Text
Waste a Moment Masterlist
Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/reader)
Most recent update : 20/11/2024
Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum. Angst.
The title was taken from a Kings of Leon song of the same name, and the chapter titles are taken from bits of lyrics from Waste a Moment, Find Me, and Reverend.
A new chapter will be posted every two days.
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Part 1 — “Static on Her Brain”
Part 2 — “No Kin”
Part 3 — “The Wandering Man”
Part 4 — “Porcelain Smile”
Part 5 — “From Behind Your Eyes”
Part 6 — “Live Wire”
Part 7 — “How did You Find Me?”
Part 8 — “Cursed by the Crown”
Part 9 — “Ticking Time Bomb”
Part 10 — “Give me Something I Want”
Part 11 — “Give me Something I Need”
Part 12 — “Out in the Dark”
Part 13 — “Beast to the Wild”
Part 14 — “Never Ask to be Forgiven”
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)
BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER
summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action
wc: 4.7k
a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)
Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.
And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.
Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.
On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.
Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.
“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”
He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.
One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.
You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.
With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”
The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.
“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.
But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.
Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”
Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.
On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.
Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.
Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”
Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”
After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.
The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.
Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.
But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.
Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.
Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.
How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.
Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.
During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.
Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.
You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”
He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.
His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”
When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.
“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”
“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”
He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.
He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”
You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”
“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”
He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.
“Let me talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”
“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.
And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.
You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”
Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”
My darling.
For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.
The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.
You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”
Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.
There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.
You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.
“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”
He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.
“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”
Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.
“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”
“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”
In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.
You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.
He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.
Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.
They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.
During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.
And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.
Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.
He misses you. So damn much.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.
“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”
“I’m sorry I left you with them.”
You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.
He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”
The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.
He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.
A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.
The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.
You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.
“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.
Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.
Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”
“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”
You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.
Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.
You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.
But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.
“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.
Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.
“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”
He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”
You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”
“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”
Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.
“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”
He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.
He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.
When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”
You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.
“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”
Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.
Those were your trigger words.
“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.
Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.
Blue.
You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.
At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.
“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”
He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”
You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”
Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.
“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”
And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.
You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”
Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.
He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.
Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.
“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.
Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.
He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”
Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.
“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.
There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.
You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.
But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.
He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.
The blond raises his arms up in surrender.
“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.
“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.
Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”
You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.
Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.
A new beginning awaits.
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Situation Room
Masterlist
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?
Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: Tangerine has always chosen her over you, until he doesn't anymore.
Genre: angst and fluff
Warnings: Lemon, Tangerine, and reader are in their early twenties, toxic relationship, swearing, violence, men (the gross kind), body/weight insecurities, cheating, intoxication
~ based on a conversation i had with my wife @little-miss-dilf-lover and lightly inspired by Dial Drunk by Noah Kahn ~
TANGERINE MASTERLIST
It was midnight when you heard the sharp knocks on your apartment door. You knew your roommate was already asleep so you quickly pad out of your bedroom and through the living room, rubbing your sleepy eyes as you open the door a sliver and peer out into the corridor. You see Lemon first, a sympathetic look painted across his features as he holds up an extremely drunk Tangerine.
Tangerine's face is covered in bruises, the skin around his eye is slowly turning purple and you see the blood on his knuckles as he flexes his hands. Your eyes widen and you hurry out into the hall, your bare feet against the harsh carpet as you quietly shut the door behind you. "What happened?" you whisper, worried for him. Tangerine just grunts, his eyes glossy.
He's been crying.
Lemon groans and holds his brother higher, looking at you knowingly. As if he knows the news will somehow break your heart. You stare at him, as if to say 'cut the bullshit' because you want to see if it has something to do with Macey—which it probably does.
Tangerine and Macey have been dating on and off for years. Since high school she's had him wrapped around her pinky, his head a lust-filled mess that very quickly turned into full-blown puppy-love. She'd always be the one to dump him and he'd always come back because he loved her so much. It was an endless cycle that lasted until now, your junior year of university.
You hate her. You have never hated anyone as much as you hate Macey Addams.
You hate her silky ginger hair, the way her dark eyes contrast Tangerine's blue ones so well, and that fake smile she reserves for you when you see her. You hate how she laughs, how she talks, and how she looks in those skin-tight dresses Tangerine loves so much.
You hate her.
You hate how you're not her.
"Ran into some 'friends' from high school at the bar," Lemon says, emphasizing the word friends with a grunt, "Said some things this dick didn't like so he had to start a fucking bar fight, like some fucking criminal. All because of some bird who doesn't want nothin' to do with you anymore, mate," Lemon scolds Tangerine, who slouches against the wall and slides down, holding his head in his arms.
"Someone called the coppers and I had to bail him out."
Your eyes widen and you run a hand in your messy hair, kneeling in front of Tangerine as you look up at Lemon. "Really?"
Lemon nods and removes his hand from Tangerine's shoulder. He walks away further down the hall, shaking his head as he groans. Lemon's mumbling curses under his breath and so is Tangerine, only his sound sadder than his brother.
"Hey," you whisper, "Tan?"
His arms attach themselves to your waist, holding you close as he sobs. You sigh, resting your hand on his head as you let him hold you. Sometimes you'd find yourself being bitter, because why does he love Macey so much when you've always been here for him?
You'd gift him the moon if you could, but instead, you're stuck being just this—his best friend.
Not that you're complaining.
"Y/n?" he asks a while later as you both sit on the floor of your room, having managed to sneak him quietly through the living room. You're nursing frozen peas to his knuckles as he leans his head against your bed. Knowing Tangerine was in good hands, Lemon had gone home.
You hum, looking at him.
"If I could choose who I was in love with," he begins, his intoxication still obvious only he's slowly sobering up. He blinks slowly, finding his words, "I'd choose you."
You look into his blue eyes you'd normally want to drown yourself in and your heart shatters. He means well, you know this. Plus, how is he supposed to know you're actually madly in love with him when you've never told him?
However, the words hurt like hell knowing his love for Macey is almost otherworldly. He speaks of it like a chemical reaction he has no control over and you're simply the choice. Something mundane and easier.
You turn your head and quickly wipe a tear from your cheek so he doesn't see. You look at him again and strain a smile.
"I'd choose you too, Tan."
* * *
Four months later, although sometimes you would find him lost in thoughts of her, she was mostly a distant memory and your feelings for Tangerine have been successfully repressed.
The pub is extra crowded this evening and you slither your way through people to where your date is. His name is Adrien, which is a respectable name. He's handsome enough if not a little boring. You order your drinks and then the conversation turns sour.
"I mean, females need to watch their crabs, y'know. You should really order a salad," Adrien pushes the menu across the table, his voice calm like he'd just called the sky blue. You frown, cheeks warm as you cross an arm over your stomach, feeling insecure in your dress.
"Females?" you repeat in disbelief that a man like this exists.
He doesn't answer. The waiter comes with the wine and you gulp yours down in one go.
In hindsight you should have left the moment Adrien opened his mouth, but something inside you embarrassingly craved any form of affection up until he tried to kiss you outside the pub, and when you pushed him away for the second time, he called you an ugly bitch and stormed off.
Your lip wobbles as you stare at the lamppost, your hand clutching your purse strap so hard it hurts. You sniffle and fumble with your phone, texting the one person you know won't hesitate to come pick you up. You really don't want to walk home.
Minutes later, his car screeches in front of the pub and he opens the door from the driver's side, looking at you with a concerned expression as you climb in, buckling yourself. "Thanks," you mutter.
"S'no problem, poppet," Tangerine says, sending you a sideways look as he starts the car again, shifting the gear as he drives off. You sink into the expensive leather seats and look out the window. You sniffle again, still holding an arm over your stomach.
You keep hearing Tangerine's ringtone. Someone's bombarding him with texts. You turn, catching a glimpse of the contact's name as she calls him up again. The screen flashes her name. Mae. Macey. Tangerine turns his phone over in the center console, turning off the sound as he focuses on the road.
You look at him, your frown momentarily distracting you from how watery your eyes have become from the evening events. "Don't you want to answer?" you whisper. You know Tangerine would usually jump at an opportunity for her attention. This time, his jaw clenches and he shakes his head.
"Rude to answer the phone when you're with someone, innit?" he says, looking at you briefly. "Are ya okay, love?" he asks, his tone softer now.
You're a little surprised he's putting you over Macey but you relish in it.
You shrug. "Hm, bad date," you say.
Tangerine's nose scrunches and his hands tighten on the wheel. "Did something happen?"
"If you count him being a jerk who thought it was normal to comment on my food choice on the first date, then yeah." You roll your eyes and look out the window again, blinking rapidly not to cry. You cross your other arm across your stomach as you instinctively suck in.
Tangerine catches the movement and his frustration boils. "You look beautiful," he says and places his hand on your knee. "Don't," he whispers, waiting for you to relax your poor stomach. You do it with a sigh and you're silent the rest of the car ride.
Once you're back home, Tangerine agrees to stay the night to keep you company after such a horrible experience. It really isn't smart, considering your heart latches on to him immediately, and it is only sent plummeting when just before your eyes flutter shut to sleep, you hear Tangerine's muffled voice in your bathroom, her name on his tongue.
Of course, he'd called her back.
* * *
Six months later Lemon is throwing a housewarming party for him and his fiancée, Liv. You'd decide to bring your boyfriend of three months. Unbeknownst to you, Tangerine also had invited a plus one neither you nor Lemon approved of.
"Y/n/n!" her shrill voice calls over the music as you turn, your champagne almost falling from your hand as you see her. Her fiery red hair is cut shorter but it's as pretty as ever as she drops Tangerine's arm and skips over, pulling you into a hug. "I've missed you." Macey's tone is sweet, almost as if you'd been best friends for years.
You see Tangerine handing Lemon his and Macey's coat, whispering something to his brother who sends him a dirty look. Macey continues to hug you and then introduces herself to your boyfriend Charlie. You don't miss how Charlie's gaze flickers to her breasts in her navy skin-tight dress. Macey smiles sweetly at him.
You feel sick.
You excuse yourself and find Tangerine in the kitchen as he looks for a drink. "Macey? Really? You're a fucking puppy wrapped around her finger," you spit, slightly drunk from the champagne and frustrated from the situation.
Tangerine rolls his eyes. "She's changed. We're good now."
"You sound so stupid," you accuse, walking over and shoving his shoulder in an attempt to knock some sense into him. He grunts and steadies you with his hands as he frowns.
"You're sloshed, Y/n."
You shake your head and push his hand away, eyes lidded. "You fucking tell your girl to keep her dirty mitts away from my boyfriend then!" Tangerine's anger rises as he hates what you're implying just as much as you do.
"She's not like that," he argues and you scoff, turning around to storm off into the living room again.
"Not anymore," Tangerine calls but you ignore him.
An hour or two later, after some rounds of charades and sneaking glances you wish you hadn't seen between Charlie and Macey, you're even drunker. Lemon is beginning to worry as Liv insists you have more water. You don't know what you hate more, that your current boyfriend keeps looking at another woman, or how said woman keeps playing with Tangerine's tie as she sits curled up in his lap.
You think it's all in your drunken mind when you stumble into the backyard and see Charlie with his hand under Macey's dress, her leg wrapped around his hip as they kiss passionately. They're probably fueled by liquor and lust but it doesn't matter, the dam breaks and you turn around, stumbling inside, alerting them to your presence. You're crying as you slam your head into someone's hard chest.
"Woah. Bloody hell," Tangerine frowns and looks at you. He's probably the only sober person here. He's been fully sober for more than half a year now. His hand comes up to your cheek immediately as he pads at your tears. "Love, what happened?"
You don't answer him, only sobbing more as you push by him and rush into the upstairs bathroom. Charlie stumbles inside, buttoning up his shirt and he makes uncomfortable eye contact with Tangerine. He stops cold, clears his throat, and nods his head at him before he rushes up the stairs after you.
Tangerine's stomach drops. He takes a calming breath and puts his hands in his pockets as he walks outside and sees Macey adjusting her dress and wiping the sides of her mouth, where her mauve lipstick had smudged.
She turns to him, her voice still as she says calmly, "I can explain, T." She doesn't sound remorseful in any way, a clear indication that he's been letting her walk all over him.
He takes another breath and walks to her, his demeanor just as calm and Macey's expression falters. Usually, this would rile him up and she loved the adrenaline she received from calming him down and taming him. This? This was new.
"It's one thing to hurt me," Tangerine drawls, staring at her with a cold gaze. "It's another to hurt her."
Macey frowns. "Who? Y/n? Who cares—"
"I care," he interrupts and takes Macey's chin in his hand, not tightening enough to hurt her, just to scare her. "You went too far this time and I should have never given you another chance. This? Us? We should have ended years ago."
He releases her and Macey's eyes widen. "Tangerine,"
"Get out." He says sternly and turns around, adding in a harsh tone, "And lose my fuckin' number."
Tangerine hears Charlie banging on the bathroom door the moment he enters the house again and his fists clench. He strides upstairs and pulls on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling him jump as he looks at Tangerine. "Ya think ya haven't done enough?"
Charlie opens his mouth to protest but hearing Tangerine, you open the door just a little and peek outside, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a mess of snot under your nose. Tangerine's gaze softens when you sniffle.
"Tan," you whisper.
Charlie puts his hand on the door and attempts to pry it open. "Y/n!" He sounds urgent but Tangerine shoves him away, sending him a glare as he lets himself into the small bathroom and locks the door behind him again.
You're inconsolable now as you cry violently. As angry as you are with Tangerine for bringing her, you need him now. You grasp his shirt and rest your forehead on his chest, shaking. Tangerine is as mad at himself as you are, maybe even more so. He wraps his arms around you and inhales the scent of your shampoo as he kisses your head repeatedly.
"Darlin'," he whispers, his voice hoarse, "I'm so sorry. I'm so fuckin' sorry."
He hears another annoying sharp knock from Charlie again and instantly bangs his heel against the door, startling you a little but he holds you tighter and barks.
"Piss the fuck off, twat."
The knocking ends.
* * *
An hour later, Tangerine has you sitting on Lemon and Liv's kitchen counter as they clean up from the party. He hands you some water as he rolls up his sleeves. One of his hands finds your thigh and he rubs it soothingly. You look up at him from behind your glass, unable to resist the question.
"Is there something wrong with me?"
Tangerine's forehead pinches and pulls his hand away so he can cup your cheeks instead. He stands in between your legs, his eyes level with yours as they search your features. "Pardon? Say that again."
"What does she have that I don't? Is she prettier than me? Does she have a better body? I- I want to be wanted like her," you sniffle, your words slurred as you're still very intoxicated no matter how much water you've drank. Your cheeks are damp from your tears. "Why does she take every man I like? Why did she take you from me when I loved you damn so much?"
Tangerine's heart leaps at your words. "Loved me?" he repeats, his thumb caressing your cheek.
You nod and look into his eyes. "Love," you admit, "For years—and it never stops either and I tried. I tried, Tan."
You sound so sad.
His hand shakes on your cheek and for a moment you think he's leaning in to kiss you as your eyes flutter, but instead, he crushes you into a hug. You relax in his arms, shutting your eyes fully as you whimper and the sound hits him hard.
He'd been such an idiot.
"I would kiss ya," he whispers, sounding sincere, "I'd kiss ya if ya weren't so damn drunk."
You're speechless.
Liv walks in, holding an armful of paper towels with Lemon on her heels. She smiles when Tangerine shifts away from you, clearing his throat, and you try to look busy, your head spinning from Tangerine's previous words. Lemon raises an eyebrow at his brother and Tangerine communicates with his eyes. Lemon chuckles.
"G'night, lovebirds," he grins as Liv puts away the paper towels and smirks too, slapping Lemon's arm playfully.
Tangerine's cheeks burn crimson all the way up to his ears.
Once they're gone he turns his attention to you again, looking at you fondly. "I've been a real fuckin' prick, haven't I?" he says and pushes some hair behind your ear. "Lookin' at 'er, when what I wanted was right here in front of me this whole damn time."
You blink at him, his words sinking in but you're too drunk to comprehend.
Tangerine kisses your forehead. "I'll make it up to you," he says, his chest filling with warmth. It's a promise. One he keeps because when you wake up in Lemon's guest room, Tangerine walks in shirtless with a breakfast tray full of an assortment of toast, beans, and eggs.
"Monrin' love," he says. He's wearing that familiar smile. A peaceful, happy, smile. The one you haven't seen him wear in a while.
Damn does it look good on him.
tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader
718 notes
·
View notes
Text
honey, i’m home
Description: Tangerine misses his girl after a long job.
Pairing: Tangerine x fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ only!, oral (f!recieving), p in v, somno (implied mutual consent)
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: not proofread bc i didn’t wanna
Tangerine slid his key into the lock, turning it slowly with a click. Then the deadbolt above it, extra careful to make it silent.
He pushed the door open, padding in as softly as he could, not even bothering to shut it until he’d disarmed the alarm system just beyond the entrance. As soon as he heard the tiny beep that indicated the alarm was off, he closed the door, locking it again. He reset the alarm, then turned to toe off his shoes and hang up his jacket.
He glanced around the home, noting that everything had been shut off for the night, save for a salt lamp in the living room. He peeked around the corner of the hallway, seeing nothing but a tiny bit of light peeking out from under the bedroom door. Probably her diffuser, he thought to himself.
He tiptoed down the hallway, breathing a little heavier with each step closer to the door at the end. He put his hand on the knob, gripping it gently as he turned it, opening the door. He was careful to go slowly as to not make a sound since the door could tend to get a bit creaky.
He stepped inside the room as soon as he could fit from behind the door, smiling to himself a little as he saw the diffuser running, filling up the room with the smell of lavender.
He ran a hand through his hair as his eyes drifted to the bed, and the woman in it. He almost groaned seeing her half-covered by the blankets in the nightgown he loved so much. She looked so pretty and peaceful like that, her chest rising and falling slowly with every breath.
He tugged on his tie, loosening it a little before fully pulling it off. He set it on a nearby dresser. Then, he pulled off his vest, leaving it with the tie.
He walked closer to the bed, careful to stay quiet as he pushed up his sleeves and unbuttoned the top four buttons of his shirt. He reached forward as soon as he got close enough, slowly pulling the covers off of her body. His eyes trailed the top of the comforter as it revealed her to him, inch by inch. Her soft, white nightgown draped over her chest and stomach. Her panties on display from where the gown had ridden up. Her plush thighs, and the rest of her pretty legs. All for him.
He let out a breath, palming himself through his trousers, hard just from looking at her. He slowly crawled onto the mattress, carefully pushing her legs apart.
He kept an eye on her face as his hands moved up her legs and got a hold of her baby blue panties, pulling them slowly down her legs, tossing them across the room. He groaned softly, his eyes drawn immediately to her perfect cunt.
“Fuck,” he muttered gently, lowering himself down between her legs.
He started kissing up her thighs, sucking the supple skin into his mouth every few kisses. If he could died between her legs, he was sure he’d die a happy man.
His mouth trailed up further and further until his lips were ghosting over hers, breathing in her scent. She was already a little wet, and he was determined that it was because, even in her sleep, she knew he was nearby. He pressed a soft, open mouth kiss to her cunt, wanting to feel the silky flesh on his lips more than anything.
He swallowed after the kiss, feeling totally wrecked by her already. He reached his hand up, sliding two fingers between her folds before opening her up, licking a long strip from her hole to her clit. He moaned into her, swirling his tongue around the little bud before sucking it into his mouth, his cheeks hollowed out. He focused his tongue on her clit, his fingers sliding to her entrance, teasing around the hole before sliding one in.
He swore he could pass out as he heard her let out a breathy moan, slowly starting to wake up. He smiled against her, curling his finger inside of her, relishing the feeling of her walls, soft and spongy, against his skin. He ground his hips against the bed, needing to get some kind of friction with how painfully hard he felt.
“Tan…?” she mumbled softly, her back arching off the bed a little.
“Hey, m’love. I’m home,” he said, his voice reverberating through her pussy.
She moaned softly, her hand immediately moving to tangle in his hair. He smiled, licking her softly before he slightly lifted his head up.
“Hope you don’t mind, darlin’. Couldn’t help myself with you laying here all pretty. I missed ya,” he said, watching her face.
She shook her head. “Don’t mind. Please don’t stop.”
He smirked. “Glad to oblige ya, love.”
He moved back in, kissing her leaky cunt once again before sitting up on his knees. She watched him with hooded eyes as he started undoing his belt.
“It’s been too long,” he muttered, undoing the button on his trousers, zipping them down.
“Too long,” she nodded, her eyes on his hands as he pushed the material down his thighs.
He didn’t even bother taking it all off, pushing down his briefs next, letting his cock spring free. They rested near his knees as he dragged the head of his cock through her folds, groaning softly.
“M’fuckin’ sensitive. I think my cock might’ve missed you more than I did,” he gritted out, pulling her hips forward.
He could have cum on the spot from the sound she made as he pushed his tip inside of her, soft and needy and fucking desperate. He leaned himself over her body, propping himself up on his forearm as he pressed into her, kissing her temple.
“Love you, darlin’.”
“I love you.”
He smirked at her voice, snapping his hips against hers, his cock buried to the hilt. She moaned, gripping hard onto his arm as he started fucking her into the mattress, no longer worried about being so gentle with her.
“That’s my girl,” he groaned into her ear.
He relished in the feeling of her walls squeezing him, too tired to keep herself relaxed for him. He knew he wouldn’t last long like this, but he didn’t expect to anyways. He hadn’t gotten to properly fuck her in almost a month: he didn’t care if he came right away. He just needed to be inside of her.
“Come on, love,” he grunted, his hand moving between their bodies to rub her clit harshly.
She whimpered, holding onto him like her life depended on it as he brought her to the edge. He moaned into her ear, kissing down her neck sloppily.
“Fuck,” she whined, her body starting to tense up.
Tangerine groaned loudly. “That’s it, baby.”
He practically whimpered as she clenched down around him, cumming hard on his cock. Her walls pulsed, drawing him dangerously close to his own climax. He put it off as long as he could, wanting to fuck her through her release, but he could only do so much.
“Shit, baby,” he grunted, pulling out just in time to make a mess of her stomach, his hips jutting into his hand as he finished. “Fuck.”
He looked down at her body, her pussy soaked and messy, her tummy not much different.
“God, you’re pretty like this,” he said softly, leaning back on his knees to look at her. “Messy girl.”
She whined softly. “I missed you.”
“Missed you more, love,” he smiled softly, brushing his hair away from his face. “Promise I’ll fuck you proper tomorrow morning.”
He leaned down to kiss her lips once, determined that he wouldn’t be taking another job for at least six months.
685 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way.
Epilogue
Genre: SMUT (nsfm)
Warnings: implied fuck boy!Tangerine, bitchy!Tangerine in the beginning, reader is named Peach, unprotected sex, passionate sex, not much foreplay (they're desperate lmao), swearing, insecurities, praise kink, degradation, emotional, Tangerine is all over the place and bad with his feelings!
~ i'm so sorry i feel like this took forever <3 enjoy! @j23r23 ~
TANGERINE MASTERLIST
"He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not," you smile, your nails drumming on the desk as you pick at the petals of the roses in the jar near your computer. "Ah ha, he loves me. Knew you were so full of shit," you hum happily.
"Piss off," Tangerine loudly grunts in your ear and you tilt your head, scrunching your nose. You've told him not to yell like that—you've warned him that the earpiece is sensitive and you'll lose your hearing if he continues like this—but he never listens.
Being the Twins handler for almost four years now you've learned how to deal with their quirks.
Lemon, as ruthless as he is, is too trusting. He's also loyal to a fault and he'd die for Tangerine in seconds; something you've had to account for in your missions so it doesn't happen.
Tangerine on the other hand? Recklessness under the guise of control. He'd burn the entire world down for Lemon without hesitation, his temper as bright as the flames of a wildfire.
Unexplainably however, you were drawn to him the most.
While he pushes your buttons like no one else, you also tend to push him in ways that leave him wanting—no needing—more.
"Tan," you warn again, "don't talk so loudly, they'll hear you!"
"Stop your yapping in my ear then, luv," Tangerine snaps, his comment snarky and you hear a loud humph as it sounds like someone crashes into something.
Tangerine sounds out of breath and you use your mouse to click on the map on your computer. You zoom in and ask, "Where's Lem? You aren't supposed to meet any security for a while—"
"He's busy, darlin'. And your little shortcut turned out to be not so short after all," Tangerine says and you hear a loud grunt. It's obvious he's in the middle of a fight.
Your blood runs cold as you chew on your lip. Your hands quickly dance over the keyboard as you try and find another way for them—an easier way—
"Hey, Peach, will ya stop breathing so damn loudly, it's distracting me," Tangerine's voice interrupts your worry and you hold your breath when you hear a loud thwap and then a grunt—immediately accompanied by cursing and more hoarse shouts.
"Tangerine!" his name spills from your lips as you hear louder blows. "Tan?" you whisper when the line disconnects and a low buzz is heard in your ear. You fumble to discard the earpiece onto the desk in front of you and then you focus on finding Lemon.
If anyone can help Tangerine, it's Lemon.
With a frown, you activate the tracker you'd promised not to slip into Lemon's jacket, and a little red light blinks on your computer screen. He's not far from where Tangerine is. You lean over and connect to the microphone on your computer.
"Lemon?!"
You hear a crack and then the shuffling of clothes against the microphone in the tracker. "Peach?" Lemon grunts, "Ya cheeky lil' bird, I told ya not to track me," he lets out a breathy laugh, and another smack is heard, "Fuck me, these fuckers just don't die easily!"
"Lem? Where's Tan?" you ask, seeing that the tracker Tangerine wears voluntarily on his suit hasn't moved in a while. "Is he okay? I think the earpiece broke."
Something must have happened to his tracker too if it's malfunctioning.
"Yeah, which is why I say I should wear it—but he's bossy and he's your favorite," Lemon says.
"I don't have favorites!" you insist, your cheeks burning.
"Sure, whatever," Lemon chuckles and then adds, "Ah, speaking of the devil—I can see 'im now. Damn, he's beat up ain't he. Bullocks. Y'know your little plan was shit, Peach, security swarmed us almost immediately!"
You pinch your eyes and guilt settles in your stomach. "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"
You hear Tangerine's voice distantly as he grumbles, "Fuckin' arsehole broke my earpiece when he punched me—I lost contact with Peach," he complains and you hear shuffling. Your stomach fills with unwanted butterflies at the sound of his voice and how your codename rolls off his tongue.
"She can hear ya," Lemon says, his smirk evident in his tone, "Say hello, Peach."
"She tracked ya?"
"Yeah, and bugged me too apparently."
"What the fuck, my tracker doesn't do that," Tangerine says and you hear an infliction in his voice.
"Yeah, cauz you always have the earpiece."
"Because she likes me better,"
"That's what I said!!"
"Oi, you wankers, I can still hear you," you interrupt, "Will you just come back to the van now? The mission's a bust," you finish. While they continue to bicker for a moment, Lemon finally shuts down the tracker—by breaking it you assume—idiot—and it isn't until the van door slams open that you hear and see them again.
"Oi, now you're takin' the piss," Tangerine exclaims, glaring at his brother as he runs a hand through his mussed hair. He enters the van and you stand. Your eyes scan over his appearance; his suit is torn and bloodied and he has a gaping cut on his forehead. His ear is also bleeding from when you assume the broken earpiece had shattered.
"Christ," you whisper and walk over to him. Lemon smirks as he walks by the both of you and collapses onto the second chair near your desk. He's less beat up than Tangerine—who'd taken on more men you assume—but you remind yourself to check on him later anyway.
Tangerine senses you come up to him and he tenses when you hold his cheeks in your hands and check his wounds. "Tan, this looks bad," you say.
"Peach, I'm fine," he grumbles and turns his head away. He sounds grumpier than usual.
"Look, I'm sorry��I'm sorry I messed up, I—"
Suddenly, Tangerine explodes. His hand comes up around his ears as he scrunches up his nose. "Will ya just stop talkin' for one fuckin' second?!" he yells and even Lemon, who had been a silent bystander to the conversation, looks up from where he's bandaging his hand.
Your eyes widen and you blink at Tangerine. "W-what?"
He presses his index on his temple and narrows his eyes at you. "I have a fuckin' headache 'cause of you and you talkin' my fuckin' ear off all the damn time! And now I can barely hear because it's ringing so fuckin' hard!" he points to the blood inside his ear.
You flinch at his tone and try to control the tears threatening to spill as he harshly berates you.
"Right," is all you say, "sorry," your voice sounds small and you push by him and out to the front of the van to start the engine.
* * *
When you arrive outside their house—well, your house too since you've been living with them for the past three months—you don't talk to Tangerine. You don't even look at him.
Instead, without a word, you walk up to your room, tears still brimming, and slam the door behind you.
Your stomach hurts and your nails dig into your palms as you run a shower. You desperately want to wash away any memory of what happened tonight.
It isn't uncommon for you and Tangerine to fight—but he's never shouted like that and never in response to your worry.
Once you finish with your shower and walk out of the bathroom, just a towel wrapped around your body, you jump when you see Tangerine standing in the middle of your room.
He'd clearly freshened up too but, unlike yours, his hair is freshly dried. You aren't surprised—you know he hates sleeping with it when it's wet.
He's wearing a casual pair of beige slacks and a white T-shirt. The fabric strains against the muscles in his arms as he crosses them across his chest and you look up, feeling a burn in your cheeks.
Tangerine's ear has been bandaged and his cuts and bruises look kindly tended to. Lemon, you assume, he's always been soft on his brother even when he's acting like a jerk.
Tangerine is staring at you intensely, his blue eyes shining a shade darker than usual.
"Shit, stop being creepy," you grumble, holding your towel tightly around yourself. "Have you come to say you're sorry for acting like a prick or just stare a hole into my head?"
Tangerine's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. He stalks closer to you, pink lips parted and his hands find your hair near your nape. He pulls you in, seemingly unbothered by the squeal you make or how you're unable to move your hands to push him away.
Not that you'd want to push him away anyway.
"The fuck you think you're doing?" you hiss, staring at him, "have you gone mad?"
Tangerine just continues to stare into your soul. "You're so damn annoying," he mutters.
"I'll scream and Lemon will come and beat the shit out of you," you threaten, challenging him. You know Lemon would never do such a thing and you'd be a fool to scream.
"But, fuck me, I like you so damn much," he finishes his sentence, and then his lips find yours. His hand tightens in your hair as he kisses you. There's no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation or remorse, just pure passion as he wraps his arms around you and holds your back as he pulls your chest to his.
You clutch the towel, making sure it feels secure, and kiss him back. You make a small sound behind his lips but you can't deny the heat in the kiss or how badly your stomach tightens just right. The steam coming from your bathroom is taunting as it surrounds you; sticky and warm.
"Tan," you mumble as his hand comes around your jaw and he turns your head to kiss your neck.
"Shut up," he growls, "you talk too damn much." He squeezes his eyes shut and the words fall easily from his lips as they press to your skin.
"God, you don't understand how hard it is for me; hearing your sweet voice in my ear while I'm trying not to get fuckin' stabbed or shot to death! You don't know what you do to me, darlin'. You have no fuckin' clue. It's fuckin' torture," he says as his hand tightens in your hair and you whimper.
"Tan, m-my towel," you tell him, struggling to hold it up as his body presses against yours.
This makes Tangerine snap out of whatever trance he's in for a moment and he looks down at you. His eyes have softened just a little and his tone is sultry when he asks, "Let it fall. I don't care. Do you?" His lips quirk up. "I've dreamt of you naked a thousand times, luv."
Your eyes round at the intensity of his words. You want to tell him to fuck off—that you've never thought of him like this. Never imagined his lips on yours or the way he'd feel inside you. But then you'd be a liar, and you aren't a liar.
Instead, you drop the towel, your eyes still intensely locked onto his. The cold air sends a shiver up your spine and Tangerine's hands find the skin on your back instead of the towel. His eyes haven't left yours and he looks surprised that you'd done it. He hasn't looked down and his cheeks have turned a dusty pink.
"What?" you move your hands up to his cheeks and hold them, "you said you'd dreamt of this. Well?" With as much confidence as you can muster, tilt his head to your naked body. You can feel your hands tremble against his cheeks, all kinds of insecurities and uncertainties bubbling inside you and just as you're going to pull away from sheer embarrassment, Tangerine speaks;
"Fuckin' hell, you look so much better than in my imagination," his hands slide up the curves of your hips and breasts. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how passionate he'd been in the beginning.
You watch as his eyes roam around your body and he runs a hand over his jaw, staring at you with pure admiration. "You belong in a fuckin' museum," he whispers behind his hand.
"Alright, lover boy," you roll your eyes and shift to move away but his hands find your hips and he hoists you up into his arms. You gasp, your arms finding his shoulders and your legs cling to his waist as your wet hair sprinkles water over his face. It's a weird position to be in considering you're naked.
"Tangerine!" you cry as he carries you over to your bed and you squeal when he drops you and hovers over you.
"Let me worship you, darlin'," he whispers as his knee slides in between your legs and he kisses your lips again. He disconnects them and looks at you seriously, "Please," he pleads and your eyes widen.
Tangerine never says please.
You find yourself nodding, too lost in the haze of it all to hear the small voice in your head screaming how stupid this is.
He'll throw you away after. He doesn't care. He'll hurt you. He'll break your heart!
You kiss him again, his lips moving against yours rhythmically. You're so lost in pleasure that when he sits up on his heels to strip his shirt, you whine and grasp at his arms. "Shhh, I'm here, dove," he chuckles, enjoying the power he has over you. When he leans over you to kiss you again, this time your hands find his abs and you can't help but explore them.
"You countin' them, luv?" he chuckles after a moment and his lips find your nipples as he squeezes one of your breasts in his hands. You make an embarrassed sound that quickly turns into a moan when he positions your hips just right so the fabric of his slacks hits your clit.
"I know, I know," Tangerine teases as he senses how needy you're becoming. "Shit, you're just a little slut, aren't ya, luv? Knew you'd wear those dresses to tempt me—didn't ya?"
You nod. You had. You didn't think it worked—he always played it so cool.
"You should know I would wank one out after seeing you—your thighs so visible and," he pauses and uses his hands to spread you open until he sees what he wants, "and that pretty pussy. So fuckin' pretty—
—you let me have a peek sometimes didn't you, naughty girl? Knew you did it on purpose," Tangerine says. He sounds satisfied with himself that he'd found you out and his grin widens when you nod.
"Just for you," you whisper, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Tan," you whine, you're already so wet for him.
"What do you want, hm? Tell me," he smirks and dips his head down to kiss your neck as his hands wander around your skin. He sits back up and removes his slacks and boxers. Your eyes downturn on his cock and you bite your lip. God, is he really this beautiful everywhere? How fucking unfair.
Tangerine's hand comes up to your chin, "Where do you want me?"
You look into his eyes, unsure how to ask him for what you want. Tangerine smiles, his thumb touching your lip. He's gentle, his eyes softer now, "Peach," he leans in and kisses just behind your ear. You shiver. "It's okay. Tell me where you want me," he smiles against your skin.
"Inside me," you say, your voice small
Tangerine hums and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Where inside you, luv? I want to hear you say it for me."
You feel your cheeks warm and you stare up at him. "In my pussy," you say and Tangerine's eyes light up and he smirks.
"My pleasure," he says and shifts his hips until you feel his cock press against your pussy. He feels you tense as your hands tighten around his shoulder.
"Hey, it's just me," he says, pushing in slower now. He looks concerned as one of his hands finds your hair and pushes the strands away from your eyes.
Yeah, that's the issue, you want to tell him but you just nod, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Look at me," he says as he pushes inside you fully. You gasp, arching into him and your breathing becomes harsh. He's so thick and long. Tangerine doesn't move and you let out a whine, your eyelids fluttering. "I said, look at me.��I won't move until you look at me, darlin'," he whispers sternly.
When you finally look at him he smiles, "Do you trust me? I'm not gonna hurt you—promise."
You nod, biting your lip. Of course, you trust him. "I trust you," you answer breathlessly.
"Good girl," Tangerine praises and kisses your forehead. He starts to move his hips, pulling in and out of you with torturous strokes. He feels so good.
As he fucks you, he leans his forehead on yours, occasionally whispering praises into your ear as he tells you how pretty you look with him buried inside you.
"So fuckin' pretty with my cock inside your pussy, hmm," he grunts, continuing the pounding of his hips. "You close, luv? Already?" He teases you with a smirk and kisses your lips. You let out small moans, skin warm and sticky as you nod.
"Good," he smiles and uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding pressure as he fucks into you. "So good for me. All for me, hmm?"
"Y-yes," you groan, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Open your eyes, Peach," he demands and you do so instantly. "I want to look into your eyes when you come apart around me."
With that, the tension breaks inside you. Your body feels weak from the pleasure and your chest rises and falls rapidly once your high finishes. You let yourself relax into the mattress for a moment, ignoring the sudden stream of thoughts—good and bad—that race into your mind. Tangerine's lips touch your forehead again and then he pulls out, finishing on your stomach with a grunt.
You blink, feeling the bed dip and then his warmth disappears. You panic a little but you're too weak to move. If he wants to leave, let him, you convince yourself as you stare at the ceiling. However, when you feel something cold and wet across your stomach, you flinch and scramble to sit up.
Your eyes are wide and Tangerine pauses, removing the washcloth from your skin. He frowns a little, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly. You stare at him. He's still shirtless but he's pulled up his trousers.
"You aren't leaving?" you ask, looking around the room and you suddenly feel very bare.
Tangerine's frown deepens but he doesn't speak for a moment as he washes away his cum from your skin and, after discarding the washcloth, he reaches behind him to hand you his shirt. You accept it without thinking and put it on, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continue to stare at him.
He shifts, sitting beside you with one leg off the bed. He still hasn't answered and you start to feel an impending pit in your stomach.
"Why would I leave?" he asks calmly, his voice doesn't have a hint of concern in its tone.
You fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt, looking down. Your hair, now half-dried, is a mess from the pillows and you push it down and around your ears in an effort to compose yourself in front of him. "Well, I- I just assumed that you would—"
Tangerine tilts his head. "You think I would fuck and ditch, did ya? Ya think so low of me, Peach?" It feels like he sounds almost amused.
You shake your head but your nerves don't stop. "I mean, what do you expect me to think, Tangerine?" you look into his eyes and continue, "You come in here, all pissed at me—you yelled at me earlier and made me feel all shitty about myself—and then out of nowhere you kiss me and then we—"
"Fuck." Tangerine finishes bluntly.
You narrow your eyes at him. "Yeah, that," you let out a breath, "So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to think? What do you want from me now? Because I can't be one of your fuck toys, Tan. I refuse to be that girl. I- I care about you—" you feel your emotions get caught in your throat and you feel your eyes sting. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with your hands, refusing to cry in front of him.
Tangerine hasn't said a word. He's looking at you but you can't read his expression. You hate it. You shut your eyes, ready to call it quits, and tell him to leave, but then you feel the bed dip again and you feel his hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes snap open.
"Don't cry," he whispers, his thumb sliding under your eyes and catching your tears, "Please, don't cry because of a stupid bastard like me," he cracks a smile, hoping you'll smile too but when you don't and he sighs, "Okay, I was a dick, a real fuckin' dick, and you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry."
You nod, still listening to him, "You really were a dick," you whisper.
Tangerine chuckles and nods too. "Yeah. I was," he pauses and moves his thumb across your cheeks as if admiring you some more, "Do ya really believe I'd fuck ya for this to be a one-time thing, luv? That I'd just throw ya away after?"
Your cheeks feel warm. "I- I don't know,"
"You do know. You think I would do that to ya," Tangerine says, his voice low.
"I mean—that's what you do don't you? I've known you for years, Tan. All those girls—"
Tangerine suddenly laughs and his hands drop from your face. "Peach, you aren't those girls," he says, suddenly serious, "I wasn't just making it up when I said how hard it is for me to listen to you in my ear all the time. Not because you're annoying—which sometimes you are but that's beside the point—but because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years. You're all I goddamn think about. Do you understand how hard that is for me?"
You just frown, shaking your head a little. "No. This doesn't make sense. Why now—why not yesterday? Or months ago? Or years ago?"
Tangerine runs a hand in his hair and lets out a breath. "Because I didn't want to but I snapped, I snapped, okay? I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I yelled at you and I felt so bad after I didn't know what to do with myself anymore—
—you're always there for Lem and me, and I realized, after that fuckin' earpiece broke, that I hated not having your pretty voice in my ear anymore. It felt like I'd lost you—do you have any idea how scared that made me feel, even when I knew it was irrational and that you were completely safe?" His words come out jumbled and strained. "I fuckin' hated it, I hated feeling like that so I snapped," he finishes.
You stare at him, his words hitting you hard. You've never seen him like this and it scares you, but it also turns you on some more. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? "And I'm sorry. I am. I would never throw you away. I don't want to throw you away after this—especially after fucking you—that's the last thing I would want! I– I-"
You stare at him some more, your eyes wide, "You what—?"
Tangerine pauses, "I love you," he says, articulating every word so you hear him clearly.
"You love me?"
"Yes."
"As in love love?"
"Fuckin' hell Peach, ya want me to scream it at ya or somethin'? I'm in love with ya. I love ya more than anythin' I fuckin' have. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."
All your anger, doubt, and shame instantly vanished into thin air. He loves you. All this time he'd loved and he was just shit at expressing his emotions? You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as happiness overwhelms you.
"Are ya laughing at me?" Tangerine's voice cuts in the air and you focus on him. He looks surprised and hurt.
Your smile falters and you shake your head. There is so much you want to tell him that you're at a loss for words. He looks so pretty like this, sitting in front of you, and your hands find his cheek instead of using words.
Your fingers skim the bandage that's still wrapped around his ear and you want to ask him if it still hurts. You want to ask him so many things. He's staring at you, chest heaving, and you don't think as you kiss him.
It's softer than the previous passionate kiss you'd shared. Only, Tangerine reacts with as much eagerness as earlier. His hands find your back and he presses you against him, your lips sliding against yours. It's intense and lovely all in the same.
"I love you too," you say quietly between kisses.
"Say it louder," Tangerine suddenly hums, his eyes shut in pleasure. You think he needs you to talk louder because one of his ears is bandaged and hurt.
So, you do as he asks and it earns you another kiss, however when Tangerine mutters, "I wanna hear ya say it again," you know he heard you fine. His voice is so love sick you just grin and wrap your arms around him, your hands bunching in his curls.
"I love you, Tangerine," you say breathlessly, "I love you."
"You have no idea how happy ya just made ma, luv," he responds instantly, running his hand over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "God, I'd die for ya," he mutters and you frown, slapping his arm a little.
"Don't talk about you dying, you git," you reprimand, and Tangerine smirks.
He kisses your neck and with a teasing tone he reassures you, "Ya have nothin' to worry about, luv. I'd much rather live for you. You have all of my heart, darlin'. It's all yours," he guides your hand to press your palm against his chest and you feel how quickly his heart is beating.
"This beats for you."
You smile and kiss his lips once more as you bring his other hand to your chest too. "And I'm yours," you whisper. "Only yours."
And until then, you'd never seen Tangerine's grin widen as widely as it did when you said those words.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
ᡴꪫ sum. Chris is your college roommate who has a HUGE rumor about his exaggeratedly large dick. Honestly it's not your thing, you're too busy trying to fuck your teacher. But after a bad move in an attempt to conquer your teacher you end up in tutoring classes with Chris big dick.
warnings. fem!reader obscene descriptions, use of inappropriate words, dirty talk, Chris big Dick! penetration, hot massages, college and more.
wc. 7.5k
an. for more like this click here, my first language is not english.
"It's huge"
"It touches the sky"
"I've seen it"
"I've licked it"
"It can distort time and space”
Laughter and blushes came from the group of girls at the back of the classroom. They were talking about a topic that drove them all crazy... Chris's cock.
Chris was one of the most outstanding students in the entire university, and not just because of his pretty face and excellent grades.
More notable among the people was the rumor of his gigantic cock.
All the girls who had shared a bed with him could not help but blush every time someone snooped and looked for the answer to that open secret at the university, to end up amazed to receive confirmation of this in response.
“We have a date next week” Leila said to her friends.
"I saw it last week, my legs are still shaking," said a black-haired woman who was part of the group.
They continued to murmur and giggle while the rest of their classmates went about their business.
Some were talking about what they had done over the weekend, others were discussing what they had for lunch, another part was talking about volts, etc.
But in the first seat was a pretty black-haired girl with short, straight hair, talking to her teacher, or at least trying to talk to him.
It was obvious that she wanted something more with that rather scruffy-looking man, but he continued to play hard to get.
Seriously, I need private lessons, I have a hard time understanding the content that the teacher is giving - said the pretty girl unconsciously pouting a little.
Williams looked at her with a small sideways smile, leaning forward slightly to shorten the great distance between them, since the desks separated them.
Y/n continued to maintain eye contact trying not to wet her panties, that man was all she needed in life.
Since she was 19, when she met him in literature class, she longed to be under that tall, pale man.
Now 22, the man continued to act disinterested, perhaps 30 percent of the time responding to her hints suggestively.
But 30% was too low in his opinion.
He was aware of how his student felt about him; she wasn't his type, she was pretty and all, but he wasn't looking for what she wanted to offer him, at least not yet.
They continued to maintain eye contact, Williams answered peacefully, and even with a mocking tone, one might say.
"That's why we elected a class president, to take questions in case you don't understand something of the simple subject that I teach you, Miss y/n."
He walked away to sit in the chair next to his desk and pick up a book, ignoring the entire class.
"That's what we have a class president for" little y/n muttered annoyed.
The door to the classroom suddenly opened, revealing a tall, serious boy wearing a uniform with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and two buttons on his chest undone.
But the most important thing, at least for the morbid people, was the subtle bulge in his baggy pants, It was quite loose, and even in that size of clothing one could tell that pretty Chris was quite endowed.
"Have a seat, Sturniolo," Williams said without even looking at him.
The boy chose to be next to the girl in the front row who was playing with her cell phone in front of her teacher. She didn't even bother to look at him, she was still frustrated because after 3 years that man still hadn't penetrated her.
"Isn't anyone going to look at me today?" he said, somewhat irritated.
"I would pause the game to appreciate you better, but it's online and I'd be more interested in watching the paint dry on a wall than you," said the one with crimson lips.
"Ouch," he said, letting out a smile at such an answer while placing his hand on his heart as if it had broken.
"I can look at you all day Chris~" said a flirtatious blonde in the group at the back.
Chris just ignored her, he could give her all the attention in the world during sex, but at university, if he wasn't talking to you, don't even talk to him because he'll ignore you immediately.
He could be the most unpleasant person in the world when he wanted to be.
"We can talk without making eye contact if you don't want to look at me," he said, his gaze still glued to the girl beside him.
"No, but I'll let you look at me, after all...how could I not?"
The woman concluded arrogantly, concentrating on her game.
"We agree on that," she said, agreeing with the girl and making her smile.
"Just shut up Chris, you're distracting me" he smiled at this sentence to settle down with his arms behind his head.
Chris met the pretty y/n about 2 years ago, when she was moved to her class because of her high grades.
They had talked many times, after all they were classmates.
They weren't friends, but even without that trust that forms a friendship, he had noticed that she wanted something with Williams.
He had also noticed that the old man was not interested, something that amazed him, I mean, y/n was beautiful. The only thing that left a lot to be desired was her tastes: basically men twice her age, from what she had observed.
And how not to observe it.
The girl was practically his crush, his ideal stereotype: full lips, not too short or too tall, nice breasts, a gorgeous face and that asymmetrical haircut she always wore, usually disheveled, matching those small dark circles that gave him a mysterious aura.
Also, her sarcasm, her cold gaze and her sensual way of walking, were everything to him.
Of course, all this was true for most people, since with Professor Williams, the girl blushed, put on her most innocent expression, and let her most affectionate and tender side show.
Something Chris truly envied.
I wanted to fuck her, how could I deny it, but despite his reputation for having a more than enviable member, y/n was still obsessed with the bearded man, and despite having returned Chris's flirtations, things did not go beyond conversations that were sometimes heated.
The bell rang indicating recess.
Before y/n left ignoring Chris, he stopped her by lightly taking her arms that were busy holding the cell phone, in which the game had not ended.
"What's wrong, Chris?" She asked, looking at his phone as if his life depended on it, and well, it did in the game.
He loved the way his name sounded from her luscious mouth.
He had had the honor of hearing it more than once in the conversations he had with the girl, even the tone of voice he used to pronounce it when he was making fun of it was addictive.
The students had already left the classroom completely.
"Let's have lunch together" he said more as a statement than a question.
Before y/n could answer, Williams finally looked at him and addressed the boy...
"I have to talk to y/n, if you don't mind student" he said to look at y/n while she immediately put away her cell phone after a "DEFEAT" sounded marking the defeat in the game.
"Damn," she whispered, looking up at Chris and then back at Williams, "Could you tell me now, Professor? I really need to go with Chris, he said he would buy me lunch and I can't turn something like that down."
He hadn't thought she would accept, and he was aware that he was practically using him to make Williams jealous, but it didn't bother him, after all y/n was with him and not with the old man.
"It's a long topic, we better talk tomorrow if you're in such a hurry now, Miss Y/N" he said, taking his cell phone and writing who knows what.
"Okay, Professor Williams" she said in a rather saccharine manner for Chris's taste "I'll see you tomorrow then... get some rest" he finished, giving him a smile that caused Williams to return it, leaving Chris as a bad third.
The boy, to avoid feeling more uncomfortable and to somehow demonstrate his authority and superiority, took y/n by the hand and she gladly agreed at that moment.
He calmly led her out of the room.
They walked to the large courtyard of the university, and as soon as their steps touched the grass, y/n abruptly let go of his hand after noticing that "there was no Williams" anywhere.
"I'm not going to have lunch with you, I just wanted to see Williams' reaction."
He sat under a tree near them.
"There wasn't much to see," Chris said as he sat down next to her.
"Ha...ha, you are so observant Chris" the girl replied sarcastically, staring at him.
"I'm just telling the truth, I don't understand why you're still obsessed with him."
He brought his face closer to hers.
"How do you know?" She replied, moving a little closer to try to control the situation.
Their breaths collided and the sexual tension they had since their first conversation was still strong, something Chris loved.
"It shows y/n, let me tell you that the only thing you can do to get rid of that weird desire is to spend some time with someone else."
"Are you offering to be that someone, Chris?" she murmured in a rather sensual tone of voice, brushing her lips against the boy's on purpose to abruptly separate herself from him.
The glint of hope in Chris's eyes went to hell, giving way to a sly smile.
"You're not that lucky" she said, letting out his ego as he leaned against the tree behind him, crossing his large arms in front of his chest. "Although, if you want..." the love he felt for the female made him leave his narcissism in the background.
Y/n paid attention to his large hands and forearms that showed off not small tattoos and the occasional vein highlighting the fact that he worked out very well.
Damn, that guy was hot.
She was more than aware of the desire he had had in her for over a year, but she didn't want to sleep with Chris either, to tell the truth, she simply liked to provoke and make herself desired.
He wasn't her type, she wasn't attracted to guys like Chris, no matter how hot they were.
She was more interested in her usual fuck, Chris's friend, Nate; a guy with a pretty thick and pretty nice penis. Too shy for her taste, but hey... they gave each other several orgasms, and that worked, at least to de-stress on the weekends and the occasional work day.
"You are very cute, I can't deny it." Y/n said, coming out of her little trance, while taking her backpack with the intention of taking out her orange juice and some money to go buy her lunch.
"You are too," Chris replied as he watched the girl's actions.
She was perfect, her hands, her long legs, her profile, he really needed to be able to touch her as he pleased.
"I know."
He winked at her and stood up from his seat with the bottle of juice in his hand, heading towards the university's dining hall.
She stopped suddenly when he noticed something, and turned his head slightly.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked the boy who quickly looked away from the girl's pretty butt to her gaze that showed a raised eyebrow waiting for an answer.
"It would be a pleasure," he stood up, brushed any traces of dirt off his rear end, and stood to the side of the girl without invading her space too much.
They had shared some time together more than once, either for teamwork, or out of simple need for company.
Sometimes they both got fed up with people, and needed some "alone" time, during which they always ended up running into each other's presence, to end up sitting together to enjoy the silence and share a juice or a cigarette.
It was a strange relationship to a certain extent, they knew each other, they spent time together, they kept the sexual tension in their conversations, They both knew each other's character to a certain extent, but they had never gone any further.
Neither of them considered themselves friends, they were simply that person who liked you without knowing why, and that from time to time they share one or another little thing or time together.
They arrived at the food court, and proceeded to buy their lunch, Chris paid for both of them, each took their own and approached to sit at an empty table, located on one of the corners.
Y/n sat down first and patted the spot next to her for Chris to sit down, who gladly accepted.
"You agreed to lunch in the end, I'm not surprised," he said triumphantly after looking at her and bumping his elbow into the girl's in a friendly manner, without applying force.
"I did it because you offered to pay for it at the salon," Y/N replied with a smile as she went to take a bite of her tomato sandwich.
"It's not true, you said it" he said frowning.
"You paid for it anyway." She said, covering her mouth with her right hand to prevent Chris from seeing her chewed food as she answered him.
"Whatever...thanks...I like spending time with you" the girl said after swallowing. They both smiled at each other.
"You know I'm available for you whenever you want babe" letting out her flirtatious side.
"I have a name for something Chris" the girl rolled her eyes while he laughed quietly.
"And I have it engraved in my memory y/n" he said sincerely, leaving his very hidden cheesy side on the surface "I mean... come on! Who hasn't noticed how much I love you?" goodbye ego.
"You've already told me, and I'm sorry I can't reciprocate at the moment."
He placed his hand on Chris's, making the difference in size noticeable.
"At least... can we have lunch more times after this?" asked the boy who intended to continue spending time with his crush, no matter what happens, practically not giving a shit about her dignity.
"I accept" said y/n smiling at him
The bell rang just as the boys finished their lunch amidst irrelevant conversations and the occasional sexual innuendo as was customary.
They said goodbye and each went to their respective classes.
They were not assigned together until the next day, since they did not share all the subjects, they coincided in more than one, but not that day.
Chris and y/n continued with their routine that Wednesday, to proceed to arrive at their bedrooms at the end of the day.
The next day arrived, Thursday.
It was the first class of the day with a teacher who was quite old, older than Williams.
Nate sat next to y/n, and Chris sat in the back of the room with his date from last week, Melanie. They were all copying what the teacher had written on the board.
Well...not all of them.
Chris tried to do it, but the loud girl next to him prevented him from doing so.
He knew his potential in the sexual realm, and he knew it more than well, he didn't need a girl, with whom he didn't even understand why he agreed to fuck her, to remind him of it.
She had him fed up, even disgusted at some point, it was completely strange that he bragged in such an explicit way about how he fucked her days ago. Determined, he stood up, taking advantage of the fact that the elderly lady had left to get a coffee.
"I can't see what it says on the board, I'll leave you, thanks" he said quite irritated, walking quickly forward, leaving the female alone.
"D-don't worry" she murmured somewhat embarrassed since Chris had practically escaped from her.
"Didn't you say you were going to be a couple in less than a month?" her friend said mockingly, increasing the rejected girl's embarrassment.
Now in the first row of seats in the living room, Chris crouched down next to his friend.
"Can you sit with the one in the back?"
He whispered in Nate's ear, noticing that y/n had headphones on so he wouldn't interrupt any conversations between her and the boy.
"Melanie?" he replied in a low voice, trying not to interrupt the class any more than the aforementioned had done.
"What the hell do I know? The one in the pink shirt, the... the one who was with me" he said a little hurriedly and already fed up.
I really didn't want to go back to that crazy girl who talks about his penis in the living room, practically screaming.
"Oh yeah, it's Melanie." he said, glancing sideways at the girl who was now looking at the window. "How come you don't remember the name of your powders?"
"How you fuck y/n, so anyone would remember the name" Chris answered with a slight snort.
His friend already knew that Chris was quite attracted to the brunette; but he was too, and after all they agreed to be friends with benefits before Chris confessed his crush on y/n.
Nate blushed a little, the boy crouching down not getting an immediate response started to get a little upset.
"Fuck Nate, can you do me this favor? Don't be such a piece of shit" she murmured, staring at him with a slight frown on her face.
"Okay, okay...but you owe me one" his friend told him as he stood up and went to Melanie.
Chris smiled victoriously after getting rid of the girl and managing to sit next to y/n.
After about 40 more minutes of summarizing and copying texts, the teacher left announcing that the assignment was due first thing Monday morning. Her low heels echoed with each step she took, increasingly distant.
"y/n" Chris said, gently squeezing his crush's shoulder.
The girl took off her headset and turned her body so that her knees were touching the boy's as their gazes collided.
"If you wanted to sit with me, tell me, and that's it, I'd save your seat" said y/n mockingly, making Chris smile.
"I only did it because I couldn't see the board well, don't feel important, darling"
"I only did it because I couldn't see the board well, don't feel important, pretty" he replied while resting his forearms on his knees, leaning a little towards y/n's face, quite close to her.
Even though he was practically hunched over due to the position, the difference in size was still noticeable, and y/n was like an elementary school girl next to him.
The short-haired girl brought her face closer, not wanting to be left behind, as she looked at the boy's pink lips.
"I wish it was because you wanted my company," she murmured, forming a small pout with her full lips.
Action that caused Chris to bite his own unconsciously.
He would like her to make that pleading face while he penetrates her.
Damn, Nate was having a blast, all because he was a cute boy.
Before anything else could happen, the teacher returned to the classroom causing everyone to focus their attention on her, including Chris and the brunette.
"I forgot to tell you students, the sheets with this quarter's grades are hanging in hallway B3, and thanks to these, tomorrow they will choose the class president" He said and then left as quickly as he came.
"Oh, shit" y/n muttered a little stunned due to the news as she looked at the door where the old woman announced this.
"What?" asked the muscular boy next to her.
"I don't think I've passed more than 6 subjects" he said biting his lip with some concern.
The bell rang and the classroom began to empty except for about 4 or 5 students.
On the other hand, Melanie saw while she was leaving, "her" Chris with the girl in black clothes, too close together, causing her quite strong jealousy, since she imagined in the future having something more serious. although well, it's obvious that wouldn't happen, Chris doesn't even remember his name.
"What the fuck, y/n?" said Chris, astonished. "You were one of the ones with the best grades at the beginning of the year and now, at the end of the year you feel like getting terrible grades?"
"Come closer, but don't make fun of me, I know how you are" said y/n to proceed to be close to his ear and murmur even with pain. "Lo hice porque quería de tutor a Williams" She immediately pulled away, looking at the boy, waiting for him to respond.
Chris looked at her in disbelief.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard coming from you, y/n."
He told her seriously, which surprised the girl since she was expecting laughter or mocking comments as usual.
"Have you at least learned and remembered something from these three months?" Chris asked, only to receive silence from the girl.
"I don't understand anything about chemistry, physics, and mathematics. In those classes I spent my time sleeping and imagining scenes that would happen with Williams as my tutor" the woman admitted, still embarrassed.
"Damn y/n, there are ways to waste time, but fantasizing about the old man?" said Chris with a disgusted face, which made Y/N laugh out of sudden concern. alleviating her sudden concern a little.
"Listen, we'll go look at the notes, then we'll look for solutions, let's not rush" he finished by saying, receiving only silence from the brunette.
She nodded, standing up with Chris to head towards the infamous hallway where the leaves were.
When they arrived, they saw their grades, Chris A+ in everything, apparently sacrificing their hours of sleep to have a social life and good grades had been effective.
Now, y/n, had F's in at least 7 subjects.
Yes, the stupidest idea he ever had was lowering his grades to get his dream tutor, but what's done is done.
His "wonderful" idea was hurting his scholarship; it's not that he couldn't afford college, but that extra money from the scholarship was enough to support him during the month, you know, food, clothes, etc.
He could leave the clothes and the grass, but not the food, damn it, he wasn't going to spend every day waiting for his lunch or dinner to be paid for.
Damn, she was smart about some things and about others she was the biggest bitch ever.
All this because of her teacher's probably flaccid penis.
Before either of them could say anything, a throat clearing sounded behind them.
"This is what I wanted to talk to you about y/n," Williams said in his hoarse voice.
"Professor Williams, I swear I don't know what happened to me- he said, turning on his heels to look directly at the black-haired boy" Maybe it was the stress, I need to release the tension somehow- She said, insinuating herself once more...only to be rejected again.
"You'll be able to de-stress when your grades improve," he said frivolously before leaving.
Y/n was practically defeated, she humiliated herself and did something stupid so that the man she loved ended up upset with her.
But his masochism went further.
Last time's the charm.
"Professor!" She shouted from where he was, since he was already a bit far away.
He paused to listen to what the girl had to say, while Chris rolled his eyes imagining what was next.
"Could you be my tutor?" Y/N asked, accepted by her man. Hoping that this would be the time she was accepted by her man.
"No," he replied and continued on her way.
Y/n looked at Chris, feeling extremely embarrassed.
-He's an old man with bad tastes, that's why he's not interested in you like that y/n. -he tried to cheer her up.
Yes, only with her he was the most understanding and sensitive person of all. If it were up to him, I would spit on the rest of them.
"Hug me," the girl said with her head bowed, completely surrendered.
Chris did so without complaining.
Both hugging each other, in the middle of the hallway, with a heartbroken girl.
Friday had arrived, the previous day had ended normally you could say, Chris and y/n sharing juice and cigarettes, like every Thursday, while y/n was still sad about what had happened.
The first class began, and with it, the vote for the president of the class: the one who would receive 2 thousand dollars each month for a quarter, and the one who would be a tutor for students with very bad grades in exchange for more money, that was all.
"Christopher Sturniolo, is the one with the most votes, congratulations, you will receive the extra money" said a robust teacher while handing him the envelope with money as a prize for being the best in the class.
"Thank you," he said, looking haughtily around the room as his classmates applauded.
"The big dick is the president, what a surprise," said a blond classmate of Chris's with noticeable envy.
"I want him to be my tutor," his friend whispered in his ear, rolling her eyes and letting out a snort of annoyance at the other.
The class ended without anything relevant happening, giving way to the sound of the camera.
The girls started to want to seek tutoring from Chris, but he just told them curtly that he was busy this weekend.
They left, disappointed, leaving only a few students behind.
"It's a shame, I also wanted to ask for your tutoring, Mr. Chris."
"Teach me y/n" he said blushing, looking to the side to hide it, letting out a laugh. "I have the weekend for you, idiot."
Y/n raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth forming an "o", she didn't expect that but she was gladly not going to waste that attention.
"In that case, we'll meet in my room" she said, writing down the building and door number to give it to him.
Chris put it in his pocket after taking a quick look at the paper.
"See you later, y/n," he smiled at her with his typical sly smile.
"See you, Chris" the girl winked at him, leaving Chris quite happy.
Chris sighed, he was a bit nervous, a very unusual attitude for him.
The long-awaited Saturday had arrived.
The door to Y/N's room, he gathered his courage. He was in front of him, taking a few seconds to Fuck, he was one of the most wanted in the university.
He was cute, he had an enviable penis, gigantic without exaggeration, and yet I still felt like I wanted to vomit at that moment.
He was the best of all, in every fucking way.
"Fuck it" he whispered to himself as he knocked on the door while he stood as straight as possible, slowly letting out his confidence to the maximum.
The door opened, y/n looked at him smiling and after greeting him with a kiss on the cheek she let him in to close the previously mentioned one.
Y/n walked followed by Chris until they reached their double bed and patted the space next to it as she had used to do with Chris every time they were together.
He sat down next to her and proceeded to take out his books and supplies necessary for y/n to learn everything that she overlooked during the year due to her stupidity.
The clock struck 11pm.
Three hours of pure study passed.
They were both fed up.
Y/n couldn't concentrate, she was quite distracted, and Chris wasn't a person with patience, but he endured because after all, she was the one he was teaching.
"I give up, it's better that we rest" said the raven-haired girl as she let out a sigh and threw herself back onto the bed, unintentionally lifting her shirt, revealing her beautiful abdomen.
Before copying the female's action, Chris delighted in the sight, her body was quite small compared to his, his arm was practically the size of y/n's narrow waist.
The difference in size was quite exciting for him, although not only for him, the girl had also noticed that, and she loved it.
Chris left the books on the table next to the bed and lay down, resting his head on Y/N's shoulder.
"You're just as pretty as you are in terms of being stubborn when it comes to studying," he confessed, a little frustrated.
"I'm sorry, I thought you'd understand everything."
"Me too y/n, he said to bring his hand to his head and ruffle his black hair a little in a friendly way while smiling. But on the other hand, it means more tutoring" he turned his head to wink at her, receiving a small elbow from the girl's muscular torso.
A few seconds passed like that, Chris stroking y/n's hair, until an idea came to his head.
"Are you feeling very exhausted?"
"A little bit, why?"
"I know how to give massages," Chris replied with a mischievous smile at him, taking advantage of the fact that they weren't looking directly at each other.
Y/n immediately turned around, leaving her back and round ass exposed for Chris.
"I'm all yours," she said amused, referring to the fact that she was free to massage him.
Chris was surprised that it worked, he had never actually massaged anyone before, but for y/n he would give it his best shot.
The girl lay face down, resting her head, leaving her profile visible to Chris.
Something that really obsessed him was her little face; he imagined her a thousand and one times with lascivious expressions, with gestures even more sensual than those she already made unconsciously in everyday conversations.
Damn, he seriously loved it.
He proceeded to position himself on top with one leg on either side of her lower back.
He allowed himself to do something so daring because after all they had enough confidence, and if he didn't like something he would let them know.
"I thought the massage therapist didn't sit on top of the client," she glanced at him, seeing the smile he gave her in response.
"Do you want me to get off?" placing his hands on her shoulders and beginning to apply small pressures from top to bottom with his thumbs.
"Mmm...no" she answered, letting out a small, sensual purr before denying it.
He continued making small circles, exerting a bit of rather pleasurable pressure on y/n's shoulder blades.
The tiredness and frustration he had been feeling was fading, at least a little.
To tell the truth, he stopped thinking about his problems, more specifically about the old man who didn't care about him.
His bubble of illusion had burst, finally opening his eyes, he would never have anything with her.
It was something he had to face, and what better way than clearing his head with the cute blond who was there
"Are you enjoying it?" Chris said, momentarily bringing her out of the little trance she had fallen into due to the rough, pleasurable caresses.
"Pretty, I'm falling in love with your hands" he answered sincerely, he did it very well
"It was to be expected," the boy said, moving on to trace the curve of her waist and then back to her back and shoulders.
The brunette loved Chris's size, he was giant compared to her, she never thought she would agree to that kind of intimate contact with him, but those massages had been worth it.
There was even a certain touch of eroticism that was slowly warming her up, and after all, a good fuck might help her slowly overcome her outright rejection.
Chris was succeeding in his goal, and he noticed it when the girl began to let out little sighs of relaxation, and something else.
Suddenly, rumors came to mind.
Who wasn't curious to know the truth about something like that?
Should I...?
He didn't even think about it much because his mouth, almost as if it had a life of its own, asked the question, taking Chris by surprise.
"Hey Chris...How true is the rumor that...?, you already know..."
She blushed a little, not understanding why she was embarrassed, after all she was quite direct when it came to saying things.
He erased all traces of modesty and proceeded to answer her.
"Not to brag, but... it may be quite true."
"Oh... I see" she answered after feeling a small shiver of excitement as she felt the big hands move from her waist to the side of her breasts delicately.
Chris knew that Y/N never wore a bra, which gave him a perfect view of her nipples, the best view anyone could have. Taking advantage of that and the fact that she was wearing a tank top, I could feel her soft skin.
Y/n let out a sigh that sounded more like a gasp as she felt his hands repeating that action again, this time without hiding it.
"Make that sound again," he urged the female in a hoarse voice.
An erection was already pressing against his pants, it was more than noticeable, but it grew even more when he saw the profile, releasing another gasp as he closed his eyes and she delicately bit her lower lip in an attempt to not make a sound.
He brought his lips close to the girl's ear, making her feel his deep, heavy breathing, an action that immediately wet her as she imagined that he had the same breathing when desecrating someone with his large member.
"Can I put my hands in?" He meant under the blouse "it's for more direct contact and to improve the massage" he brushed his upturned nose against y/n's exposed neck.
She nodded almost immediately, feeling a chill as his hands did as promised.
"Do you need me to take it off?...It'll be less in your way that way."
He murmured in a more than suggestive tone, causing Chris to want to send his self-control to hell, but he understood that he had to go slow.
He also wanted her begging for him to penetrate her, he had waited long enough for that moment and it seemed that it would finally come true.
He removed her garment with a slowness that perfectly fits that sensual moment.
The girl was left with her torso naked, Chris was left speechless.
As his massages continued all over her back, delighting her, he slowly lowered his hips until they were glued to Y/N's cute ass.
The girl let out a gasp as she felt Chris's hard erection, by inertia she raised her hips, supporting her butt without hiding it, causing a pressure that managed to make the boy let out a loud sigh.
They both wanted it, they both desired it, and they knew it was mutual.
The large hands stayed at the side of y/n's generous breasts making small circles and pressures with the fingertips, implicitly asking for permission to touch them as he pleases.
She leaned on her elbows, leaving her breasts exposed.
Chris leaned down and began placing small kisses on Y/N's neck, while moving his pelvis simulating thrusts. His hands, without missing the opportunity, cupped the beautiful breasts of that girl who drove him crazy, rubbing and pinching her pink nipples, already erect from excitement.
"Chris" letting out a sigh to ask him "can you take off my pants? they're making me uncomfortable" y/n let out a mischievous smile knowing that he wouldn't refuse such a request.
Chris pinched her a little harder along with a harder "thrust" against her buttocks
"Are you looking for me to fuck you y/n?" he asked hoarsely as he bit her earlobe.
The girl gasped, fuck, how dirty talk made her wet.
"Yes," she whispered, turning her head a little more to brush her lips against the boy's.
"Ask for it" he pinched both nipples while moving his erection up and down in a delicious back and forth motion.
"Fuck" she whispered.
The guy was turning her on too much and he hadn't even tried.
"Yes...Chris...I want you to fuck me"
Chris kissed her sweetly and ended with a small bite on her lower lip from the girl, an action that pleased her quite a bit.
He proceeded to kneel on the floor and pull down her pants, to his pleasant surprise, the girl was not wearing underwear, leaving him an exquisite view of her shaved pussy shining with excitement, ready for him.
Without asking, he buried his face in the delicacy before his eyes, running his tongue up and down the girl's lips.
"Oh, fuck!" the female moaned at the sudden sensation, raising her hips so that Chris had better access to her intimacy.
Chris grabbed her buttocks firmly, leaving a spank every now and then making his pretty y/n gasp even louder.
His tongue moved expertly over the girl's pink entrance, he for his part was more than satisfied, he was performing oral sex on the girl of his dreams.
Her fluids of excitement were becoming more and more abundant, Chris gladly mixed his saliva with them to proceed to penetrate her with his tongue.
"Chris...ah" he moaned quite loudly as he felt like he was in heaven.
He continued simulating thrusts with his tongue, tasting his girl's sweet nectar, his erection already hurt, but he really wanted to make her enjoy like never before, prioritizing her pleasure.
Besides, who wouldn't dream of having y/n moaning and getting wet just for him.
So willing and devoted.
Fuck, he was living his best wet dreams, and he had to admit it was a thousand times better than he imagined.
"I-I'm close...ah..." she whispered, already clouded with pleasure while her legs trembled.
Chris increased the speed and no more than ten seconds passed before y/n began to have small spasms and release all her excitement indicating that she had cum in Chris's mouth. He gladly continued to squeeze every last drop of pleasure out of the girl. Her legs were shaking, but she wanted more, much more.
She turned her head, raised her hips higher, and thus exposed and ready for Chris, she said to him in a more than lascivious tone.
"fuck me."
He pulled down his pants along with his boxers, his erection that bumped against his belly when released, was easily 11 inches.
"Oh fuck," she gasped and bit her lip, making eye contact with Chris.
He turned his body completely to see better, showing a look of absolute surprise. Chris, for his part, captured in his head the image that y/n had given him: leaning on her elbows, her round breasts showing erect nipples that begged to be devoured by his mouth, her flat abdomen, and her legs open showing him all her completely wet sex, just for him.
But even more precious, her face, her little face showing a gesture of desire, looking at him with complete lust, her mouth half open, her brow slightly furrowed and her eyes a little watery from the recent orgasm.
He confirmed it again, this was a thousand times better than what was in his imagination.
She grabbed his erection firmly with her right hand, and moved it up and down the entire shaft of his hard penis as she moved closer to her.
Y/n ran her tongue over her lips and began to touch her clitoris, using her arousal as lubricant.
Both masturbating, letting out sighs and gasps in front of each other.
Chris rested his erection on y/n's swollen clitoris, rubbing it with his glans, to bring her face closer to his, giving way to a completely erotic, slow kiss that started a fight between their lips.
He rubbed his long cock over y/n's center in a delicious back and forth motion, moving his pelvis in a delicious back and forth motion.
They both loved that feeling, the heat of their sexes, causing a friction that made them release lascivious sounds, for the first time they were performing such an impure act with each other, but they did not regret anything.
"I want to fuck you until you beg for me to stop."
He murmured hoarsely against her lips as he groped the girl's body as he pleased, as he had so desired.
"Do it."
She smiled, completely devoted to him.
He started by putting just the head of his member in, just the tip in and out, making her want more.
He could have an iron will when he set his mind to it, he wanted to sink deep inside her, but he would endure anything to see her little face claiming his cock.
"Fuck Chris, please" she moved her hips looking for more depth in the penetration but he refused to give her what she wanted so easily.
"Beg."
He pushed in just a few more inches, grunting and making y/n moan.
She looked him straight in the eyes, with her expression of total ecstasy, Chris felt like he would faint at the sight, it was the best moment of his fucking life.
"I want it all inside, Chris."
Before Chris's control went to hell, she finished.
"I want all your cock in me."
And that was enough for the boy to succumb to the request, more than grateful that it hadn't taken longer.
He put his cock in halfway, feeling the vaginal walls open as his manhood passed through, receiving it completely, its wetness and heat were fucking paradise.
"You're so tight," he gasped and briefly closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the sea of sensations that his member was captive to.
"I-I want it all~" y/n was determined, with only half she felt her vagina trying to adapt to such thickness, but with y/n she wanted more.
"Are you sure?" he murmured.
He never asked something like that, he was always a bastard, but he couldn't do it with y/n even if he wanted to.
He was more than aware of his size, and on her small frame he would probably hurt her.
He gave slow penetrations with only half of his thick penis, gasps, moans and the obscene sound of fluids were present in that room.
"Make me cry, Chris" he said with a sad expression.
He moved his hand to her clitoris and began with small but firm circles, increasing the girl's pleasure.
He kissed her and while masturbating her, he began to insert his penis deeper.
"All of it...I want it all" he murmured between kisses, the girl felt like she could reach orgasm at any second.
Chris did too, but he wanted her to reach climax first.
"Ah!"
"Oh... Y/n" he growls as he feels her entire insides squeezing his cock.
He swore he felt it reach above his navel.
She leaned on her elbows and Chris lifted his torso so that he was on his knees with his entire length inside y/n.
Both in that position had a completely exciting view of their sexes joined together and shining with fluids.
She propped herself up on her elbows and Chris lifted his torso so that he was on his knees with his entire length inside y/n.
Both in that position had a completely exciting view of their sexes joined together and shining with fluids.
Chris began to move slowly, in and out, watching as y/n's pussy received his cock, squeezing it in an absolutely exciting way.
The girl was shedding tears of pleasure, she literally felt like she was reaching places she never thought she would touch.
"Moan louder."
He proceeded to give a hard thrust knowing that his girl wouldn't be in pain due to the level of ecstasy they were maintaining at that moment.
Y/n moaned non-stop while Chris let out grunts and the occasional low moan.
The breathing became heavier in time with the slow penetrations that Chris provided so as not to hurt her.
"Oh Chris~"
The girl could not hold back any longer.
She ended up under the predatory gaze of the boy who moved his hand over her clitoris without stopping, trying to prolong her orgasm as long as possible.
Y/N's legs trembled, her vaginal walls shrank on Chris's penis, her eyes rolled back in pleasure and she opened her mouth releasing a sigh of complete satisfaction, This was enough to make Chris feel like he couldn't take it anymore.
"Y/n...I'll finish" he said hoarsely between loud sighs as he continued to penetrate her in that slow and exquisite way.
"Finish inside me" she said in a more than obscene tone.
And with that sentence Chris threw his head back slightly, letting out a sigh at the same time he released his seed inside his precious y/n.
Before leaving, he kissed her with incredible delicacy, cradling her cheeks between his hands.
"I love you, Chris," the girl said with a shy smile, letting herself be carried away by the moment.
The boy smiled from ear to ear without hiding his genuine happiness.
He gave her quick kisses one after another, gently touching their lips.
"I...love...you...much...more...y/n" he said between kisses.
They both looked at each other and smiled, a sweet smile totally contrary to the lustful act committed between them.
Chris pulled out of y/n causing a small gasp from her, and a triumphant smile from him.
They both laid down, and Chris hugged her.
"You can stay if you want, it's a little late for you to leave."
Y/n suggested, hoping the boy would agree.
"I've been waiting for this for too long to leave so quickly."
The girl blushed.
"I love you y/n" he whispered to her while tenderly caressing the arm of the girl leaning on his chest.
The girl just let out a rather pleased smile at having the pretty boy at her feet.
Taglist: @sturncakez @l34n @tillies33ssss @jetaimevous @luvr4miya @xoxotaylynn @mattsturnswhore @sh4yla0m @rafecameronsbitch @sturnobsessedwh0re @zariyam @conspiracy-a @user11100044 @stvrniolowh0re @jnkvivi @sturnioloxlver @certifiedstarrr @demzzz-lovato-blog @musicizlife @khxna @lovekaiya @m0r94n @mattsfavbitchhh @soontosturniolo @imwetforyourmom @melonjollyranche @sssoniaswiftt @lovesturni0l0s @sturnthepot @stunza @starlace111 @xtravrgnoliveoil @juliasturnz @ovrour @realqueenofpepsi @sophiaxsblog @aaliyahsturniolos @gxldenlush @udonknowmeh12 @riasturns @stvrlighht @luvhsien @amayaaaho @sturniolowhore69 @ceceisapowderkinnie @ivysturnss @matttttiee @certifiedstarrr
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sturniolo Triplets Masterlist
❃ Unexpected
Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)
Summary: Where one collaboration with three brothers and an on online friendship leads to an ever bigger one along with his brothers.
A/N: Dani’s style depending on her mood its either like Tara Yummy or Sabrina Carpenter.
Video form: Youtube | Tiktok (Won't go into too much detail compared to the written ver.)
{ One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four | Twenty-Five | Twenty-Six | Twenty-Seven | Twenty-Eight |
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
WARNING: MATURE CONTENT
I thought it was about time I made things a little easier for you all🥺
If you’re new to my blog, hi! Welcome to the safest place on the internet for you to relax and explore your deepest darkest desires😏
Disclaimer: please don’t steal my work, because I have a very particular set of skills and I’m not afraid to use them☺️
Current total works: 18
~🖤~
Colby Brock
I thought we were ghost hunting? - EXPLICIT
Couldn’t resist a bad boy - EXPLICIT
I want to tell the world - EXPLICIT
You’re this close to cracking - EXPLICIT
You really think I’d ever let anyone say anything bad about you? - EXPLICIT
Cooking and dancing - FLUFF
Sam Golbach
More than friends - EXPLICIT
You’re being bailed out by Sam - EXPLICIT
Fuck, I’ve missed you so much - EXPLICIT
Kidnapping Prank - EXPLICIT
Anything for you Mrs Golbach - EXPLICIT
Are you happy now? - EXPLICIT
A time of the month accident - FLUFF
Sam & Colby
Tap once for no, twice for yes - EXPLICIT
You could choose both - FLUFF
Let it go, baby - EXPLICIT
Wattpad Novels
Our Time Is Now || Sam, Colby and friends Fanfiction
The Winchesters || Sam, Dean and Castiel Fanfiction
REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!
~🖤~
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
[👻] bad dog | colby brock one-shot
paring : little!colby brock x toxic/abusive!cg!oc (+ some cg!sam, if you squint)
summary : pure angst just pure pure angst honestly
warning/extra tid-bits : emotional and physical abuse, crying, injury, abandoning a little, swearing, all hurt NO comfort
word count : 892
divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (x's on the bottom are by @saradika-graphics)
a/n : I BLAME @nicksbestie THEY CALLED ME THE ANGST QUEEN AND I COULDN'T DISSAPOINT /j /lh ALSO in no way am i trying to romantize or glorify these types of relationships, i'm simply writing angst. (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl!)
“I get mean when I’m nervous, like a bad dog”
Colby gasped as he pushed away his caregiver’s hand- if you could even call her that. Caregivers didn’t yell at their littles, caregivers didn’t throw things two inches from their littles heads…and caregivers definitely didn’t make their littles shake in fear.
“Don’t push me away, I’m helping you.” She spoke, her tone only making the fear worse. “Go ‘way!” Colby sobbed, scooting himself further into the corner. His caregiver scoffed, standing up. “Fine, deal with your tantrum yourself.”
“I get mean when I’m nervous, like a bad dog”
“No!” Colby screamed, pulling his wrist away from his “caregiver”. “Don’t you yell at me!” She yelled, grabbing a random object off the countertop and chucking it at the man in front of her. “Ungrateful piece of shit!”
Maybe that was true. Colby did yell at her, which he knew wasn’t okay. It wasn’t respectful or kind…but he only yelled after she snatched his wrist so hard it brought immediate tears to his eyes. Colby looked down at his arm, now red and sore.
Why should he be grateful for that?
“I want to jump into blue water”
Colby sniffled as he wrung out the washcloth before bringing the damp cloth to his face. He looked down as the cold water trickled into the sink, he tapped his phone screen- frowning at the time.
1:30 am.
Sam would surely be asleep, he should be too. His mind was still clouded with a slight haze, leaving him halfway regressed. Jennifer had stormed out after throwing the glass cup at his face, threatening to never come back.
Was it wrong that Colby prayed it wasn’t an empty threat this time?
“And I miss riding horses,”
He missed filming videos with Sam- actually, he just missed Sam in general. Their channel was dependent on pre-shot videos…their friendship depending on iMessages and the occasional phone call.
Despite their phone calls only happening once a blue moon, Sam asked the same question every time.
“You good? You sound tired, man.”
Colby promised him he was fine every time, not wanting to worry the blonde man. He’d done this to himself. He was the one who decided to follow Jennifier to Colorado, leaving his best friend behind.
As Colby looked in the mirror at his injured cheek, he knew he wasn’t “fine”.
“I miss running fast,”
Sometimes- just before Colby closed his eyes for the night- he’d think about his favorite memories with Sam. He knew it was wrong, he was the one who chose to move two states away. He’d chosen this life away from Sam. Colby knew if Jennifer ever found out, he’d be in for a whirl of hurt.
Emotionally and physically.
He always fell deeper into his regression before bed. If he had it his way, he’d be in his caregiver’s arms. It wasn’t always like this- Jennifer used to be nice. She used to hold Colby, reading him story after story until he fell asleep.
It was only after she got him far away from Sam that the throwing, yelling and periods of abandonment started.
Colby sniffled, rubbing his baggy sleeve over his eyes to wipe away his tears.
“Just think of Sammy, Sammy’ll make it better.” His brain told him.
He was right. He thought about running through the empty fields of Kansas with his best friend. When the two moved to LA together, they ran up and down their neighborhood street. Sam liked the exercise- Colby liked spending time with his best friend.
Sam had known about his coping mechanism, because of course he did. Sam wasn’t just his best friend, he was his business partner. Of course Sam knew about Colby’s regression.
Once he fell while running- which sent him straight into his headspace. Sam didn’t miss a beat in comforting the little, assuring him he was the “bravest boy in the word”.
Laying in bed all on his own, tears streaming down his face, Colby didn’t feel like the bravest boy in the world. He just felt like an idiot.
“I pretended you were mine,”
“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Sam’s voice told him, arms like pillows as he cradled Colby close. “Sammy?” The dark-haired man sniffled, looking up at his best friend.
“It’s okay bud, Sammy’s got you.” The blonde promised him, holding Colby tightly. As if Colby would ever dream of leaving his best friend’s side again. “S-Sammy,” The little choked out, holding onto the blonde’s plush hoodie.
Sam shushed him, fingers dancing in Colby’s hair. It was nice. It was soothing.
“I’ve got you bud, nobody’s gonna hurt you. Never again.” Sam promised, taking a deep set pressure off of Colby’s shoulders.
“It made me calm.”
Colby gasped, shooting up out of his sleep. “Sammy?” He called, looking around him and Jennifier’s room.
Oh.
Him and Jennifer’s room.
Colby frowned, tears budding in the corner of his eyes as he attempted settling back into the empty bed. Sam wasn’t in Colorado, Sam wasn’t saving Colby from Jennifer.
Sam was nearly a thousand miles away, but tonight..tonight Colby would pretend he was right next to him, because it made the pain in his cheek- and wrist- and heart- hurt a little less.
Colby would pretend Sam was his caregiver tonight, because it made him calm.
taglist !! :
@beesonhoneytoast @mattssturnz @mattsturniologf444 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @cherry-red-heart @https--roman @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
the diamond lab
pairing: fem!reader x bf!chris
warnings: cutesy stuff hehe, y/n getting suspicious of her best friend and chris, one slight sexual joke, not proofread
part 2 part 3
word count: 945
aruba. it's known for it's stunning white sand beaches, the bluest ocean you'll ever dip your toes in, and warm sunny weather. this beautiful island is a place you and chris have been talking about visiting for ages, and it's finally happening.
you, your boyfriend chris, matt, his girlfriend (@flouvela) flora, nate, larray, sam, colby, tara, jake, and johnnie booked a trip to the island as a way to get away from reality for a couple days. you all booked a hotel at palm beach, a touristy area with so many dining choice to choose from. you all were so excited so excited to explore this island.
matts girlfriend is the reason you and chris ended up together. when you two were dorming in college she told you about this really attractive guy she went on a date with and it turns out he was a triplet! they both convinced you and chris to go on a date and get to know each other and the rest is history.
you all made your way to the hotel you'll be staying at and checked in.
"alright everyone, we're gonna get dressed and we'll go out for dinner." chris says.
"woah okay mr. boss man." you giggle, giving his lips a little peck.
you and chris were sharing a room. matt and flora, nick and nate, larray and jake, sam and coldby, and johnnie and tara wanted their own rooms.
"are you excited for this trip?" chris asks you. he grabs you by your waist and holds you close enough to see how bright your eyes are shining.
"i'm so excited, and i'm even more grateful you planned all of this out." you smile.
"yeah. i know how stressful it gets for you when you plan things so i thought it would be easier if i did it."
"oh so husband material."
"husband? i like the sound of that." he smirks as he captures your lips in a kiss. "c'mon sweet cheeks, time to get dressed."
you and chris finish getting and head down to the lobby to wait for the rest of the crew.
"what do you feel like having tonight, mama?"
"mm, i'm really in the mood for italian." you smile.
"alright, alright, you can wait until we get back to the hotel room."
you playfully hit his arm with a shocked expression. "chris! don't say things like that in public!"
"oh c'mon, you like it."
"okay, fine. i do, but stop it!"
"what are you two love birds talking about?" flora asks walking up to us with the rest of our friends.
"oh you know, just y/n wanting a piece of me."
"oh god, here they go again." larray jokes."
"chill, she suggested italian. is everyone cool with that?"
scattered agreement spread amongst your friends.
"they agree? usually they all want to eat something different..." you thought to yourself.
you all made your way across the street where all the restaurants and bars are.
"oh wow, that gelato place looks amazing can we go after chris?" you ask grabbing his arm like a child.
"of course, baby. i know you ned your sweet treats after dinner." he smiles down at you. "you look so beautiful, you know that?"
"you make me feel beautiful."
you finally pick an italian place that seems appetizing and wait to be seated.
"we're gonna have so many left overs if we all order something. do you guys wanna get a few dishes and split them so we wont have as many left overs?" you ask.
"yeah, that sounds like a good idea." jake says.
"make sure we get something that has no meat for tara." you say.
"you're so cute." tara says holding your hand.
once your food arrives you all dig in and chat amongst each other on how excited you are to be here and what your plans are for the next couple days.
you notice chris and flora are exchanging glances but don't think much of it. although it was a little weird, you didn't want to cause any problems and just wanted to enjoy this island with your boyfriend and your best friends.
after dinner and gelato you all decide to take a walk on the beach capturing memories on matts digital camera, your phones, making tiktoks, and just messing around. you really were having the time of your life.
watching the sunset is something you always loved doing. now you get to watch the sunset on the beach in aruba and it's a whole other feeling coursing through your body.
it was getting dark now so you all made your way back to your designated hotel rooms and got ready for bed.
"so, how was your first day here?" chris asks. you both are cuddled up in bed holding each other.
"better than i ever imagined. thank you chris."
"no, thank you."
"for what?"
"being you."
"you're so corny." you playfully roll your eyes.
"you love it tho!"
"i do. i really do."
"alright, sweet cheeks, bed time."
the next morning...
you wake up the next morning to face chris but notice he's gone.
"chris?" you call out.
"i'm in the bathroom, love."
you stayed in bed for a few and waited for chris to finish up.
"can i see the pictures you took of me last night?" you ask.
"yeah, of course. my phone is under my pillow."
you reach under his pillow to grab his phone and type in his passcode, your birthday.
you press the photos app and see a notification pop up from your best friend flora that reads...
"don't let y/n find out."
"what the fuck." you whisper, your heart dropping. "don't let me find out what?"
168 notes
·
View notes
Text
COMING SOON!!!
Mob!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Ballerina Reader
(I do my best to be as non-descriptive as possible, but I do use she / her and mention that reader is a ballerina)
Inspired by the question: Have you ever tried to eat at a restaurant, which happened to be a mafia / mob front, but you didn’t know that, and everyone inside just stared as you walked in because nobody actually eats there?
I FINALLY decided what I want my first piece back to be and I’m so excited shdiznejfns it’s very funny if I do say so myself. Once I got the idea I rushed and typed it on my phone and I already KNOW there are so many spelling errors because I have auto correct turned off and right now it looks like shit hahdndisfn. BUUUUT I just need to give it a quick read through / fix errors on my laptop and we’ll be good to go! Full preview below the cut :)
It had been Bucky’s idea to name the restaurant Tony’s. After their dear friend who had given his life in a war that should’ve never been fought.
It had been Peter’s idea to ‘open a restaurant’. He pointed out that it would be the perfect realistic cover, though Steve argued that they didn’t really need one. Everyone in Brooklyn and the neighboring cities knew who they were, why did they need to put up any sort of front?
In the end, Bucky sided with Peter. They needed a place to talk shop and handle business, and it had to be somewhere that the outside wouldn’t attract any trouble (aka law enforcement). A warehouse was too obvious and was practically begging to be raided. He agreed with Steve, though, in that everyone knew who they were and what their business really was. He pointed out that it was actually a good thing. It would be pretty obvious that the restaurant wasn’t a restaurant, and they wouldn’t attract actual customers. But they’d make it legit, so that they couldn’t be shut down. Like Peter said, they needed a realistic cover.
Within a month, Tony’s was up and running. Running, as in the lights were on during what would be deemed normal business hours. The door was kept locked, but that didn’t matter because as Bucky predicted, no one tried to actually eat there.
Until one day when rehearsal ran nearly 2 hours late. You were tired, exhausted mentally and physically, and you just wanted some comfort food before heading back to your apartment to enjoy the next 2 days off. Still somewhat new to the city, you decided to get off of the subway one stop earlier, and find a restaurant on your way home.
Luckily for you, a neon sign reading TONY’S caught your eye. Unbeknownst to you, there was a meeting going on inside, and someone had forgotten to lock the front entrance.
As you pushed the door open, you had no idea the events that were about to unfold.
💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫
IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED WHEN I POST FOR BUCKY, LET ME KNOW!!
611 notes
·
View notes
Text
pink in the night
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!
AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3
Repost
Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.
On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.
This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.
You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.
He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.
He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.
Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.
Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.
You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.
Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.
You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.
You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.
Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.
Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.
Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.
It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.
Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.
The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.
He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.
"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'
As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.
"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.
"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."
He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.
"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.
"No point."
Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."
"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."
Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.
Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.
The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.
He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.
"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.
"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.
"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.
"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."
Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.
He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.
He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.
When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.
He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.
"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.
You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."
He was gone by the time you turned around.
The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.
"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"
"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"
"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."
"He can't even masturbate you know?"
The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.
No, that blame could only lie with you.
When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.
You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.
You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.
" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."
"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."
"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"
"Yeah, man, really sucks."
Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.
You had to get to the bottom of this.
You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.
You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.
Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.
He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.
"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.
You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"It's stupid."
"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.
Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"
Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."
"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"
"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.
Bucky didn't miss that either.
He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.
"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.
"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.
He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.
"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.
He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.
He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.
"Off."
You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.
His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."
Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.
"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.
"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.
"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.
You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.
He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.
He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.
"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."
He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.
"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."
"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.
He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.
"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.
Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.
Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.
He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.
"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.
Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.
He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.
He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.
Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.
You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.
Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.
"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.
The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"
He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"
You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."
You stifled a laugh.
"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."
You looked at him confused, "Why not?"
"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."
You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.
"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.
He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.
He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you I love you I love you.
fin.
buy me a coffee
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
be your date
bodyguard!bucky barnes x actress!fem!reader
summary: you are invited to this year's met gala, and your bodyguard is against the idea of letting you go alone.
word count: 500+
warnings: 18+ mdni. nothing sexual, but still. some banters. hints of fluff. a sprinkle of tension. grumpy but protective bucky (yes, that is a warning!) sort of bratty reader? lack of met gala knowledge probably. usage of petnames such as princess. lowercase writing.
photos used are only for aesthetic and not to describe or visualise the reader!
note: just a little drabble to the story/plot i've been writing! since there was recently a met gala, i thought this would be a great tease for this story. i hope you enjoy this one!
dividers made by @firefly-graphics!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
“you shouldn't go.”
as a celebrity, privacy was a rare luxury, and having your personal life being constantly invaded became your new norm.
it also meant having a personal bodyguard to keep you safe, but no one ever warned you about having a bodyguard who was both relentlessly protective and unbelievably attractive with a permanent frown on his face.
god, would it be so bad to have a crush on your bodyguard?
“you can't tell me what to do, you know that right?” you shot him a defiant look, although you knew he wasn't trying to control you, just keeping you safe.
getting a reaction other than a grunt from him was your favourite hobby, anyway.
a delivery was found on your doorstep this morning, containing an invitation and a bouquet of flowers. bucky was beside you as you opened the envelope, and immediately, he was against the idea.
“what even is the met gala?” he eyed the invitation you were holding, brow furrowed while he looked offended by the piece of paper. “it doesn't sound safe.”
bucky had learned about the letters that you would constantly receive, and how half of them were unusual and even concerning. you could still remember the frown he had kept all day when you received a marriage certificate in need of your signature.
he made sure to burn it by the fireplace.
and grunted at it one more time.
“nothing sounds safe to you, jamie.” you argued, rolling your eyes at his protectiveness. you slipped the card back into its envelope, unaware of the faint flush that spread across his face as he heard you call him by the nickname you've given him.
“it's a ball that a bunch of celebrities go to every year, but i don't really find it that special. my manager thinks otherwise though.” you explained. “and i do have to go alone if i'm attending it since it's really private. they even prohibited phones inside, so it should be safe.”
“i don't buy it.” bucky pursed his lips, remaining unconvinced. “i'm coming with you.”
“they won't let you inside. they treat this ball as a highly exclusive event. even bodyguards are off the list. i find it silly as well, don't worry.” you sighed, recalling how uncomfortable it was every time. you had no choice since your manager called it good publicity and a necessity for your career. “oh, unless i bring a date. i could probably sneak them in as a plus one. they love seeing a new pair to spark conversation. do you have anyone you trust enough to be with me so you can calm down?”
you waited for his response, but instead of answering, bucky took a step towards you, his gaze intense and unwavering. he looked at you with such intensity, making butterflies flutter in your stomach that none of your co-stars could do to you.
“i'll be your date.”
your eyes widened in surprise. was he serious? “what?"
"you asked me who i trust enough to be with you." he repeated, his face now inches away from yours, a faint smile dancing across his face. “well, princess. that person would be me."
i may have changed reader from sunshine to confident/bratty because i genuinely can't write a sunshine character without giving up... i'm not the best with jolly emotions. i think it still worked out tho!
oh, and here's a silly lil instagram post. thank you for reading!
if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
551 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bucky Barnes fic recs pt.4
back to main navigation
fic recs (pt.1)
fic recs (pt.2)
fic recs (pt.3)
one-shots
A Day in the Life by @ofstarsandvibranium
Doggone It by @skaye44
Gym Buddy by @delusionalwriterr
Had to be You by @jobean12-blog
It’s a Wrap! by @jobean12-blog
Mommy Hurt by @sergeantbarnessdoll
One Night by @buckyalpine
Please can I hold you? by @itsthewritergal
Shoot Your Shot, Cupid by @sagechanoafterdark
Sweet by @heli0s-writes
the sun by @yourmidnightlover
The Truth is: I’m a Liar by @imtryingmyfuckingbe
You Have a Girlfriend? by @antiquarianfics
series & multi-parts
My Roommates Boyfriend by @angstysebfan
Reconnect by @navybrat817
to build a home by @ussgallifrey
social media AUs
this must be fake by @morsmordre-writes
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Broken
A failed marriage wasn’t in the cards for Reader, she thought she found her happily ever after with Barry. While trying to overcome the heartbreak, a tragic event brings them back together temporarily. Will the devastating loss bring them back together or be what pushes them apart for good?-ON HIATUS
*SMUT
ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EIGHT | NINE | TEN* | ELEVEN | TWELVE | THIRTEEN | FOURTEEN | FIFTEEN | SIXTEEN |
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hate or Jealousy? -Part one
Pairing- Oliver Quick x F!Reader
Summary- When your cousin, Felix, invited his friend Oliver over to Saltburn for the summer, you hated him and didn’t know why.. you want to figure out his intentions.
Warnings- Cursing, possible mentions of ed, slightly bitchy reader(js spoiled n rich so), masturbation, possible stalking, not proof read
A/N-Happy new year! I hope everything is going well for you guys. I just watched Saltburn last night and OH MY GOD. I had to pause the movie a few times and think abt what I had just watched. Still an amazing movie of course and ik I had to write something about Oliver. so enjoy!! (inspo is from venetia and oliver's interactions.) word count- 1.4k
comment to be added to tag list. NEXT PART HERE
Requests are open!
—
For some reason, you didn't like Oliver. You didn't like the way he looked at you when Felix first invited him, it was as if he was trying to undress you with his eyes.. Did you hate him? Were you jealous of him? Or did you find him slightly attractive? You couldn't make up your mind. It was all over the place, emotions poking and showing on your face as you looked at him almost in a judgmental way. You think it was also the way he acted, all sweet and innocent.. his eyes showed someone different. He's hiding himself. but why?
Everyone is sitting at the table, Felix sat next to you and Oliver is sitting across. Everyone is conversing as normal, but you stay silent, nothing in the conversation is peaking your interest since your aunt, Elspeth, is just gossiping. You pick at your plate with your fork, unable to eat a single thing, your free hand messing with the silky fabric of your red dress. You look across the table and look at Oliver, practically glaring at him without a care. His features weren’t bad if you were being honest with yourself. It’s almost as if he knew you were looking at him because he diverts his attention to you quickly. You look back down at your plate, embarrassed he saw you. You saw him smile before getting back into the conversation with the family again.
After dinner, everyone disperses to their room and you walk back to your room. You sigh as you lay down on your bed, spreading out onto the duvet. You curl your pillow in your arms and rest your chin on it. Sighing, you kick your legs up behind you, swaying slightly as you think to yourself.. you think about Oliver. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Why was he so interesting to you? Something about him made you want to investigate him, figure out his intentions but it’s too early to do that now since he just got here. Time passes and you’re still lying down thinking about the whole situation, unable to sleep. Sighing, you hop off your bed and walk out your room.
You sit on a stone bench near the garden, hugging your cold goosebump filled arms as you look out into the distance. You hear footsteps and turn your head to see Oliver, wrapped up in a blanket you assumed he took off his bed. You raise your eyebrow curiously as you look him up and down. “I thought you were sleepwalking.” He chuckles slightly and looks down at you timidly. “Yeah no.” You force a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep , that’s all.” Oliver unravels himself and puts the blanket over your shoulders. “It’s cold out.” He says in a soft tone, puffing out his chest as he inhales. You scan over his boxer briefs with a hidden smirk, his tone arms and stomach staring back at you. “Are you not cold?”
You snap out of your trance and look up. “I am actually. Thanks.” You laugh dryly as you maintain eye contact. Oliver doesn't break it, he keeps his blue eyes locked on yours with an almost untrue smile. "Are you not cold?" You laugh as you refer to his almost naked body. He shakes his head and laughs embarrassedly. "N-No.. i'm fine." You nod your head and eventually look away.
"I see why Felix likes you." Oliver hums in confusion. "You're different.." You stand up, hugging the blanket around you still. "But.. I see you, Ollie." You whisper as you get closer. "I see you hiding." His lips tug up into a small smirk. "Yeah?"
"Yeah.." You look him up and down one last time before walking off, taking the blanket he gave you. His eyes were burning a hole in the back of your head as he watched you with a smug expression.
-
Next morning comes and as usual, the whole family is gathered up again, eating breakfast. Oliver comes and sits in the empty seat next to you. You look down at your thighs and clear your throat before taking a sip of your drink. Oliver conversates with your aunt, attempting to be nice. You look across the table to Felix and hum knowingly. He laughs as he looks at you, shaking his head before going back to eating.
After eating, you, Farleigh, Felix, Venetia, and Oliver hang out near the small lake. You and Farleigh are sitting next to Venetia on the dock, her hair in the water as she lays on her back, Felix and Oliver sitting on some chairs by the side.
"I don't think I like him." You say softly as you look over at him and Felix conversing. "Well he is Felix's toy.." "And we know Felix doesn't like sharing his toys." Venetia says in a teasing yet sarcastic tone. "True.." You hum as you bring your knees to your chest. "You think he'll last long?" You look at them both and they quickly shake their heads no.
"I think Felix is gonna get bored of him soon. He's so clingy.. and he was a nerd no one wanted to sit with at college so." Farleigh shrugs as he tugs at his curls. You stifle a giggle and roll your eyes sarcastically. "Oh stop.. he's such a sweet boy." You say in a softer tone. "Lets not lie now." Venetia scoffs before she laughs. You look over at Oliver again and you can see him eyeing you down.. that same stare that he did when you first met. He's undressing you again. You look away with a small eye roll and continue your conversation with Farleigh and Venetia. "I swear he's hiding something.." You scoff as you look down at your knees. "He's always looking at me as if he's trying to see how much i'm worth.." Venetia lifts her sunglasses up to the top of her head and looks at him. "Maybe he wants to get in your pants." She teases. You and Farleigh laugh and you gently hit her arm.
Its dinner time again and this time you're wearing a long white dress with a fold-over off shoulder look. You're picking at your food, again, still processing Oliver in your head. He needed to get out of your head for god's sake, you didn't like the boy. "So Oliver.." Elspeth starts, "How are you finding it here?" She looks at him with a smile and he smiles back. "Uh- Yeah.. yeah it's nice. I get lost sometimes but I find my way." "Good." She smiles and takes a sip of her red wine. Oliver looks down at his plate with a smile as the small chatter around the table starts up again. He looks up at you and you look back. "Did you ever go to sleep last night?" He asks in a restrained voice, just loud enough for you to hear. You nod slowly. "Mhm.." He smiles at your response. "Good." His words stuck to you, as if he wanted you to say yes.. almost as if you obeyed him in some way. You look down and drag your teeth along your bottom lip, feeling some sort of arousal course through your body, finding its way to your core. You just had to get through dinner.
Dinner is done and thank god it was. You felt as if you were about to burst, it was dreadful. You go to your bathroom, making sure to shut the door, and draw yourself a bath. You run your hand under the water, checking the temperature and immediately hum in satisfaction. You strip yourself of your dress and undergarments, leaving them on the floor by the tub. You sink into the tub, moaning at the nice feeling of warm water against your frigid body. You hum to yourself as you snake you hand under the water and down your stomach, finding your swollen bud. You let out a soft groan as you slowly move your digits against your clit, your hips moving in rhythm. You tilt your head back against the edge of the tub, your mouth left open as you let out inaudible moans. You had yourself yearning for more, the only image in your head is the man you hate, Oliver. You replaced your hand with his, imaging he was with you at the moment rubbing your soaking wet cunt. You whined and moved your fingers faster, your legs lifting up slightly. You bite your lip and cursed to yourself as you felt yourself growing closer to release, your eyes fluttering close. You wanted him so bad but you fucking hated him.
Your whines and whimpers fill the bathroom, probably almost loud enough for the whole manor to hear. You could just imagine him kissing on your neck while he fingers you against the counter of your bathroom, forcing you to look in the mirror while you moan out his name. Your juices dripping down his hand and his groans against your neck vibrating your body. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and you eagerly buck yourself into your hand while you moan uncontrollably. Your back arches and you can your legs shake slightly as you finish. You pant, pulling you hand off your clit. You exhale as your eyes open slightly. Turning your head, you look at the door and noticed it was cracked open. You swore you had shut the door and you bite your lip nervously.
Was someone watching you?
-
628 notes
·
View notes