of you laughing randomly and then the other giggling at the laugh that came out of nowhere. The two of you played 'would you rather?' and multiple times had to hold in laughter so you wouldn't be too loud and wake up May.

At one point, Peter's answer surprised you so much, you had to slap both hands over your mouth to keep from howling with laughter. You were focused on trying not to release the laugh and didn't notice the way your face had scrunched up like an angry chipmunk. Peter noticed and had to copy your movements so he wouldn't be the one to wake up May. And then you looked like an angry chipmunk and he looked like a constipated duck.

The two of you couldn't hold your laughter after that and you both dissolved into raucous laughter.

"May definitely heard that," Peter choked out between giggles.

You knew he hadn't said anything particularly funny, but for some reason that comment killed you and you joined him in breathless laughter.

May did wake up. She walked out of her room to find the two of you rolling around on the floor and laughing like hyenas.

Her expression of 'wtf is going on?' only caused the two of you to laugh even harder.

"I'm telling you Peter, you didn't need to walk me home." you said, which was a complete lie. You had absolutely no clue where you lived, you had just like spawned into this world and had no idea where you lived.

"It's no problem, (y/n)." He smiled at you. "You live pretty close."

The two of you continued down the hall. Peter had to grasp your wrist to keep you from walking past the apartment.

"Whoops," you laughed nervously. "Do you wanna come in?"

Peter looked shocked, "uh-into your house?"

"No, into the sewers. Yes, Peter. Into my house." you reaffirmed.

He glanced at his phone and deflated when he saw the time. "Sorry, I can't. It's late and I have to get back."

You nodded in understanding. "That's fine. Maybe another time?"

He grinned. "Sounds good."

"Bye, Peter."

"Bye, (n/n)."

The two of you stood there. Peter was waiting for you to get into your apartment then he would leave, and you were just standing there.

You remembered that you had to knock on the door. You rapped your knuckles against the off-white door, alerting your family to your presence at the door.

The two of you continued standing there staring at each other until your mom answered the door.

"Bye again, Peter."

"Bye again, (y/n)."

You closed the door behind you, following your mother-was she your mother? She looked the exact same. Well, except for the warm smile she had when she opened the door. It wasn't that your mom from back home didn't smile, just that her smiles always seemed forced. Your relationship with your parents from your world wasn't horrible, you just didn't really have a relationship. Both of them were workaholics so you barely even saw them. They weren't mean or abusive, they just weren't there.

"That Tony Stank had you at work so late-"

She said it!! She said it!!

You snorted at the name. "It's Stark, mom. Not 'Stank'."

You were surprised by how easy it was to call her 'mom', but you guessed it was the whole "you're-my-mom-but-not-really" thing.

"Stank, Stark, either way he had you home way too late. What is he doing? Child labor?" She shook her head.

You smiled. "Technically not child labor, I'm 18."

Your mom rolled her eyes. "You and your technicalities. Now, who was that young boy at the door?"

"That's Peter, he went to the same school as me."

You hoped you were right, but truthfully you had no clue how the other you and Peter had met. You could see a picture of you in a blue gown with your parents on the wall behind your mom. You assumed you had just graduated, and based on the sunny-ness outside earlier, it was either summer or just a very bright day.

Your mom raised an eyebrow at the grin on your face, but decided not to press you for it. "So, did you at least eat?"

Your stomach growled in response, answering your mother's question. You smiled at her sheepishly, and she sighed in exasperation. In your defense, you were too occupied by the fact that you were kidnapped by LOKI and you met the mfing AVENGERS so excuse your forgetfulness but goddamn you wanted to simp and fangirl over them.

"When you move out you're going to starve," your mother said. "Come on, I'll heat you up some leftovers."

After eating(which was take-out from this Thai place that was positively heavenly), you went to "your" room. It was a pretty nice room, a fluffy gray rug in the middle with a messy bed shoved into the right corner at the opposite end of the room from the entrance. A desk was against the wall to your left, and a TV was hooked on the wall across from your bed, presumably so "you" could watch TV in bed. The rest of the wall space was occupied by bookshelves and posters.

You threw yourself on "your" bed, marveling at the way the bedroom showed so much about the person that lived there. Your actual room back home was somewhat empty, your parents had never taken the time to buy you anything and you had been too busy trying to graduate high school with high marks so you could go somewhere far away for college.

You had one friend, and they were more of just a person who took the same classes as you so you helped each other out a lot. But even that was pretty impersonal, neither of you knew much about each other.

You shook thoughts about your world from your head, not wanting to dwell on your rather pathetic life back there.

"Hey! Go take a shower and go to bed!"

"Better listen to mumsy, I guess." you muttered.

You sipped the beverage, praising Peter as you did so. "You're so awesome, Peter. I mean it." you said, drinking your favorite beverage.

"It really wasn't a problem," Peter protested, cheeks flushed at your constant compliments.

You knew that people probably didn't normally get this happy about a drink, but he brought you your favorite drink! Peter Parker got you your favorite drink! So you didn't really care that your praise might've seemed excessive, to you, it was the bare minimum. How else were you supposed to react? What? Say 'thank you' and leave it at that? But then you wouldn't get to see the adorable blush that was slowly turning Peter's face red. You couldn't miss the chance, that would be a crime against Marvel fans everywhere.

"So, uh, what're you gonna do at Mr. Stark's today?" Peter asked nervously, trying to get the subject off of him before he exploded.

You side-eyed Peter, knowing exactly what he was doing. You allowed it though, acknowledging that if his face got any more red it might be mistaken for a stoplight. "Building a cannon that shoots pears."

"You're-what?"

"Yeah, then I'm gonna go assault Flash with the fruits." You snickered at the thought that popped into your head of Flash trying to dodge pears.

Peter laughed. "Can you make me a cannon too?"

You turned serious. "Bold of you to assume you're worthy of the mighty pear launcher."

"My mistake, my mistake.” Peter apologized. “Might I have the honor of shooting a pear at Flash?"

You hummed, thinking about it. "I suppose."

"Thanks for walking with me, wouldn't want to be kidnapped twice in a row."

Actually if it was Loki then you probably wouldn't mind-

Peter frowned. "You shouldn't joke about that."

"I promise, Peter, I am like 99%." you assured him. "But if you really wanna help, can I have a hug?"

Peter fought to keep the frown on his face but couldn't, "I guess. After all, we're gonna go shoot Flash with pears later. You need to be at 100."

You nodded, "I know. Which is why we should hug."

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you, you returning the embrace. You didn't think you'd ever get used to that. Everyone there gave such great hugs. You did not know how you had gone this long without a hug from Peter Parker. Someone cleared their throat behind the two of you and you were about ready to beat a bitch, but you let go and-

You squealed.

You honest to god, squealed.

But who could blame you?

Wanda Maximoff was standing there, giving the two of you apologetic smiles as she tried to go through the doorway the two of you were blocking.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything, but I have to get through." Wanda apologized, stepping through the doorway.

You could only stare as she walked away, frozen while she left.

"What was that?" Tony's voice interrupted your stupor, he had just arrived in the room to take you back to his lab. "You okay, kid?"

You could only nod dumbly and follow Tony to wherever the two of you worked, waving at Peter mindlessly, mind still on the fact that YOU JUST MET WANDA MAXIMOFF AND DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!!

You were ashamed of yourself.

The two of you entered a workroom, countless screens glowing, displaying different inventions on them. You looked around in awe, you were in Tony Stark's workshop!

You remembered, "can we make a pear shooter?"

Tony shook his head. "Sorry kid. Today we're making you an iron man suit."

You screamed.

"Holy shit! What was that?!" Tony looked at you, concerned.

"ThisisamazingicandiehappyholywhattheactualfuckYESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"

Tony could only stare at you as you hopped around, giggling like a gorilla on drugs.

"You are so amazing Mr. Iron-Man-Boss-Sir."

"Okay, I think that's enough for today." Tony dusted his hands off, "Capsicle and Triple Imposter are waiting for you. They're in the training room."

You nodded, the grin you had had been there for hours and Tony was beginning to get concerned that your face was going to freeze like that. You left the room to go to the training room then remembered-

You had no clue where the fuck the training room was.

So you wandered, seeing a lot of interesting rooms and then remembered-

"Hey, uh FRIDAY? Could you tell me where the training room is?"

"Of course, Miss (l/n). Continue going down the hall until there's another hallway, then turn right and the training room is the third door on your left."

"Thanks, FRIDAY."

"You're welcome."

You followed the directions, eventually arriving at the door FRIDAY had instructed and you pushed it open.

Your jaw dropped as you stepped into the colossal room. It was a large rectangular room, workout equipment to one side, mats to another, and a variety of different weapons on the back wall. Your eyes caught on a sword, an actual sword? Wait a minute, why is there a sword? None of them use swords. Well, Clint does but that's later. Speaking of which, where is Clint? Oh he's proba-

"You took your time getting here," Natasha was wrapping her knuckles. She was dressed in a simple tank top and leggings, classic workout attire.

"I got lost," you admitted. Natasha had cut off your train of thought, causing your mind to blank for a second.

Steve laughed. "How? You've basically lived with us since you graduated."

You took a mental note of that. "You can't say anything, you need help to unlock your phone."

Natasha laughed. "She got you there, Stevie-o."

Steve cracked a smile, not taking offense. "Alright, alright. We should begin your training now."

#mcu #marvel x reader #the avengers #avengers x reader #tony stark #clint barton #steve rodgers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #peter parker x reader #loki x reader #thor x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #any fan's dream

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i-write-boop-spoops · 1 year

Note

How do you think Leon and Steven react to a singer s/o

No joke, somehow this ask has been in my drafts for over a year, basically done.... so sorry about this anon!

OMG anon you have given me such vivid ideas ok

Naturally, they would both be very in awe of your voice and presence on stage. They would be extremely supportive of you too, trying to attend as many performances of yours as possible.

But that’s not what I find interesting about this, instead I wanted to talk a bit about what kind of singer you are, and how that would affect the relationship.

So with Steven I can totally see you as a lounge singer, you know the sultry elegant kind, dressed in a beautiful sleek dress/suit, performing at a very exclusive club. The moment Steven first laid eyes on you, he was in love, the moment he first heard you sing, his jaw hit the floor. Now, of course, this wasn’t the first time a rich somebody had takena liking to you, your beauty and talent combined with your job often landed you in their lines of sight. But you felt he was different, genuine, quirky, sweet - maybe because your dear friend Wallace had gushed to you about how great he was.

Of course Wallace was also there that night, having invited Steven there to 1. get him to have a little fun and 2. meet you and fall in love, though obviously he didn’t mention the second part. After your performance he insisted to Steven that they both say hi to you, and very quickly he was ignored (the only time he was happy this happened btw), in favour of you and steven just instantly clicking and spending the rest of the evening chatting.

Since you do more lowkey work, despite rubbing elbows with a lot of famous and/or wealthy people, your life is pretty quiet for the most part, which suits both you and steven greatly.

He loves sitting at the front-most table with a drink in hand, smiling this proud, precious little smile that only you know the nature of, mesmerized by your voice and beauty.

And while usually quite humble, he can't help revel in the envy when you turn your admirers down. He loves the chance to swoop in and put a casual, but delicate hand on your back while someone tries to make a move on you.

Also he now supplies you with most of your jewellery. You love wearing pieces that incorporate stones and gems he’s collected for you.

With Leon, I love the idea of a celebrity couple trying to live a private life, like you’re a world-famous superstar singer and Leon’s the fucking unbeatable champion. I imagine a LOT of paparazzi photos of the two of you in the mcu-style baseball-cap-sunglasses disguise trying to grab coffee or something. You two are frequently the subject of gossip-columns and twitter-stan wars.

Wyndon stadium was being used to host one of your sold-out concerts, you arrived the day before, and were practising your choreo on the stage with your back-up dancers. Leon, finishing up at the in-stadium gym for the day, decided to come out to watch, being a fan of you. Being a fan of him too(especially in that tank-top he was wearing 👀), you gladly delighted in his presence, even taught him some of the moves. When you took a break, you got to flirting chatting and swapped numbers. You invited to come to your show the next day, and made sure he got VIP backstage access. The rest as they say, is history.

A plus of the both of you being famous, is that you're used to the spotlight, which means Leon gets to show you off at red carpets, promotional events, after-parties etc. A downside is, you're both very busy, you often tour abroad, but you always try your best to see each other and call everyday.

Not that your love songs were bad before you and Leon starting dating but they got so much more emotional, relatable and memorable after you started seeing the Galar Champ!

You've won best-dressed couple at the Poké-Met gala two years in a row (thanks to your stylist, you can't trust Lee with this kind of stuff).

#ask #ask boopy #steven stone #champion leon #steven stone x reader #champion leon x reader

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citrus-moonlight · 6 months

Text

Salvation is a Deep Dark Well

Chapter 1: Let's Cover Up What We Really Want

[ Masterlist ]

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther

Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader

Word count: 11.4K

Chapters: 1/5

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Memories and fresh desires are intertwined now and you think you might go mad from the waiting, but all you can do is try to keep yourself busy as you count down to Klaue’s return.

Warnings: Explicit!, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Use of Pet Names, Mention of Insecurity, Smut, Masturbation, Wall Sex, Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Face Sitting, Vaginal Fingering, Couch Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Mild Size Kink, Soft Dom, Love Bites, Thigh Riding, Frottage, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Porn With Accidental Plot, More Accidental Feelings Oh No

AN: Hello everyone, we're back! Thank you for your patience, this was definitely a much longer time coming than I anticipated but I'm relieved to finally be here! Life happens, and everyone struggles for one reason or another, and I'm no different. It definitely became more than I anticipated but I'm glad I worked through it and that I can finally share this with you! As always, really and truly thank you so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoy the return of the menace that is Klaue. 😉

AO3 Link

Title is from "Dirty Love" by Mt. Joy

I know you think I think too much But I don't know if it's enough Dirty love, all I want are your eyes on mine And underneath of it all I dream of a thousand shooters Hallelujahs, are unable to save us

Twelve days.

It had been so much worse this time, the waiting.

Now that you know the weight of him pressing into you, the soft brush of his fingers as they tip your chin up, making you just as wet as the tight grip of his fist in your hair, the way that every damn word out of his mouth feels fine tuned to drive you mad and be grateful for it, leaving you writhing and opening for him in a way that you hadn’t anticipated.

You’ve spoken to Klaue once since that night, your stomach doing flips every time you read and re-read your text conversation with him. Still processing his admission that he’d been thinking about you, still not entirely prepared to believe that there might be something in you that he wants, the way that you’re starting to realize that you want him.

It’s easier to assume that him seeking you out is nothing more than surface level, so you keep those thoughts quieter and separate from the rest, not wanting to read more into his words than are really there.

After Klaue left you had slept hard.

The next morning your mind is soft and clear when your eyes blink open, a notable change from the usual fog that you have to work to shake off. You don’t even remember falling asleep, and chuckle when you realize that you’re in the exact same position as when you had laid down, face stuffed gracelessly into your pillow with the covers half pulled over you.

Warm imprints of a dream trail after you, not dissimilar to the ones you’ve been having recently, although these are particularly vivid; ghosts of Klaue’s hands gripping your hips, his tongue sliding wet and hungry between your thighs.

But then you move, and when you stretch your arms above your head the contented sound you make deepens to a full moan at the sudden soreness that tugs though nearly every muscle in your body. Your thighs squeeze together against the ache that you feel between them, too, and the confused “what on Earth did I do yesterday??" shifts on a wave of realization that knocks you breathless.

Oh Jesus, it wasn’t a dream.

A wave of memories pulls you all the way awake and your body follows as the entirety of last night comes flooding back: You on your knees in your workroom, his body trapping you against your door, him pushing you to admit what you needed until he was fucking you and filling you and praising you, and your breath catches as the still raw ache twines itself together with fresh desire.

“Shit!” You gasp when your eyes fall on the nightstand clock, suddenly realizing that you’re going to be late for your shift, and you’ve never been late.

Trying to move as quickly as you can, you throw some clothes on the bed and splash water on your face, hastily pulling your hair back while fighting stiff muscles and distracting thoughts. As you start to pull your pants on your fingers absent-mindedly brush over a dark smudge on your leg, but when it doesn’t move you look closer.

Your breath hangs for several beats when you see the pattern of rose petal bruises trailing their way up the inside of your thighs, mementos that Klaue’s mouth had left on your skin and suddenly “late” and “early” are no longer concepts you’re particularly concerned with.

Clothes and work forgotten you fall back on the bed, a hand slipping beneath the edge of your underwear to press against your clit, and it doesn’t take long before your breath is coming in short gasps as you tremble against your tightly circling fingers. All it takes is the memory of his eyes looking up at you as his mouth hovered over your sex, equal parts impatient and imploring while he waited for you to say his name, and then you’re over the edge, your muscles clenching around the lingering ache of him deep in your cunt.

Twelve days since your own touch had been nowhere near enough.

A couple of days later it suddenly occurs to you mid-shift that the ache in your muscles has faded, and you immediately miss the tactile reminder of him even when you’re just walking around.

You hadn't really realized how long it had been since you'd been touched.

Normally it’s not something that tends to take up a lot of space in your mind, but once in a while you do find yourself thinking about the press of someone else’s skin against yours, a cool longing that curls itself up somewhere behind your sternum. But you’ve still never quite understood when people said they were “touch starved”, and more often than not being touched required an effort on your part, a consciousness that was tiring and made you too aware of the edges of your body.

You had never been overwhelmed by friction, by singing nerves and sliding teeth, had never felt yourself succumb to it - or been made to.

You’d already had a feeling that you might be in trouble when it came to Klaue, but now you’re almost certain. Because now you need it, his touch, and you wonder if he knew that you would. Every thought bound to his fingertips so that no matter where your mind wanders it always makes its way back to him, to the sharp sting of his palm, the pad of his thumb trailing along your neck.

So you try to do what you can to occupy yourself while you mentally tick off the days, just keeping as busy as you can, reminding yourself that first and foremost you’re here to do a job.

You start to work overtime to try and fill as much of your days as possible, but when you arrive on the ninth straight day and the fourth of self-imposed doubles, one of the shift managers you’re not as familiar with jogs over and blocks your path to the lockers.

“Uhh, what’s up?”

The man is lanky and tall, he must be at least 6’5” and it feels like you have to look almost straight up to make eye contact.

“Not today.” He states simply.

Ahh, right. As soon as you hear his accent you can’t believe that you forgot about actual Vlad from actual Romania.

“Not what today?” You frown up at him.

“Work.”

“Ok, I’m going to need a bit more than that,” you say, trying to walk around him, but he matches you and moves to block your path.

“Boss’s orders.”

“You’re not my boss, Vlad. So I’m not sure what you’re-”

“Not me,” he rolls his eyes, clearly thinking you’re daft. “You know, ‘The Boss?’ Do I not say it right?” He uses his fingers to make air quotes in an attempt to clarify his meaning and you blink with realization.

“Klaue??”

“Yes. Now go away. Two days.”

It’s one thing for Klaue to know your schedule, honestly that doesn’t surprise you, but is he really trying to stop you from working?

Vlad just shrugs when you narrow your eyes at him, but you know he’s right. It’s not in his hands and it’s a waste of breath to argue.

“Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.” You finally give in and turn to leave.

“No, he says two-”

“Are you serious? It would have been a regular scheduled shift anyway, so I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Vlad frowns, unsure what to do with your resistance.

“I’ll just work the first shift, no doubles.” You try to reassure him.

“He won't like it.”

“Then don’t tell him.” You turn away with a shrug as if that’s the obvious solution and not entirely delusional.

“He’ll find out!”

“Well, he’ll have to deal with it!” You say over your shoulder as you begrudgingly make your way back to your bunk.

You’re annoyed and unprepared for a day off and you can’t stand just sitting around with your nervous energy, so since it’s still early enough and the days-long autumn rain seems to have paused, you decide to drive a couple of hours away to a mountain lake bordered by trails.

The weather is cool but perfect for hiking, and although the trail is steep and pocked with ankle deep mud in spots, you enjoy the ache that accumulates in your joints the longer you walk.

After stopping for an early supper at a small lodge in the area with the resident orange tabby Mizzy (Marzipan is his full name, the server informs you) keeping you company on the next chair over, you still manage to return just after sunset.

* * *

Despite the physical fatigue from your hike you still sleep fitfully and end up wide awake in the early morning hours, which is when you notice the notification light on your phone, a flashing point next to your bed.

Your stomach does a very intense loop when you see that it’s a text from Klaue and you quickly sit up, flipping on your bedside light.

> Have you been thinking about me?

Oh.

You check the timestamp: thirty-seven minutes ago. You don’t know where he is so you have no way of knowing what time it would be for him. Would he even respond now, or would he be distracted with something else? Is he with people or alone, or has he fallen asleep? A hundred thoughts flit through your head, but you’re also buzzing from the fact that he reached out, and is likely well aware of what time it is where you are.

What the hell, you think, and type a reply.

> Yes. > I haven’t been able to do much else, if I’m being honest.

You try to convince yourself that you don’t care if he responds, even if the staccato rhythm of your heart says otherwise, but you don’t have to dwell for long because after a few minutes you nearly gasp when a new message notification buzzes.

> I’m pleased to hear it. > You took yesterday off?

Ok. Right to business, then.

> I did.

> And today.

> I haven’t decided yet.

You hit send, chewing your lower lip as you wait, but his response is decidedly quick this time.

> That wasn’t a question.

Shifting under the covers, you’re reminded that even through text his words have the ability to have your body swiftly warming.

> I know.

> And?

You pause, thumbs hovering over the screen. You really haven’t decided, and you could say no or yes to him now and still end up changing your mind in the morning. Maybe you'll be exhausted and willing to take the break, or you might still have energy to burn and want the distraction.

There’s no other reason, surely, why you wouldn’t just do what he says.

> Ok. I won’t work tomorrow.

> Good.

> I’ve been thinking about you, too.

You inhale a shaky breath as your thighs squeeze together, the warmth that swirls there adding a boldness to your response.

> I’ve been wondering if you were. That makes me feel good.

It really fucking does, you realize, one of your hands working its way beneath the covers, and you shiver as you press the damp fabric of your underwear against your cleft.

> Well, I do enjoy making you feel good. > I'm looking forward to doing it again.

> What if you already were?

There’s a pause, longer than the rest, heat growing between your legs while you wait. Then:

> Where are you right now, darling?

You're still working out a reply when another message comes through.

> As much as I would prefer to continue this conversation, I have to go.

You slump with a grumble of frustration, however you perk up with his next message.

> But I should be back in two days.

Which means he’ll be back sooner than he’d said.

> I guess I'll just have to keep thinking about you until then.

You don't receive a reply back after your last text, but that doesn't stop you from moaning his name into your pillow, your heart continuing to beat hard in your chest long after as you think about how soon you'll see him. Finally drifting back to sleep just as morning light starts to illuminate the small window in your room.

* * *

You really do try to stick to what you'd agreed to but by the afternoon you’re once again too antsy to sit still, and your annoyance at Klaue telling you what to do is creeping back in. He may run the place but it’s not like he’s the one setting schedules, and would he actually care if you worked or not? Or even notice?

You had hoped that Vlad wouldn’t be there or that you would be able to avoid him, but the man appears seemingly out of nowhere - an impressive feat with his height. He just stands there with a long arm extended and wordlessly points towards the door, unphased by the scowl you aim back over your shoulder as you turn away in defeat.

You've just finished a complicated project and are in the process of prepping the next phase when you notice a bustle of movement out of the corner of your eye, and then Tom walks into the workshop and lets everyone know it’s time to head to the loading dock.

He's back.

Every nerve in your body fires awake in a single hot surge and you have to fight to keep your expression and body language neutral while you hastily put away your gear and join the others.

As soon as you make it to the dock you immediately start scanning the crowd and it feels like you can't get a full breath, like you’re being held underwater with your lips hovering just beneath the plane of surface tension and even though you're so close to a lungful of air it may as well be a mile away.

Your heart jumps when you think you catch a flash of tattooed skin through the crowd. Someone pushes roughly past your elbow but you barely register it, your eyes flicking from face to face in the spot where you think you saw him, and then your breath is caught in your chest when two bodies part and the sharp profile and unmistakable arc of black ink emerges.

Focused on his conversation Klaue doesn’t see you yet, so you watch and wait, your eyes not leaving him as he discusses something with a man you don’t recognize, a frown of concentration knitting his brows.

He looks rather the worse for wear, clothes dark and stained at the edges and the rest of him no better, his hands and arms smudged almost up to his elbows. Your mind goes hazy as you drink him in, overwhelmed by the thought of those hands grabbing your thighs, digging into the flesh of your hips and leaving smudges behind on your clean skin. Marking you.

Crossing your arms tight against your chest you try to tamp down the tremble in your limbs when he eventually steps forward and starts issuing instructions, and as you watch you think you can see his gaze moving deliberately over the crowd, your breath coming shallower as he gets closer to where you're standing.

Then his eyes flick past you for a fraction of a second before returning to lock with yours, a hitch in his voice when they do. It’s nothing more than a brief stumble, a handful of words haltingly spoken before continuing on like normal, but you’re sure you hear it.

He keeps his gaze fixed on you now, and even from a distance his sharp blue eyes have you held and pinned beneath them.

And you don’t look away this time.

When Klaue approaches you afterwards you’re barely able to get out a “Hi” before you’re interrupted by a very large man saying something about a call from The Chancellor.

It feels in that moment like maybe you actually could produce daggers from your eyes if you concentrated hard enough, but your frustration is tempered with sharp satisfaction when you see the flash of fear in the man’s eyes at the look Klaue gives him as he slowly turns to acknowledge the update.

Once the messenger has slunk away, he turns back at you, resignation clear in his expression, but a glint of promise in his words.

“I’ll find you.”

* * *

By the time everyone disperses your shift is over, and not knowing how long Klaue is going to be you decide to change and head to your workroom to pass some time. It’s turned into an unseasonably warm day and with no air conditioning currently running the facility is steadily warming up, so on a whim you decide on a dress, throwing on a simple knee-length white cotton shift with your boots.

A couple of hours later you've already reorganized all of your materials twice and now you're leaning over your sketchbook, a reference photo of the mountains from your hike the other day open on your phone.

You try to focus on the relaxed strokes of linear shading but your mind refuses to stay put, not that it takes more than a wayward nudge to have your thoughts drifting to him instead.

You almost don’t notice your hands turn to a fresh page until graphite is finding his profile in the paper, the sharp line of his nose dipping to the curve of full lips. A few curls escaping above a sharp eyes and furrowed brow. It's not perfect but your breath still catches as his image emerges and anticipation wells up once again, a swollen river on the verge of overflowing its banks as you wonder for the seventy-fifth time if he’ll show up.

Or if you’ll end up back in your room alone when you eventually accept that he’s not coming tonight. Which is fine, you reason with yourself, fighting the granite weight that’s settling in your gut. He’s a busy man, if he doesn’t have time, then-

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

You whip around, your hand reflexively crumpling your sketch of the man who’s now framed in the doorway.

It seems like he came straight here since he's still wearing the same clothes layered with oil and grime, and although it looks like he’s made some attempt to wash them his hands and arms are the same. Even so, your eyes are quickly drawn to where they’re crossed against his chest, the fabric pulled taut beneath them.

"You found me!" You finally manage with a laugh, quickly dropping your pencil and closing the now disheveled sketchbook, wondering how long he’d been watching you.

“Thought I’d try here first. I’m glad I did.” Uncrossing his arms Klaue moves into the room, and the heat that had been tempered by frustration while you waited now reignites in your core as he approaches.

"Jesus, you really are filthy."

It takes a moment to register that you just said those words out loud, biting the tip of your tongue between your teeth when you do.

"I can go clean up," he points back into the hallway, casually turning as if he were making to leave. "It won't take lo-"

"No!” It comes out more forcefully than you intend.

He turns back to you, an initial look of surprise shifting to a soft smirk as his eyes move across your body, sharpening when they slide down over your bare legs as if just now noticing what you're wearing.

“No, I mean, you don't...have to do that.” You continue, shifting on your feet as his eyes continue their hungry path.

It's not just that you feel a peculiar madness creeping in at the thought of him leaving again, but you’re also definitely realizing that you like it. That the thought of his thick, smudged fingers contrasted against white fabric is making your breathing go shallow.

Making you itch for him to make a mess of you, too.

“How did you even get like this?” You attempt to corral your thoughts, working to keep your tone somewhere between amused and lightly incredulous.

“I was in South Africa. Lots of work needs doing, and there was a rather limited supply of soap and running water, I’m afraid,” Klaue shrugs, looking down at his hands, and you bite your lip as your own gaze follows. “I have washed since then, but I need something stronger to do a proper job.”

You want to pay attention, really you do. You would happily listen to every little thing he could think to tell you, greedily gleaning hints of where he’s been and what he does when he’s not here, fascinated on a mechanical level how he keeps this entire operation running.

But right now you’re losing the ability to focus on anything but the syrupy lust that’s pooling rapidly between your thighs.

When you look back up he's watching you with a relaxed stillness, having clearly caught you staring, and once you meet his gaze he steps the rest of the way into the room, not taking his eyes off of you as he closes the heavy door behind him.

Then your feet are carrying you across the last of the distance between you, hands quickly sliding up and around his neck where you feel firm muscle flexing beneath your fingers as Klaue’s arms wrap around your waist to pull you flush against him.

“Did you miss me, darling?”

Your heart jumps hearing the pet name again, and the intoxicating rumble that’s followed you both in dreams and waking hours pulls a shiver from deep within you, your eyes flicking between his as you tilt your head up.

“Why don’t you find out?” You pant against his lips.

Then his mouth is closing over yours, skin barely meeting before you instinctively part your lips and slip your tongue into his mouth, an arcing jolt of heat in your core at the soft growl this elicits from him. One of his hands moves to the back of your head to hold you firmly in place as he responds to you, the kiss quickly becoming messy with need as his tongue delves hungrily into your mouth in a warm, demanding slide.

You’re swiftly and willingly becoming untethered beneath his touch as you let him kiss you breathless, but your store of patience has been waning, and it suddenly drops to zero when you roll your hips and feel the ridge of his hard cock pressing into you.

Immediately your hands drop lower, sliding over his chest and abdomen and down to his belt where your fingers fumble blindly at metal and leather.

Breaking the kiss his hands quickly brush yours out of the way, and as he removes his belt you step back and reach under your dress to pull your underwear down your legs, almost tipping over as you hastily step out of them with your boots still on.

You haven’t even straightened all the way back up when you find yourself being spun and pinned against the door with a broad thigh pressed firmly between yours, the friction of the fabric of your dress dragging against your sex as your hips rock in response.

Pulling back, Klaue's dark eyes find yours as he reaches down to lift the hem of your dress, calloused fingers and cool metal trailing up to the aching spot where your thighs meet.

A gasp escapes your throat when the tips of two fingers drag along your cleft, and as they slip through the moisture that’s already gathering there something in his gaze seems to fall away, giving you a split second glimpse of a shade of blue that you’re not sure exists before snapping back in to focus on you.

As you sense the resettling of his control his fingers begin to move with purpose, parting you and sliding so easily through your damp folds, slowly circling but not touching your clit before dipping back down down to tease at your entrance.

Finding out exactly how wet you already are for him.

“You did miss me, didn’t you,” he rasps, allowing just the tip of his middle finger to slip into you before dragging the slick digit back up to circle your clit again, your hips jerking when he brushes the sensitive bud.

“Yes. God, I need you.” Your hips eagerly seek more pressure, shuddering against the slip of his finger and the low words that chase a pleased sigh to drop straight down to your core.

“I know you do, darling.”

Then he pulls away and quickly finishes undoing his pants, pushing them down to finally free his erection, and you're to keep from moaning at the intoxicating sight of his cock bobbing heavily between you. But before you can reach out to touch him with hungry fingertips he bends down to grip you under your thighs and suddenly you’re being lifted.

With a surprised ‘Oh!’ your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he presses you back against the door and you feel him adjusting his hips to line himself up with your entrance, a stuttered whine spilling from your throat as he starts to press up into you, his answering groan making your cunt clench around the thick head of his cock.

You feel almost mad with need, and there hasn’t been a day since Klaue left that the thought of him stretching you open again hadn’t crossed your mind but, god, he’s so much.

Using his shoulders and the brace of the door against your back you attempt to keep yourself somewhat lifted so that you can have a second to adjust.

"Wait, you’re..I just need to-" But your stammered words are cut off when he thrusts up again.

"Ohh, but you’re doing so well darling,” he grits out, tightening his grip on your thighs to keep you pinned in place. Christ, I’ve been thinking about being buried in you since the moment I left.”

“So’ve I,” you pant, “but oh my god, you’re- oh!”

You let out a startled cry when he suddenly pulls away from the door, and now that you’re unable to properly brace against anything the weight of your body has you sliding further down his length, trembling arms hopelessly clinging to his shoulders as he works himself deeper inside of you.

“Don’t know if I can." You plead, even as the responding roll of your hips follows the line of needy flame that’s building deep in your core

"Don’t lie, darling. Not when I know how well you take my cock, now." Klaue scolds, his hands palming your ass and helping you to take him further as you writhe against that now familiar ache of overwhelming fullness.

Every sense is filled by him as he fills your cunt; the scratch of his beard against your cheek a mirror of the teasing texture of his words, the scent of his musk leaving you lightheaded, a sinful petrichor that fills you with need even as he’s already giving you so much, and as he continues to buck up into you your fingers roughly pull the collar of his shirt aside so that you can lick hungrily along his neck.

The skin beneath your tongue tastes the way the earth must taste to the roots of a newly planted sapling. A deep amber and heady thing that has a wave of drenching heat rippling out from your core as his cock starts to slide more easily into you, a harsh need flaring hot through your veins as your muscles tense and relax, opening for the unyielding thickness of him.

And while your body softens the current of your mind goes rough, your mouth watering as you continue to kiss and lick across his skin until without consciously thinking about it, driven by something else, something low and base that you’re not sure you could name, you sink your teeth into the place where the taut muscle of his neck meets his shoulder.

With a surprised hiss you're suddenly back against the door with all of his weight pressing into you, and you cry out when a rough thrust has him finally buried deep.

“That’s my little liar,” Klaue grunts with another hard thrust.

You can’t respond in any meaningful way, only moaning brokenly as he builds a deep, steady rhythm, and it's not long until the aching stretch combined with the friction of his hips against your clit has your thoughts fading, the telltale thrum swiftly building as he fucks you.

"Going to come already, aren’t you?” He growls between rough breaths, his fingers finding new bruises in the soft flesh of your thighs as your muscles tighten around him. “Such a needy little thing."

"Ohmygodyes, I’m so close, please-"

“Hmmm, it's too bad you didn't listen, then, isn't it?”

Klaue’s words are low and measured but don't make sense as they filter through the thick haze of pleasure.

"What?" You pant as his arms flex to lift you, pulling you up and off of his cock and you brace for a hard thrust back in. But instead he slowly lowers your legs until you don’t have much choice and your booted feet reluctantly drop back down to the floor as he releases you.

“Wait. What..what’re you doing?” Your now rumpled dress falls back over your legs as you stand there breathless and achingly empty.

“You were supposed to be resting.”

Klaue’s tone chides as he tucks his erection into his pants and makes his way over to the couch.

“What?” You ask for the third time, shaking your head in confusion. And then finally it clicks. He’s referring to your self-imposed work schedule, and presumably your recent trip off-compound - not that that should be any of his business.

He raises an eyebrow as the realization dawns on your face.

“I’m not saying you can’t do overtime, that's part of the contract," he continues. "But it's hard work and you work hard, and that many days in a row plus the doubles? You’re smarter than that."

Struggling to work out a response, his praise couched in a reprimand only adds to the difficulty in regaining your equilibrium.

"You need to rest." His words are notched with an edge that doesn’t invite discussion, yet hot resistance still flares your chest.

"But I can't rest." you burst out, a new layer of frustration weaving itself in. "I can't relax, I-”

You cut yourself off with a huff before you say too much, before you admit that he's the reason you can’t relax. Your lips press together into a thin line as your jaw works.

Mention of your contract had also smarted a little, though why should it? It was a simple statement and the reason you’re here, after all.

You take a breath to steady yourself.

"It's not exactly like there's a lot to do around here, and it takes time to travel anywhere else, so I'm going to do what I can to help pass the time.” When you’re not here, you don’t add. “And by the way, you didn’t say anything about resting. You just said no work, and I didn't- "

"But you did try, didn't you?" He cuts you off with a dark look. “After you said you wouldn’t.”

Your face goes hot but you manage to not look away. Damn it, Vlad. Of course he's going to find out if you tell him.

"Listen, you don’t have to worry about me. I know my abilities and I don’t need you telling me what I can or can't do!"

Even as the words are coming out of your mouth you know that your belligerence sounds foolish.

"That's interesting.” Klaue tilts his head and you have to actively fight the instinct to take a step back when his eyes darken to a perilous shade of blue. “Because I think you're going to do exactly what I tell you to."

Despite your frustration, heat flares between your legs at the double meaning in his words.

“And right now, that means you're going to wait to come on my cock."

You can only stare at him open-mouthed while he watches you from his seat, a glint of gold flashing through the smug grin that tugs at his lips. And now you understand: He could have brought all this up as soon as he found you, but he hadn’t. He’d waited. Timing it perfectly to drive you perfectly fucking mad.

“Now, come here."

You want to protest, want to dig in your heels and resist even as his voice draws you along on the tether of unsatisfied need that he’s already woven so masterfully in you.

Instead you straighten your shoulders and slowly make your way over to the couch, trying to hide the hitch in your breath at the pleased expression on his face when you stop in front of him.

"Do you want me on my knees, again?" You ask, vividly recalling the last time you were in this very same position.

Your confidence wavers when you catch the glint in his eye, a flash of something dangerously sharp concealed beneath curling waves, but you can’t help but thrill at the moment of consideration you see there before his expression steadies again.

"Very much, darling,” Klaue hums. “But right now there’s something else I want."

You’re getting increasingly impatient to feel him again but when you move forward intending to straddle him, his hands quickly stop you and you have to step back again.

“What did I just say?” He chides with a quirk of his brow, and you let out a frustrated huff.

“That…I have to wait.” You frown but then flush when you realize that you’re actually pouting.

“To come on my cock.” He corrects you, shifting forward to sit on the edge of the couch so that you’re standing between his knees. “But I’m still going to make you come before that happens.”

Your body reacts swiftly to his words, but then you’re caught off guard when his hands slide down your legs and begin unlacing your boots, finding yourself fighting the affection that seeps into your chest when he helps you steady yourself as he removes and tosses them aside.

Your attention is quickly drawn back to his touch, though, because as soon as you’ve straightened up his hands are brushing at the hem of your dress, pushing it up ever so slightly before sliding back down to your knees.

Looking up at you Klaue watches your face, a pleased twitch on his lips when your eyelids flutter in response to the inward curl of his thumbs. You know that he can feel the muscles of your thighs tense and flex as the firm pressure of his hands moves a little higher beneath the cotton hem, inching closer to where you haven’t stopped aching for him, before dropping back down again.

“Let me see, darling." Klaue hums, his words warm and teasing.

As though you had something you were hiding from him. And he wanted it.

You begin to gather the fabric of your dress in your hands, drawing up the hem, slowly, until you see his eyes darken as your sex is exposed to him.

“Did you think about this while you were gone, too?” You tease, but you’re quickly cut off when he leans forward and drags his lips along your cleft

“Thought about what? The taste of you?” You're unable to catch the whimper in your throat when his tongue flicks out, just barely parting you.

“Or that sweet sound you make the first time my tongue touches your cunt?” His voice goes rough as hands slide around to your ass, steadying you as your hips start to rock against the agonizing tease of his lips.

“Or that smart mouth of yours.”

Klaue drags the tip of his nose along your cleft and through the thatch of hair above it, and the puff of heated breath against your sensitive flesh has you clenching around nothing.

Broad hands now move around your thighs to nudge you forward, a hand releasing your dress to reach for his shoulder for balance as he coaxes one of your legs up until your foot is resting on the cushion next to his hip.

Standing open for him now his hand doesn't hesitate to find your center, the vee of his fingers parting your lower lips to expose you further, and the look on his face as he takes you in makes the wet throb deepen as you quickly understand what he meant by want.

After what seems like an eternity of looking Klaue finally leans forward to touch you, pressing his lips against your swollen clit he lets the tip of his tongue flick out to nudge and slip against the sensitive bud, until with a satisfied hum his mouth drops open and envelopes you.

Soft grunts ripple through your sex, the wet heat of his mouth adding to the slick of your already dripping folds as he slides his lips and tongue between your legs until you begin to tremble, sucking and circling your clit until he finds that spot that makes your muscles go taut

Startled by how quickly pleasure is coalescing beneath the quick, circling pressure of his tongue you don’t even have a chance to get any words out before you're coming. You can only gasp and then your body is bowing forward and you're keening as the waves roll through you, a strong arm tightening around your leg to keep you where he wants you as you ride out the crest of your orgasm, holding you against his mouth until the needy movements of your hips begin to soften.

When Klaue finally pulls his mouth away he holds you steady until you manage to find your balance again, but when you remove your foot from the couch and go to take a step back his firm grip once again traps you in place.

"Where do you think you're going, darling? He frowns with a curious tilt of his head. “I'm not done yet."

Then you watch as he moves forward and slips off the couch, shifting himself down until he’s sitting on the floor in front of you with the top of his shoulders resting on the seat cushion, head raised to look up at you standing between his legs and your mind goes fuzzy when he licks his lips, making a show of tasting you.

“Oh, you want-”

“Take off your dress.” He rumbles. “Now, please.”

Feeling nearly hypnotized with want you quickly pull the garment over your head and toss it aside.

“That too,” his eyes flick to your bra, watching intently as you unclasp and discard that as well, your breath going shallow when you see the hunger in his expression deepen as he takes you in, standing naked before him. For him.

“Come here.” That irresistible command again, expectant eyes fixed on yours as he waits, unmoving.

As soon as you take a tentative step forward he leans back, licking his lips again as you slowly lift one leg and then the other until your knees are positioned on either side of his head. Bracing yourself on the back of the couch his hands slide up around your ankles, gooseflesh prickling beneath his fingers as they trail up your calves to the crooks of your knees.

Your skin heats up when you look down at him positioned between your spread thighs, but you only have a moment to dwell in any self-consciousness when Klaue tilts his mouth up and recaptures your still fluttering clit between his lips as his eyelids slip closed, an expression of contented bliss deepening the crease between his brows as though he were savoring something exquisite.

“Fuck.” You whimper at the sensation of his lips around your oversensitive bundle of nerves, yet a soft heat is quickly building again.

But then he leaves your clit, and you sigh at the sensation of his questing tongue sliding down through your folds to find your entrance. Spread open above him as you are, he easily slips the tip of his tongue into you, and you shiver when you feel his groan that vibrates through you as your release floods his tongue.

With fingers digging into your flesh he adjusts the angle of your hips so that he can slide deeper, moaning open mouthed against you as his nose presses and slides though your folds with every greedy plunge of his tongue, and you shiver when it nudges against your clit as he drinks you in, his panting breath both warm and cool against your aching nerves.

Your thoughts are already a blur when his slips out of you and uses his grip to slide your cunt along his tongue, licking a broad stripe from your hole up to your clit and back down again, and you can only whimper and sigh as he rocks you against his mouth.

With your arms starting to shake you lean further into the back of the couch, and when this changes the angle of your hips Klaue quickly takes advantage, a hand reaching back around your thigh until you feel two fingers slide into you, and while you welcome the breach it also reminds you how badly you still want his cock.

Although you also realize that was likely part of his intention, since you both know that you still have to wait.

You don’t dwell on this thought for long, however, because this angle allows him to hook his fingers, and while keeping them buried deep inside of you he starts dragging firmly against the spot that steals your breath.

Klaue grunts when your inner walls clench and your thighs tighten against his face, waves of white-hot pleasure building in your core, and you can feel how much you’re dripping down your thighs and his face, skin sliding against the rough scruff of his beard that you’re dimly aware must also be soaked.

Pulling his mouth off of you with a wet sound he stares up at you for a moment and he’s a fucking image beneath you, panting to catch his breath, looking half-drunk with eyes as glossy as his lips and chin where they’re coated in your slick.

“Taste so fucking good, darling,” he praises, voice rough with honeyed lust.

The slick squelch of his fingers is obscenely loud as he continues the curling strokes and you can only mewl helplessly, the clenching pressure spreading through you until your vision greys at the edges as you approach the brink again.

One of your hands drops to his hair, sliding your fingers into his curls and gripping tight as you lower your hips until your cunt finds his mouth again.

“Need you here.”

You’re startled by the sharp demand that bleeds through the desperation in your voice, but are with a hum of appreciation as Klaue’s mouth falls open without hesitation, his eager tongue pressing flat as you grind against it and your hips fall into their own instinctive rhythm.

His other arm tightens around your thigh, seeming to anticipate it just as your muscles string tight and the arch of your back has you unintentionally pulling away. You sob as your orgasm swells up, all your senses but touch seeming to go dim so that even though you don’t hear it the deep vibration of his growl flows out from the point where his rough and greedy tongue is pulling you apart thread by thread.

“Oh my god, please, please, I’m gonna come, please make me come-”

His name is etched on the cry that releases from your throat as you fall over the edge again, writhing and flexing against the grip that holds you firmly against his mouth as wave after wave sweeps through your body. Keeping his fingers buried, your release soaks his hand and wrist as thick fingers continue to pump into you, until with a stuttered cry it finally becomes too much and you have to pull away.

You revel in the heat of his breath on your thighs as you catch yours. Only when you start to slump does he eventually slide his fingers out of you, and it doesn’t take much to encourage you to tip to one side where you collapse on the couch a sweaty, panting mess.

While you recover Klaue slowly sits up, taking a moment to roll his neck before pulling himself to standing. Looking entirely self-satisfied and not bothering with the buttons he pulls his shirt over his head, using it to somewhat clean his face and hand before tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of your dress.

“You were so good for me, taking what you needed.” The pleased lilt in his voice along with the sight of him bare-chested and looming over you makes you shudder. “What do you think that means now?”

“That...that I get to come on your cock?” You ask, still breathless, not bothering to hide the hopefulness in your words as your eyes flick down to where you can clearly see the thick ridge of his erection straining against his half-zipped pants..

"Smart girl."

You bite your lip and flush, even now your cunt fluttering at his praise, wonton need quickly blooming again at just the thought of him filling you.

“On your hands and knees for me then, darling.” Klaue’s voice goes deep, down to that place in the bedrock that tells you he won’t be holding back much longer. "I’m going to fuck you hard, and so fucking deep until all you can do is beg to come for me again.”

“Fuck.” You can’t help your pathetic whimper. “How do you- god it drives me fucking crazy when you talk like that."

“I know it does. And how can I help it when you make sounds like that for me.”

Feeling like you’re glowing, anticipation builds high in your chest as you shift so that you're kneeling long-ways on the cushions. The feral curl of his lips makes you both cower and clench as he drops down a knee to the couch, the other booted foot staying planted on the floor as he positions himself behind you, the muscles of his chest and arms flexing as he roughly works his pants down.

You gasp as he suddenly half-lifts half-pulls you back towards him, and when you feel the brush of his cock hot and achingly hard against the back of your thighs you Instinctively arch your back, tilting your hips to unabashedly open yourself up for him. Knowing he can see the slick shine of what he’s already done to you coating your sex and the insides of your thighs.

“Ohh, and you think I’m filthy. Look at this pretty mess of a cunt, just begging to be filled.” Klaue purrs, gripping his length in one hand and sliding the head through your folds. “You want me to come in it, don’t you? Make even more of a mess.”

“God yes, I want you to come so fucking deep. Need to feel it again.” You whine as his delicious girth starts to press into you, one hand firm on your hip, the other sliding up to your shoulder.

“Oh, you need it, do you?” He teases, his words the rough slide of stone against stone. "Is that what you thought about, klein mot?"

“Yes. Every fucking day.” You turn to look back at him, your eyes imploring. “Please, Ulysses.”

His name becomes a desperate keen, the ache of relief flooding through you as he finally starts to press into you again.

“Fuck, that sound is even better,” he grits as your muscles give in, stretching open around him.

Keeping his hips nearly still, Klaue uses his grip on your shoulder to pull you back onto his cock in a slow, relentless plunge, and when you look back over your shoulder you see that his eyes are fixed on where you’re joined, his heated gaze as firm as the grip of his fingers on your hip.

You’re getting impatient, though, and you can’t help it: as you watch the mesmerized expression on his face, chest heaving rough breaths as you take his cock, you wiggle your hips, making a little show of taking him another inch, inhaling a sharp hiss through your teeth when his grip tightens.

“Stay still.” He rasps, clearly picking up on your tease, yet his voice is somehow desperately soft, soothing you even as his fingers dig harshly into your shoulder. “Shh, don’t worry, darling, you're going take all of it.”

You can only whimper and clench hard around him, the tremble of your muscles deepening as you resist your body’s desire to arch and writhe in response to his words and his touch, biting your lower lip so hard that you taste copper.

But somehow you manage to keep still.

Once Klaue senses your acquiescence he rewards you with a rhythmic, rolling motion of his hips that slides him deeper, deeper, until you feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against your heated skin, and with a final, less controlled thrust his hips finally comes flush against your ass.

For a moment he pauses, breathing heavily but otherwise not moving, simply keeping himself buried in you and you revel in the feeling of being stretched and filled with him, agonizingly aware of every twitch of his cock against your walls.

An unbearable lust fills you, and you’re not sure how much longer you can stand it when the hand on your shoulder slides along your waist and over the soft swell of your hip, and then he's spreading you open to get a better view of where he’s buried, where you yield more easily to him now.

Keeping you like this he pulls most of the way out of you before slowly sliding back in, and you know that he can feel fresh waves of arousal soaking him, can see it slicking his length as he moves. And even when he begins to thrust more quickly he also seems to be intentionally avoiding setting a rhythm, his movements stay just off-kilter enough to hold you back from the edge, first sliding into you in slow, deep strokes, making sure you feel all of him, then shifting to shallower thrusts, pulling back until just the head of his cock is teasing your hole.

“Oh my god, more-” You nearly sob, no care whatsoever to hide your desperation.

“Patience, my darling, you’ll get it.” Klaue’s voice is shot through with a distracted awe, his fingers tightening in response when you try to move against him again. “You’ll be begging soon enough.”

You’ve been focusing on keeping yourself upright but your wrists are getting stiff and your arms are starting to shake, so when he suddenly drives deep again your arms go out from under you and with the unexpected shift he slips forward, rutting even deeper and you both moan in surprise.

Catching himself he braces his hands on either side of your body before pulling back and thrusting again. Suddenly being buried in you seems to have severed the last of his control and he sets a steady pace now, the snap of his hips wet and loud every time he bottoms out as a heady pressure quickly blooms deep and incandescent.

Aching to brush your fingers against your clit you move to reach down between your legs, but he must notice you shifting, your hands scrabbling lower as your muscles start to tighten around him.

“Keep your hands where they are. You’re going to come like this, yeah?” Your hand freezes at his growled words.

“Going to have to fuck me harder, then.”

You can’t help the taunt even though you’re barely able to get the stuttered words out through how hard he’s already fucking you, how close you are to coming entirely apart.

Suddenly you feel him shift and a hand is pressing down between your shoulders, the other leaning into the back of your hip, and then what seems like the full weight of him is braced against you and you lose all control of your body as he finally starts to fuck you, hard. Your knees slide back as he pushes you down into the cushions, and you can barely breathe as he drives into you, your eyes squeezing shut so hard tears escape between your lashes and dampen the rough fabric beneath your cheek.

His brutal rhythm has your thoughts lost, and you’re half aware that you're proving him right because now you're begging, a barely coherent string of pleasepleaseplease driven from your lips with every jolt against your body.

Pinned beneath the relentless weight of him you’re unable to do anything but succumb, overwhelmed by the breathless thrill of realization that all you have to do is let him take you, let him take care of you, and he does - each stroke of his cock assuaging every ache of frustration of the last twelve days, soothing every memory of your own fingers failing to satisfy you while you waited.

“Come for me, mot, just like that, god-”

The heat of your climax focuses to a point and breaks open deep inside of you as everything goes hazy and bright at once. Every muscle in your body strung tight as he hits the deepest part of you and you’re dimly aware of your cries as you come harder than you thought you could, Klaue’s thrusts not letting up as he continues to fuck you until you you can only mumble curses in gasps and sobs.

"So fucking good for me," Klaue pants, the hard, steady rhythm going rough and desperate as the control behind his thrusts wavers. “Going to make you take all of it.”

On the next thrust he stills suddenly, fully buried in you until with a choked groan and another jerk of his hips you feel the hard throb as he comes, the roll of his hips causing your back to arch as he continues to press as deep as he can, and you moan in relief when you feel his spend filling you with every pulse of his cock, the last tight waves of your own orgasm drawing every last drop.

Finally he collapses, draping himself over your back, sweat slicking your bodies as his lips trail wet kisses along the back of your neck and eliciting a whimpered cry then his teeth find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, your pussy twitching as his teeth nip and worry at the spot before sliding his tongue, warm and soothing over the reddened flesh.

Shifting his hips Klaue pulls back out just an inch or two, hissing through his teeth from the overstimulation but then moaning louder than you do when he slides back in and you feel his cum and yours leaking out, feel the sticky slide of it where he’s pressed against you, the sensation tangling exquisitely with his rough whisper against your ear.

“Perfect fucking mess.”

Sitting up in bed with a book propped open on your bent knees you’re attempting to read, but the lines of text keep going blurry as a familiar exhaustion starts to overtake you.

Your thoughts instead slip back to standing in the shower with him, water rinsing the soap from your bodies, exchanging glances and brushes of wet skin as you move around each other in the small space.

Standing under the hot spray you could see that even though he had in fact washed with your regular soap there was still considerable smudging on his hands and arms.

“This stuff is rather strong. I don’t want to subject you to that.” Klaue grins, holding up the bottle he'd brought with him which says something about charcoal, an aggressively orange scent filling the humid space as soon as he twists it open.

“Oof, yeah ok,” you laugh and begrudgingly step out of the shower, catching him watching you out of the corner of your eye as you grab a towel and slide the door shut.

You’d been surprised when he told you he would meet you back here after picking up the soap, but you’d tried to keep from seeming outwardly pleased. At first you assumed it was because he just needed to use the shower and your bunk happened to be closer, but when you open the door you see that he’d also brought a change of clothes, so he had gone back to his room anyway.

Still, there must be some other reason. The likelihood of more sex seems the most obvious, you suppose, not that that’s a bad thing. After all you’d certainly been hoping to take advantage of however long he’ll be here this time, and you try to focus on that thought instead, rather than worrying about the why.

So now you sit on your bed and wait in a fresh t-shirt and underwear, attempting to read but more accurately re-reading the same couple of sentences as you quickly lose the battle against your fluttering eyelids, drifting as you hear the water shut off…

…your head snaps up when Klaue emerges from the bathroom, raising his arms in a small ‘ta-da’ gesture.

You can’t help but grin as you take him in, all damp skin and ink and untamed curls falling across his forehead, but your tongue flicks out to wet your lips when your eyes wander to the towel that’s tucked around his waist, and isn’t currently leaving very much to the imagination.

He smirks when he sees where your eyes are directed and you fail to bite back a smile as he makes his way over to sit on the edge of your bed, but as he comes level with you he tilts his head, the crease between his brows deepening.

“You look tired, Mot.”

“Nooo, I’m fine..” you protest, although it doesn’t sound convincing even to your own ears, and when his hand reaches up to your face you can’t help but press your cheek into his warm palm, humming as a sliver of bliss slides through your chest, and the last thing you’re aware of is the book suddenly vanishing from your grasp.

* * *

You feel fuzzy and disoriented.

You’re pretty sure someone just spoke but you couldn’t guess what they’d said.

"I have to go soon, darling." Klaue repeats, strong fingers slowly massaging your shoulder.

You hear him this time but you still feel like you're a bit sideways, partly because that means that he’s still here, but also because you seem to have tucked yourself against his side, both hands curled beneath your chin and a leg slung across his thigh.

"How-” The first word catches and you clear your throat. “How long was I asleep?" You mumble, one hand rubbing your bleary eyes.

"About an hour."

“What??” You squeak, raising your head suddenly. “That can’t be right, I feel like..I feel like I’ve been asleep for a day.”

“I’m not surprised, you practically fell asleep right in my hands," he chuckles.

Gradually you start to accept that he must be right when you notice he seems to have been reading the book that you'd been failing to read before you apparently passed out, and that he’s also still just wearing the same towel as earlier.

You suppose you could just get your phone to check for certain, but it’s still in your bag and that would mean leaving the firm warmth of his chest, and you can't seem to drag your eyes away from the broad swath of skin right in front of your eyes, or the soft curl of hair that trails across it and down his abdomen. Down beneath the fabric that’s still, unfortunately, tucked at his waist.

Laying your head back down you give yourself a moment to get your bearings, trying to solidify in your mind both that it's actually still today, and that Klaue is once again in your bed.

“Something the matter?” He asks, perhaps noticing your stillness.

“No, no I’m fine. I just.." Maybe it's because you're still only half awake and your filter isn't all the way in place tet but decide to just be honest. "I guess I’m surprised you’re still here. Once you showered I figured you would have gone on your way, especially after I passed out on you.” You smile sheepishly.

“Well, I didn’t want to just leave if I didn’t have to,” you feel him shrug. ”Though, I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to wake you," he teases.

“That, uh, happened last time, too.” You huff a laugh. “I just crashed as soon as you left.”

Thoughts of exactly what had exhausted you so thoroughly float to the front of your mind, and when your hips twitch of their own accord you’re suddenly and acutely aware that your clothed mound is pressed against his leg, just below where the towel ends.

Your breathing shallows, and though he doesn’t say anything you feel the broad muscle of his thigh flex as it presses against you and you reflexively arch into him as your leg tightens around his.

You chance a look up at him from beneath your eyelashes, bashful at your body's swift reaction until you see the knowing look in his eyes, smug when you moan softly and rock your hips in response to another firm press of his thigh.

Keeping your eyes on his you slide your hand slowly towards the towel, your heart rate speeding up when you see a dark shadow flit across the blue as your fingers play along the edge of the soft fabric.

"You have to go?" You sigh, pleased when you feel the muscles of his stomach tense beneath your fingers.

If he does then he’s going to have to tell you to stop - soon - the wet ache quickly spreading between your legs as you continue to slowly grind against his thigh, but then his hand is moving down your back and over the swell of your ass.

“So needy again already. I haven’t made you come enough tonight, is that it? Poor thing." Klaue tsks, his hand slipping beneath the edge of your underwear, and tugging down.

Taking that as his answer you don't waste another second, unhooking yourself you push the garment down and off of your legs as he finally untucks that damn towel, and you’ve barely turned back toward him when he grips your legs and lifts you until you’re straddling him before quickly divesting you of your t-shirt as well.

You start to press up off of your knees, expecting to feel his cock against your entrance, but instead his hands keep you pressed firmly down against him.

“I didn’t say stop.” His low words and stiffening cock both slide between your legs.

His hands move to cup your breasts as you start to move your hips, dragging your entrance along the velvety heat of his cock until the length of him is becoming slick with your arousal, and for several moments he watches appreciatively where he’s sliding through your folds, your hips bucking suddenly when his thumbs brush over the sensitive peaks of your nipples.

“God, I need you.” The rhythm of your hips grows quicker now. “Need you inside me.”

"Use me then, darling. Make yourself come and I'll fuck you again.”

You whimper as he rolls your nipples between thumb and forefinger, your hips tilting to find more of the slick friction against his now fully hard shaft, losing yourself as both sensations collide and collect somewhere at the base of your spine, your lips parting in a plaintive moan as you chase the crest of your orgasm.

“Look at me.” Klaue rasps.

You hear is words but you’re fading into the inevitable shimmer of pleasure as your hips find a tight rhythm, your senses tuned to focused points, fixed on the rough but soothing brush of chest hair beneath your palms, on every ridge and vein of his cock as it slides against your clit.

So you gasp when your chin is suddenly trapped in the viselike grip of his fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes as his voice drops low.

“I didn’t get to see your face before. So this time I need you to look at me when you come.”

Your focus snaps back to him and you’re startled by the look of reverence on his face, panting open mouthed as you rut against him, the hot blue flame of his eyes fixed on you as your climax overwhelms you and you surrender to the curl of his lips around your name.

Lost in the pulsing waves you feel urgent hands lift your writhing hips and position you over his cock, the trembling muscles of your thighs unable to hold you up at all now so that you can’t help but sink down onto him at the same time that he thrusts up, the stretch of him easier now but the ache deeper as he pushes inside of your still clenching walls.

Then he plants his feet and bends his knees, the sudden shift knocking you forward as he starts to fuck up into you, no waiting now, no teasing. An arm wraps tight around your waist as his other reaches up to slide a hand into your hair, fingers tightening until the delicious sting is singing through your nerves.

“Love the way your tight cunt squeezes my cock.” The rough warmth of his words finds its way through the still roiling of pleasure. “So good at taking my cum.”

Tears prick at your eyes as your bliss-dazed body relents to the deep, driving rhythm, and you’re barely able to brace yourself to meet his thrusts.

“Would you like to be good for me again?” Klaue’s pants roughly.

“Yesss.” you whine, overwhelmed at how even though he’s beneath you, somehow you still feel pinned in place.

“Try that again, darling.”

“Please,” you sob, “fill my pussy. I wanna be so fucking good for you, please-”

Releasing your hair his hand moves to grip the base of your neck instead, holding you firmly in place as you look down into his face, his eyes nearly black with lust, full lips parted as he pants and you can’t help but taste them, your mouth roughly finding his in a messy swirl of tongues and teeth that’s as much a kiss as a desperate attempt to find the breath that he seems to have stolen from you.

Both of his thick arms wrap around your waist now and you simply try to hold on as he pounds into you, filling you again and again, and when you drop your face to his neck his skin is scorching hot below the spot where his scruff rubs against your cheek.

You ache to feel him let go again, and as his thrusts become sharper and more desperate your words come out in a stuttered plea against this neck

“Come for me. Please, Ulysses.”

Klaue’s breathing goes ragged, and then his entire body tenses until with a shudder and a guttural moan you feel the warmth of his cum spreading inside you again, bliss swirling through you as you helplessly grind your hips to keep him buried as deep as possible.

The whisper of your name from his lips has you grateful that his arms are still holding you tight against him so that you can’t look into his eyes now, uncertain of what you might see there.

Still reeling from the look on his face as he held your chin in his hand and watched you unravel above him.

Still processing the word he'd spoken earlier, perhaps not even realizing it.

“Patience, my darling..”

My darling.

His.

For now you can only hope that he wants to keep touching you, because now that he has, you realize that he seems to have found some disparate elements of you that you didn’t know were separate until he was piecing them together with every brush of his lips and his hands and his words against your skin until you can’t help but feel anything but whole.

A/N: Obligatory Frodo_it's-over-it's-done dot gif!

I hope that you enjoyed this foray back into the the smutty adventures of Klaue and reader, there is still lots to come for them! I have no timeline for when, of course, but everything for part two is drafted, and I'm looking forward it. 😊

#salvation is a deep dark well fic #bringin' home the rain part two #ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x f reader #ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaue x you #ulysses klaue smut #reader insert #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction

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