#Fluffy yet smutty is the way to go

[oreo-creampies]

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐢𝐧’, 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧’ 𝐧’ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: high!reader, satosugu au, cocksucking/face-fucking/pussy-eating, double pentration (same hole/no anal), heavy heavy praise/teasing, confessions, heavy overstimulation, mindbreak, squirting, dacryphilia, begging, creampie, satoru sucks on the mix of cum that suguru scoops out of your cunt, cervix fucking, letting wine trickle into your mouth with a kiss/licking wine off of you, first time with the reader, size kink, satosugu in an established relationship (they had talked about their feelings with each other for you previously/Satoru has talked to you and set something up for suguru’s b-day), bdsm sex room, bondage (with long silk ribbon instead of rope), suguru is blindfolded temporarily, biting, spanking

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞! 3.1k/11 minutes

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: HI PRETTY;!! today marks geto suguru's birthday iirc (3rd of February), so could this nonnie pretty please with a cherry ontop request something, anything that involves his birthday!! :3 bonus points if Satoru's being a tease to him all the way through ♡♡ can be smutty or fluffy according to your own fantasies, author!

Oreo: thank you anon for reminding me about his b day it straight slipped my mind! 🫶🏽

Satoru leads Suguru towards you, long blue ribbons wrap around your chest, and waist, binding your arms behind your back. Your legs are free, unable to touch the floor. A small bullet vibrator is pulsing on your soft, sensitive clit. Your cunt is dripping wet, your body is trembling, and you can't stop moaning.

Satoru reminds you, “Don't speak yet gorgeous you’ll ruin it.” Suguru’s cheek, stopping Suguru close to your bound body. Satoru glides two long, thick fingers in with a loud squelch. “You can moan all you want sweetheart.” Satoru pumps his fingers faster, stroking your sweet spot.

Satoru lets go of Suguru, leaving him standing with a blindfold on and his hard cock hanging. There is a thick white pre-cum beading up on the tip of his cock. He remarks, “She sounds sexy, looks like we don't have to gag this one.”

“I had a feeling you’ll like how she’s sounds. Best birthday gift we’ve given in years.”

“We?”

“You'll see.”

Satoru admires your soft cunt stretching for his thick fingers. “I wanna be able to hear you when I close my eyes and touch myself.” Satoru glides his fingers out, smearing your slick on Suguru’s lips.

Suguru takes Satoru’s fingers into his mouth, licking and sucking with a loud groan. Till Satoru glides them out. “She tastes so good, I want more, lemme eat her out.” He reaches for the blindfold when Satoru gently grabs his wrist.

Satoru spits twice into his palm smearing it cover Suguru. Lowering Suguru’s hand as he drops his head back, softly sighing. “Fuck, love your hand is so damn soft.” Satoru lets him go, and closing the small space. Grinding his hips rubbing their cocks together.

Satoru looks down at the soft smile of lustful bliss on Suguru’s lips. “I'll let you take this off if you let me give you something first. It’s your birthday.” He slips Suguru’s blindfold off, tossing it aside.

Satoru steps aside to let Suguru see you. “We indeed, princess your trembling, how many times have you cummed? Let’s see if he can guess.” Satoru hugs Suguru from behind with one arm. Grabbing Suguru’s thick, heavy cock, slowly gliding his fingers over his head, smearing Suguru’s thick pre-cum.

You moan, “Lost count! It feels good! I want more! Want something to split my cunt open.” The veins in Suguru’s cock pulse with his heartbeat racing.

Satoru pumps his swirling fist faster. “Helped her get high as fuck before tying her up. Left her with a vibrator on her clit, which is why she left the party a little early and why I spent so long in the bathroom.” He kisses Suguru’s shoulder, then bites.

Suguru moans, grinding his ass into Satoru’s cock. “Both of you will be forgiven if you let me do what I want.” Satoru grabs Suguru’s hair and tugs.

He protests, “But it’s your birthday!” Satoru slowly swipes his thumb over Suguru’s head. “Lemme suck you off, you can watch her cum, that vibrator is not going anywhere.” Satoru gets on his knees in front of Suguru, looking up at him, holding his cock up. His head close to Satoru’s lips.

“You look beautiful staring up at me like that.” Suguru grabs Satoru’s hair. “How’s about you suck my cock in between me stuffing it in her cunt?” He nudges Satoru’s lips then glides his cock deep into Satoru’s soft, warm wet mouth.

You can't string the words together, “Nnn fuck! Gonna! Nn! It feels!” Your soft cunt is squirting thick clear cum, writhing in the blue ribbon, your thighs trembling, your loud moans feeling the room.

You whine, “Too much! Wanna cum! Too muuuch!" Thick tears trickle down your face, and your cunt is dripping, adding to the puddle.

Satoru grabs Suguru’s thighs, digging his nails in. Suguru lets up, gliding his cock out and giving Satoru a moment to breathe.

Suguru remarks, “Our beautiful princess is obliterated n’ so fuckin’ wet. It’s been two hours! You’re so mean to her but fuck this is the best birthday gift y'all could have given me.” Suguru holds Satoru’s head still, his thick cock in Satoru’s throat, his nose touching Suguru’s short dark hair.

Slowly Suguru glides his cock out of Satoru’s mouth. Spit drips down Satoru’s chin, tears trickling down his face. “Crying from choking on my cock this easily? You’re such a pretty mess.” He smacks Satoru’s cheek with his heavy cock.

Satoru grabs his cock and trails soft kisses along him. He looks up at him with bright blue eyes. “Says the one getting off on it. Isn't that right daddy? You always like makin' me cry, make me beg to cum while my cock is drooling pre-cum.” Satoru quickly glides Suguru into his throat, gagging.

Suguru groans, tightening his grasp on Satoru’s hair. Keeping Satoru’s head still Suguru decides, “You less annoying with my dick in your throat.”

You cry, “Fuck!” The toy on your clit is becoming too much. You rub your thighs together; do nothing to move the vibrator off your clit. “Please! Please! Please!” Suguru glides his cock out of Satoru’s throat and steps around him. Leaving him on his knees trying to steady his breath.

Suguru turns off the toy, giving you instant relief and frustration. “Wanna be touched. Please! Wanna cum! But I'm tired of the toy!” Suguru gently takes the tape off, and you tense up, wincing from the soft stinging.

He tosses the toy onto the nearby bed. Then looks down at you, the admiration in his eyes has you feeling beautiful and desirable. “Poor sweet, beautiful mama. he gave you a lot didn't he, left you tied up in our sex room and made me think you left early.” He kisses your sensitive, puffy clit. You can feel your pulse in your clit. Going from the intense stimulation to no at all is unbearable.

Suguru grabs your thigh, holding it up, gliding one thick, long finger into you, softly pressing his thumb on your throbbing clit. You tense up, the pleasure is boarding on pain. He croons, “So sore and sensitive, the sudden lack of stimulation must be unbearable." He keeps his finger and thumb still.

You moan, "It is! Your hand feels wonderful, I love it when you touch me." His hands are slightly rougher and bigger than Satoru's.

Suguru wonders, "Are you sure you want more? I can take you down, clean you up, cuddle you close. keep my hand on your cunt. We can possibly let Satoru cuddle us." Satoru turns around on his knees and grabs Suguru’s hips then bites his ass.

Suguru jolts, his knees momentarily buckling before regaining the strength. He reaches back and grabs Satoru’s hair, “Damn brat.” He pulls Satoru off of his ass, pulling him up to his side. Causing Satoru to quickly move on his knees.

Suguru glares at Satoru who proudly smiles up at him. He wraps his hand around Suguru's cock slowly pumping his fist. "Do you want Suguru's fat cock in you?" Suguru lets go of Satoru's hair.

Satoru leans in and licks your dripping wet hole. You groan, "Fuck me please do what you want." You wrap your leg around Suguru's waist pulling him closer. Suguru stops you from closing the space completely. Gliding in another finger stretching you out.

Satoru pulls away, then sucks on Suguru's balls. Suguru groans, "He's such a fuckin' whore, now he can bother you more and me a little less. Welcome to the gojo problem."

Satoru pulls away from Suguru's balls and exclaims, "Hey I'm a delight."

"Sometimes."

"Occasionally a menace but you're our menace. It can be charming."

Suguru kisses your forehead then warns, "You're encouraging him."

Satoru stands up and wraps his arms around Suguru’s waist. Resting his head on Suguru’s broad shoulder. "She's right, you love it about me." Suguru's hips lightly buck when Satoru traces along his v-line.

Satoru insists to you, "Tell him sweetheart."

You wonder, “Like this?! Why not after?”

"Why not now?"

Suguru softly cups face. “You’re incredible mama, the color of your nipples, your soft clit, your wet lips.” He leans in, “Tell me princess.”

Your body flushes with a different type of heat. You look away from Suguru's intense gaze, “It’s stupid!” Tilting your head back groaning when Suguru's fingers graze that sweet spot that consumes you with sweet pleasure.

Satoru croons, “Aw you're sexy getting embarrassed while tied up."

Suguru pumps his fingers faster, lightly swiping your clit with his thumb. He gently kisses your cheek, urging you, "Close your eyes and say it beautiful."

You close your eyes and blurt out, “I'm not dating either of you so how can I be in love with you?" Suguru softly kisses you, gliding another finger in. Stretching out and loosening your soft cunt with his thick fingers. Your soft cunt squelches as he fucks three thick fingers into you.

Satoru pulls away from Suguru, moving behind you. Softly squeezes your ass before slapping both cheeks twice. He brings up, "It’s not like you don't already live here, it’s not like we message you good morning and goodnight when you do stay at your place.” He softly plays with your nipples, lightly squeezing, pulling, and massaging between two fingers.

Suguru adds, “Taking you on our dates, putting you in the middle. It chases off anyone that wants to flirt with you, we’ve been so damn obvious." He flicks, pinches, and twists your soft nipples.

You cry into Suguru's sweet, soft kiss. Suguru focuses on your sweet spot. Your soft cunt clenches his thick fingers. You're so close, getting off on the sweet pain as much as the overwhelming pleasure.

Satoru eases up, taunting you, "Aw how badly did that hurt?" He softly massages your aching nipples. Pressing his hard cock against your back, slowly rutting his hips. His pre-cum is smearing on your back, soaking into the silk wrapping around your waist.

Suguru glides his fingers out, smearing your slick on his thick cock. Then lines himself up with your soft cunt, lightly nudging his thick cockhead into you. "Fuck your soft cunt looks so beautiful love seeing the way she stretches to take my fat cock."

You moan and tug Suguru forward with your thigh gliding more of his cock into you. Suguru bottoms out and grinds his cock on your cunt, your soft cunt rubbing the soft ridge of his cockhead.

You whine, "Please!" Suguru slowly sinks his cock into you. Watching every inch glide inside your soft lips rubbing his cock. Satoru gets on his knees, groaning as he licks your hole stretching around Suguru's cock.

He kisses Suguru's balls and bites his thighs. Causing Suguru to roughly thrust in you. You whine, "Nnn fuuuck me." Suguru slowly fucks your squelching, warm cunt. His balls hit Satoru's face as he loudly groans. His warm tongue is soft on your cunt and Suguru's cock.

Suguru softly wraps his hand around your throat. "I thought we were too obvious. We haven't gone a single day without seeing you in the past year that we have met you." Satoru bites your ass, slapping your other cheek.

You cry and try to twist your hips away from Satoru. Who moves out from underneath you when he lets go. He grabs your hips and fucks you on Suguru's cock, making you meet Suguru's slow hard thrust faster.

You sheepishly moan, “I thought! Nnn I thought! Both of you were being really friendly.” Satoru rolls his eyes, letting you go and stepping away. His attention shifts to the wine in a bucket of ice.

Suguru lets your throat go, letting him grab your hips. Keeping his rough, hard pace steady. His face looks so beautiful when he is chasing his own pleasure with your cunt.

His soft brown eyes are fiery with an intense passion. His cheek flushing a soft pink, his mouth forming an o.

Satoru rolls his eyes, “Suguru might look sweet, but he is an asshole look at him! He barely tolerates anyone." He pops the wooden top off making Suguru and you jump.

Suguru with his cock in you snaps at Satoru, “I don't want to hear it from the sadistic dick that left her drugged and tied up with a vibrator.” He flips Satoru off who comes over, pouring some of the wine onto your tits soaking you.

Satoru defenses himself with, “I checked up on her when I was going to the bathroom.” He takes a swing then grabs your hair, yanking your head back and kissing you roughly. You part your lips and cool wine trickles in, forcing you to roughly swallow.

Suguru dips his head and licks the wine dripping down your chest. Slowly rolling his hips gliding his cock into you. Satoru pulls away and walks behind you, keeping his grasp on your hair firm.

He tilts the bottle pouring wine. You have to close your eyes and open your mouth Some of it trickles down your chin and neck. Suguru licks it up, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist.

The wine run dry, Satoru slaps your ass and lets your hair go. He walks away with the bottle setting it down on the closest surface.

Suguru groans “You’re so fucking wet, so soft n’ warm, love feeling your soft cunt squeezing my hard cock.” Fucking his thick, veiny cocky into you harder, faster, groaning when your cunt clenched him.

You loudly cry, “Daddy! Harder! Please! Fuck! Right there! Please wanna cum, please.” Suguru cock head is stroke that sweet spot. The pleasure is overwhelming, sweet and addicting making it hard to think.

Satoru comes back cock in hand waiting for Suguru to slow down and move his arm so he can line himself up.

You whine when Suguru stops and Satoru croons, “Don't worry your daddies are gonna help you cum, fill you full of cum, then cuddle you close after we clean you up.” Suguru bites your neck causing you to cry.

Satoru groans gliding his thinner but longer cock in, touching your cervix. The gentle burning ache fades with each of their unevenly thrusts, become toe curling pleasure, you’re so full of their thick, warm cocks.

Their cocks are rubbing together inside of you. Fondling your soft body with their large hands unable to get enough of how you feel. The sweet high makes your pleasure mind-numbing, body-tingling and intense.

It’s like you can't stop cumming. Your cunt is squelching, quivering and dripping wet.

Suguru groans, “You’re our’s! Need to hear you say it princess.” He slips his hand in between swiping your clit with his thumb, watching your cunt. “It’s so fucking sexy that your soft cunt can take both of us. Nnn Satoru’s is longer so my head keeps rubbing right beneath his.”

Satoru moans "It’s pushing me against her cervix, it’s like I might slip through, get deep in her guts.” Fucking you harder, you tense up, your toes curling jaw crying and eyes burning with tears from the sweet pain.

Satoru insists, “Tell our Daddy what he wants to hear, make this the best birthday we could give him." But the words are barely registering with you.

Fat tears trickle down your face. You cry, "Mine! Fuck! Miiiinnnnn! Daddy! Wanna!!”

Satoru breathy chuckle becomes a loud groan. He smirks at Suguru, "Hear that we are her new boyfriends and eventual baby daddies. I wonder if our cum mixes together in her does the dna-" Suguru chokes Satoru, who grabs your other thigh keeping it up, helping them bully your soft cunt with their cocks.

“I love you but shut up.” He pulls him in for a kiss. Your smaller body in between their large, hard muscular chest. You bite Suguru's thick pec as they make out over your head. He groans into Satoru's mouth.

Suguru's veins pulse warm thick cum spurts from his thick cock. He tightens his grasp on your thigh and you let his pec go. Satoru and Suguru break away, Suguru whines, biting his trembling body lip, his big muscular body quivering.

Suguru whines, "Fuck it's too much!" He goes to pull out when Satoru lets your thigh go. You wrap your leg around his waist. Satoru grabs a handful of Suguru's hair.

Satoru slips his hands between squeezing one of Suguru's tits along with pinching your nipple. "Don't pull out yet, wanna keep feeling rubbing our cocks together inside her soft warm soaking wet cunt." He looks down at your face, taking in your cock drunk expression as you rest your head on his chest.

"I can't believe you're our's to hold close, to fuck, to kiss, to say I fuckin' love you too." Satoru leans down for a soft kiss, contrasting his sloppy, rough pace. Suguru's legs are becoming wobbly, the pleasure becoming too much for him.

Suguru hunches over and bites your neck. Grabbing your hip, his thick fingers sinking into your soft hip's crease. He's trying to manage how good it feels to have your soft cunt squeezing him against Satoru's hard cock.

Suguru begs, "Fuck please cum Satoru." Satoru lets your sore nipple go, pulling Suguru in close crushing you with Suguru's chest.

He demands, "Wanna hear you both call me daddy."

"Please cum daddy!" Overlaps with,

"Wanna feel you cum daddy!" Satoru cum is thicker, tricking out of his cock when he's only half in you. He roughly stuff his cock in deeper, grinding his hips, rubbing his cockhead against your cervix. Pushing his cum in deeper with Suguru's.

"Happy birthday handsome." Suguru quickly bottoms out and stumbles over to the nearby bed where he collapses. Suguru stares up at the ceiling mirror, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

You slur, "Appybirrday!" Suguru dryly chuckles, sitting up slowly. Admiring your tired, tied up the body with Satoru's cock in your soft cunt.

He softly smiles. "Both of you are beautiful." He stands up as Satoru slowly pulls his cock out. Together they carefully untie you, softly scattering kisses on your thighs, stomach, tits, ass, and cunt.

Satoru cradles your soft body to his chest, he kisses your forehead. Suguru kisses your cheek, "Let's get clean and fall asleep cuddling. I want her soft cheeks on my cock while I fall asleep." Suguru dips his thick fingers into your soft cunt scooping out a mix of cum which he stuffs into Satoru’s mouth.

He groans “Fuck that tastes so good.” Following Suguru to the bedroom. Where Suguru gets the shower started and Satoru sets you down on the toilet to use it.

When you try to stand your legs quickly give before you can even fully make get on your feet. Satoru grabs his hips, and croons, "Aw can't walk princess?" He bends over, holding his finger up next to his face. "Whose help do you need?" He softly taps the tip of your nose.

"Please carry me around and help me get cleaned up."

Satoru wiggles his finger, "No I wanna hear you say we are yours again." Suguru nudges him to the side and picks you up.

He insists to Satoru, "Stop holding her hostage." He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. Following Suguru and You into the large shower. Where Suguru holds you to him underneath the warm shower.

Satoru wraps his arm around both of you. He whines, "You're no fun! I just wanna tease our princess a little."

Oreo’s m.list

[buckyalpine]

Pick Me

Bucky x reader 

The new recruit has her eyes set of a certain set of super soldiers. Especially your super soldier. 

warnings: jealously, Angsty bangsty, but also so fluffy fluffy and smutty, clueless Bucky, he really means no harm, go easy on him.

A/n - editing to add: when I first started writing this I loved the concept and wrote a large chunk but then I left it for months cause I struggled to actually finish writing it. This wasn’t even the original ending I had planned but I just wanted to finish it so yes Bucky should’ve done way more, pretend there was a time jump where he does a better job with earning forgiveness 🥲

-

“Everyone, meet Nicole, our newest recruit for the field agent training program” Tony walked into the common room where you were sprawled out on the couch with Nat, Sam and Wanda while a young woman walking confidently behind him. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of months to train before she goes onto the the field” Tony turned back to her, bringing her to his side. 

“I’m sure you know everyone but let me introduce you to them anyway. This is the very Natasha, Wanda, Sam and y/n” 

“Hey Nicole” You gave her a warm smile, happy to welcome her while everyone else also got up to greet her. “Nice to meet you” 

“Oh, ew, just call me Nic! I don’t really go by Nicole” She scrunched her face at the sound of her full name, her eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. “Don’t suppose the very Captain America and Sergeant Barnes are here?” 

The hopeful uptick in her voice made it clear that’s who she’d been searching for. Right on cue, the two super soldiers walked into the living room on their way to the kitchen after a morning run. 

“Speak of the devils and I do mean devils” Tony snorted beckoning the men to meet the new recruit. “Rogers, Barnes, this is Nicole, preferably Nic” 

“Hello handsome” She gave Bucky a bashful smile before turning to Steve and batting her lashes, “and handsome” 

“Nice to meet you” Steve reddened at the way she gripped onto his hand before slinking over to the brunette, purposely sticking out her left hand so he’d shake with his metal one. “And you Sergeant” 

Bucky gave her a smile and quick shake, excusing himself to get some water while Steve quickly trailed behind him. Tony went on to take her to her room which was on the same floor as yours, all the other spare rooms occupied by a few others who had already started training. Nicole returned to the living room moments later with sweats and a hoodie, her hair tied up, plopping down onto the sofa beside Sam. 

“Hey, were doing a girls night, movies, junk food, wine, you wanna join us?” Nat offered with a smile hoping to make the new recruit feel more welcome even though a part of her was wary. 

“It’s a lot of fun, I was just about to get some snacks for tonight, let me know what you like” You add with a smile, only to be met with a scoff.

“Mmm, hard pass on that, wine isn’t really my thing, thanks though” She gave the group a tight lipped smile before turning back to the two super soldiers who had also joined at some point, scrolling through phones they finally knew how to use. 

“What are you boys up to tonight” She threw them a smile while laying back on the couch and kicking her feet up, letting her hoodie ride up in the process. 

“Bucky and I were actually just going get in a work out, nothing much tonight” He said with a smile, not noticing the way Nicole’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh wow I actually haven’t been by the gym yet but I guess it’ll be where I spend most of my time for the program” 

“You could join us if you’d like, we can show you around” Bucky offered, also missing the smirk that crossed her face, only seeing her bounce right up with an enthusiastic nod. 

“Really? That would be great, I’d really appreciate it!” 

“Of course, anytime. We’re just about to head down soon” Bucky stretched as he got up, along with Steve, waiting for her to change before heading down. She got up and went off to her room while you picked at the skin on your fingers. You felt a pang of something at the pit of your stomach at Bucky’s offer but you knew he was just trying to make the girl feel like she was part of the team. He knew more about feeling left out than anyone else; of course he’d never want anyone else to feel the same way. 

Still.

Something was off.

You shook off the inkling of insecurity you felt, not wanting to over think his intentions. You and Bucky were not official yet but everyone knew there was tension and a clear unspoken dynamic between you both. It was just a matter of time. Unless he had his sights on the new girl...

No.

He wouldn’t do that. 

Right?

*****

“She’s getting really comfortable around those two” Nat cocked an eyebrow watching Nicole have a field day sparring with the two men, throwing herself onto Bucky in particular, giggling when he’d help correct her stance or catch her before she slipped. Every since she joined them at the gym, she made a point to only work out when they were both there, finding excuses when anyone else would offer to help her train. 

“I guess they are really experienced, so it makes sense...” Your voice trailed off, trying to reason why she was practically glued to their side, again ignoring the uneasiness you felt when Bucky picked her up with ease and set her back on her feet. 

“Uh-huh, we’re all experienced” Nat rolled her eyes, plastering on a fake smile when the three finished up on the sparring mat, making their way over to the both you. “You three have a good workout?” 

Steve blinked, noting the iciness In Nat’s voice though Nicole seemed unbothered. 

“They’re great, can’t beat having the two best soldiers train me” She drawled out, giving them a wink. Bucky couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks, not used to being praised and you couldn’t help the jealously that started to gnaw at you again. 

No.

Relax. 

“Anytime, Nic” He shrugged while Nat retched internally, deciding to cut through that conversation before it went further. 

“You know, if you come by in the afternoons, Agent Hill hosts a great self-defense workshop for women, great way for you to do some networking as well” Nat gauged the way Nicole’s nose scrunched, shaking her head. 

“Women’s workshop, sound’s like a drama fest waiting to happen, honestly most of my friends are guys, makes life easier, thanks though” her eyes didn’t leave the brunette, placing herself perfectly between both soldiers. “Besides, I’m pretty good with self-defense already, that's why I got these two helping me with a little extra” 

“Anyway! Y/n and I were talking about the event Stark is hosting later night. You’re both coming, right?” Nat looked at the two men before her, purposely avoiding the Nicole but it didn’t seem to matter. 

“Are you coming as well?” Bucky asked her, her eyes lighting up again, quickly recomposing herself after. “You could meet a few of the other agents too, get to know some more people” 

“Uh sure, I could come by for a bit” She shrugged, coming off as indifferent while shaking with excitement on the inside. “Thanks, Sarge” 

You sucked in a breath at the name she kept calling him, always dropping a suggestive tone in her voice. Or maybe you were over thinking it. It was perfectly plausible she was just being nice to the person who was making an effort to make her feel welcomed. Maybe she had bad experiences in other places that made her wary of women, hence why she only stuck to all the guys on the team. You tried to wrack you brain for answers that would make you feel a little better but came up short. 

But you didn’t want to be petty. 

You were more mature than this. 

“We have plenty of dresses if you want to come by and get ready together” You offered again, mustering a smile, making a final attempt to befriend the new recruit but she didn’t even look your way, fully focused on the brunette. 

“Uh- not really the dresses and heels type. I’m more of a sneakers girl to be honest” She tossed her pony tail over her shoulder, missing the way Nat’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head while you nodded, watching her sway her hips as she walked off. “I’ll drag myself over if I’m feeling it” 

“Oh-okay, then we’ll just see you there!” You called after her while Nat dragged you off, uninterested in your constant attempts to be friendly. 

“C’mon, lets get you ready. I’m going to make you look so hot, Barnes ends up on his knees” The red head smirked while you squeaked, feeling your face heat up.  “We’re putting you in that red dress, the one that makes his pants feel too tight, don’t think I didn’t catch him adjusting himself the last time you wore it”

“Nat!” You hissed, hoping he didn’t hear, the both of you in a fit of giggles as you made your way to your room. “Oh my god” you hid your face while she dug through your closet, pulling out the tiny dress that hugged your body perfectly, the red color making you stand out in the best way possible. 

“Go shower while I get all the make up out, I’m tired of miss pick me trying to get a buy one get one free deal with those two” 

You snorted, hopping into the shower, letting the hot water destress your muscles, feeling a little more hopeful with the dress choice you were going with. Nat didn’t waste any time; as soon as you were out, your hair was styled, make up done and heels strapped. You knew you looked good when both Sam and Tony did a double take, letting their eyes shamelessly linger on you with low whistles. 

“Y’know if you’re done playing games with terminator, I’d be happy to take his place” Tony wiggled his eyebrows while you giggled, taking a seat on the plush couch of the lounge where everyone else sat. 

“What are you ladies drinking” Steve came over with a tray of drinks from the bar, already well aware of what each person liked to typically order. 

“I’m good with a beer” Nicole shrugged, rolling her eyes when you took the pink drink from the tray, “Ugh, I don’t know how you drink those, they’re so sweet, do you even taste anything at that point?”

You shrugged, quietly taking a sip of the raspberry lemonade while she gulped her beer, signaling for another after slamming her bottle down. 

“You guys took forever to get ready, this is why I can’t deal with makeup and dresses n’shit” she snorted, directing her comment mostly at you, “That’s a pretty bright color, I thought tonight was supposed to be lowkey?” 

“Well I think you ladies look beautiful” Thor boomed, not catching the snark in Nicole's voice, his smile wide and voice completely sincere. “Especially you, Lady y/n” 

“Thank you Thunder” You smiled, though the giddiness you felt initially had taken a second hit for the night. He beamed, setting down a bottle of Asgardian mead, searching for the two soldiers.  

“Alright, where are the two that need this” He looked around for Steve and Bucky, since they couldn’t get drunk off of regular alcohol. Bucky strode in clearly dressed to kill, in all black from head to toe. Steve joined his side, their faces lit up like it was Christmas day seeing the crystal decanter in the God’s hands. Bucky’s eyes flicked back to you, his breath hitching in his throat, seeing you in his favorite dress. 

“Fuck sweets, you look- 

“C’mon Sarge, how about a little competition” Nicole nudged Bucky, cutting off the trance he had on you, her shoulder pressing into his, biting her lip and eyeing the alcohol, “Let’s see how many shots we can do” 

“This might be a lot to handle doll” Bucky chuckled while you froze hearing what he called her. Her eyes lit up again, quickly glancing over to you, her eye brow quirking before leaning into him more. 

Since when did he call anyone else doll. 

You felt your stomach sink, taking another long sip of your drink instead, but nothing distracted you from the banter that was taking place before you. 

“Ugh, finee, I’ll stick to regular vodka, c’mon Buckyyy, lets gooo!” She practically clung off him waiting for him to pour shots, inches away from crawling into his lap as he grabbed the bottles. You couldn’t tell if the flush from his cheeks was from the alcohol or the constant giggles Nicole made whenever he spoke but either way, you didn’t want to watch any longer. 

“Where are you going” Nat grabbed your arm as you got up to leave, though you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand. Her green eyes glared at the tipsy solders who were now busy with a game of pool, surrounded by the rest of the team, Nicole practically crawling up Bucky’s legs each time it was his turn. “For fucks sake-

“They’re just having fun, don’t worry about it”  You stopped Nat before she stormed over, shaking your head. As much as you wanted to red head to have her way with any of the three at this point, you couldn't be bothered. You were not about to fight for Bucky’s attention; if he wanted to give it to you, he would...

Right? 

You thought things would go back to normal at some point. But it didn’t. Nicole made a point of training twice a day, anything to get her hands on the brunette. Anything to feel the cool metal of his hand on her. In fact she’d taken up most of Bucky’s time outside of just training, always finding ways to tag along with Steve as well, all while avoiding the rest of the team.

*****

“What's wrong sweets” Bucky could tell something was on your mind while he stroked your back, his body still warm from the way he took you apart at least 3 times before filling you up till you were dripping and soaking his sheets. He had finally gotten an afternoon off, tossing you over his shoulder when he found you in the kitchen, not letting you get a word in as he shut the door behind him. You wanted to argue back that he couldn’t just have access to you any time he felt like according to his convenience, but as soon as his soft lips were on you, you melted, turning into a moaning mess seconds later. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages” You shrugged, toying with the corner of Bucky’s blanket, starting to feel more like you were just a body to warm his bed than someone he actually wanted to be with. “We haven’t really hung out recently” 

You had let yourself relax into his hold only for him to curse under his breath a second later after he noticed the time. He shifted you off him, making his way over to the closet to pull over his jeans and Henley before scrambling around for his wallet and keys. 

“Bucky, what are you-

“Sorry doll, I forgot I promised to take Nicole to the corner diner, showing her around a little bit cause she’ll be staying for a few extra weeks”

Fantastic.

“You spend a lot of time with her” You didn’t want to come off as jealous, keeping your voice even, though you were close to tearing someone's head off. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, humming in agreement while sitting at the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.  

“Yeah, she’s fun!” Bucky said casually, which only made the weight in your stomach feel heavier. “She almost beat Steve in MarioKart, just when he thought he was unstoppable”

“Hm” You didn’t bother saying anything else while Bucky threw on his jacket, patting down himself to be sure he didn’t miss anything. He caught the way your face had fallen, his cool metal fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your face up. 

“How about we hang out after? Around 7, we’ll watch a movie together, okay? I’ll grab dinner for us. Promise doll” He kissed your forehead before jogging off, closing the door behind him.

You were ready by 6, too excited to wait till 7, having showered and changed into something comfy, laying out Bucky’s favorite snacks and adding a few more soft pillows to the bed. You knew it was still early so you didn’t mind lounging around for a bit, anxiously checking the time as it neared closer and closer to when he was supposed to show up. 

An hour later, it was 7. 

Then 7:30. 

And then 8.

By 9, you had left everything as is, blinking back the hot tears that wanted to spill, retreating back to your own room, not wanting to see him at all, even if he did have a good excuse for not showing up, which was highly unlikely. You shut the door, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and crawling into bed, burying yourself under the covers, no longer bothering to hold back the tears that began to soak your pillow. 

****

Bucky cocked his head curiously, seeing his bedroom door left ajar, wondering why it was open when he definitely closed it before leaving. As soon as he stepped in, his heart dropped to his stomach seeing the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, his favorite snacks piled on the fluffy blanket, your fuzzy bunny slippers left behind beside his bed. 

He cursed under his breath when he realized the time, remembering his promise to you, running straight to your room, only to find it closed with the lights turned off. He tried knocking only to be met with silence, carefully turning the handle and letting himself inside. 

“Doll?” He felt his heart break further seeing the small lump under a mountain of blankets, curled up into a ball “Oh, doll” He strode over, sitting at the edge of your bed, careful not to wake you if you were asleep, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair from your face. 

“What” Your voice cracked, hoping he’d think its from sleep and not the fact that you had been crying. 

“I’m so sorry sweets, we lost track of time, we went out to grab food and then Sam suggested we check out that new arcade just down the street” 

We were supposed to do that you thought to yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you. 

“And then Steve and Sam had to leave half way cause they had a mission early in the morning. Nicole wanted ice cream so we went by Carla’s before coming back-

“You took her to Carla's?” You cut Bucky off, your heart breaking further. That particular ice-cream shop always felt like something special you shared with Bucky, the place he took you to when neither of you could sleep. It was the place you shared your first kiss with him, the place where he said he felt something between the two of you. It’s not like you owned the store but it felt like the final straw, your resolve finally breaking. 

“Yeah, I-

“Just go Bucky” There wasn’t a hint of iciness in your voice; just disappointment and defeat, both far worse than you being angry. Bucky froze, pulling your blanket away from you, only for you to push his hand away, burying yourself further into the sheets. 

“Doll?”

“Don’t call me that” It was the indifference in your voice that left him hurt and confused, mouth opening and closing, “Please leave” 

“Sweets, I can make it up to you, I promise-” 

“It’s fine James” You shrugged, pulling the sheets higher up, not willing to speak anymore, knowing you’d burst into tears again if you did. Bucky reluctantly decided to let you sleep, figuring you’d hear him out the next day but no.

How wrong he was. 

You avoided him in the morning. 

And the day after that. 

Nearly a week had gone by and you didn’t spare him a second glance, always finding an excuse to evade him whenever he trailed behind you. It didn’t help that Nicole attempted to stay glued to his side, not giving him chance to get you alone. 

*****

“What’s with you” Sam watched Bucky slump down onto the sofa, where everyone else lounged around, his face sullen from a lack of sleep, grumpiness amplified because why were you avoiding him so much? 

“Y/n isn’t talking to me” He shrugged, while Nat glared at him. 

“I wonder why” the red head mumbled, rolling her eyes at his confusion. 

“When was the last time you guys spoke” Steve inquired, equally concerned about why you were ignoring his best friend. Bucky was the last person to share stories about his love life but at this point he was desperate. He recalled the events of the last time he spoke to you, promising a movie night, going out with Nicole, taking her for ice cream, running late, apologizing to you afterwards, where did he go wrong? 

“I didn’t mean to forget- 

“Bucky!” Nat slapped him upside the head while he yelped, looking at her with puppy eyes. 

“What did I do?”

“Barnes, you absolute doorknob, you took her to all the spots you take y/n to, you’ve been spending all your time making little miss I’m one of the guys feel comfortable, you’ve made y/n seem invisible and you’re wondering why she’s not talking to you?” Bucky blinked while Nat continued, her annoyance only growing when she saw a message from Nicole pop up on Bucky’s phone. 

“You treat Nicole like your girlfriend. Imagine some new guy joins us, makes a point of eye fucking y/n the entire time, finding ways to constantly flirt with her and touch her, you’d be fine with it? Imagine he avoids hanging out with the guys but makes all the time in the world to chase after anything with breasts. On top of that, how would you feel if y/n went out of her way to make said guy feel more welcomed when he clearly just wants to get into her pants. You’d be fine with it?!”

Bucky shook his head, though still not fully understanding because Nicole was just a friend, not someone he’d even be into. Plus, its not like she was into him like that, right? 

“But Nicole doesn’t want to-” Bucky started, shutting his mouth when Nat nearly hissed, staring at him while he did the mental math, “Nicole wants to get into my pants?” Bucky looked at Nat wide eyes, ducking the cushion she was about to whack at his face, all the pieces finally clicking together. He groaned, running a hand over his face, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Just as Sam and Steve were about to hum in agreement with Nat, she glared at them, their eyes growing wide.

“And you” Nat turned to glare at Steve, his shoulders slumping when he realized he wasn’t in the clear. He squeaked when Nat pulled his ear, giving it a squeeze, “What were you thinking. You didn’t once think it was weird she only trained with you two? Haven’t any of you noticed Nicole doesn’t hang out with any of us, Just you?” Nat waved her hand at the men that sat before her, their dumb stuck faces only adding to her annoyance. “Idiots” 

As much as Bucky wanted to hit his head onto a brick wall, he didn’t have time to waste, immediately springing up from the couch to look for you. He checked everywhere he could but you were nowhere to be found. He was so desperate, he found himself shuffling outside of Tony’s lab, hoping FRIDAY would give him your location. 

“You’re asking for a lot Barnes, y/n might add my name to the hit list if I tell you where she is” 

“Please” Bucky was ready to beg on his knees while the billionaire huffed, watching the former assassin look like a lovesick puppy. He cocked an eyebrow, noting the glassiness of Bucky’s eyes on his desperate face, nodding before calling for FRIDAY to look for you. “Also, I need another favor...” 

****

“Y/n, babygirl” He’d never felt such relief before, seeing you make your way to your room, coming back from your hiding spot from the roof, the scowl on your face clearly showing you weren’t trying to talk to anyone one your way over. 

“Oh, I’m babygirl now? Has doll now been reserved for Nicole” You couldn’t hold back the sneer in your voice, walking away faster, ignoring his calls. 

“Baby, please!”

No. 

“Baby, wait!” Bucky chased after you, not willing to let another day go by without you knowing exactly how he felt. He managed to get hold of your hand, gently tugging you towards his chest and spinning you till your back was against the wall, his chest nearly pressed to you. “Please, I-I need to talk to you, tell you how I feel” 

“There’s nothing to talk about”

“Yes there is” His voice was earnest, baby blues searching your downcast eyes, his finger tilting your chin up to look at him, “There’s so much to talk about, I adore you” 

“Do you also adore Nic?” You scoffed, while Bucky’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment, the pink spreading up to his ears.

“There’s no Nic or Nicole, theres just a y/n, my y/n, only you doll” You rolled your eyes at his response, trying to move away but Bucky wasn’t having any of it, keeping you pressed against him, “I’m sorry darling, I didn’t realize what she was doing or get her intentions. I thought she just wanted to get to know the team better”

“Wow” you huffed under your breath, wishing you had the space to flick the super soldiers forehead. 

“I know, I’m an idiot, and I’m an even bigger idiot for not making it clear I’m so utterly and desperately in love with you” Bucky bit his lip as soon as the words left his mouth, he’d said everything under the sun except those words before. But they were true and he’d kept it inside long enough. “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you”

You squeaked in surprise when he scooped you up in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder, walking over to his bedroom, smiling when he felt your small fists hitting his back, your butt wiggling to be put back down. 

“Barnes, put me down, you can’t just say you love me and then carry me away like a complete ogre!” He set you down, kicking the door shut behind him before wrapping his arms around you tightly again, falling more in love with your irritated pouty face. 

“I love you sweet girl. God, I’m so in love with you”

“You’re an absolute idiot”

“An idiot who is in love” 

“You’re so cheesy” You willed yourself not to smile, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered at his words and love struck eyes. “you’re still a dick”

“I know. M’sorry angel, I didn’t realize what I was doing, I never wanted to hurt you. I should’ve known something was up when all she wanted to do was train 24/7 but I guess I misunderstood her intentions cause I didn’t see her as anything else. I’ve only ever had eyes for you baby, you have my heart. You always will” 

“Where is she right now anyway?” You melted into his chest, closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Isn’t she supposed to be leaving soon?” Bucky didn’t respond, his hands starting to wander your body instead, slipping up your shirt, rubbing soft circles on your hips. Without warning, he picked you up again, tossing you on the bed and pouncing on you, peppering your face with kisses. 

“Bucky what are you doing” You giggled feeling his beard tickle your skin as he started to trail kisses down your neck. 

“I may have requested Tony to have her stay an extra night” Your face twisted in confusion at his words but the devious look on his face made your tummy flutter. 

“And he happily agreed because...”

“Because...?”

“I want her to hear how good I can make the girl I picked feel” Bucky smirked as he crawled off you, stripping his clothes off before tearing yours off immeitedly after. “M’not gonna waste another second, gotta let the whole compound know who my best girl is” 

****

“OH G-GOD J-JAMES FUUCCCKKK” 

“That’s it pretty princess, that’s it, cum on my dick baby, my good girl, fuck you’re so good to me, look at that, God you’re soaked baby”

“Jesus Christ” Nicole huffed, no longer able to ignore the moans coming from Bucky’s room while the rest of the team pretended to be none the wiser, your loud love making carrying all the way down the hall. Bucky happily disabled the sound proofing in his room before pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, railing you into the mattress. 

“Baby you look so pretty when you’re all stretched out like this, c’mon you can take more, spread those legs for me baby, open up, c’mon, lemme in” 

“HNG PleasepleasepleaseJames” 

“So perfect when you beg, cock’s all yours mama, m’all yours, go on and use me, that’s it, ride this dick, you own me” 

“Bucky, gonna-c-cum, gonna-cum!”

“Cum for me princess, God I love you” 

“You want a snack?”

“Nick?”

“Uh-Nicole?”

“Huh?” Nicole whipped her head around to where Steve was innocently holding out the bowl of popcorn, while Sam stood up to grab more snacks before the movie started. She stared at everyone surrounding her acting as if they couldn’t hear the way you were screaming your vocal chords raw, the super soldier moaning louder than you, “N-no, I’m fine”

Tony cocked an eyebrow at the way her jaw clenched, mindlessly scrolling through her phone while Bucky’s thrusts punctuated with each word. 

“Y’feel so. Damn. Good. baby, could spent my whole life like this making love to you” 

“Fuck, I love you James” 

“Ugh- they’re so loud” Nicole rolled her eyes again in hopes that someone would feel the same but all she got were blank stares back. 

“I mean, terminator is practically in love with her” Tony shrugged while the others nodded in agreement.

“They’re cute. It’s about time they made it official, don’t you think?” Nat asked sweetly staring directly at her while Steve tried to chime in as well, his cheeks burning hot pink between the sounds of skin slapping and moaning. 

“They sound so happy together” he stuttered out while Sam snorted, choking from laughter. 

“Oh God, oh god, fuck-Jamie-JAMIE” 

“Yup, real happy”

“I-I think I’m actually gonna call it at early night, stay at the recruiting center tonight instead” Nicole headed straight to the main doors without looking back, the rest of the team giving each other satisfied smirks. 

Bucky collapsed beside you, panting, his short locks clinging to his forehead, a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. He truthfully stopped caring about what Nicole could or couldn't hear half way through, meaning every single word he said as he took you apart over and over again. You giggled at his shy smile when he pulled you into his chest, pulling the sheets over you both, kissing your forehead. 

“I love you pretty girl. I love you so much” 

[feelingdozy]

SHUT UP AND DANCE - Robert Reynolds

Summary: When Val decides to set up a party for The New Avengers that they must attend, Bob finds himself stuck between his long lasting crush on you and his overwhelming doubt as the event swiftly sneaks up on him.

Warnings: oblivious Bob and reader, tooth-rotting fluff, friends to lovers, eventual romance, alluding to intimacy, fantasizing about each other, party setting, crowds, mention of anxiety

w/c: 3,3k | can be read as a standalone, smutty part 2 here

a/n: I got inspired while listening to old songs and one of them was this one and I just had to write something fluffy out for it and it reminded me so much of Bob

"you use this as your chance, swoop in, take her by the arm and ta-da! You got her heart" Yelena explained enthusiastically to Bob.

"That's-" he huffed, "it's not gonna work, Lena." Trying to deflect all possible reasoning it could be true.

"You got to believe me- or, better yet, you try! Bob!" She followed as the man started to retreat back to his room, hand twirling a rogue strand of hair that had fallen with his eager strides.

"it's like a damn teenage dream! I- I just don't think.. I'd just embarrass myself." He admitted while Yelena had caught up to join him at the front of his door, his fingers now absentmindedly toying with each other to distract him from the truth he tried so hard to not make adherent to himself as much as he already had.

Yelena sighed in turn, "Just you see Bob- tonight. Tonight will be the night." Before turning away, she grabbed both his hands and squeezed in silent reassurance.

"just you see."

Tonight was the night that the team, well more like Val and happy agreements like Alexei had been in tune with, had wanted to do a celebration of sorts for the commemoration of the new title, The New Avengers.

There were frowns and hidden pouts among the crowd when she had first briefed them on the whole idea, something to draw the media and gain a crowd, good social media credibility!

Except Bob's eyes, and mind, and pretty much everything else was faced towards you. At first you had been quite open to the idea but.. as she progressed it became less and less about the team and more and more about the people it drew in with the live attraction as you guys as the zoo animals.

He agreed in retrospect, but having a moment to be able to see you in a dress was a silent prayer answered by the unfortunate Val gods. So the man stayed quiet in the corner and let the rest of the team discuss the precautions and different levels of motion involved for this to work and for them to agree to it.

Hosted on a floor of the avengers tower meant not much travelling nor effort into going somewhere new and strenuous setup, but moreso that their privacy might be even more up for grabs than before.

After the meeting had been adjourned, Bob had followed your path to the couch, making yourself comfortable while putting your head in your hands. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

The boy noticed absolutely everything. The way you fiddled with the hem of your shirt when nervous, retreated to your room when flushed and embarrassed, mouthed the words of others when subtly wanting to join in on a conversation.

You had striked him as interesting in all sorts of ways that didn't end and instead grew as a whole, eventually bundled up to hard-kept and secret feelings that Yelena had eventually seen bubble to the surface.

She had found it in the gentle touches he unconsciously had given to you. His fingertips lingering after graciously taking the remote from your hand to scavenge for a movie on the nights the team rotated staying up and watching dramatic romcoms or stupid action movies while stuffing popcorn down their throat.

The way you leaned into him after a heavier mission, one that had you with more bruises and cuts that left a good mark and took a week to heal, and how he held you with nothing but eyes that looked like you hung the stars for him.

How he had always found you a souvenir while out. A random thrift or second hand store and saw a trinket that reminded him of you- a cat made into a key holder that had stayed on one of your dressers since he had brought it back to its rightful place with you.

She knew Bob was lovesick- but also painfully oblivious. She knew the look on your face that wondered exaclty what his touches meant to the two of you, but kept to an unsteady silence that he took as peace. And although it was, it always made you wonder.

To keep that peace exactly where it was, you'd have rather not done anything to test the boundaries in case you were painfully wrong. Mistakenly ending your friendship with Bob was the last thing you wanted.

As the day had slowly come to night, the bustling had started. People crowded in different places with many different orders as Val stood out among the rest with her colored strip of hair and over the top dress that she had chosen for the night, unafraid of the looks she got from others when people had been told to keep it casual. Mel by her side, cautiously trying to keep up with everything going on around her, demands, yelling, words that blended in with the sudden growing amounts of people.

Bob found himself struggling to find his suit he had misplaced somewhere in the depths of his closet. He knew for a fact it was buried deep, as he thought he'd never have to wear it, as he'd decline the offer to go to these kinds of things- though he knows he wouldn't be able to decline it at all.

As he pulled it out from the jumbled mess of clothes now all over his floor, he jumped when he heard a knock at his door. Double-taking while holding it in his hand deciding whether or not he wanted to show it off yet. Taking too long to decide, he kept it closely in his hand to his torso. Opening the door, he least expected to find you staring back at him.

"y/n! Hey- what uh, you doing here?" He laughed almost awkwardly, caught off guard and scanning your figure, noticing your already done up hair but normal pj's that he'd seen you wear around the compound before.

"sorry I- didn't mean to interrupt you" you started with a sigh, "Lena was supposed to help me get into this dress and now, she won't answer her damn calls and I can't find her anywhere."

As you complained, a glint in his eyes had come forward. Damn Yelena had started setting him up before the party had even begun.

"are you able to lend a bit of your time? If not I totally understand-"

"yes!" Too fast, too swiftly. "I-i mean yes of course, not busy at all no, no."

He gestured for you to come in by opening his door wider, now seeing a dress that was held behind your back the entire time, too focused on looking at how your shirt hung nicely off your shoulder revealing the skin underneath, and the way your hair had been styled to notice

"you alright if I'm changing in here?" At the realization of exactly what you were asking of him finally landing, the tips of his ears had lit up within seconds and he was milliseconds away from completely combusting.

"yeah! Bathroom.." he went to point to it, but instead turned around to find you shimmying out of your pjs down to your bra and underwear, unbothered and relaxed in his presence.

Both honored and scared truly out of his mind, he whipped his head back around so hard he thought he might've given himself whiplash at the absolute vision in front of him. Was he getting a fucking boner?

"Bob- Bob a little help with the zipper please? You called out kindly, jolting him back to reality. With a swat and pull of his lazily sat sweatpants, he walked over mumbling multiple quiet sorry's.

His fingers had gently put their weight in caressing the dress where the zipper had originated, making you bite your lip down both at the fleeting touches and sudden closeness that felt so intimate, but like nothing at the same time. That was a lie. Charged- tension. Passionate. But none of you said a word.

He carried a different type of weight with just how he desired to feel you, god he had ideas in his head he definitely shouldn't share out loud, nor to anyone in that case. Your mind wasn't exactly safe from the thought either, both too caught up in the moment that held so much- yet not enough to confess. Too scared, too anxious, not wanting to ruin something so darn good.

He fantasized- so much so that his lips were dangerously close to pressing themselves to the curve of open skin deliciously sticking out where the zipper hadn't reached to cover you, so tempting that it had put him in a trance. You looked so soft- delectable, so damn beautiful, otherworldly distracting. He wanted to worship you-

"you got it, Bob?" You swore you could feel his breath fanning you.

"y-yeah got it." He replied, trying to act cool while he had zipped it completely like he wasn't imagining taking it off of you.

Returning back to his original spot further away from you, he still hadn't put on his suit. Scurrying to the bathroom with many excuse me's, he had come out almost a different sight.

You held a whine as a long sigh, catching it luckily down deep in your throat before it had a chance to reveal itself. His hair was slicked nicely to where the ends were still visible all the way down to bottom length, protruding to frame his neck, his suit clinging to all the right places as it had made friends with the muscles on his back as he combed the stray hairs out of place, and almost traced his hidden abs for you to view beneath his white, almost translucent teasing undershirt.

Nothing to the damn imagination. You hoped you weren't drooling.

"Do you mind helping me with the buttons?" He'd asked while trying to push one through.

"Of course- I got you."

With a smile that held back many, many thoughts, you had buttoned him up starting from bottom to top, his eyes never once leaving your hands and their magical way of doing him up so nicely.

"here, gimme your tie" you playfully demanded with a gesture of your hand.

He handed it to you without question, having no trouble swinging it around his neck and bringing your hands to drag down to the middle of his chest. God was he holding back his facial expressions like a mad man.

When finished, you patted his chest and had a giddy smile at your work.

"done! Whaddya think of my work handsome?"

Handsome. "Thank you, hahah wow you're quick." coming out rushed and half in the moment, half in his head about what the hell he had just experienced and felt.

"I'll see you at the party?" you questioned as you walked towards his door.

"Yeah!" He exclaimed before giving you a fond nod, finding yourself making your way downstairs.

Bob tied his tie a little tighter and loosened his pants quite a bit.

blaring lights and blasted speakers are the first thing that Bob is made apparent to, even just a hall away from the actual hosting place. Delicately dimmed and fancy tones in every corner line the walls with gold-like ribbons accompanied by wild colors like pinks and blues, and fancy carved features that come with the building. Signs dedicated to pointing out the right of way catch his eye as he continues, nerves only racking higher as he begins to catch the surface of lively and clustered groups dancing or fetching their seat, a combination of romantic and high pace music in the background making for a welcoming atmosphere, the mood airy with the littlest hints of formal to attract the audience just right.

Bob immediately felt out of place. Singled out, heavy breathing and holding his hands tightly together as he continued through the doors to see where a bar was and a tiny music station that didn't make much of a difference as everybody knew they wouldn't be able to actually use it. Tables lined the sides of the dance floor prominently in the middle, and an actual kitchen sat off to the side of the huge room for access to normal drinks and snacks that they might've had to keep frozen until guests arrived.

His first instict was to look for the bright blonde of Yelena's hair, but now that seemed the hardest task with multicolored lights that never rested, instead took their time traveling around the event and lighting every area once inawhile with rotating colors. Distracted and now a little dizzy, he found himself a little lost- overwhelmed and really regretting the non-negotiable invitation.

Turning himself right, then left, he was desperately trying to find something, someone to be able to ground him- lead him through this mess of random social interaction that he did not want to participate in, in the least.

Letting himself get deeper into the masses of bodies, he had found himself closer to the dance floor and less in the big handlers of conversation and questions he always muttered an answer to, both out of uncertainty and anxiety. Mingling hands and grouped whispers along with stares of women who giggled while staring lustful daggers into his eyes was not the intimidating way he wanted to go out right now.

Many excuses me's later, he had finally caught a lead on Alexei's booming laugh that somehow had the power to echo just a bit off of the wide intricate walls that boxed him in with his now sweaty and nervous demeanor, getting up close enough to finally spot the blonde he'd been trying to navigate the entire time he'd been here.

"Yelena!" He tried, but ultimately came closer to the group that consisted of Yelena dancing with Ava, John off talking to a woman in a nice velvet sequined dress that showed a high slit of the leg, and a dangling shiny gold necklace that definitely spoke money in all sorts of ways he hadn't known. Trying to draw his eyes anywhere but there, he found you as the woman in hand with Alexei, laughing while nursing a fancy cup of who-knows-what in your hand.

God- Bob had started to cling to the sides of his suit at the sight of you, so happy and enjoying a moment, your face being embraced by one of the multicolored lights that framed you so perfectly, he had seen every expression of a laugh grace your face as your eyes had squeezed shut, presumably laughing hard at one of Alexei's jokes.

Blown away? Obsessed? Down bad? All those words described the look on Bob's face, stunned in place by your figure, and that damn dress that flowed off you beautifully- causing him whiplash of guilt and shame as he hadn't even heard Yelena approach him.

"Go" Bob physically jolted back at her sudden voice in his ear, turning to look at her now directly beside him.

"W-what?"

As she continued, you turned and your eyes met his from across the floor. "Go ask her to dance. Now, Bob."

"I- im gonna get a drink, now..kitchen" he stuttered out, scrambling the crowd he worked so hard to find you in yet ending up in the empty, not so bare kitchen. He checked the fridge for anything- food, maybe a non-alcoholic drink to stable him for now.

Finding fruit punch pre-made, he took it out, placing it on the counter before pouring himself a glass and putting it back in place. He tipped his head back, hitting the higher cabinet behind him while closing his eyes and taking deep breaths recounting what he had just been through. He was, frankly, a mess.

"You in here?" a voice appeared, causing him to come back from his silence to lock eyes once again with you.

A small, almost knowing smile present on your lips- in fact you did know exactly why he came to the quietest place he could find, away from all the music, dancing and people.

"Needed quiet?" you questioned anyways, to make sure.

nodding quietly, "Y-yeah."

You leaned on the counter beside him, putting your glass down with a clack and sighing out dramatically.

"Me too.. just- too much."

His lips quirked up at your confession as well, now staring at you. Your hair had dropped in front of your face while huffing, and before he had grasped what he was doing, Bob had tucked the straying piece of hair back to its place behind your ear.

Looking at his face above you, you slowly scanned his eyes, pupils dancing wildly and heart starting to race. And slowly- slowly, Bob had placed his hand on your cheek, leaned in, and kissed you.

Lightly, like you'd regret ever putting your lips to his, he had captured your breath. Returning his touch, you cupped his hand and deepened it, making his eyes widen and a groan slip from his throat from the sudden surge of you. Your taste, the softness of your lips against his, fuck the warmth of your tongue.

You tilted your head the slightest for him to slip in just a little deeper, finding your natural rhythm in it all as you felt his tongue explore the inside of your mouth like he yearned to remember every spot of it.

Both pulling back for a breath, yet still connected by a string of saliva, you both giggled with both adrenaline and disbelief.

"you, uh- taste just like candy-no.. fruity. Bob. were you drinking fruit punch?" he chuckled quietly,

"Maybe"

"at least invite me next time" you grinned cheekily

"fuck wouldnt dream of not.. god- was it-"

"It was amazing, Bob"

"good!- good. thank god." he muttered, before you intertwined your fingers with his, guiding him to the doorway of the kitchen.

"Would you-" you started, but not wanting to lose another moment between the two of you, he had suddenly brought your knuckles up to his mouth, pressing a kiss on each one before asking himself

"Ma'am, would you honor me with a dance on this fine night?" a little teasing and a hundred percent fueled by pure desire and selfishness, he had a playful smile etched on his face matching yours, before you walked up to him and grabbed his cheeks more harshly- in a good way- he would've never expected from you.

Pressing a deep peck to his lips, "Shut up and dance with me, Bob." deathly close to his ear as your hand splayed itself on his chest, a shiver running through him at the contact and your confident words directed to him, and only him.

Dragged to the dance floor, he took your lead, swaying and twirling you as you hummed and swung him back in return wildly. Slow music had come on suddenly, and his hands had found gentlemanly purpose on your waist, holding you close and protective, yet his heart was thumping loud.

"Now don't you dare look back" you commented as you slid him a sly grin, but noticed the way his eyes traveled across the room for ones staring back at him.

Cupping his cheek, he turned swiftly back to your attention, reassuring him, "just keep your eyes on me."

He nodded back, gently rocking with both your rhythm and the song that lulled him to proper form. Seeing him become shy all of a sudden, you asked,

"are you holding something back from me, Bob?" Teasingly.

"After this- can I uh.. take you on a date? Proper one at that, not this.. y'know" music attempting to drown him out, but the only thing you were focused on was him, and the way his hands ran up and down your sides, with a squeeze bordering on protectiveness and a charming claim that said you're mine.

"Of course Bob, always."

"and forever?" He added, unsure.

"always, forever, and so on."

He smiled, boyish and largely at that and replied,

"you're my destiny"

thank you for reading :) requests are open! || Marvel Masterlist

[bonkybuchananbarnes]

The Campaign 

Congressman!Bucky Barnes x personal assistant/PR!manager Reader

Synopsis: Hired as Barnes’ personal assistant and PR!manager, he was constantly pushing your buttons when it came to maintaining his public image and managing his day-to-day routines. But as much as he stresses you out, you find yourself falling head over heels over your boss.

Content warnings: fluffy and crack, small angst, swearing, mentions of smoke and drinking, a little steamy but not smutty, no use of y/n, you are so tired of his bs but he loves you, pining, boss x employee relationship, friends to lovers situation

a/n: this might be my favourite piece I have written for Bucky. I also tried to keep it gender-neutral. I also apologize if I get stuff wrong about how voting and congress works, I am not American lol. also i did not proof read this sorry!

word count: 5k (whew)

It was only 7:30 am and you could use a glass of Bourbon and a cigarette. 

You ought to just go radio silent one of these days. Clearly, you were not paid enough to be James Buchanan Barnes’ glorified babysitter. Everyday, there was something new going on with the former Winter Soldier and today was the worst one yet. An early morning call from Sam Wilson always meant bad news, but whatever he had to say gave you a raging migraine and it hasn’t reached 9 am yet.

‘You’re kidding me. What got released to the public?’ you screeched over the phone.

This is how you found yourself marching into your boss’s apartment with a bedhead you barely cared to fix, and a poorly done business causal outfit, with a hefty pile of files bound together with several manila binders under your arm. 

‘James, you open this door right now!’ you hollered, accompanying your anger with an booming knock on his door. 

An exasperated sigh was heard through the thin walls. You were soon met with a tired Bucky Barnes who was wearing nothing but grey sweatpants. ‘Y’know, it’s really unprofessional to address your boss by their first name.’

Shoving the mental image of his delectable half-naked figure in the back of your head, you shoved the man out of the way and stomped into his kitchen island. You were too mad to ogle your boss that you unfortunately found very attractive.

‘You got a Scotch? I could really use a glass right now.’ you murmured, grabbing the nearest glass and scattering the files onto his marbled counter.

Bucky checked his watch on his wrist. ‘The fuck do you need a glass of Scotch for? Sweetheart, it’s only 7:50am!’

You resorted to a cold glass of milk, since there was no liquor to be found. ‘Look at the files I dropped and you tell me, James.’ 

The super soldier shuffled his way toward the pile of paperwork. As he quickly scanned around, a growing smirk grew on his lips. Noticing this, you groaned, rubbing your fingers over the deepening crease on your brows.

‘Do you know what I woke up with, James? I woke up with Captain America panicking over the phone because someone decided to leak the information I worked so hard to bury!’ you fumed. Swirling your glass of milk like it was hard liquor, you gulped it down, trying to calm your steaming head.

Bucky’s vibranium, fingers grazed over the paper and picked it up. It read ‘POTENTIAL CONGRESSMAN JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ASSASSINATION OF JFK?’

He inquisitive tilted his head in confusion. ‘I thought everyone knew this?’

A nice smooth roll of tobacco sounded so good right now. 

‘Are you KIDDING me?! What part of ‘I worked so hard to bury the information’ don’t you understand?!’ you bellowed, startling the man in front of you. Slapping both of your palms on the marbled counter, Bucky could see you heaving and seething from anger.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips. He carefully made his way towards your side and wrapped you with a side hug. His fleshed fingers slowly rubbed your arms up and down in an attempt to soothe your anger. ‘Alright, alright. I guess I slipped up that one interview where I jokingly said ‘the president better watch his back.’ Someone probably took that to heart and found out that I might’ve assassinated JFK.’

You turned your head and squinted. ‘You need to learn how to keep your mouth shut.’

‘Maybe you can shut it for me, sweetheart.’ Bucky teased.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, fighting the growing blush on your cheeks. It was safe to say that your relationship with Bucky has gone past strictly business professional. The two of you grew close for the past year, and you felt that there was something more. But, for the sake of the job nature and your sanity, you couldn’t act upon it.

A gentle smack on his chest caused him to let go of you. ‘Alright you smooth talker. That might've worked during the 40s, but you’re asking to get smacked by women if you say that.’ 

‘But Sam taught me that last week.’ Bucky shrugged.

‘That’s it. I don’t care if he’s Captain America, I’m limiting his visitation hours with you, Mr. Barnes.’ you scoffed. Grabbing the glass that was sitting on the counter, you reached for the milk carton to pour another.

The super soldier gave you a knowing look. ‘Honestly? I’ll be glad if you did. He talks too much sometimes.’

A grin donned your features as you downed another glass of milk. ‘Didn’t expect you to agree to that. Go get dressed Barnes, I called for another press conference at 10am and you better explain yourself.’

‘Yes ma’am.’ he saluted. As he made his way to his room, he paused, and looked back at you. Pursing your lips in anticipation, you expected him to throw a snarky comment at you. And that’s exactly what he did.

‘Y’know, this information coming to the public isn’t that bad. I heard the Gen Z were into that kind of thing.’ Bucky teasingly quipped.

He was met with a flying salt shaker to his head.

✪✪✪

Your ‘Days Bucky doesn’t tarnish his public image’ counter reset to 0 two days later.

A few hours ago, Bucky appeared at a charity gala that was hosted by Stark Industries. It surprised you, knowing the history between his time as the Winter Soldier and him being responsible for the murder of Howard and Maria Stark. Alas, you learned a long time ago that politics was a messy, dirty game, and you were just a personal assistant to yet another political candidate.

Yet, Bucky wasn’t just another politician you assisted, he was basically a dashing 110-year-old dashing man who always found himself leaving a mess wherever he went.

And tonight was one of those nights. It was going so well during the gala, all he had to do was sit pretty and make mindless talk with the other important figures. You knew that he didn’t want to go in the first place, so you made a deal with him; if he went and did not make a commotion, you would treat him to your favourite Shawarma spot in New York. He complied, and was doing so well.

Until you found yourself catering to his wounds back in his apartment.

The super soldier grunted in pain as your fingers pressed antibiotics into his open scratch on his forehead. 

‘Hey, are you trying to hurt me more?’ he whined.

Paying no mind to his complaint, you continued to apply more, digging into the wound even further.

‘Jesus, sweetheart! At this point you’re hurting me more than trying to patch my wounds!’ Bucky moaned, wincing as you finally put a gauze on the wounded area. 

‘Yeah right.’ you finally shot back. ‘You have super soldier serum running through your veins Barnes. You’re a big boy, you can deal with it.’

Looking away from the man, you rummaged through the first aid kit on lap as you searched for more gauze. As your eyes raised up to face him again, Bucky gave you an apologetic stare, like a whimpering puppy.

‘Save it James.’ you huffed, continuing to patch the wound on his flesh arm. ‘You broke your promise, so you’re not getting Shawarma with me tonight.’

‘Aww, come on! I really didn’t mean to!’ he pouted. James Buchanan Barnes. Pouting at his personal assistant. If only the world could see that.

‘Oh really?’ your voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘You didn’t mean to uppercut John Walker in the face in a public event?’

‘Listen sweetheart, he started it!’

‘I find that hard to believe Barnes.’

Bucky pleaded to you with his sky blue eyes. ‘You have to believe me. There’s a reason why I did it.’

A sarcastic laugh escaped your lungs. ‘Do you really live to annoy and stress me out all the time James?’ You bit the medical tape, ripping a piece and placing it on top of the gauze that was placed on his arm.

Silence filled Bucky’s living room before he finally confessed. ‘I didn’t like the way he spoke about you.’

Your eyes widened with his revelation, and halted your actions. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you stared at the super soldier in disbelief. ‘What?’ 

Bucky pursed his lips before he continued. ‘I know, I know. He was taunting me. Walker came to me wanting to make small talk and I guess he was getting cocky and started to talk smack about you. Degrading you and your abilities. Called you names, diminished your accomplishments. I couldn’t stand there and let him do that to you sweetheart.’

It was like Bucky squeezed your heart with his mechanical arm. Blood started to rush towards your ears, with your neck heating up. Your boss cared enough to defend you, even when you were absent.

His eyes gazed down to your hands as he took it with his fleshed ones. ‘I know it seems that I make your life a hundred times harder. Always cleaning up my messes, always making sure that I can win my campaign. It’s the least I can do for you while you do so much for me.’

You continued to stare at him. His confession knocked your breath away. All this time he genuinely cared for you.

He looked up once more and gazed upon your eyes. ‘I’ll fix this myself sweetheart. Go get rest tonight.’

He quietly searched your eyes for some sort of answer, while you continued to sit in silence.

After what seemed an eternity, he was met with your answer.

‘Bucky, you absolute idiot.’ you whispered, with tears pricking your eyes. ‘Thank you. You’re a good friend.’

The word friend stung his heart, but it was for the best. Wanting to pursue a relationship beyond friendship would be selfish on his part. He always wanted to, since he harboured a little crush on you ever since you first entered his life. But Bucky knew, he should know, that he can’t have everything in life. It would be too selfish. After all, he didn’t deserve it.

‘Yeah.’ he croaked. ‘So, am I off the hook now? Can we get some shawarma?’

A shaky sigh escaped your lips. Resuming your task to patch him up, a small smile adorned your lips as you shook your head.

‘After this, change to something casual. By the way, you’re paying.’ you jested.

A low chuckle escaped Bucky’s lungs, and you laughed with him in response. Although you wished for something more, you were content with the way things were right now.

✪✪✪

Tonight was the big day. It was election day. The results of your hard work will determine if it was enough for Bucky to be elected as a congressman. After today, you could finally rest easy, and possibly continue working for him as an assistant to a congressman. After all, you found yourself attached to him after a year of working with him. 

However, as soon as you walked into his apartment, you wished that you worked for someone else.

‘Alright Barnes, are you ready to go? The car is waiting-’ your voice faded as your eyes landed on the frazzled super soldier.

His medium cut hair was a mess, with strands sticking up in every direction. His navy blue blazer was scattered on the floor. The white long sleeve dress shirt he wore was unbuttoned, unironed and stained with red sauce. However, the white wife beater he wore underneath was miraculously unstained. The notebook, which had the speech you wrote, was lying on the counter, smothered with pizza sauce. Most of all, his other arm was missing.

Bucky froze midway from biting a pizza slice as you barged in. His wide eyes stared at you in shock, with the pizza bending down and dripping onto his white garment. He looked down with his mouth hanging open once he realized that he messed up his outfit of the night.

Your feet felt like they were stuck on the ground as you stared at your boss incredulously.

‘James Buchanan Barnes, are you shitting me?! The election gala is in one hour!’ you scolded him. 

Slamming the front door shut, you angrily sauntered into the kitchen area, picking up his fallen blazer and draping it on your arm.

‘Hey sweetheart.’ Bucky said casually, continuing to munch on his pizza as he glazed over the notebook once more. You look stunning.’

‘Sweet talk isn’t going to get me less angry Barnes! I literally got that dress shirt last week, and you stained it!’ you fumed, walking to his side and grabbing the shirt by the collar, forcing him to shed it off of his body, leaving him with just his navy blue dress pants and wife beater. ‘Please don’t tell me this isn’t the only dress shirt you have!’

‘Well, can I wear my black one?’ he innocently asked, gobbling up the last piece into his mouth. Bucky looked at your form, and stepped back as he saw you vibrating with anger.

It was your turn to stare at Bucky Barnes. This man was supposed to be all ready to go for his campaign night. Instead, you were looking at the feared ex-assassin stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk in his apartment complex. If it wasn’t for the given circumstance, you would’ve laughed and snuck a photo of him.

You let out a loud groan in response, and dialed for a cleaner to expedite an urgent laundry order. Once you finished with the call, Bucky made his way towards you, and stuck out the notebook you made for him.

‘This speech is too long.’ he declared.

‘You had a week to learn it James. Not my fault you were procrastinating.’ Tilting your body to the side, you eyed the area where his vibranium arm should be. ‘Also, where is your arm?’

Bucky nervously pursed his lips shut as your eyes squinted at him. Thinking about where he could’ve placed it, your eyes wandered to the dishwasher behind, seeing it was running a cycle. Putting two and two together in your head, your eyes slowly glanced back at the man in front of you.

‘James-’

‘Listen sweetheart’ he started. His fleshed hand nervously rubbed against the back of his neck.

‘James Buchanan Barnes, did you put your fucking Wakandan-made vibranium arm in your dishwasher?!’ you sputtered in disbelief. 

‘Hear me out! I couldn’t put it in the washing machine, it would tumble around and break it! The dishwasher cleans it very well!’

‘So you casually put Wakandan tech that’s probably millions of dollars in a machine that’s meant for washing dishes?’ A growing headache was creeping up. Good thing you brought Tylenol.

‘I got it for free.’ he mumbled. 

Scoffing in disbelief, you raised your arms in frustration and stomped towards the front door. ‘Whatever! It feels like I’m arguing with a child. You’re a grown man for Pete’s sake!’

‘Technically, I’m 110 years old-’

‘Right. You’re the perfect age to be running for congress.’ you snarked back. It was Bucky's turn to stare at you incredulously. 

The man huffed with exhaustion. You had enough, you were going to leave him be and wait for him in the car. But before you could turn the doorknob, he spoke up. ‘Sweetheart, listen! I’m nervous as hell for tonight. Everything that I worked for, everything you worked for is happening right now, and I don’t want to fuck this up.’ 

Upon hearing his confession, your hand paused midway from grabbing the knob. A deep sigh left your lips while you looked down, before facing him once more. The worried expression in his beautiful bright blue eyes was enough for you to cave in.

Sighing once more, you gently smiled at him. ‘Oh, Bucky. What would you do without me?’ you breathed, walking towards him.

A breathy chuckle came out of his lips as you made your way in front of him. Gently fingers combed his greasy hair, and he glanced down at you, looking at you with unspoken endearment. ‘Not much, I’m afraid. You’re basically the glue holding me together.’

A mischievous glint shone in your irises. ‘I hope you’re not referring to me as your mother figure James.’

Bucky raised his eyebrows. Lowering his head towards your ear, he lightly blew air, causing you to shiver. ‘Oh sweetheart, you’re much much much more than a caretaker for me.’

His words caused a squeezing sensation in your abdomen. Refusing to fall for his lacy words as you had to keep a professional boundary between the two of you (which was blurring by the second), your palms gently pushed him off.

You had to draw the line between you and your boss. ‘Save your sultry words for the event tonight Barnes. Pretty sure there’s some beautiful women who’s willing to throw themselves at you.’ 

Bucky paused, and you saw a storm of emotions brewing in his expressive eyes before he answered. ‘I don’t need that-’ he started, before he cut you off.

‘Tick tock, Barnes! We have to get going here, you’re lucky that the laundromat is willing to do an express order for you!’ you blurted out, trying to extinguish the awkward atmosphere. ‘I’ll head there right now. In the meantime, get dressed, fix your hair, and for God’s sake James, get your fucking arm out of the dishwasher.’

Bucky licked his lips and huffed out of frustration. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he obeyed your command and silently cleaned up the kitchen area. He threw a knowing look towards you, as he watched your figure promptly leave his flat. 

The super soldier made a mental note that tonight was the night he was going to finally make a move, if he won the election.

On the other side of the door, your sweaty palm clenched the fabric of your dress that was covering your chest. Too close, it was too close. You wanted to keep this job, to keep being close to your friend and crush without compromising the ethicality of it. It hurt, but with the given situation, it was the best you could do. You were content with being with him, even if you were just the personal assistant-pr manager-and glorified babysitter of Bucky Barnes.

Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you slapped both your cheeks together, then made your way towards the elevator at the end of the hall.

You deserved a smooth glass of Bourbon tonight.

✪✪✪

He won.

He actually won. A little part of you didn’t believe it, but Bucky won a seat at the congress. The former Winter Soldier who probably assassinated a dozen American politicians and presidents, was now a politician himself. Now that you thought about it, it was ironic, but nevertheless the way American politics worked.

You were also sure that Gen Z voters were solely responsible for his win. After all, no one could resist a handsome and buff super soldier running for congress. It was like offering the best piece of candy to a child.

But now that your task was complete, you weren’t sure whether you would continue your job as his personal assistant and PR manager. With all things considered, you were the perfect person for the job. You knew his routine and schedule with the back of his hand. Sure, there were moments that caused you to rip your hair out from stress, but in the end, you genuinely enjoyed being by Bucky’s side.

With your cheek on your palm as it rested on the window of the car, you zoned out as your eyes followed the streetlights. You were so deep in thought that you failed to notice that Bucky was grazing his real hand over yours, which was resting on the leather seat. He glanced at you, with eyes wavering with concern.

‘You alright sweetheart?’ Bucky murmured, gently caressing your hand.

‘Hn? Yeah, just tired.’ you answered listlessly, still not noticing his touch.

The rest of the car ride back to his apartment complex was silent. Once the two of you made it inside, Bucky carefully closed the front door shut as you shrugged off your coat and plopped yourself on his couch. You stretched your neck back and looked up to the ceiling and sighed with exhaustion.

The super soldier let out a chuckle at this sight of you. He had never seen you this exhausted, and honestly found it cute.

‘Long day?’ he quipped, sitting beside you.

You felt the couch dip to your left. ‘Tell me about it.’ you sighed.

Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head to face your boss. Gazing softly into his eyes, you smiled. ‘Congratulation on your win Bucky. You deserved it.’

Bucky’s eyes crinkled with a smile. ‘It was all thanks to you sweetheart. Couldn’t have done it without you.’

The two of you laughed, then sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company.

You looked down at your lap and nervously rubbed your fingers. Pursing your lips, you gained the courage to let him know that you wanted to continue your work as his assistant. 

While you were lost in your head trying to figure out the words, Bucky was in his own personal debate. It was either tonight or never. He had to let you know how he felt.

After a lingering silence, you spoke up first.

‘James, I want-’

‘You’re fired.’ he said bluntly. 

The words faded from your lips, slowly reeling in the words he had said. Your eyes widened in shock, with the corner of your eyes prickling with tears.

‘Fired?’ you echoed back. ‘You’re firing me?’

Your worst fear came true. He didn’t want you anymore. You trembled with anxiety, taking in the sinking feeling that you weren’t needed anymore.

Realizing that his words were coming out wrong, Bucky tried to explain himself. ‘Wait! Sweetheart let me explain-!’

Rage filled your being as the usually endearing nickname rolled off his tongue. ‘You have the balls to call me sweetheart when you’re firing me?! After all I have done for you Barnes! The sleepless nights, the anxiety I endured for your stupid campaign! You’re just going to throw me aside now that you’ve won?! I can’t believe-’ you exploded as you got up from the couch and started pacing around the living room.

Bucky growled your name in frustration, causing your rambling to stop. Walking up to you, he placed a firm hold on your shoulders as he directed you to come face to face. His pupils wavered as you bore his eyes straight into yours, with tears starting to prick in the bottom of his eyelids.

‘I’m firing you because I’m in love with you.’ Bucky quietly professed.

A tidal wave of emotions washed over you upon hearing his words. The angry expression that you wore immediately melted into confusion, mixed with hope.

‘You’re firing me because you’re in love with me?’ you slowly drawled.

An exasperated airless chuckle left his lungs. ‘I know how stupid it sounds. God, sweetheart, you make me so stupid with love.’ A gently warm hand cupped your cheek carefully.

Bucky’s eyes stared into yours with a longing expression. ‘This past year, all you’ve done is take care of me. You fixed my fuck ups. Made sure I was well rested and prepared. I would be lying if I said I would’ve gone through this gruelling campaign without you. Because my love, you held me together, even when I wanted to fall apart.’

Your lips slowly parted, with your eyes glossy with tears. ‘Bucky-’ you muttered, before he cut you off.

Bucky rested his forehead into yours as he shut his eyes. You could feel his hot breath nervously wavering as he continued his confession. ‘Sweetheart, you took care of me this whole time, even when I didn’t deserve it. Now it’s my turn to take care of you, and the only way to do that is to fire you.’

His eyes opened once more, revealing his sky blue eyes that were now glossy. When you didn’t answer him back, he heaved a heavy sigh, his pupils wavering even more as he tried to look for your answer in your eyes.. ‘Please say something.’ he begged.

Finally convinced that you weren’t daydreaming, you gave Bucky an answer.

Leaning your head close to his, your lips gently grazed over his plush ones, sweetly pressing your lips on him. He slowly returned your kiss, lips parting slightly to capture his over your bottom lip. Your hands wandered to his blazer, grabbing the collar as you brought him close to your body. His vibranium arm cradled the back of your head, inhaling deeply as you parted your own lips to kiss him once more. 

Bucky tilted his head and partially opened his lips, urging you to open your mouth as he poked his tongue through, licking your teeth in the process. A low moan escaped his throat as he messily massaged his tongue against yours.

Maybe you did deserve this after dealing with his bullshit for a year.

However, while the two of you were busy inhaling one another, his pressing weight was causing you to lose your balance. Once you realized however, it was too late. You and Bucky broke the kiss as you tumbled onto the carpeted floor, with him falling on top of you.

‘Woah!’ you yelped, expecting your head to hit the ground. Your eyes squeezed shut, expecting an impact, but was met with Bucky’s warm hand cradling the back of your head, absorbing the fall.

He may have cushioned your fall, but his body landed on yours, knocking the wind from your lung in the process. Bucky’s chest rumbled with laughter as you squeaked in discomfort. ‘You’re heavy, James.’

‘Sorry.’ he hummed amusingly. The super soldier brought himself off of you, lifting his body inches away from yours as his elbows rested on your sides.

If you told your past self that a year from now, that your boss confessed to you the night he won his election campaign, they would’ve slapped you silly, telling you that you’re delusional. But here you were, gazing into his eyes lovingly while he stroked your head endearingly. 

‘So.’ you started.

‘So.’ he mimed back.

‘Now that I’m unemployed thanks to you, you’re going to help me find a new job.’

Bucky pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. ‘Already done and taken care of.’

Your eyebrow shot up. ‘What did you do now, James?’

A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. ‘I cashed in a favour from Sam. You’re going to be his PR manager now.’

Your face twisted into frustration. ‘Oh god. Working for him might be slightly worse than working for you.’

‘Excuse me!’ he scoffed out of offence. ‘Working with me is a pleasure!’

You sniffed in sarcasm as you pushed him off to sit up. Bucky took it as an opportunity to tackle you into the floor once more.

‘Bucky stop it!’ you shrieked as he poked his fingers to your sides.

‘Nope.’ he said, popping the ‘P’ on his tongue.

The super soldier found himself facing you once more, and peppered your face with kisses. His stubbled beard tickled you.

‘You know Bucky, there were several times where I wanted to quit working for you because you were unbearable.’ you joked as he continued to smother you.

‘Well,’ he started between kisses. ‘Now that I fired you and promoted you to my partner, you’re stuck with me. I’ll be taking care of you now.’

A bright smile appeared on your lips. Bucky took notice and mirrored the same smile as he dipped down to kiss your lips once more.

What was thought to be the most stressful night of your life ended up with you sprawled out on the floor with your ex-boss-turned boyfriend. 

Not that you could complain. For once in your life you were glad that you got fired from your job. The average working person would never say that.

But then again, your boss was far from average. He was an unbearable and incredibly sassy 110 year old super soldier turned politician who consistently pushed your buttons when it came to setting him straight for the sake of his political career.

With all things considered, it was no wonder that you fell in love with him. And you couldn't have had it any other way.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst (I guess, I'm not sure lol) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide A/N: Soo I was going to make a fluffy/smutty story but my PMDD hit me hard af and then BOOM, this. This was super hard yet easy to write at the same time probably because it's a self insert lol like this is literally me. Sylus' "perfect" persona does intimidate me and I grappled with the thoughts of "what if Sylus was real, could he actually handle this?" I hope everyone enjoys and please please please remember to take care of yourselves! 💗

Next

When was the last time you crawled out of bed today? Your stomach twisting, hunger pangs turn into nausea. But the thought of forcing your limbs to carry you into the kitchen for food feels insufferable. So, you stay buried in the tangle of unmade, unwashed sheets. A hint of fabric softener desperately clinging to the fibers, the stale scent of sweat and skin already taking over. Earlier, you pressed your nose into your shoulder, checking. The sweet floral deodorant from days ago (you think) has spoiled into something sour.  

Each day and sleepless night blend together. They become hard to tell apart, except when the phone rings. Work is calling again—probably to ask when you’ll be back in or to terminate you. You know you should care—you do care! Well, you used to. You liked your job; you were good at it. But does it bring you joy? Right now, does anything?

Everything feels like a chore that you can’t be bothered to attempt. Showering? The thought alone is exhausting. But thinking about the steps that come before the shower is enough to make you sit in your own filth. You reach up absently. Your fingers get lost in the greasy roots and tangle in the mess below. Dandruff flakes dust your pillow. You picked at your scalp while scrolling for hours. Anything to pull you out of this pit you’ve fallen into, for a moment of relief. Your stomach churns each time your tongue touches the slimy coating that has built up on your teeth. Panic spikes at the thought of cavities—the decay, a reminder of neglect. Yet, there you lie, paralyzed by your own anxieties. God, you want to move. You really do. But then you tell yourself, I’ll brush them after I eat, for sure. You know it’s a lie. But it makes the guilt easier to swallow.  

These bouts come and go, pulled in by a force you can’t escape—because you are the force. Like the moon dragging in the tides, summoning waves too strong to withstand. When you’re up, you trick yourself into thinking that you have it all together, like you’ve cracked some secret code. You throw yourself into work, into people, an endless loop on performance mode. Blissfully numb. Until the crash. The tide swells too high, knocking you under and swallowing you whole. Then you’re here, again. Bedridden. Isolated. Time slips through your fingers. Days, weeks—who knows how long. Until someone notices your absence. Usually, him. Then you have to explain why you vanished and begin to collect the pieces of you that have washed back ashore.

“You should trust Sylus more," your therapist had said, voice gentle but firm. “Let him in during these episodes. He wants to help you.”  

You nodded, pretending to consider it, not missing the way they emphasized the "want to help you" part. But the idea was absurd, laughable. Let Sylus see you like this? No, it’s better this way. You can keep your dignity and him, a win-win situation.

This episode—as your therapist calls it—came at the perfect time. Sylus is away on a business trip, conveniently absent when you’ve sunk to your lowest. He gives you roughly three days of no contact before the constant calls start rolling in. This time, luck was on your side, a twisted kind of luck, but still one that was to your advantage. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror that he’d feel if he saw you like this.

Undeserving. That’s the only word that comes to mind when you think of Sylus, especially in moments like these.

Sylus, the man who has everything—and if he doesn’t, he simply acquires it. Always composed, always in control. He’s the kind of person who seems to glide through life, untouchable. You can’t imagine him unraveling, not like this. No, if he ever stumbled, he’d just power through it. There are no obstacles he can’t overcome.  

Until you.

You are the only thing he can’t fix. A threat to the pristine world he’s built. Thankfully, he hasn’t seen you like this, and he never will. He can’t.

Your therapist says your way of thinking is the problem. You don’t let him in. You don’t give him a chance to understand. Your therapist doesn’t know Sylus like you do. What if he does understand—but secretly believes you’re too much? And knowing Sylus, what if he doesn’t leave, but worse—stays out of obligation? Out of pity?

Your chest begins to tighten at the thought, your heartbeat picking up. You’d rather disappear completely than let him see you like this.

But before you can spiral any further, the doorbell rings.

[zepskies]

A SIMPLE TOUCH

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Summary: Annie still has reservations about Ben, and you dating him for that matter…until she sees it.

AN: Surprise drabble! Dipping back into the BMD-verse for a sec. Chronologically, it's set sometime after In the Dark.

Prompt from @lifeonawhim: The reader is physically affectionate. (BMD) Ben sees this, tries to give her that comfort, and it just surprises everyone—how Ben is a source of comfort for her, even though he’s quite literally the strongest man.

Originally posted on Patreon: 1/01/25

Word Count: 600

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

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Annie was loyal to a fault. For that reason, she was still skeptical about Soldier Boy—about Ben, even after Vought Tower collapsed.

You might’ve been living with him now, but that didn’t mean he was safe, or even a good enough man for you.

She watched you closely in concern while the team filed onto the small private plane. It was set to take you all from northern Pennsylvania back down to New York. You weren’t injured, but in a way, you were still walking wounded.

The rogue supe that the Supe Affairs team was called in to catch had destroyed an office building. You, M.M., and Frenchie had saved a handful of people while Ben and the rest of the team handled the supe. But a young woman slipped right through your fingers off a balcony, falling to the pavement from three stories high.

You still remembered the look of shock cross her face. It was frozen there, even after her body lay prone on the cement. Her blue eyes, perfect mirrors of didn’t see that coming.

That was the picture you couldn’t get out of your head.

Now, you were moving slow, your face tired and drawn. Annie was about to ask if you were okay, even though she knew the answer full well.

Ben reached out his hand to you first. He was ahead of you in the aisle, having put his carry-on bag and yours in the overhead bin. You looked at his hand, and then up at him.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, his voice deep and steady. It steadied you, along with his hand around yours. He guided you not into the seat next to him, but onto his lap. By now he’d changed out of his suit, leaving him in jeans and a dark gray sweater you picked out for him, rolled up to his elbows.

Annie sat with Hughie across the aisle, but she had you and Ben in the corner of her eye. She marveled at the way he was holding you, seeming to know you needed the contact. With a sigh, you allowed yourself to lay against his chest while his warm hand ran up and down your back. A simple touch was all you needed to relax in his arms.

“Don’t mind me. Just gonna sleep for about ten years,” you murmured against his chest. You laid a hand over his heart, silently thanking him as your fingers drifted back and forth.

Ben’s lips quirked upwards. “Just try not to drool on me. New shirt, you know.”

Despite yourself, that managed to make you smile, huffing a laugh. You shoved his shoulder in retaliation. “I don’t drool.”

He knew for a fact that you did, but he just smirked. He sunk his fingers into your hair and inhaled the familiar floral scent of your shampoo.

“Get some shut-eye,” he rumbled. “We’ll be home soon.”

His thumb brushed your cheek, encouraging you to rest. So you did. Your eyes closed on you after you let go of a deep, even breath.

In the grand scheme of things, it was a nothing moment. This was a man who had crumbled two skyscrapers and scarred Hughie for life. (He’d never be able to listen to Air Supply again, pretty much for as long as he lived.)

And yet, maybe it meant Annie could stop worrying so much about your judgment where Ben was concerned.

Only much later, she would realize that this was the moment she actually started to trust him.

AN: I want to get back into BMD world for a longer visit, hopefully soon. 💚💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Next in line, we have a fun, fluffy, angsty, smutty, 3-part Christmas special, Love Actually:

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system. At least, you hope you can, before he meets the rest of your dysfunctional family on Christmas Day.

▶️ Next Story: Love Actually

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[societyfolklore]

Hiiiii 😍 can I pretty please ask for an imagine where Bucky and you are a couple and you're there with him in Wakanda when he is freed from the word controlling him. Like the heartbreaking scene around the fire, where he knows he's free, and you are there for him and he's holding you close like he would fall apart without you. Then later in his hut it's all fluffy maybe a bit smutty, but only if you want. Thank youuuu !

Title:  Freed

Pairing: Wakanda!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  After years of torment, Bucky is finally free from the words that once controlled him. You’re by his side when it happens.

Word Count:  2k

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, Established relationship, Emotional hurt/comfort, canon-level trauma, soft/romantic smut, post-deprogramming intimacy, light angst with a healing ending, one-arm Bucky (but Vibranium shoulder)  unprotected sex, slow burn tenderness, praise, body worship, crying during sex, firelight sex, fluff A/N:  Thank you for this request, but want to take this chance to recommend @angelremnants series HEAT WAVES Part One (There are three parts) which explores Bucky's recovery in Wakanda. ALSO I’m so hoping I got the trigger words right.. google translate is a bit iffy sometimes) The fire crackled softly under the Wakandan sky, casting flickering gold across Bucky’s face, making the lines of pain and exhaustion etched into his features all the more visible. You watched him from a few feet away, your heart in your throat, barely daring to breathe. Ayo stood across from him, on the other side of the fire, quiet and focused, her voice calm and unwavering as she said the word that once meant devastation.

"Zhelaniye. Rzhaviy."

He flinched.

Your breath caught painfully in your chest.

"Semyadca"

He shuddered, his shoulders jerking like the word had pierced straight through bone.

"It's not going to work."

His voice cracked with quiet despair, thick and raw with fear, barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words too loudly might make them real. His eyes stayed locked on the fire, unblinking, like it held the answer to his freedom- or the confirmation of his doom. The flames reflected in the blue of his eyes, dancing like ghosts of the past he couldn't escape.

His jaw trembled, the muscle there feathering with the effort to stay composed. His shoulders were rigid, locked in place as though even the smallest movement might shatter him. You saw the tear before it fell, clinging stubbornly to his lower lashes, glistening in the firelight. A single bead of grief, of fear, of decades of pain refusing to be contained any longer.

You ached for him to look at you instead, to see your face, to feel your presence- to remember that he wasn’t alone in this, that he never had to face it alone again. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He was caught in it, drowning in the weight of what might come next, and all you could do was be near enough to catch him when he fell.

"Rassvet. Pech."

Tears welled in your eyes. You hated those words. Hated the way they twisted into him like claws. But he wasn’t breaking- not this time. His lips were trembling, jaw clenched like he was holding the whole damn world together.

"Devyat. Dobroserdechnyy. "

His breathing got rough, chest rising and falling like he’d run miles- but this was no physical exertion. He was fighting ghosts, memories clawing their way through the cracks in his mind, each word like a trigger detonating deep within his soul. His hands were fists at his sides, not from rage, but desperation- as if gripping reality with all he had left. You could see the tension in his neck, how close he was to shattering. His eyes were filling with water, not just from pain, but from the unbearable weight of trying- fighting a battle no one else could see, but you felt every ounce of it with him. 

"Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu. Odin."

One last time. You watched his face.

"Tovarnyy vagon."

And then- nothing.

Silence, except for the fire.

The world seemed to hold its breath. Even the wind stilled, as if it too was waiting to see what came next. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, echoing in your ears as your gaze never left him.

You stepped closer as Ayo said softly, "You are free."

Bucky didn’t move for a second. The words hung in the air between you, too powerful to fully believe. A single tear slipped down his cheek, catching in the firelight like a falling star. His chest heaved with a shaky breath. Then his eyes- wide, almost wild- snapped to yours. And you saw it. That tiny glimmer of disbelief. Of hope. Of something long buried beginning to rise.

He was free.

You crossed the space in an instant, barely aware of your feet hitting the earth.

His arms were around you before you could even speak. He buried his face in your shoulder, his body trembling with the aftershocks of a battle no one else could see. He clutched you like a man who’d been drowning and finally found air, fingers digging into your back like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. His breath hitched in your ear, uneven and broken and real.

"I thought it would never stop," he whispered, voice breaking like a dam under pressure. "I thought I’d always be... that thing. A weapon. A monster." His hands tightened in the fabric of your clothes, as if anchoring himself to something real, something good. "I didn’t think I’d ever come back from it."

You held him tighter, your arms circling him like a shield, running your fingers through his tangled hair, your lips brushing against his temple with reverence. "You were never just that. You were always more. But now? You're free, baby. You’re finally free." You felt his breath stutter against your neck, and your own eyes burned with unshed tears.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression cracked wide open, vulnerable and bare. His eyes were glassy, red-rimmed, but soft, so full of aching. "Don’t let go of me." His voice was small, almost childlike.

"Never," you whispered fiercely, your forehead resting against his. "Not now. Not ever."

Later, after the tears and the fire and the quiet walk back to his hut, you found yourself draped over him on the narrow bed, like one of the soft Wakandan blankets he’d grown so fond of. Your legs tangled with his, your head tucked beneath his chin, nestled against the curve of his body under his remaining arm. His vibranium shoulder shifted slightly as he breathed, but it was his right arm that held you, his warm hand resting against your back, protective, steady, and so achingly human.

Your fingers traced lazy lines over his new shoulder and up to trace little patters on his neck. He was quieter now, still raw but grounded, like the weight had finally been lifted from his soul.

"You stayed," he murmured. He sounded tired still, no wonder tonight had taken a lot out of him. 

"Of course I did."

"I wouldn’t have made it through without you."

You sat up a little to look into those wondrous blue eyes of his, your hand cradling his cheek as he blinked up at you, content and vulnerable in the soft light. Then you pressed soft kisses into his forehead, lingering there like a promise. "You did this, Bucky. You fought. I just loved you through it."

He smiled against your skin, a real one. Soft and tired and safe.

Your touch drifted lower, skimming the line of his waist. His breath caught when your fingers teased beneath the hem of his waistband.

"Wanna show you how grateful I am," he whispered, voice husky now, warm and low in the dark. His hand brushed your hip, thumb moving in slow, reverent circles, like he was grounding himself in the reality of your body, your presence, the moment. There was no urgency, only need, the quiet, aching kind born from survival, from still being here.

"Yeah?" you breathed, heart fluttering.

You climbed over him, slow and careful, straddling his hips as he lay back against the bed. His vibranium shoulder shifted beneath him as he adjusted, but it was his right arm- his only hand- that reached for you, fingers brushing your cheek, then settling over your hip with a grounding, tender grip. The kiss he gave you was reverent, gentle, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to have you like this. To feel.

His hand roamed with quiet purpose, memorizing you like a map, fingertips trailing over your skin in soft devotion- like now, finally, he could touch you without shadows. He watched you through heavy-lidded eyes, jaw slack with awe, as you shifted above him with reverence.

You reached for the fabric tied low on his hips- loose Wakandan linen he’d gotten used to wearing. With deliberate care, you untied the knot and pushed it aside, revealing him to the cool air. You could feel his breath stutter as you slid your folds along the length of him, not taking him in, just gliding your slick heat over him in slow, languid passes. Your arousal coated him in wet desire, the glide of your body an erotic, intimate tease that made his jaw clench and a low growl rise in his throat. Each slow grind of your hips was deliberate, worshipful, as if marking him with the proof of how deeply you ached for him.

A low groan rumbled in his chest, and his right hand gripped your hip, fingertips pressing into your skin. You ground your hips against him, sliding up and down the length of him without taking him in, the friction enough to make you both tremble. The air was thick with heat and reverence, the firelight painting your bodies in gold and shadow.

When you finally shifted your hips and sank onto him, a shaky gasp spilled from both your lips. He filled you slowly, deeply, and you paused with him fully seated inside, your forehead resting against his.

"Fuck," he whispered, reverent and wrecked. "You feel like home."

Bucky sat up with effort, his shoulders bracing behind him as his right arm circled your waist. His lips found yours again, hungry, grateful. He kissed you like he was memorizing it, like he never wanted to come up for air.

"God, you feel so good," he murmured against your lips, breath hot and shaky. "So warm… so alive."

You whimpered softly, your forehead pressed to his. "You're here, baby. You're really here. I've got you."

His hand found your breast, cupping and kneading with aching tenderness, his thumb brushing over your nipple in time with your slow rolls of your hips. You gasped, your nails digging lightly into his shoulder as your body pulsed around him.

"That’s it, doll," he whispered, his voice rough and reverent. "Take your time… I wanna feel every damn second of this."

You rocked against him with lazy purpose, each motion deep and drawn out. Your head tipped back, a breathless moan escaping you as you felt him fill you again, stretching you just right, grounding you in a way nothing else ever had. "Nothing- no one- feels like you do, Bucky," you gasped, your voice breaking on the edges of pleasure. "You’re the only one I want..."

He groaned softly, kissing along your jaw, your throat, like he couldn’t get enough of your skin. The glow of the firelight cast you both in amber, your skin shining with sweat and reverence, the shadows flickering across the planes of his chest and the curves of your back.

He whispered your name like a prayer between kisses, like it grounded him to this world. "Tell me this is real," he murmured. "Tell me I’m not dreaming."

You cupped his cheek, voice thick with emotion. "It’s real. You’re mine, Bucky. You're here, really here."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest flush to his, your skin slick and warm where it met his. Each roll of your hips was met with a soft rock of his own, his thighs flexing beneath you, pushing deeper, drawing out breathy moans that tangled with the crackle of firelight.

His right hand held tight to your waist, guiding you gently, as if every movement was sacred. "You’re everything," he groaned. "You saved me."

"We saved each other," you whispered into his ear.

You stayed like that, chest to chest, sweat mingling, hearts beating in time, until the world outside that bed no longer existed, and all that remained was the rhythm you made together.

This was what it meant to be free. To feel, to be loved, to live.

You came first, your body tensing as the wave crested, your thighs shaking, your hips bucking slightly against him as your climax crashed through you. His name tumbled from your lips in a broken moan, high and desperate, as your walls clenched and spasmed around him, gripping him so tightly it dragged him right over the edge with you.

Bucky gasped your name with a raw, wrecked sound, trembling beneath you as he spilled inside, his grip tightening on your waist like he was holding on for dear life. You held him close through the shuddering aftershocks, your forehead pressed to his, grounding him in your touch.

Reminding him he was safe.

Reminding him he was loved. 

[artficlly]

smog & spirits: eye for an eye (series)

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

mob!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, smut, p n v, unprotected sex, table sex, light fingering, hair pulling, begging, past wounds, physical violence, angst, wound description, threats, some fluff, protective bucky, bucky barnes had issues, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: hi!! i spent all of jan doing my 50k word challenge on the daughter of rotsál first draft, but i thought i'd take these first few days of feb to update this fic! i also released a smutty/fluffy oneshot called sweatpea you should check out! my birthday and uni is coming up soon so i'm gonna try squeeze in some more work on the daughter of rotsál draft before that and maybe one more update / another one-shot but i'll see how i go! anyway, enjoy this is a spicy one! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

taglist: @nash-dara @sebastians-love permanent taglist: @globetrotter28

main masterlist | series masterlist

The shipment warehouse was a vast, hollowed-out space. Shadows stretched long beneath the dim, hanging bulbs. The scent of aged wood, alcohol, and rust lingered in the air, the faint remnants of the whiskey that passed through here on its way to buyers. Though mostly empty, clusters of wooden crates were stacked against the far walls, some sealed, others pried open to reveal their glass cargo, bottles of dark amber liquid reflecting the weak light. Scattered metal production tables dotted the floor, their surfaces scratched and stained from years of work. These were the stations where workers packed the shipments, but now, the tables sat abandoned, save for one.

At the centre of the warehouse, in front of one of the tables, three men sat bound to chairs. Rope bit into their flesh, tight enough that their fingers were already turning an ugly shade of blue. The table before them had been repurposed for something far crueller than packaging liquor. A collection of weapons lay across its surface—blades, hammers, pliers, each one arranged with careful deliberation. 

By the main entrance, Steve and Sam stood guard, their figures solid and unmoving, you eyed them cautiously as you passed through the threshold. They didn’t quite meet your eye, and you wondered if they could hear the deafening pulse that roared in your ears. The cold night air filtered in through the open doors behind them, a scattering of ash decorating the stone floor.

Bucky entered beside you, his steps slow and deliberate. But you could feel the unspoken tension rolling off him in waves. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his shoulders squared rigidly, his jaw tight. The walk over from the Sootline had been silent, even if you could practically feel the heat of rage radiating off him. He didn’t seem eager to talk to you, even if his gaze would occasionally flicker to you to make sure you still followed along behind him. Maybe he feared he would find judgment in your eyes because he never held them for long.

“Bucky—” You called out softly, but the gangster shied away from your touch, the fabric of his sleeve slipping through your fingers. 

He strode forward, each step heavy, his boots striking against the stone with a slow, deliberate rhythm that sent a shiver down your spine. The sound echoed through the warehouse, filling it like a countdown ticking. You knew him. You had to remind yourself of that. You knew this man—the sharp edges of his cruelty, the weight of his fury, the way violence coiled beneath his skin like a second nature. You knew him intimately; you had felt the warmth of his breath, the roughness of his hands, and the steel of his will.

And yet, in this moment, he felt distant. Unreachable.

Even if he was angry, even if he had been cold and dismissive, his rage was not aimed at you. This was because of you. Because of what happened. The thought should have been comforting, a reassurance that you were not in his path and that his wrath had a different target. And yet, the knowledge did little to ease the weight pressing against your bruised ribs; it didn’t stop the breath from hitching in your throat as you took in the scene before you.

You were safe. You knew that.

But safety did nothing to silence the unease creeping through your veins.

The Iron Rats reacted the moment Bucky neared them. Two of them shrank back, their chairs creaking as they futilely tried to recoil from him. Their eyes darted between Bucky and the weapons on the table, their breath coming in quick, ragged gasps. One of them had already begun to tremble, his lips forming silent prayers, his body betraying him as he shook against the restraints.

But the third man—the one at the end—was different. He didn’t cower, didn’t flinch. He simply stared ahead, eyes hollow, his expression unreadable. It was as if he had already accepted whatever was coming and made peace with the inevitable. 

“Barnes.” You snapped louder this time, voice clipped. The gangster paused his movements, not even turning to look back as he raised his hand, silencing you with a raise of his index finger.

“I was considerin’ if the bird needed to see this.” He finally broke his silence, voice low with a dangerous edge. “But I think she needs’a understand, don’t ya think?” 

His hand struck forward, grasping one of the cowering men’s chins, forcing his head to look in your direction. You could tell his grip was bruising, even from a distance, the skin around his thumb growing white at the pressure. “She needs’a understand what happens to dirty fuckin’ rats that come crawling into my territory.”

Bucky released the man with a sharp shove, and the Iron Rat nearly sobbed in relief, his chair rocking back violently from the force. His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. Bucky barely spared him a glance. Instead, he dragged his fingers down the front of his suit jacket in one broad stroke as if ridding himself of the filth he had just touched. 

Then, without looking, he reached for the table, his fingers curling around the worn handle of a butcher’s knife. The blade was thick and heavy, meant to cleave through bone as quickly as meat. As he lifted it, it scraped against the metal tabletop, the sound sharp and grating—final.

Bucky turned to you, his fingers curling around the handle, weighing it in his grip like an executioner deliberating his next stroke. His gaze pinned you in place.

“Left or right, doll?”

The question landed like a punch to the gut.

“What?” You stammered back in response.

“Left or right?” His voice was eerily steady, too casual for the brutality hanging in the air. It was as if he were asking you to pick a wine for dinner, not deciding which limb would be lost. Your throat tightened. The Iron Rats were barely breathing, one whimpering, his chair creaking under his tremors.

You forced your voice to work. “Barnes, don’t you think we’ve caused enough damage?”

You knew you'd made a mistake the second the words left your lips.

Bucky’s head snapped towards you, his jaw ticking, something dark and dangerous flickering behind his eyes. The shift in him was immediate, electric. He abandoned the bound man without hesitation, closing the space between you in a few sharp strides. Your pulse stuttered.

He was on you in seconds, looming, his presence suffocating. You turned your head instinctively as his breath fanned hot across your cheek, but there was no escaping him.

“No.”

The single word was like a hammer shattering stone.

“We ‘aven’t caused nearly enough damage after what they did.” His voice, low and venomous, left no room for argument. His free hand clenched at his side, fingers twitching with barely contained rage. “You think I’m gonna let these filthy fuckin’ rats walk away after puttin’ their hands on you? Huh? After hurtin’ you right under my fuckin’ nose?”

Your breath caught, your ribs tightening under the weight of his fury. He leant in, close enough that his lips nearly brushed your ear. His words were a vow, a sentence carved in stone when he spoke next. “You’re under my protection. Mine. You’re mine. So fuckin’ choose, doll. Left or right?”

Your stomach twisted. The Iron Rats were silent, frozen, waiting for your answer as if it were their final prayer. You swallowed.

“…Right.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth curled, but there was no warmth in it. It was a razor-sharp thing, all teeth and no kindness. His eyes gleamed with something feverish, something manic.

“Good girl,” he purred. The praise was smooth, almost sweet, but his grip on the knife tightened, knuckles whitening around the handle. And then he turned. The Iron Rat barely had time to process what was happening before Bucky moved.

The butcher’s knife came down in a single, brutal arc.

A sickening crack filled the warehouse as steel met flesh and bone, followed by a scream so raw, so agonised, it turned your stomach. The man convulsed against his restraints, his bound arms jerking wildly, but there was nowhere to go.

Blood splattered across the metal tabletop, dark and glistening. It pooled. Dripped and painted the concrete floor beneath him. His severed hand tumbled to the ground with a dull thud, fingers twitching uselessly in the growing puddle of red.

Bucky barely spared the carnage a glance. “You touched her,” he said coldly, voice devoid of sympathy. 

“So I took your fuckin’ hand.” He tilted his head, considering the sobbing, writhing man before him. “Consider it generous that I ain’t takin’ both.”

The Iron Rat howled, his body convulsing. Tears streamed down his face, his cries dissolving into choked, incoherent pleas for mercy. Bucky wasn’t listening. He wiped the blade clean against his sleeve, smearing crimson across the dark fabric like a war trophy. Then, slowly, he turned to the second man, pointing the stained blade at him.

“Your turn.”

The second Iron Rat thrashed in his chair, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. His eyes, wild with terror, darted between Bucky and the ruined stump of the first man. Blood still poured from the wound, pooling beneath the chair, seeping into the cracks of the warehouse floor. The stench of it—sharp, metallic, raw—hung thick in the air.

“Please,” he sobbed. “Please, I—I didn’t even—”

Bucky slammed a heavy hand down on his shoulder, silencing him with a violent jolt. The Iron Rat flinched, chest heaving, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face. Bucky turned to you again, the knife glinting under the dim warehouse lights.

“Left or right?”

Your fingers curled into your palms, nails digging deep enough to leave crescent moons in your skin, but the sting barely registered. Your mind screamed at you, an urgent, panicked voice clawing at the edges of your thoughts. Stop this. Say something. Tell him it’s enough.

But you didn’t.

Because you knew the truth now, Bucky wouldn’t listen. Any sense of cold calculation had snapped within him, as if his father himself had possessed his body. His blood was up, his fury ran red-hot and unchecked. Reason was a foreign concept to him in this moments, swallowed whole by vengeance and violence.

Your breath felt thin as you watched him, as you remembered what was left of Varlan Crey. The Rat King, so smug, so untouchable, had been brought to his knees. Felled not by magic or blades, but by the sheer, unrelenting wrath of Bucky Barnes. He had survived, maybe by the hand of a small mercy. Or maybe just dumb luck. Because you had seen it—the flicker of real, unguarded fear in Crey’s eyes. The raw understanding that, for the first time, he had stood at the very edge of death and only barely stepped back in time.

You swallowed, throat dry as dust. “Left.”

A shuddering breath left the Iron Rat, some final, pitiful sound before—

Bucky moved.

The blade came down hard.

The crack of severed bone and the wet, visceral tear of flesh split through the warehouse. The man’s scream ripped through the air, raw and broken, his body jerking violently against the chair. Blood sprayed across the table, warm and thick, dripping onto the floor. His severed hand landed with a sickening slap, fingers twitching before they went still.

Bucky tightened his grip on the man’s shoulders, keeping him from toppling the chair over as he convulsed in agony. He wiped the blade again, slow and deliberate, his gaze flicking to the last Iron Rat—the one who hadn’t made a sound.

The man met Bucky’s eyes with an eerie, empty calm.

No trembling. No pleading. Just quiet resignation.

A slight, bitter smile played at the edges of his lips as he tilted his head, gesturing to his left hand, which was secured against the arm of the chair. A soldier offering himself to the executioner.

Bucky exhaled sharply, amused. “Good choice.”

And then he brought the knife down.

The man grunted as the blade severed flesh and bone in one clean stroke, but he didn’t scream. His body twitched, stiffening against the pain, but he bit it down. His severed hand dropped onto the table this time, fingers curling inward, as if gripping something unseen. Blood seeped from the wound, a slow, steady stream.

Bucky studied him for a moment, almost impressed.

Then, satisfied, he tossed the knife onto the table with a dull clang. The first two Iron Rats were still crying, writhing, staring at their stumps like they could somehow undo what had been done. The third just slumped in his chair, pale and shaking, but silent.

“I think I should take an eye next, for even lookin’ at you. What’d you think, doll?” Exhaustion lay heavy in your bones as your eyes fluttered shut briefly. Bucky was upon you again, his gaze softer now, the fury still burning beneath the surface but tempered. He reached for you, his bloodied fingers grazing your arm in a touch that was meant to be comforting. “Eye for an eye, after all.”

“I don’t…” You stammered but leant into his touch by default. Steve and Sam had adverted their eyes, their expressions unreadable as they pressed their lips into a line. 

“I’ll choose for ya, how’s that sound, doll?” He rubbed a bloodied thumb across your cheek. You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping something in your eyes could pull him away. But his eyes settled on the faded split in your lip, and his gaze hardened. “They have to pay.”

Bucky stalked off towards the array of weapons displayed along the table once more. The knife he chose gleamed under the dim light, and Bucky tested the edge against his thumb. A single bead of red welled up but he paid it no mind. His attention was elsewhere—on the trembling man before him, the one still staring at his bleeding stump, breath hitching in raw, animalistic terror.

“Please,” the Iron Rat sobbed, voice wet, desperate. “Please, Barnes, I can’t—I—”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders like the weight of their begging was nothing more than an inconvenience. His hand was steady, practiced, as he tapped the knife tip against the man’s chin, tilting his face up.

“Didn’t fuckin’ ask for pleas,” he murmured, voice eerily even. “Left or right?”

The man shuddered violently. He turned slightly, eyes flicking to you as though you could save him as if you had any say. You swallowed, your tongue thick and useless, pinned in place by the weight of Bucky’s presence and the inevitability of what came next.

When no answer came, Bucky clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“Left it is.” The knife sank into the man’s left eye in a swift, brutal motion. A high and raw shriek tore through the room, sending a shudder through your bones.

You flinched, but only slightly. The movement barely registered.

You had seen Bucky covered in blood before, had seen him like this before—violent, efficient, merciless. Yet you had also seen him in moments far removed from this carnage.

You had watched him bleed and had pressed your hands to his wounds to keep him from slipping away. You had felt his warmth seeping between your fingers, his breath shallow but steady as he let you take care of him. He had trusted you then, let you see him vulnerable when he could have just as easily pushed you away.

He had defended you against the Rat King, standing between you and the man who had wanted to carve you apart. If it hadn’t been for him, would you have been at the mercy of the Iron Rats? Tied to a chair like the three men before you? There had been no hesitation in him then, just like there was none now. And it was all for you.

The thought made your stomach tighten, but not in fear. Not entirely.

Bucky wiped the knife clean on the Iron Rat’s pant leg, a simple, thoughtless movement, and turned to the last man. The final Iron Rat had been silent the entire time, watching the carnage with eerie detachment. Even now, as the scent of blood thickened the air and his fallen comrades moaned and sobbed, his expression barely shifted. He only blinked, slow and deliberate, as Bucky approached.

“Ya know what I’m gonna ask,” Bucky said, voice quieter this time.

A pause.

Then, a small sigh.

“Right,” the man murmured, resigned.

Something flickered in Bucky’s expression—curiosity, maybe. Approval. He didn’t make him wait. The blade sank deep, and though the Iron Rat tensed, his breath hitching sharply, he made no sound. Blood welled, thick and dark, spilling down his cheek, but he simply slumped against the restraints, his ruined eye weeping crimson.

Bucky lingered, staring at him, head tilted slightly. Considering. Perhaps even disappointed.

Bucky only clicked his tongue before turning back to you. The shift was subtle but immediate. The hardness in his expression softened, his eyes no longer carrying the cold fury he had wielded so effortlessly moments before. His hand, still warm despite the blood smeared across his fingers, reached for you, grazing your waist.

“See, doll?” he murmured. “Now they know.”

Your breath caught.

You should have felt horror. Revulsion. But instead, as you looked at him—his jaw speckled with blood, his chest rising and falling evenly, the fire still smouldering behind his eyes—you felt something else entirely. Something that made your fingers twitch, something that made your chest tighten.

Maybe, just maybe, this was more than just lust.

You weren’t sure whether that should’ve terrified you.

But at that moment, staring up at him, your heart still pounding, you weren’t sure you cared.

—

Bucky quickly issued his orders: everyone was to leave but you. Sam and Steve moved without hesitation, grabbing a bloodied, barely conscious Iron Rat by the scruff of their necks and dragging them towards the exit. The metallic scent of blood lingered in the cold warehouse air, thick and rich, settling into your lungs with each breath.

Bucky didn’t watch them leave.

He stood with his back turned, broad shoulders taut, tension coiling through his body like a predator still primed for the kill. His suit jacket lay discarded on the blood-splattered table. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled to his elbows, the fabric marred with streaks of red. His hands—still wet with it—hung at his sides, fingers twitching slightly as if the violence hadn’t yet left his system.

You hesitated before moving, carefully stepping past the grotesque remnants of severed hands littering the floor. You focused on him instead, on the way his body seemed stretched too tight like he was waiting for another enemy to appear from the shadows.

Slowly, cautiously, you reached out, smoothing a hand over his forearm. The muscles beneath your fingers were rigid but warm, his pulse steady despite the chaos he’d unleashed.

“You showed them your hand,” you murmured, your voice soft and testing. “What will you do now?”

Your fingers traced a slow path up his arm, featherlight over the muscle, following the curve of his shoulder. When he didn’t pull away, you grew bolder, stepping around him until you stood before him. His face was speckled with blood; the scarlet splattered across his jaw and streaked along the bridge of his nose. His blue eyes, cold and unreadable just moments ago, stirred—just barely—as they settled on you.

“They needed to be taught a lesson,” he said simply, his voice still edged with the lingering embers of rage. A repetition of the words he’d spoken before.

You sighed through your nose, your hands splaying across his chest. His shirt was warm beneath your touch, the steady rise and fall of his breath grounding you. You pressed yourself flush against him, seeking—what? Comfort? Reassurance? An answer you weren’t sure you wanted?

“Yes,” you conceded, your voice quieter now, steadier. “But you’ve shown ‘em your hand.” 

Your fingers curled slightly into the fabric, gripping him, holding him there with you. “You’ve told ‘em another woman is close to you—other than your sister. One that commands enough of your attention for you to do this.”

His eyes flickered with amusement. “Ya scared, doll?”

“No.” The answer was immediate, instinctive—but the certainty of it wavered, even in your own mind. Was that really the truth? “I just want to understand why you’d expose a weakness like that.”

He snorted softly, his bloodstained hands coiling around your waist, holding you there. His grip was firm and possessive but not forceful. There was no threat in his touch, only something else, something deeper, something that made your stomach twist.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to hope. Maybe he would finally say something—something real. Something sweet. He always left you with vague declarations of ownership and lust.

Because he cared, he had to—right? No man would do what he had done tonight if he didn’t care. No man would make a spectacle of his violence, an open display of his wrath for the sake of a woman if she meant nothing? He had carved his rage into flesh and blood for you and left a message in the ruined bodies of those men. You mattered to him.

Didn’t you?

But when he finally spoke, his words weren’t what you wanted.

“You have your worth, spirit-raiser.”

A flicker of disappointment bloomed in your gut. You could have pulled away. Should have, maybe. But you didn’t because you needed something from him: reassurance, protection. Proof that he would stand between you and whatever enemies would inevitably come for you now that he had placed you in the centre of this war.

Perhaps tonight had been proof enough.

Conflict and confusion pressed heavily in your chest, warring with the heat between you.

Fuck Becca’s warnings.

There was something here, wasn’t there?

Your hand slid up, fingers ghosting over the rough stubble of his jaw. You cradled his face, pulling him closer. His breath was warm, tinged with the faint scent of whiskey and blood, and for a moment, you hesitated—just a moment—before pressing your lips to his.

Bucky responded instantly, like a man starved, his eager hands gripping your waist with a bruising intensity as if grounding himself in your presence. A sharp wince pricked at your ribs, but the hunger in his kiss quickly drowned it out. His lips moved against yours with fervour, rough and consuming, parting only to let his tongue sweep into your mouth, claiming and demanding. You melted into him, your body yielding beneath his, heat pooling low in your stomach as his touch ignited something primal in you.

He moved with purpose, guiding you backwards. His hands were restless, roaming up your spine, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your blouse, searching, craving skin. The cool air kissed your exposed flesh as he fumbled with your buttons, the urgency in his touch making his movements clumsy. You gasped into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss as your own hands wandered lower, gliding down the firm planes of his chest. The taut muscle beneath his white collared shirt flexed beneath your palms, solid and unyielding.

His breath hitched slightly as you dragged your nails over the crisp fabric, feeling the faint thrum of his heartbeat beneath. You felt the shudder in his body as your fingers found the buttons of his vest, slipping them free with deliberate ease. Bucky’s hands found your breasts, moulding the soft flesh through your brassiere with a rough, needy grip, his thumbs sweeping over the peaks in slow, teasing circles. Your head tipped back, a breathy sigh escaping your lips as heat coursed through you.

The vest was discarded in a swift motion, tossed aside without care, and before you could fully react, Bucky’s strong hands lifted you effortlessly, hoisting you onto the cold metal of the production table. The chill of it sent a shiver through your body. Still, the heat between you and him was overwhelming, obliterating any thought. His body pressed between your legs, the hard line of him nestling against you through the fabric of your skirts.

His mouth devoured yours again, possessive and unrelenting, his teeth catching your bottom lip in a sharp, fleeting bite before his tongue soothed the sting. You whimpered quietly into his mouth. Clinging to him, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to earn a low groan from deep within his chest. His thumb grazed over your nipple, teasing through the lace, and your breath hitched.

The world beyond this moment ceased to exist. There was only Bucky—his touch, his breath, his desire pressed into your skin like a brand. And you welcomed it. Welcomed him.

You could already feel the hard length of him, pressing insistently against your inner thigh through the layers of fabric. His heat was unmistakable, searing even through the barrier of clothing, and a shiver rolled through you. The anticipation was unbearable. You reached for his belt, fingers nimble and eager—

But Bucky chuckled, low and deep, knocking your hands away with an easy flick of his wrist. His pupils were blown wide, dark pools of hunger that drank you in as you leant back on your elbows, your body sprawled out before him. His lips were swollen, slick with the mingled taste of you both, his breath warm against your skin. Your chest heaved, one breast exposed where he had tugged it free from your brassiere, the cool air sending a shiver through you.

“Greedy, ain’t ya?” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, but his touch was anything but teasing. His hand slid beneath the heavy fabric of your skirt, fingers dragging up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You barely had time to process the sensation before he grabbed the delicate waistband of your tap pants and tore them down your legs, the lace rasping against your skin as he wrenched them past your ankles and boots.

The discarded scrap of fabric landed somewhere on the warehouse floor, forgotten. His hands were already on you again, possessive, insatiable. You let out a low groan, head falling back as he trailed a digit through your wet slit, humming in delight as he found you already dripping with desire. “Don’t need an arousal potion for this, do we?”

You ignored his quip, instead wrapping your legs around his waist. He chuckled at you, rewarding your eagerness by pressing one of his digits into your cunt. You clenched around him with a whimper, hips rocking as you internally begged for more friction. 

“Let me hear your noises, doll.” Bucky commanded, his spare hand trailing up your thigh. You whined softly, bucking your hips once more in a silent plea. The gangster smirked down at you, pressing a second digit into you as you squirmed beneath him. 

“Please, Bucky.” You mewled, pulling him closer with the legs hooked around his back. He obliged, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. You could hear the squelching of your wetness, your body shuddering with impatience at the leisurely pace. 

“You want more?” He purred, teasing you with a quick flick of your clit with his thumb. You clenched around him involuntarily, a breathy gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure rocked up your spine, a new wave of electricity flooding your gut. 

You pushed yourself up, hands grasping his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath his shirt as you pulled your bodies flush. The heat of him seeped into you, intoxicating, overwhelming. Your mouth found the column of his throat, breath hitching as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his exposed skin. His pulse thrummed beneath your lips, quick and heavy, and you traced it with your tongue, savouring the salt of his skin.

Bucky let out a sharp exhale as you dragged your mouth along his adam’s apple, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh before sucking a bruise into his neck. His grip on your thigh tightened, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks, but you didn’t care. You wanted them. You wanted him to brand himself into your skin the way he had branded himself into your mind.

“Please,” you breathed against his ear, voice hushed, desperate. Your tongue flicked along the shell, teasing, before you nipped at his earlobe, letting your teeth catch just enough to make him groan. “I need you inside me.”

The words sent a shudder through him, a growl vibrating deep in his chest. “Turn around, bend over the table. Now.”

Your head tilted, temple resting against the firm plane of his shoulder as you gazed up at him, your breath uneven. His fingers twitched inside you, a steady rhythm still building, each pump igniting a slow, unbearable heat in your core. A sharp gasp left your lips as pleasure twisted through you, your body tensing in response.

“My ribs—” you managed to gasp, wincing as the dull ache reminded you of your bruises.

Bucky stilled for a moment, a flicker of something soft crossing his face, a rare moment of tenderness blooming between the two of you. His breath was warm against your cheek as he considered your words, his free hand smoothing over your hip as though grounding you.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmured, low and reassuring, though the husk of his voice betrayed his restraint. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

Gentle. A rare promise from a man like him.

Then, just as quickly as he had stilled, he withdrew. A wet heat lingered in the absence of his fingers, and you shuddered, your walls clenching around nothing. A soft whimper escaped before you could stop it, your body betraying the ache of emptiness. You unhooked your legs from around his waist, knees wobbling as you moved, turning yourself around atop the table.

The cold metal kissed your stomach as you laid your front flat against it, one breast still bare from where he had pulled the fabric away. A shuddering breath left you, anticipation thick in your veins as you braced yourself against the surface, your hips lining up with the edge.

Behind you, you heard the sharp metallic clink of his belt buckle, followed by the slow rasp of leather sliding free. The head of his cock pressed against your slick opening, teasing but not quite entering. You whined into the table as his large hands stroked up the back of your thighs, gripping the flesh. 

“So wet,” he muttered. His voice was thick with hunger as he pushed your skirts up, bunching the fabric around your waist, leaving you utterly exposed to him. His hands trailed down, calloused palms smoothing over the curve of your ass before he spread you open, admiring the slick evidence of your need. “So good for me, huh, doll?”

A desperate whimper left you, your body shivering under his touch. You pressed your folded forearms beneath your chest, arching your back in an attempt to save your bruised ribs from the unforgiving metal table.

Then, at last, he pressed into you.

A gasp tore from your throat, your body instinctively tensing as he stretched you open. The intrusion was thick and slow, overwhelming at first, your cunt clenching down against the pressure of him. Your teeth sank into the flesh of your thumb, muffling the choked moan that threatened to spill free. Bucky cursed under his breath, withdrawing just enough before easing back in, working you open with slow, deliberate strokes.

“Ya like this, don’t ya?” His voice was low and strained, his grip tightening on your hips as he pinned you in place. The firm drag of him inside you sent sparks of heat flooding through your veins. “Like me claimin’ you? Like knowin’ I’d fuckin’ tear through them bastards just to keep ya safe?”

A broken moan left you, your body trembling against the metal. Your fingers curled into fists, nails biting into your palms as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust pressing you further against the table. The slick, filthy sounds of your bodies moving together filled the empty warehouse, the echo of skin meeting skin mixing with your ragged breaths.

Bucky groaned, his hands wrapping around your hips as he rocked into you harder, deeper, pulling you back onto him with every thrust. Your mind swam, the bruising grip of his fingers the only thing tethering you to reality.

“Tell me, doll.” His voice was rough, a demand wrapped in silk and sin. His hips snapped forward, driving into you so deep it left you gasping. “Tell me how much you want this.”

“Please—” The word came out in a small, needy sob, your voice trembling as pleasure coiled tight in your belly.

Bucky growled, a deep, guttural sound. One of his hands abandoned your waist, sliding up the length of your back before tangling in your hair. His fingers twisted into the strands, yanking your head back with a sharp tug. A strangled moan burst from your lips, your back arching instinctively. Your nails scraped against the metal table, searching for purchase as he fucked into you harder, faster.

The steady, brutal rhythm of his hips grew relentless. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure up your spine. A filthy symphony of desperate moans, ragged breathing, and the wet, obscene sounds of him driving into you echoed. Bucky groaned, the sound low and primal as he chased his release. His grip on your hip was vice-like, anchoring you in place as he pounded into you without mercy. You could only hope Sam and Steve weren’t lingering nearby to hear the sinful chorus of your pleasure.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as your body tensed, pleasure spiking hot and fast through your veins. Your legs trembled beneath you, knees nearly buckling as your orgasm coiled, threatening to snap.

Then he tugged your hair again, the sting mingling with the pleasure in a dizzying rush, and you came undone.

Your cunt clenched around his cock, a strangled moan ripping from your lips as your body spasmed beneath him. Stars burst behind your eyelids, pleasure flooding through you in rolling waves. Wetness dripped down your inner thighs, evidence of your release slicking his length as he fucked you through the aftershocks.

Bucky let out a deep, shuddering moan, his hips stuttering as he followed you into bliss. His grip on you tightened, his cock pulsing as he spilt inside you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of cum. He kept thrusting, his movements growing erratic, chasing the last remnants of pleasure as he wrung out every drop of ecstasy.

His fingers slowly uncurled from your hair, his grip loosening as the tension drained from his body. You collapsed against the table, breathless and spent. You lay motionless beneath him, allowing him to use you as he rode out the final waves of his release, his heavy breaths mingling with yours.

Gods, you were going to need to take an anti-pregnancy potion after this.

PART EIGHT

[saddeneddimple]

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 — 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛’𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠

Pairing: ot13 x fem reader

Genre: Suggestive, A little smutty, a little fluffy

Warning(s): suggestive content, mentions of more intimate/private parts, some sexual content (this is 18+ content. any interaction below the age will be blocked)

svt masterlist the bookshelf (main m.list)

a/n: the way i giggled at these esp the seokmin one PLSPLSPLSPLS also two posts in a week? who am i frl

𝑺𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒐𝒍

Lips. He adores the way his lips intertwine with yours, fitting each other perfectly as if they were made for each other. He loves small, cute pecks to long, tender and passionate kisses. But his all time favorite is when you’re both deep and hungry, you’re on his lap with your fingers running through his hair, his hands gripping your hips. The way your lips crash with desire, tongues fighting for dominance as small moans escape the both of you.

𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒂𝒏

Neck. He loves kissing your lips and will always kiss you as soon as there’s a sliver of opportunity, but he’s such a sucker for your neck. The soft, perfumed skin is intoxicating, the way you react is addicting to him. Feeling you squirm around as well as feeling your chest heave from the flustering heat accumulating in your body completes him. And when he includes his teeth. Oh boy. The way your breathing suddenly hitches and the way you pant, trying so hard to not let out any moans, eventually failing, makes him crave you.

𝑱𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒂

Your entire Face. He adores you, from your sweet taste to your scent. He loves those deep yet innocent kisses, his hands cupping your cheeks as you melt to his touch, the heat seeping from your skin, warming his hands. He loves scattering kisses all over your face, from your cheeks to your nose to your forehead, making sure every spot doesn’t go untouched by his pillowy lips. The way you react only makes him want to do it more, your shy giggling making him smile between kisses. Even when your face is flushed from its radiating heat as he’s above you, your bodies close and sweating, the way he scatters small kisses around your face, following the rhythm of his hips, those kisses ending on your lips, he just falls for you all over again.

𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒖𝒊

Shoulders. He loves sneaking his way behind you, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist, your body relaxed against his. He loves watching how easy you give him access to your skin, slightly tilting your head as he lowers his to softly kiss your shoulders, working his way up to your sensitive neck and returning back. If he really wants to be a tease, he’d softly nibble on the skin, your body jolting in surprise as a small gasp escapes you, your reaction only making him want to take it further.

𝑺𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈

Nose. There’s something so loving and genuine when he softly pecks your nose, following with nervous giggling as both your faces blush, his turning more into a beet red. Every time he pulls you in for a kiss, his final move is always with a small peck to your nose, following with a tight, warm hug, never wanting to let go of your soothing and soft body. But the nose kisses aren’t entirely innocent either, because when he’s above you, your body trembling underneath his towering silhouette, he looks deeply into your darkened and lustful eyes before his lips crash onto yours. After sharing his deep and hungry kiss, he finishes with a small peck to your nose before he makes you scream his name.

𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒘𝒐𝒐

(face)Cheeks. He always greets you and says goodbye to you with a kiss on the cheek before his lips meet with yours. It’s the simplicity and sweetness behind it, the way he feels your smile form against his lips. Especially when he has you next to him, his hands sinfully playing with your body, your hips twitching as your legs tremble to his sleek fingers. He just watches your face, kissing your cheek in admiration to your beauty and your reaction to his touch.

𝑱𝒊𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏

Wrists. Unusual from the normal placements people would usually kiss but he just loved it. From the fragrance your skin radiated off the wrists to the feeling of worship he had over you. He adored you, adored looking deeply into your eyes, kissing your wrist then quickly trapping your lips with his. He loved kissing your wrists as you were on hips lap while he sits on the couch or bed, watching you bouncing on him. His hands roaming all over your dripping body, reaching your hands as he pulled them to his lips, kissing them before he puts one hand to bind both your wrists behind your back, the other gripped on your waist as he eventually takes control.

𝑺𝒆𝒐𝒌𝒎𝒊𝒏

Fucking Everywhere. This man worships you. Entirely. He loves feeling every curve, every crevice, every inch of your skin goes untouched. He will kiss whatever is closest to him at the moment, from your lips to your belly to your legs, kissing your soft thighs. He hungrily kisses those thighs with so much love and desire as his pretty mouth is being worked on you, even savoringly kissing your soaked core, your entire body shaking to his lips pressed against your slick and sweet center, your bundle of nerves in shock to the small vibrations of his hums and the friction of his pretty mouth against it.

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒚𝒖

Behind the ear. He loves teasing you, watching you melt against him and burst into nervous giggles, playfully pushing him away before your lips met with his. His pretty puppy eyes looking at yours, your lips reuniting and again finding the trail back to his favorite spot. Your reaction was his favorite part, listening to your breathing getting heavy as your body craves friction, your hips bucking up, yearning for his touch. Your neediness making him whisper sweet nothings in your ear, kissing right below it, giving you what you so desire.

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒂𝒐

Eyes. Not butterfly kisses, but kissing right above your eyes or eyebrows. He loves the tender and sweet feeling behind the kisses, the way your eyes flutter when they open or close. He’s so gentle with his plush lips kissing your skin, almost as if he went any harder you’d break. At least when it came to kissing your pretty eyes. Even after making sure you were left shaking, he would ever so softly kiss over your heavy eyes.

𝑺𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒏

Stomach. He adores your body, from the way you were perfectly sculpted to the way you react when he interacts with your body. Everything about you was perfect. His lips traveled your body, always planting the most kisses on your lips and your stomach, his lips grazing your skin, your abdomen tensing to his touch, yearning for more. His tongue occasionally making paintings, licking its way lower.

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒍

Forehead. He always cupped your cheeks, kissing your lips tenderly followed by a small trail of kisses to your forehead, his lips staying there a few seconds longer. He loved your reaction to the long forehead kiss, the connection it brought between you two, your sweet smile etched on your lips, a soft pink spread across your cheeks. Even above you as he inches deeper, he looks into your darkened eyes before his lips met yours, following the same small trail of kisses to your forehead, his forehead eventually colliding against yours, going deeper.

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏

Hips. He also is a man who worships your body, his hands always caressing and feeling your soft flesh, always wanting to dive deeper into you. The moments where you’re standing in front of him, his body below you as he’s sitting down, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, kissing every inch of skin available, mainly focusing on your hips. It’s almost as if he is addicted to kissing them, soft whimpers escaping his lips as he kissed over the hip bone, softly biting into it, making your breath hitch as your fingers run through his hair, gripping it in the process.

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor

Lesson 3: Human Reproduction

Series masterlist

Prev parts: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Independent Study 01: Art Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: Grades, feelings, and a practical lesson in human reproduction

WC: ~14.6K (oopsie/I’m not sorry/you’re welcome)

C/W: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MDNI! Fluff, smut, fluffy smut, smutty fluff, fingering, clit stim, nipple play (M+F rec), p in v sex (protection is discussed; always wrap it irl), pantie stealing (consensual), aftercare, feelings, slight cream pie, brief mention of food and eating, reader wears a short skirt, Wayne Munson. I’ve tried to keep physical descriptions of reader as neutral as possible, lmk if I need to change anything. 

My masterlist

You and Eddie have decided it’s best if you keep your whatevership between the two of you, at least for now. Neither your friends nor family would be thrilled to discover you were giving ‘extracurricular attention’ to the boy the whole town regards as a lawbreaking freak. (Technically, you suppose he is actually both - weed dealing and his general style and demeanour make that statement factually correct, but you don’t see him in the negative way they do.) Furthermore, your teacher may be reluctant to come through on those agreed upon extra credits if he finds out that the lessons you’re offering veer significantly more towards the ‘practical’. So, keeping it on the down-low it is. 

However, that hasn’t stopped you from thinking about your study sessions with Eddie. In fact, he’s on your mind almost constantly. You’ve also both become more brazen in your interactions, and neither of you look away now when you catch each other’s eye in the halls. And you’ll both stare dreamily and smile across the cafeteria as he nibbles on pretzels and you mull over a thorny problem in a notebook, chewing on the end of your pencil.

You’ve spoken on the phone again too. For the most part it’s just as… stimulating as the first time, if not more so, and you're both gaining confidence and are able to articulate your needs and desires with increasingly elaborate and creative language. But to your surprise you’ve also ended up chatting too, and more than once you’ve devolved into fits of hysterical giggles. You’ve never been able to be so open with a partner before, and you’re revelling in the intimacy.

But, he’s not your partner partner. You didn’t mean it like that. You’re fully aware of Eddie’s… situation, and you’re pretty sure he’s not ready for any kind of official commitment. You really need to be careful with your language, or you're going to slip up one day and mess up whatever the hell this is…

On the day of your usual Biology class with Eddie, everyone’s milling around the science lab, waiting to get their test results. It’s the final class before the end of the semester, and Mr Clarke knows better than to expect anyone to do any work, so nobody’s in their seats and the room is filled with general murmur and chatter.

A steady stream of students collects their papers from Mr Clarke at his desk. Yours is near the top of the pile - you being you, you’re always one of the first to head up to find out how you did, and generally, the less… academically inclined students hang back until the end, wanting to delay the agony and prolong their blissful ignorance for as long as possible. 

Mr Clarke passes you your paper, and you spy a large, red ‘A+’ in the top corner. You pinch your face into a scrunched up smile, and you can feel your cheeks heating. Yes, it’s one of your favourite subjects, but you never want to assume anything.

“No surprises there!”, Mr Clarke jokes, as you proudly yet somewhat bashfully look over your work as you head back to your desk.

You’re dying to know how Eddie did, but presume he’s going to wait it out like the other ‘cool kids’, and you don’t really want to rub your success in his face in case it didn’t go well for him, so you slide back into your seat without looking in his direction.

A few moments later, there’s a sudden loud whoop from the front of the class. Everyone turns to face the clamour, and to your surprise you see Eddie standing next to Mr Clarke’s desk, arms aloft and eyes wide, grinning as he shakes his paper above his head like a Tusken Raider.

Wait, did you just make a nerd reference? What the fuck is this guy doing to you?

You try not to stare as Eddie’s gesticulations make his torn Iron Maiden shirt ride up to expose the smooth planes of his abdomen and the dark sprinkling of hair leading down beneath his waistb— You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, this feat seemingly significantly more difficult for you than passing a science test.

He changes position, hunching over now, and punches the air with one fist, wrinkling his nose and baring his teeth as he stares down at the paper he’s crinkling in the fierce grip of his other hand.

“Yeah! Goddamn B minus! B fuckin’ minus, baby! Wooo!! I am fucking walking that stage, I can feel it!”

A few of your classmates start to clap, and soon most of the class is applauding Eddie, a few even joining in with the whoops and hollers. He bends at the waist and gives a theatrical bow, still grinning, much to the delight of the whole class.

Even Mr Clarke is clapping, ignoring Eddie’s profanity for once and with a broad smile on his face too. Eddie smiles back, extending his hand to the older man, who takes it happily, shaking it and slapping Eddie on his bicep as he says, 

“Congratulations, Mr Munson. I knew you could do it, son.”

Before you’re fully cognisant of what you’re doing, you’re out of your seat and rushing towards Eddie, colliding with his chest with a thump as you fling your arms around his ribs, hugging him tightly. He freezes for a moment, stunned, before his arms move around your shoulders, gripping you tightly, crushing the document even more, before his empty hand flattens over the centre of your back, gently but intensely rubbing up and down.

He drops his chin onto your shoulder, and turns his face so it’s nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a couple of deep, slow inhales, and his warm breath fans out over your skin and trickles down the back of your shirt as he adds a contented hum that almost short-circuits your brain. Quietly, you mumble into his chest, 

“Congratulations, Eddie."

Just as quietly, almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear, Eddie replies, voice slightly cracking,

"I couldn't have done it without you, Princess…”

You remain there at the front of the class, embracing, rocking slightly, neither of you seemingly wanting to let go. Eddie's palm continues to make patterns on your back, and you keep your arms around his middle. The heat from his chest seeps into yours, and you begin to get lost in his heady scent of cigarettes, spicy cologne and weed, something so quintessentially Eddie.

Behind you, you hear Mr Clarke clear his throat, and you and Eddie break apart as he proclaims, 

“Well, I think that proves that the student-to-student tutoring project is a success! Well done, both of you. Okay, who’s next?”

Keen to minimise further attention from your classmates, you both make your way back to your seats. He sits behind his desk, and you pull your stool to face him over it. 

Eddie’s lab partner offers him a fist bump, adding, “Nice work, dude,” to which Eddie reciprocates and replies, “Thanks, man,” before the guy wanders off to chat to his friends across the room.

You and Eddie stare at each other across the workbench. All you seem to be able to do is grin goofily, and you see Eddie’s cheeks pinken to an even darker shade. Eventually, you manage to speak.

“Well done, Eddie. Seriously. I’m so proud of you, all your hard work paid off!”

He glances down at his paper again, seemingly needing to keep checking it to make sure it’s real, that he actually passed. A slightly incredulous look on his face, he replies, chuckling,

“Fuckin’ B minus. Wayne’s gonna wanna frame this shit, I swear!”

You bark out a laugh, before responding,

“You should let him. This is a big moment!”

You both laugh again before Eddie continues, more seriously this time,

“I meant what I said, you know. I couldn’t’ve done this without your help.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. You know I wouldn’t’ve done it if I didn’t want to, though, right?”

“I know, I know. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am, is all…”

His face suddenly drops, and his eyes fall to the tabletop as he says, more quietly,

“Uh… I guess this means we won’t be studying anymore though, right?”

Something twists in your stomach. You hadn’t considered that this might change things. Thoughts roil in your mind. You don’t want whateverthisis with Eddie to end, that’s for certain, and from his tone you surmise that’s not what he wants either. So you make him an offer.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think I could go for at least one more lesson. Call it a celebration! If you wanted to, that is?”

You’ve barely finished your sentence before Eddie’s almost-yelling, 

“Yeah! I mean, yes, if you want to as well, I mean…”

You try to suppress a smile as you reply,

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. I’m free after school, if that’s any good for you?”

Later on, when Eddie gives you a ride to his place, things feel different, and it’s not just the residual adrenalin from this afternoon’s test results. The anticipation is palpable. It’s like you’re both more relaxed, but somehow also more on edge, as if the air itself is charged and your skin is buzzing. You know where you’d like to take things, but you’re not sure how far Eddie will want to go, so you have a vague plan of offering suggestions but ultimately being guided by him.

You sit on the edge of his sofa feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Eddie brings drinks, clearing his throat as he sits stiffly next to you, occasionally glancing in your direction.

“So, uh, what’s the subject for tonight, Teach?”, he says with a nervous chuckle.

“I, uh, thought we could do some revision. Maybe bring everything together, and go over human reproduction?”

You raise your eyebrows as you say the final two words, hoping Eddie might catch your meaning. He gulps, and his cheeks tinge with a blush.

“That’s not a subject I have a great deal of knowledge about. But, you already knew that, right?”

He titters nervously, the pink in his cheeks deepening in intensity.

“Yeah, I know, Eddie. Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal there? I mean, you’re young, fit, good looking. I don’t wanna pry, I’m just curious, I guess?” 

Fuck, really fit. So good looking... Wait, did you just feel butterflies?

Realising your curiosity might have outrun your mouth, you attempt to backtrack.

“You totally don’t have to tell me. God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“No, Princess, it’s fine, really. It’s not like I never, um, had the opportunity. Mostly cheerleaders wanting free weed, or drunk wives or bored moms wanting a bit of illicit fun at The Hideout. For my 18th my dad even arranged a couple of female performers for me. He’s in jail, you knew that, right?” 

You give him what you hope is a sympathetic nod.

“He got a message to a buddy of his, and they turned up after a gig. He instructed me to, uh, take my pick, or have both, if I wanted. So after we’d played, we went backstage, and we talked, and they were really nice ladies, but, uh, it just didn’t feel right somehow. They didn’t say anything afterwards, apart from how I was such a nice boy and if I ever changed my mind I should totally give them a call. And the guys just assumed what had gone on and acted like I was some kind of dog, and I guess I didn’t correct them, and, well, here we are…” 

He’s bashful again, embarrassed at his own apparent reluctance as well as his lack of experience, and you see him picking at the skin around one of his thumbnails. Looking at the floor, he continues,

“I guess I wanted my first time to, I dunno, be a bit more special? Must sound pretty stupid, coming from a hot blooded male, or whatever.”

You both smile as you remember one of your previous conversations and what you’d said. You want to reassure him.

“No, that’s not stupid at all. It’s not just girls who deserve a special first time, you know. Everyone deserves to feel comfortable, and if you haven’t felt that way yet then that’s totally okay. I’m actually proud of you for not feeling pressured into doing something that didn’t feel right.”

He turns his head sideways and looks at you at a quirky angle through his hair, a broad smile threatening to emerge.

“Yeah? Thanks, Princess, that means more than you know.”

You smile back at him, that warmth in your chest spreading throughout your torso. Breaking the moment, Eddie asks, with more than a little trepidation,

“So, what exactly d'you wanna do..?”

Your mind churns with possibilities, and you open your mouth, not entirely certain about what’s going to come out. But before you can say anything, Eddie jumps in.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

He reaches over to the side table next to him and returns with a lightly rolled piece of paper. Unfurling it, he somewhat nervously presents to you.

“You said you wanted a picture. So, I, uh, drew this for you.”

You take it from him and open it fully. It’s an illustration. A human brain, seen from above, one half of it beautifully rendered in graphite pencil and exquisitely shaded and detailed. The ridges and bumps look like you could almost reach out and touch them. This is incredible enough, but what really catches your attention is the other side. It’s a riot of flowers in different types and colours, overlapping and clustered in a formation that perfectly matches the silhouette of the other half. It’s beautiful.

Your hand comes to cover your mouth and you gasp a little. 

“Oh, Eddie, this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen! Did you really do this for me?”

Bashfully, he pulls a strand of hair across his cheek as he replies, 

“Sure did, just for you. I chose the subject for that big, beautiful brain of yours, and then I added the flowers ‘cos, y’know, you’re beautiful. You’ve got it all, Princess.”

Now it’s your turn to feel embarrassed. You really weren’t expecting something so amazing, or to feel like this about it. Or to feel this way about him.

You lift the drawing to look closer at the divine detail, and it’s then that you focus in on the background. It looks like a page from a book, and as you scan the words you see dictionary and thesaurus entries under ‘beauty’, spotting beautiful, beauteous, charming, attractive, lovely, alluring... You’re absolutely stunned.

It’s then that you notice the raw edge on one side of the paper.

Wait. 

“Eddie…” You turn to him, brows furrowing with a mixture of concern and excitement. 

“Tell me you didn’t steal this page from the library!”

“Uh, I may have.” He chuckles lightly. “Hey, it’s not like people use it much. It just seemed so appropriate, and I just, kinda, liberated it for an artistic cause.”

You can’t deny that a vehicle for Eddie’s amazing artwork is likely a far better use for this page than it mouldering away in a dusty school library. And it’s not like you could return it now, anyway. 

Everything about it, from the intentions to the execution, is beautiful. 

You tell Eddie so as you run your fingers over the lines. 

“It’s wonderful, Eddie. I’ll treasure it forever.”

Tearing your eyes away from the art in front of you, you lock eyes with him, and the atmosphere in the room seems to thicken. You’re not sure how Eddie’s feeling, but there’s a quiver in your belly and a heat in your core that’s demanding a significant proportion of your attention. You place the paper carefully down on the coffee table before murmuring quietly,

“Would you like to, uh, do that revision now?”

Eddie shifts in his seat, his cheeks pulling up as he tries to stifle a grin and maintain his composure.

“Okaaaay?”

You shift on the sofa and Eddie can’t help but allow the grin spread across his face. He twists his upper body and turns towards you, and puts one hand beside him on the seat as he drops his chin and peers up at you through his lashes. He looks adorable, a little timid but eager to please, like the world’s cutest puppy, and you let out a quiet giggle.

Coyly, he pulls another strand of hair across his upper lip (he really has to stop doing that) as he broaches,

“Are you gonna test me?”

A sultry smile spreads across your face as you recall the first lesson you had together.

“I taught you a lot of terminology in our first lesson. I wanna see how much you can remember.” 

The tip of your tongue peeks out and teases your upper lip.

You can tell he’s still not sure exactly what you mean, but you help him understand as you shuffle forwards and, perching yourself on the very edge of the sofa cushion, you slowly drift your hands up under your skirt, slip your thumbs into the sides of your underwear, lift your butt slightly and begin to pull them down your legs.

Eddie gets it now, and to your surprise he rushes quickly off the sofa and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“Oh shit, please let me help?”

You smile broadly and allow him to take over. 

His fingertips lightly brush the skin of your thighs. They’re rough, calloused, you presume from years of guitar playing, but the feeling is certainly not unpleasant. You experience a frisson of excitement, imagining how his rough hands might feel running over other parts of you.

He gently hooks your underwear with his fingers and, slowly, continues their descent down your legs. He’s careful, reverent almost, like you’re a porcelain doll and he’s scared you will break. You’ve never been treated with such care before. You feel like a precious jewel, and his nickname for you, Princess, suddenly takes on new significance.

He’s concentrating more now than he has the whole time you’ve been helping him study, seemingly taking in every detail of your thighs, your panties, and, especially, the patch of damp fabric that’s already soaked with your arousal. When his eyes flick up to yours he realises he’s been caught staring, and he gives you a little bashful smile.

He removes your underwear by gently lifting each of your feet. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he quickly pushes the ball of material under the sofa. You don’t let on that he’s not being nearly as subtle about that as he thinks he is. 

Placing one foot on either side of his knees, you part your legs. Then, tantalisingly slowly, you move the hem of your skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist. 

You’ve never seen anyone have a religious experience, but you think the expression on Eddie’s face might come close. His eyes, fixated on your centre, are blown dark and opened wide, and his mouth is slightly open. His eyes are furrowed upwards in that almost-surprised look you like so much, and you see him swallow, hard. 

You feel your cunt clench gently. Yep, you still like him looking at you.

“So… what can you remember, Eddie?”

“I— I—”

You give him a moment, taking the opportunity to drink him in, and watch as his tongue comes out to slowly wet his lips. The edges of his mouth curl in the slightest half-smile, and he huffs out an incredulous breath. He’s close enough to you that you feel it on your inner thighs and core. He looks so good like this, kneeling in front of you. Adoring, pliant, submissive even. Oh, this is new.

You lean forward to lightly hold his wrist, and guide his hand up towards your centre. You can feel him trembling slightly, and remember that this is likely the first time he’s ever touched anyone so intimately.

“Okay, let’s try this a different way. Do you remember what this whole area is called?”

As you ask the question you trace his fingertips lightly across your mound and the soft skin of your inner thighs. You place his open hand against you and curve his fingers to cup you gently, his palm pressing featherlight against your hidden clit and his fingertips nestled in your trimmed pubic hair. He lets out a trembling hum.

“Umm, Volvo. No, wait, vul-va?”

“Yes, that’s so good Eddie.” 

You put on a lilting, singsong voice, letting him know how well he’s doing, and he puffs out another tremulous breath.

You hold his first two digits and direct him to curl the rest out of the way. You guide his fingertips between your folds, and they glide easily through your silky wetness.

“Okay, what about this part?”

Eddie lets out a long, low sigh, and swallows deeply. He’s completely fixated on what he can see and feel. You slide his fingers up and down your soaked slit a couple of times, and Eddie’s jaw drops open further.

“Eddie, are you still with me? Can you remember what these are called?”

“Huh? Uh, l— lips, I think?”

“Good enough.”

You smirk at him, though he doesn’t notice, he’s clearly far too focussed on where his fingers are to care about anything else. You revel in the attention. No one else has ever been this gentle with you, this adoring, attentive, tender. And he’s fucking mesmerised. It’s a far cry from the back-seat fumbles and quick pokes in study rooms that you’re used to. You’re definitely not going to be able to go back to that now.

Desperate for Eddie to touch more of you, you continue his education.

“Next, I want you to find my clitoris. Do you think you can do that?”

You let go of his fingers and settle back onto the sofa on your elbows, processing Eddie’s shocked and nervous expression as he glances up to your face.

“You, uh, want me to do this by myself?”

“Yes, I trust you. If it hurts, or you’re way off, I promise I’ll help. But I think it would be good for you to try. Also, I want to see if you can work out when you’ve got it without me having to tell you.”

His brow furrows very slightly at this; he doesn’t seem convinced that this is possible, but you’re in front of him, spread and waiting, so who is he to question it. He moves his wet fingertips slowly through your folds, gliding easily, studying his path but also flicking his eyes up to your face episodically. You close your eyes and hum, enjoying the sensation. 

As he moves further up you can feel a growing uncertainty in his movements, but just as you think he’s about to give up or ask for help, one of his calloused fingertips glances the side of your clit, causing you to inhale sharply as your eyes spring open.

He freezes, terrified he’s done something wrong or hurt you, but you smile down at him and reassure him,

“That’s so close, you’re almost there.”

He smiles, confidence buoyed, and you notice he’s watching your face now as he moves his fingers experimentally. One sideways movement has a rough fingertip connecting perfectly with your sensitive nub, and you let out an abrupt whine.

Eddie presses a little harder, testing, his mouth still open and the tip of his tongue teasing his front teeth.

You moan, loudly, and your head tips back and connects with the cushions of the sofa.

Boldly, Eddie begins to move his fingers, up and down to start with, which makes you hum with contentment. But when, unbidden, he then starts to draw tiny circles around his newly-discovered treasure, your whines turn to full-on moans.

“Is this it? Am I getting it, Princess?”

You glance down at him again, at that beautiful face now adorned with a smirk that seems to be a mix of experimentation and new-found cockiness. Breathlessly, but smiling, you manage, 

“Yeah, you’re definitely getting it.”

And you let out another long moan as he continues to trace those tiny patterns. You could definitely lose it from this alone, but you want to teach him a little more.

“I want you to do something else as well. Do you remember where my vagina is?”

“Uh, I think so.”

Eddie swallows, as he moves his other hand up towards your centre. He pauses, and, looking from your face to your cunt again, he begins to slowly push one fingertip between your wet folds.

You wince as you feel a slight discomfort, and offer, helpfully, 

“Try going a little lower.”

“Oh, okay, sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry, Eddie, nobody gets it on their first tr— ah!” 

He’s definitely getting it.

You want to reassure him even more, tell him that this is the best you’ve ever felt when anyone’s touched you, but the words dissolve as his index finger easily breaches your sopping hole.

You sigh and close your eyes, enjoying the subtle stretch and finally having some part of him inside of you. But Eddie’s stilled, and you realise he needs more guidance. 

“You can go in further, if you want?”

That’s seemingly all the encouragement he needs, as he pushes further, all the way to his ringed knuckle, and you feel the knobbled metal against your lips. He closes his eyes and begins babbling,

“Oh, g-god, you feel so good. You’re like silk, like velvet. You’re so fucking warm, and so goddamn wet, Jeezus!”

You allow you both to enjoy the moment, before deciding to put your musician’s fingers theory to the test.

“Can I give you some more instructions, Eddie?”

He looks up at you, blinking, seeming to come back to himself.

“Yes! Tell me what you want. Please tell me what to do to make you feel good. I’ll do it, I’ll do all of it.”

Oh, this is gonna be fun…

“Okay, add another fing— Oh fuck, that’s it! Shit, that feels so nice.”

Your hips buck forwards as Eddie slides his middle finger in to join the first, pushing them deep and coating his rings in your abundant slick. He lets out a shuddering hum as your walls clench gently around him and you gasp at the sense of increasing fullness.

“Okay, keep your hand so your palm is upwards. That’s it, I know it’s a little uncomfortable but I promise it’s worth it. Now curl your fingers, like you’re beckoning me. Just gently, not too fa-ah— Oh fuck!”

Eddie’s deft fingertips brush that most sensitive spot inside of you, and your legs tense as your back arches off the sofa. You reach down to grab his wrist. You chuckle, smiling down at him. 

“Okay, stop, just for a moment, otherwise I’m not gonna be able to speak. Congratulations, you just found my g-spot.”

“I— I did?”

He grins, huffing out a breath, and experimentally curls his fingers again, his eyes glued to your face.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” is all you can manage, as your hands move to grip the sofa cushions.

Eddie pauses for a brief moment, glancing down to look at your sodden core, and you take the opportunity to give him one final instruction.

“If you keep doing what you were doing to my clit at the same time, you’re gonna make me cum. Do you wanna do that?”

Eddie’s voice drops almost to a growl as he splutters, the words tumbling out in a rush,

“Oh fuck yes, Princess. Please let me do that!”

He adjusts his position, shuffling closer to you, his eyes scanning between your face and your cunt. You notice the substantial bulge in his pants and how he’s occasionally shifting his hips, bucking them up into the seam of his sinfully tight jeans.

“So… I just keep doing this, and… this?”

He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you, curling them as his rings touch your soaking lips, and continues to draw tiny circles around your clit. His wide eyes meet yours, his level of concentration evident. You nod, smiling, and relax back onto the sofa. You lose yourself in the sensations, enjoying Eddie’s ministrations and letting yourself drift away on a sea of warmth and pleasure.

Before long a familiar pressure builds in your abdomen. You let out a loud sigh and your hips buck forward again of their own accord. You hear Eddie’s breath become louder and more ragged, and his movements speed up, his fingers pumping deeper and the pressure he’s placing on your clit increasing just a fraction. It’s enough to start sparks flying along your nerves and have your back arching and your thighs trembling.

You start groaning, almost letting go before you realise you should probably give Eddie some warning.

“Shit, I’m so close. Don’t stop, dontfuckingstop, ohshitohshitohshii—”

The universe stops. Time ceases to exist. Your vision goes black before being filled with a million tiny stars, and a supernova of euphoria erupts from your core and spreads throughout your entire body. You think you hear yourself moaning, possibly Eddie as well, but the sounds seem so far away. 

You don’t notice that you’ve arched your back even further until you regain some sense of reality and realise the top of your head is now against the back of the sofa. Gradually, feeling comes back into the rest of your body, a bone-deep warmth suffusing you as your contorted limbs gradually return to their usual positions.

Your vision finally comes back into focus, and you glance down to see Eddie staring at you, wide-mouthed and somewhat stunned. Propping yourself up on the heels of your hands, you grin as you comment, voice syrupy and possibly a little slurred,

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re good at that. Screw the B minus, you definitely deserve an A plus!”

He gives you a lopsided grin, one dimple popping, and chuckles lightly as, watching your centre, he begins to slowly withdraw himself from you. Your body seems to have other ideas, as your walls clench around his fingers and a small aftershock makes you tremble. It definitely doesn’t want to let him go.

He pauses as he examines his soaked digits, moving them apart and studying your slick as it covers his palm and runs over his knuckles. You think you spot a minuscule drop of his jaw as his hand twitches, but then he stops himself. You’re slightly nervous that you may have misread his movements, but you decide to be bold anyway.

“Do you wanna taste me?”

His eyes snap to yours. They’re wide, like a kid that’s been caught trying to steal cookies. Sitting up a little, you gently take hold of his wrist and move his hand closer to his mouth, giving him permission. His eyes don’t leave yours as he drops his jaw, lolls out his tongue and pushes his sodden fingers into his mouth. Only when his lips reach his knuckles does his gaze falter. His eyes flicker closed and he hums loudly, licking and sucking, cleaning up every speck. He eventually pulls them out, mumbling low,

“Christ, you taste so good.”

You heat at the praise; no one’s ever told you that before. Feeling bold again, you continue,

“You wanna taste me properly one day? Put your mouth on me? I gotta admit I’m keen to see what else you can do with that tongue…”

Eddie gulps audibly as he shuffles forwards and grabs hold of your knees, looking like he’s kneeling at an altar. The altar of you.

“Oh holy shit, please let me do that. God, I wanna get my tongue inside you so bad.”

He’s practically drooling, and the sight of him literally on his knees and begging to taste your cunt has you clenching all over again. But as much as you want that (and you really, really want that), there’s now an aching need inside you that only something larger can satisfy. If Eddie’s willing to give it to you. Keen to bookmark this for another time, you proffer,

“Whaddaya say we make that a whole lesson all to itself?”

He grins at you, seemingly pleased with this proposal.

Eddie rests back on his heels and places his hands in his lap. He’s not ushering you to leave, which is good, but he seems a little unsure of himself. Conscious of how exposed you still are, you start to straighten yourself up, lowering your skirt and checking your hair in case the sofa cushions have done a number on it. 

You have no idea what the protocol is for this situation. You’re aware that there’s likely an issue in his pants that could use some attention, but you’re not sure how to broach it. You know what you’d like to do, but are suddenly nervous and can’t look at him, and start fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He seems to be having the same dilemma, as he asks,

“So, what do we do now?”

He could be expecting a suggestion like watching a movie, or ordering pizza. But you decide to ask for what you want, whilst also giving him an out just in case this is too sudden. You fiddle with your hem again and catch his gaze as you blather,

“Well, I know we’ve kinda talked about this before, maybe not as much as we could have. But I, uh— I’d really like to, um, have you inside of me. If you wanted to. An— and it doesn’t actually have to be now, or even soon. We can totally go at your pace, and I realise I’m asking to be your first, but—”

He cuts you off with a single syllable. 

“Yes.” 

It’s the shortest sentence you’ve ever heard him utter. And in this moment it’s the most beautiful. His face is almost blank, completely serious with an edge of hopefulness etched in his brows. Your chest fills with pride and gratitude. He really does trust you enough to want to do this with you. But what happens next is a surprise. 

“Umm… would now be okay?”

You grin broadly. 

“Uh, no, not at all. Shall we, um… take this to your bedroom?”

He smiles softly before breaking out into a wide but bashful grin.

He stands and, offering his hands, helps you to get up. Eddie makes sure you’re okay to move and, at a pace you can cope with on your shaky legs, gently leads you across the trailer and down the narrow corridor to his bedroom, repeatedly looking at you with an incredulously dopey look.

He pauses with his palm against the door. Looking at you ruefully through his lashes, he warns you, quietly,

“Just so you know, it’s a mess in here.”

You reassure him,

“I don’t mind. Frankly, so long as you’re not storing a rotting corpse or running a meth lab, I couldn’t care less.”

He swings the door open and leads you inside. You step through and take a brief moment to glance around the room, noticing the posters on the walls, piles of clothes, D&D paraphernalia and various bits of band equipment. It’s almost exactly as you’d pictured it. 

Standing in the middle of the carpet, he turns to face you, holding one of your hands in his and fiddling with your fingers. His hesitancy is adorable.

“Soooo… What do we do first?”

You take both of his hands in yours, squeezing them lightly, and through a soft smile you say airily,

“Well, it’s usually customary to do a little kissing. I know you know how to do that, because…”

Your cheeks heat as you remember your library lesson. Eddie’s throat bobs as he swallows, and his gaze flits around your face, settling on your lips as he tries, and fails, to get his breathing under control. 

You gently place his hands at your waist and then loop your arms around his neck, finally getting to sink your fingers into his long, luscious locks. They’re much softer than you thought they’d be, and you feel him tremble as you lightly drag your fingertips across his scalp.

You step towards him and slowly lean in, moving your face closer to his, pulling Eddie ever so slightly to indicate that he should do the same. There’s the briefest of pauses as your lips hover, your breaths mingling, before you both close the minuscule gap.

It’s a little uncoordinated, you two never having done this standing up before, but none of that matters as your mouths connect. Eddie’s lips are soft and pillowy, and the feeling of his hands on your waist, his mouth against yours and that familiar faint vanilla scent completely invade your senses. He has a hint of a five o’clock shadow, and you feel his scruff scratch softly against the sensitive skin of your face. You know it’s going to leave you red and puffy, and you relish being able to take a reminder of this away with you. 

It’s chaste yet passionate as your lips meld and release and find a rhythm. You muss his hair and he hums, and the ache between your legs grows vivid again. You press your front against his, and he breaks your kiss with a soft,

“Oh!”

Wow, he really does want this. A whole lot. You nudge against him again, relishing the firmness you can feel in the front of his jeans. The seam of his zipper only adds to the sensation, and you feel his obvious and substantial erection swell and kick towards you through the stiff fabric. You’ve never wanted anything more in your entire life, but for Eddie’s sake you’re determined to take it slow.

Okay, maybe not that slow. You thumb at the hem of his shirt, and with what you hope is a cute pout, ask,

“Can we take this off?”

He grins, dimples popping adorably, and takes half a step back. You think your own smile might rival his as you grasp the bottom of his shirt and peel it up and over his head. Not teasing, not rushing, the speed is just right, and you bite your lip when his arms lift and his hair fluffs, and you drop the garment to the floor.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way it affects you. Eddie catches you staring, and for a brief moment you worry that he’s self conscious, or nervous of your opinion of his physicality. But instead, in a cheeky show of burgeoning confidence, that you hope is somewhat down to you, he murmurs,

“Do you… like what you see, Princess?”

Your eyes continue to scan his chest as you hum in approval.

“Oh yes, definitely…”

You bring one of your hands up and run the tips of your fingers over the tattoos on his pec. Eddie shivers and inhales a shaky breath, and then whines a little as you flatten your hand over the muscle.

Your other hand traces up his waist and abs, making him stutter out a bashful giggle as you hit a ticklish spot, until both hands come to rest on the upper part of his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath your palms. You look over his torso, his shoulders and throat, before your gaze flicks over his lips and reaches his eyes again.

“I meant what I said before, you know. You’re really pretty. Has anyone else ever told you that?”

“Uh, nope. No, they haven’t. But from you, I believe it.”

You smile softly at him, and run your hands over his collarbones and down the sides of his pecs. Experimentally, you allow the pads of your thumbs to gently skim his nipples. He hisses in a breath, and his responsiveness increases the throb in your core.

You let your hands travel lower, and they come to rest at his belt line. You can’t help but salivate at what you know is beneath as you work his belt buckle open, and then his button. You look up and smile at him as you pull gently on his zipper, lowering it, and he smiles back, shaking his head almost imperceptibly as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. 

You hook your thumbs over his waistband and start to tug. He helps, easing the fabric over the soft swell of his ass as you pull his jeans down until you’re crouching on the floor before him. He sighs as his member is released from its denim confines, tenting obnoxiously in his briefs, and you miss the fond smile he gives you, accompanied by another imperceptible head shake, as you concentrate on freeing his feet.

Once he’s standing in just his boxers, you rise and sit on the edge of his bed, gently pulling on his hands and guiding him to sit next to you. You swivel to face each other, fingers still linked. The two of you somehow manage to make some of the most innocent of gestures seem the most intimate, and there’s a peculiar moment of bashfulness between you. You huff through your noses, chuckling, and you can see Eddie’s cheeks have pinkened again as he looks down at your joined hands, fingers intertwined.

Finally, his gaze meets yours again, and his face is suddenly serious. His eyes flit to your lips, and you take this as your cue to lean forward.

Your noses bump, and initially neither of you are sure which way to turn your head. It’s awkward and sweet and adorable, but when your lips finally connect all of that melts away. You soon both get into your stride, and it’s even hotter than it was in the library. You don’t have to worry about noise, or getting caught, and there’s no time limit - this time you can do this for as long as you want, and the thought of it fills you with a warm sensation that you can’t quite identify.

Eddie’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, and as you run the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip his mouth opens instantly, allowing you access to him and he to you. Without hesitation he plunges his tongue into your mouth, and deftly swirls it around your own, moaning as he moves his hand to grasp the back of your head, just like he did in the library. It’s messy and hot, and with no fear of being discovered you're both much more vocal, sighing and moaning as you move against one another. Eddie’s free hand comes to rest gently on your waist, but you can tell he’s tense and holding back. You don’t want him, or you, to hold back anymore. 

You break the kiss and look at him. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, and his lips are parted, reddened and glossy with your shared spit. In one swift motion you twist, lift one leg, and position yourself astride Eddie’s thighs. Then, to his complete surprise, you teasingly fiddle with your hem for a moment before lifting your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra. You chose it especially, the delicate lace cups leaving your nipples visible through the sheer fabric.

Eddie’s eyes widen and his jaw goes slack and he’s just… staring, like he’s seeing colour for the first time. You allow him to look at you for a little while, and his awestruck, hungry gaze is almost as effective as his touch for increasing the arousal at your core. You run your hands down his arms until you reach his wrists, which you lift gently, bringing his hands towards your chest. Eddie realises what’s about to happen, and quietly mutters,

“Oh, fuck…”

You guide his hands and his palms are hot as you place them over your flesh, and the heat between your bodies increases as Eddie huffs out an open-mouthed,

“Haaaaaaah.”

His eyes are fixed on your breasts, and he seems momentarily frozen in place. He swallows again, but before you can offer words of encouragement his eyes flick up to yours, an almost pleading look on his face. You nod carefully, slowly, hoping to convey your meaning: go ahead.

You’re successful, and you moan with delight as Eddie’s gaze drops again and he begins to squeeze and mould your heaving bosom like he wants to memorise every curve, every feature. He pushes them together slightly, then up, then apart, all the while massaging them gently with his palms and fingertips. At one point he accidentally grazes your slowly hardening nipples, and it causes both of you to let out startled whines.

He’s humming involuntarily, and more than once you feel his hips roll upwards, positioning the substantial tent in his boxers closer to where you need him. You drift your eyes up towards his pillows as you ask,

“Shall we… get a little more comfortable?”

His nod is swift and it bounces his curls as he immediately begins to shift position. You stand as he shuffles to the centre of his bed and flops down, his hair splaying out over his pillow and his hands clutching mindlessly at the comforter, perhaps to ground himself.

You manoeuvre so your thighs are astride his, your naked cunt not quite touching him and shielded only by the drape of your skirt. You wonder whether Eddie might be catching the scent of your arousal. He’s staring at your chest again, and you surmise he’s got a better view now, with more space between you and the light from the window illuminating you from the side.

His eyes rove your form, and you can’t wait to see what happens when he views a real pair of actual tits for the first time. Locking your gaze on his face, you reach behind you and unfasten your bra. The small jolt as you undo the clasp makes Eddie jump slightly, and his eyes flash up to your face, his eyes saying, is this really happening?

You cover yourself with one arm and slowly slip the straps of your bra off your shoulders before performing a dramatic reveal, dropping the lace to your lap and then sweeping the flimsy garment off the bed and onto the floor.

Eddie’s eyes widen to the point where you think they might leave his skull, and his jaw drops and retracts a couple of times. A strangled sort of noise leaves his throat, and it sounds a little like he’s being gently choked. You check in with him.

“Eddie? Are you okay? Are you… still breathing?”

He inhales, loudly. Nope, he’d definitely stopped breathing. His arms lift a little and his hands hover over the bedsheets. His eyes haven’t left your chest, and you let him know that whatever he wants to do, you’re okay with.

“You can touch them, if you want?”

Eddie huffs out a long exhale, and the warmth of his breath fanning over your sensitive skin brings your nipples to hardened peaks. His fingertips tentatively brush at the sides of your breasts as his thumbs trace the undersides. It’s like he’s examining a precious artifact, and it’s the most reverence anyone’s ever shown your tits, or any part of you. You hear yourself gasp as your centre spasms.

This gives Eddie a little confidence, and he moves to cup your flesh in his hands, his fingers squeezing lightly. This time though, he’s looking at your face, assessing your reaction, seeing how he’s doing. You very much appreciate that he’s ensuring he’s not hurting you, or making an ass of himself, but it’s actually quite the opposite. You let out a tiny moan, and gift him with a louder one when the pads of his thumbs graze your peaked nipples. He does it again, with more intent. The combination of the roughness and heat of his skin feels wonderful.

Unbidden, he brings his forefingers and thumbs together on one side, and pinches lightly. Your abrupt groan surprises both of you, but in a delightful way. He does it again, to both nipples this time, and you groan again as your belly clenches and you involuntarily roll your hips over his thighs, the heat in your core intensifying. 

You let him play for a while, enjoying how he moans and swallows and moulds your flesh. His hands feel so good you’re reluctant to pull them away, but eventually you do, softly placing his arms beside him on the bed as you murmur,

“It’s my turn to touch you now.”

His nervous expression quickly dissipates as you gently lay your hands onto his chest. He’s so beautiful, like an alabaster statue, and he’s warm and responsive to your touch. You run your hands lightly all over his torso, tracing the planes, dips and curves of his musculature, and the designs of his tattoos. It’s simple, almost reverential, though the increased heat in your centre and the breaths stuttering beneath the pretty pink bloom flushing over Eddie’s skin suggest your touch is anything but holy.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to investigate for what feels like a very long time, and you’re delighted that you’ve finally got the opportunity. You run your palms over Eddie’s chest again, but this time allowing your fingertips to skim over his nipples. 

He twitches beneath you, almost flinching at the sensation, but from the gasp he inhales and holds you don’t think this was from discomfort. You repeat the action. His flesh feels soft and velvety, and they’re smaller than yours, but seemingly just as sensitive, and you hear him whimper as they peak beneath your touch. You had no idea a guy’s nipples could react like this, your previous partners never giving them any consideration or allowing you to explore like this. Eddie’s stuttering breaths and the way he’s trembling make you think they were missing out on something really special.

You draw tiny circles around each nipple with the pads of your forefingers, and you feel the bedsheets shift under you as Eddie grips them in his fists. Bravely, you experiment, and you move your thumbs to join your fingers, Eddie’s flesh between them. With the lightest amount of pressure you pinch, just a little, and release quickly.

Something guttural leaves Eddie’s chest, and his breath comes out in a rush. Buoyed by this, you squeeze again, with more pressure and for longer, and this time Eddie’s groan is accompanied by an upwards buck of his hips into the empty air in front of yours.

This is new, and you like it very much. From the deepening pink tinge appearing across Eddie’s cheeks and torso, you think he’s liking it too. You squeeze once more, and release. Leaning forwards and sticking out your tongue, you lick at one of Eddie’s peaked buds before delicately clamping down with your teeth and sucking gently, moaning quietly at the sensation of his delicate flesh in your mouth.

Above you, Eddie splutters,

“Shit! Oh shit! Hnnn!”

Oh yeah, those other guys were definitely missing out.

You decide it’s time for him to experience yours up close too. You lean forwards, bracing your arms either side of his head, the swell of your tits now hovering above his face. His gaze flicks between them a few times before flashing up to yours. You give him a soft smile and nod your head, and he hums as he slides his hands up over your waist, up your sides and over the warm flesh again. 

He moulds them in his hands, making you moan, and to make it all the more obvious what you want him to do you shift so one of your nipples is positioned directly above his mouth. He takes the hint and flicks out his tongue, just grazing your peaked bud at first before gaining in confidence and taking it fully into his mouth, sucking gently at first and then flicking his tongue over it.

You feel a jolt head from your nipple up to your jaw that ignites the entire side of your face with static electricity as another journeys to your core. You let out an involuntary groan, and, buoyed by this, Eddie suckles harder, simultaneously running his thumb over your other nipple. You moan again, your hips rolling over his thighs in search of friction. Shifting beneath you, he pops off one breast and latches on to the other, giving it equal attention and, daringly, pinching the first between his fingers. It’s intense, and glorious, and that electric spark is back, heading directly between your thighs. This is definitely something that’s never happened before.

He unlatches, and you’re a gasping, breathy mess as you move down to kiss him. He lunges up a few centimetres to meet you, and as you deepen the kiss your nipples brush against his chest. He whimpers, and grabs the back of your neck with one hand and between your shoulder blades with the other, pulling you down so your chests meet. You drop your elbows down onto the mattress to get closer to him, and rake your hands through his hair, grasping it and pulling at the roots gently as your hands ball into fists.

There’s no more reverence or holding back now, and your kiss is messy, wet and noisy as Eddie holds you to him, squeezing you together and shoving his tongue seemingly as far down your throat as he can. Your tits are squashed between you, and the pressure of his heated chest against yours is divine. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, and you can’t quite believe you’re having this effect on each other. You feel the stiff length of him pressing into your abdomen, and he feels so, so ready for this.

You hum as you kiss him for a while longer, feeling his length kick up between you and the dampness between your legs increase. You break the kiss and sit up, smirking at Eddie’s blissed out face and reddened, kiss-bitten lips. Watching him watch you, you open the side fastening of your skirt and peel it off, discarding it to one side, leaving you fully bare on top of him. His face is almost unreadable, such a mixture of emotions passing over it, but you think he might be a combination of reverent, horny and amazed.

You move yourself further up his thighs, finally settling your hips flush across his, settling down close to the substantial wet patch that’s been made by his leaking tip. Your naked centre sticks to the damp fabric as you drag it across his boxer-covered crotch. Ordinarily you’d be embarrassed at making a mess, but something tells you Eddie won’t care.

You were right. There’s no resistance from him, and he groans beneath you as you feel his hefty bulge press against your folds. His hands grip the bedsheets again as he mumbles out in a low breath,

“Oh my god, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

His tone and his words only get you wetter, and you can’t help but roll your hips slightly over him, earning you another groan.

You don’t want to waste your slick on this fabric, and rise up onto your knees. With a playful snap of his waistband, you urge,

“Take these off.”

Eddie shuffles beneath you as quickly as he’s able, There’s the rustle of cotton and you look down in time to witness the slap of his hard member against his stomach. His cock’s flushed a deep pink, almost magenta, is more swollen than you’ve ever seen it, and is already drenched and glistening with precum. It smears across his happy trail as he shifts until, moments later, he’s naked beneath you. 

Still kneeling up, your cunt hovers over his bare form. His eyes scan your whole body, from your eyes to your tits, all over your torso, the soft hair covering your cunt, back up to your eyes again. Bravely, you think, he places his hands on your thighs, and you feel them tremble a little as he rubs and strokes gently. 

Slowly, you lower your hips. You feel your pubic hair brush first, before your warm lips make contact with his shaft and your most personal areas touch for the first time.

Eddie’s brows furrow as the slick warmth of you settles onto him, and his abs tense as he breathes out, low,

“Oh, shiiiiit.”

You’re both still for a beat before you brace yourself, palms placed flat on his chest, and begin to rock your hips, just gently, getting you both used to the sensation of having him pressed against your folds. His cock is hard, yet warm and soft, and Eddie huffs out heated breaths through his nose as you slide yourself along him. His hips start to subtly cant beneath you. By the tense look on his face you think it might be involuntary, that he’s holding himself back. 

You move for a little while before one particularly exquisite movement allows his cock to slip between your folds, and his swollen tip unexpectedly nudges your clit. You gasp and curl in on yourself, involuntarily closing your eyes and clenching your fingers, letting out a soft whine. 

Below you, Eddie makes a strangled hnnng sound before his breath hitches and he inhales quickly, his grip on your thighs tightening. 

Worried there’s something wrong, your eyes flash open. You’re relieved to see Eddie seems to be okay, though his eyes are blown even darker and his jaw is softly parted. You glance down at your hands on his chest, and notice a collection of angry-looking red lines where your nails have dug into his flesh. Horrified, you stammer,

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

Echoing your words from your second lesson, he smirks, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and he bounces his eyebrows as he admits,

“It’s okay, I kinda liked it.”

Smiling, you lift your hands to his pecs and lightly drag the nails of your pointer fingers further down his chest and ribs, down to his abs. Eddie moans again, and his hips roll upwards, his cockhead nudging your clit with more pressure and causing you to whine along with him.

Fuck, this feels so good, and he’s not even inside of you yet…

You don’t know how Eddie’s doing, but you can’t take much more of this. Feeling that it’s definitely time for his final lesson, you sit up, resting your palms gently on his belly. You’re feeling really good, but also nervous, which you know makes you verbose, and you can’t help but babble out too many options. 

“Okay, so, I’m more than happy for us to go all the way right now. But if that’s not something you want I’m obviously totally fine with that too. But… Shit. I guess I’m asking, do you still wanna… I mean, how far do you wanna go, really, with me?”

Eddie’s eyes search yours earnestly, and the gentleness of his reply instantly soothes your frayed nerves.

“I want it, Princess. I want to do it… all. With you.”

You smile warmly down at him. It’s the best response you could’ve had. He swallows before gesturing to his nightstand.

“Should I, uh… Should we…?”

You realise he’s asking if he should get a condom, and you’re grateful for his thoughtfulness. But you’ve been considering this, and you have an alternative suggestion. 

“Well… I’m on birth control for a period thing, and I'm pretty sure I’m clean because I’ve never not used a condom. I know you’re clean because, well, y’know. So… if you’re okay with it, we could, uh, do it without?”

He’s looking up at you, wide-eyed and mouth agape. All he can manage is a tiny, squeaked,

“Holy f—. P— please.”

Again, it’s the perfect reply. You’re still slightly incredulous that he’s trusting you to be his first, but you’re also excited to take on such a responsibility. You calm your breathing before kneeling up a little, glancing down and reaching between your legs to take ahold of him. You already knew he has the most exquisite cock you’ve ever encountered, and it somehow looks even more beautiful right now. You grasp him reverently, angling him upwards and dragging him through your folds to gather more of your slick. 

He’s hot and solid in your hand, and flashbacks of everything you’ve done so far flood your mind. Touching yourself as he watched, taking him into your mouth, getting each other off over the phone, your first kiss... It‘s all combined to lead you to this exquisite moment. 

Eddie sighs lightly and lets out a nervous hum, and then both of you hold your breath. You lower yourself a tiny amount, and his tip pushes in a little further as you notch him between your folds. He gasps. You lean over him, and stabilise yourself with your hands either side of his head.

“You ready?”

Eddie’s voice wobbles as he confirms,

“Fuck, yes, Princess. Please f-fuck me.” 

You take a steadying breath, and, keeping your eyes fixed on his, you begin to lower further. His fat head breaches you, and you bite your lip as you feel the stretch of him for the first time. Slowly, so slowly, you slide down, inch by delicious inch. You’re so wet he glides into you easily, although the size of him is something you’ll need to get used to. You relish the sensation of him stretching out your walls as they slowly envelop him.

You pause, and Eddie mumbles your name, barely audible, the hot huff of air filling what little space there is between you. It sounds like a prayer, or perhaps a spell. There’s a moment of silence and absolute stillness, yet it’s weighted, the implications heavy in the humid space between you. You both know how much this means, how things will never be as they were, especially for Eddie. As you slide lower, letting him fill you, his jaw drops further, and his grip on your thighs grows stronger. You sink down until he’s plunged completely inside your warmth, and immerse yourself in the way you’re accommodating him. Your hips finally connect with his, and as you seat him fully inside you already feel him nudging against that spot that he so deftly located earlier. You mumble out a stilted,

“Oh, god.”

It’s followed by a long, deep sigh from Eddie as he mutters,

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck— Ooooooooh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk!”

He’s closed his eyes, and you can feel the tips of his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. You enjoy the moment, savouring how he looks, how he feels. His hair splays out around him on his pillow like a chestnut halo, and his head is tilted back, exposing his broad, thick throat. His eyes flash open again and fix on yours; wide, dark mahogany pools that are somehow simultaneously a million miles away and boring into your very soul. His mouth hangs open in awe, shallow, trembling breaths emanating from his throat. He looks like an angel. 

He strokes your thighs for a moment before his large hands move to settle lightly on your hips. Placing your hands over the backs of his, you stay seated, tilting your hips ever so slightly to push down even deeper onto him. He practically growls,

“Fuck, Princess. You feel so fucking good.”

The growling nature of his voice sends an electric heat straight to your core, and the stretch you feel quickly morphs into a fiery need. You gaze into Eddie’s chocolate orbs as you warn him, 

“I’m gonna move now, okay?”

He swallows in preparation, and you brace your hands on his lower ribs. You tilt your hips, rolling them. It angles him differently inside you, his swollen head hitting harder exactly where you need it. It also brushes your clit against the dark, glossy hair at his base, and your walls spasm as a low moan leaves your chest and you feel Eddie’s cock kick up in response. He mumbles, voice low and lasciviously gravelly,

“Do that again.”

So you do, again and again. You find a rhythm, slow but satisfying as you rock back and forth. Eddie’s jaw drops open again and his lips form a soft ‘o’ as you move above him.

It occurs to you that everything feels subtly different. Of course, you’ve never been treated with such care before, never been brought to a point of such arousal, plus you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want Eddie in this moment. But you swear you can feel the flared edge of his cockhead as it drags against your walls, and every ridge and vein as you move atop him. You’d never previously considered how a lack of barrier might affect things, it always being a hard boundary for you, despite whining and cajoling from previous partners. You’d assumed it was mostly a ‘guy thing’, and you had no idea how it could affect your pleasure. But it’s abundantly obvious now. 

Eddie's lips are pursed, and his grip on your thighs intensifies again as you watch the muscles of his abdomen subtly tense. Perhaps it’s time he became a bit more… involved. You’re sure he can take it, and you know he won’t hurt you.

“You can move too, Eddie. Just do what feels good.”

He‘s tentative at first, tilting his pelvis subtly and pushing up into you with such care, as if he might hurt you, or something might break. It’s incredible, the small movements feel so good, and somehow more intimate and passionate than anything you’ve done with anyone else. You reward him with soft sighs and moans in time with his movements.

Gaining confidence, he begins to move faster, pulling out further and thrusting back in with more vigour. When you join him, moving and rolling your pelvis with larger movements in time with his, your breath coming out in increasingly loud rhythmic gasps and moans, his breathing quickens, his whole body flushes, and you can't help but close your eyes and drop your head back in ecstasy until Eddie’s hands clamp onto your hips and—

“Ohmygod, ooohmyGOD.”

He’s suddenly still.

You open your eyes to check in on him, and see Eddie’s screwed up face, his eyes and mouth twisted shut, his cheeks even redder than before.

“Eddie? Are you okay?”

He babbles, quickly,

“Don’t move Princess, pleasejustdontfuckinmove. This is fuckin’ amazing and I don’t wanna ruin it!”

You want to reassure him that everything he’s doing is perfect.

“I’m close too. It doesn't matter how long this lasts, just that we both enjoy it. And I’m really, really enjoying it. Please, keep moving, Eddie. For me?"

From his beautifully wide eyes and flushed face, this definitely isn’t going to last very much longer, but you mean it, you don’t care. You’re still puffy and sensitive from his earlier ministrations, and you know it won’t be long before you fall apart all over him. You both begin to move again, quickly rebuilding a rhythm. The soft thrusts of his hips keep perfect time with the subtle rolls of yours, the lewd sounds of your mingling juices only adding to your mutual enjoyment. 

Eddie lets out little uhs and ahs in time with your movements and you adore that you’re having such an effect on him. After a particularly deep thrust followed by a vociferous grunt, he grits out, through clenched teeth,

“Does it— Christ— Does it always feel this good?”

You reply, truthfully,

“Honestly? It’s never been this good.”

He stutters out a high-pitched chuckle as he confirms,

“Holy shit, I’m in fucking heaven!”

You lunge forwards to kiss him again, brushing your nipples against his chest as you slip your tongue between his eager lips. Once again Eddie’s hand grips the back of your head and he moans loudly as his tongue plunges into your mouth. You feel the warmth of a broad palm against your lower back as he pulls you flush with his chest. The shift in position arches your back, subtly changing the angle and spreading your centre even further. 

All too soon, Eddie’s thrusts become faster and less controlled, and you match his pace, rolling your hips and pushing down onto him with increased vigour. You break apart and move up just enough so he’s in focus, wanting to see him at this perfect moment. His eyes are glazed and seem to only be half-focussing on yours, and there's a tell-tale furrow in his brow. You wonder aloud,

“You gonna cum? I wanna feel you. Let go, please.”

His hips seem to take on a life of their own now he’s not holding back. His thrusts become more fervent, and his swollen member pummels that spot inside you. You feel his pelvis slam against your clit with every stroke, and your own release careens towards you, spots of light beginning to appear in your vision and the warmth in your core reaching a heated crescendo.

With a deep, rumbling groan, easily the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard, his final thrust pushes him even deeper and his cock begins to pulse inside you. You’ve never felt anyone’s release before, and the divine sensation makes you jam your hips down, triggering your own release, and you throw your head back in ecstasy, emitting a disjointed high-pitched whine. There's more low moans from Eddie as you clench around his still-pulsing member, and you barely register the bruising grip as he digs his fingertips into your hips. 

Eventually your movements still and, spent, you pitch forward on failing arms and collapse onto his chest, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck. After a moment he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and nuzzling into your hairline.

There’s a minute of stillness, and you revel in the post-orgasmic haze. Your cunt spasms with aftershocks, eliciting contented hums from deep within Eddie’s chest. You’re warm, satisfied and feel cosy and safe with his arms wrapped around you, and you wonder whether he’s feeling the same. You hum into his skin as he traces one hand over your shoulders and back. It’s bliss.

Eventually, Eddie chuckles lightly as he mutters,

“Fuck, Princess. That was… I, um… Fuck.”

He snorts a truncated laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his curls bouncing on the pillow as his head shifts to look at you. All you can manage is a dopey grin as you reply,

“Yeah. Fuck.”

You chuckle in unison, shifting until your noses touch, both tilting your chins until your lips connect in a series of soft pecks.

You’re a little nervous to ask, but something in you has to know.

“How did it feel? Fucking for the first time?”

“Shit, it was goddamn heaven, I swear! Although technically, I think you did most of the actual fucking.”

“Oh no, you did absolutely your fair share! But we can change that, if you’d like. Are you up for doing most of the fucking another time?”

Eddie’s eyebrows snap up his forehead and he looks straight at you with surprise, and just a little disbelief. 

“You, uh, want there to be a next time…?”

You roll your lips together and consider your words carefully before replying. He really has no idea how good this was for you, or that he’s already so much better than literally every guy you’ve ever slept with. But you don’t want to stroke his ego too much, at least, not just yet. You hum and fake a look of disinterest.

“Well, I guess I could make time in my schedule, to, y’know, give you a few more lessons. Purely for your benefit, of course.”

His jaw drops in faux shock.

“Hey, I know I’m not exactly an expert, but if I’m reading this right you seemed to enjoy yourself.”

You can’t keep a straight face and burst into giggles, and Eddie follows you, his fingers snaking to your waist and easily finding your ticklish spots. You huff and wriggle, but make no real attempt to disengage yourself from his grasp. If anything, you end up more entangled, and from the contented sounds that emanate from you both, it’s not something either of you mind.

You lay together for a few moments, enjoying the peace and your shared heat. But eventually your hips start to ache, and with a groan of discomfort, and more than a little reluctance, you slowly start to move. His mostly-soft cock slips out easily, and as you roll off of him you feel your combined juices run out of you, dribbling over his abdomen and coating the inside of your thighs.

You sigh as you wriggle yourself into the crook of his arm, and lay your palm on his chest, tracing lazily up and down with your fingers.

You figure Eddie must feel the cooling stickiness, because he starts to move and asks,

“Umm… Do I— Uh… Should I…? D’you need anything?”

You keep it simple.

“Umm, something to clean up with would be nice. And could I, maybe, get some water?”

The mere fact that he’s asked the question already puts him leagues above others, but you’re briefly concerned that Eddie will see this as annoying, or demanding. To your relief, he seems entirely unfazed. 

“Sure thing. You get comfy here and I’ll just be a minute.”

He wriggles sideways and backs off the bed, his beautiful grin lighting up his glowing face. His hair’s a dishevelled mess, his torso is still tinged pink and the scratches you left on his chest are an angry red, but you’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. Unable to break your gaze, he doesn’t turn until he’s already partly through the doorway. It’s sweet, and lovely, but as he leaves you’re almost sad that he didn’t turn sooner, as you’re treated to the glorious sight of his pert, peachy butt bouncing slightly as he leaves the room.

You swallow, thinking that’s a sight you could definitely get used to, but then chide yourself. He’s obviously happy to do this again, but you have no idea whether he’s… feeling the same way you are. But at that moment you make a decision - you’re absolutely going to broach the subject before you leave. Definitely. 

Probably. 

Maybe...

There’s the sound of running water and minutes later Eddie returns with a warm, damp washcloth and a small towel, and promptly disappears again. You clean yourself up as best you can and then take him at his word and get comfy, wrapping yourself up in his sheets before rolling onto your side and perusing the myriad objects atop his nightstand. There’s a full ashtray, loose keys, a lighter, a couple of rings, an empty pretzel tube, rolling papers, a creased music magazine and a lot of dust. A battered copy of a Tolkien novel catches your eye, and you pick it up and start to flip through it. There’s folded corners and pages marked with scraps of paper, notes and doodles in the margins and words written in runes in Eddie’s messy scrawl. You imagine it must be one of his most treasured possessions.

Just as you’re halfway through deciphering a short runic message, Eddie enters with snacks clasped in his hands and between his teeth. There's water, cold soda, pretzels, potato chips, a bowl with a few grapes in it, and half a bar of chocolate. His soft, but still pretty, cock swings with abandon as he heads towards you and dumps his haul onto the bed in front of you.

It’s all perfect. He’s perfect…

As the final packet leaves his mouth he spots what you have in your hand.

“I brought snacks too, I hope that’s okay. Whatcha got there, Princess?”

You drop the paperback like it’s burned you, blustering,

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“That’s alright, you can look. There’s nothing incriminating in there. Not gonna tell you where that stuff is, mind you."

He pulls a comical face as he flops down onto the bed, the old springs squeaking in protest, and you giggle, thinking about your journal and wondering whether he does indeed have any similarly incriminating stuff anywhere, as you admit,

“I read The Hobbit once. I liked it, but I found the other books too heavy going. Is that awful? Are you gonna throw me out now?”

You wince and add a deliberately over-expansive pout. Eddie’s hair shakes wildly as he responds emphatically,

“Oh, god no! You’d have to do a lot worse than that for me to ever let you go…”

You think he’s just being funny, but then his eyes soften suddenly, and you wonder whether, deep down, he actually means that. Your tummy flutters at the thought. But before you can dwell, his face brightens, and, breaking your thought process, he continues excitedly,

“Maybe I could read them to you sometime? I could explain it as I go. And I promise to skip any really dull parts.”

You smile and nod eagerly in agreement, imagining lazy days spent cuddling with Eddie reading aloud to you as you play with his hair and memorise his tattoos. You can’t pass this moment up, you have to say something. And, in just a minute, you will. You’re almost certain of it.

You sit up and lean back against the wall, and Eddie joins you, pulling his sheets and comforter around you both. You lean in close as you snack on your impromptu and welcome picnic, sometimes feeding each other small morsels, and he makes you giggle as he kisses crumbs from the side of your mouth and fake-bites your fingers. 

Food devoured, you snuggle against him with his arm slung around your shoulders. You bring a finger up to trace his ink, and he hums contentedly as you run your fingertips through his soft chest hair again. 

Okay, girl. Just do it.

Gathering yourself, you take a deep breath, holding it for far too long before the words tumble out of you.

“I’ve really enjoyed this, Eddie. Not just, y’know, this, but also the tutoring, and getting to know you. Shit, I’m probably messing this up so bad. I guess what I’m trying to say is… and I don’t know how you’d feel about this, but… we could carry this on. Properly. If— you wanted to.” 

Eddie stares at you for a moment, before he stammers, 

“We— we could?”  

A goofy smile appears on his face.

Bolstered, you gather your nerve and continue,

“And… I could be more than just your tutor. If you wanted me to be?”

Eddie replies, with a little trepidation, 

“Are you serious? You’d wanna be more than, y’know, this?” 

He gesticulates over both of your pelvises.

“Yeah. I was thinking… Fuck, I hope this isn’t too much. Will you tell me if this is too much? I thought… If you like… I could even, maybe… be your girlfriend?”

Eddie inhales quickly and his chest puffs, you hope with joy, but fucking hell you hope you haven’t overstepped and it’s actually horror.

“If I’d like? Shit, I would absolutely like that. Very, very much...”

He brings one hand up to stroke the side of your head, and then runs it lightly down over your shoulder and the side of your arm. He places a firm, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back, smiling.

You stare into each other’s eyes, the gravity of the moment not lost on either of you. The nervous pit in your stomach is completely dissolved by a warm, honeyed sensation, as you slowly process that Eddie said yes, and that you’ve just snagged yourself the cutest, sweetest, sexiest boyfriend ever. 

You lean in, capturing Eddie’s plush lips in another chaste but oh-so-meaningful kiss. He presses forward to kiss you back, relaxing and heaving out a low sigh before his lips quirk into a devious-looking smirk, failing to hide his mischievous tone as he asks,

“I do have one question. If you’re my girlfriend now, do I still have to wait a whole week before we can do this again?”

You snort at his silliness.

“No, Eddie, you definitely don’t. In fact, what are you doing this weekend? Would you like to come over to my place? I’ve got plenty of ideas for more lessons, and I’m sure there’s lots we can teach each other.”

Eddie growls playfully before enthusiastically agreeing, prying excitedly for details like dates and times and possible activities. Although he seems more than fine with your company, you don’t want to push things too far or outstay your welcome, so when you glance at his bedside clock and see that it’s already way past the time you’d usually leave you turn to him with a resigned huff.

Eddie responds, 

“It’s that time already?”

You give him a glum little nod, and he continues,

“Do you really have to go? I mean, couldn’t you stay a little longer? I’d really like that.”

Smiling, you nuzzle in closer to him. 

“I was kinda hoping you’d say that boyfriend.”

In a surprising display of both strength and newly-found confidence, Eddie pushes your shoulder and flips you onto your back, scattering the empty packets and bowls across the bed and onto the floor. His pretty curls frame his face and tickle your cheeks as he looms over you, and his burgeoning erection feels hot as he presses it into the crease of your thigh.

He leans down, and his beautiful nose brushes yours as he murmurs,

“You know these lessons you’re talking about, Princess. How about we start right now?”

You hum into the kiss he plants on your lips and roll your hips upwards into him, making him moan. But before this particular lesson can go any further, you’re both disturbed by the sounds of the trailer door loudly opening and closing, and the rustle of fabric as someone removes what sounds like a heavy coat.

You and Eddie freeze, eyes wide and locked on each other's. 

“Oh shit, it’s my uncle!”

You gasp, and then both frantically sit up and scramble off the bed to get dressed, nervously giggling and flinging each other’s clothing across the room.

You’re almost done, and in record time too. But as you bend to retrieve a sock, Eddie's treated to the sight of your skirt lifting, revealing your bare cunt, a little of his spend leaking out of you. He’s momentarily struck dumb, and his jaw drops. But another noise outside snaps him back to reality. Stuttering, he mumbles,

“You don’t have any… uh…”

He waves a hand in the vague direction of your lower half, his cheeks reddening as he remembers what he did earlier on with your panties.

“It’s okay, Eddie. After that first time, I thought it would probably be a good idea to keep some spares in my bag.”

Standing, you wink at him. He pulls a thick lock of hair over his cheek, embarrassed, screwing up his eyes and realising he’s been completely and utterly caught. He tries to apologise, his words clipped,

“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

“You know, from anyone else I’d have found it creepy, but from you I find it oddly flattering.”

He grins widely, and is just about to pull you into an embrace when there’s another noise, a gravelly voice this time, 

“Is this paper yours, son? You didn’t steal this from another kid again, did’ya?”

Eddie looks slightly bashful for a moment but there’s no time to dither. It's time to face whoever’s out there. Eddie opens his door and leaves first, beckoning you encouragingly to follow him. Standing in the narrow hallway by the kitchen, you come face to face with Eddie’s uncle for the first time. He’s clutching Eddie’s test paper, and his deep frown, grizzled features and broad frame cut an imposing figure. When he eyes the pair of you, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. 

Eddie speaks first, and addresses his uncle, a little sarcastically,

“Yes, that is indeed my test paper. And I’ll thank you for not looking quite so surprised.” 

The big man’s brows furrow a little deeper, and you can’t tell whether it’s with consternation or amusement, as his gaze flicks between the two of you. Eddie clears his throat and introduces Wayne to you, and tells his uncle your name. You think that’s it, until he straightens up a little, and with a confidence you weren’t expecting he slips an arm around your shoulders. He grips you tightly before adding, with a little nod, as if he’s practicing the words and still convincing himself, 

“And, uh, she’s my girlfriend.”

Oh. You like how it sounds coming from his lips.

Wayne’s forehead crinkles as his bushy eyebrows raise, but before you have time to worry his face splits into a wide grin. He extends a work-grizzled hand and shakes yours powerfully as he says, in a much lighter tone,

“Well, ain’t this the nicest news for this old soul to come home to. It’s a pleasure to meet you, darlin’.”

His voice is warm and kind, and you believe it. Looking between you and his nephew, Wayne adds,

“Do we have the pleasure of your company this evening? You caught us at a good time, I’ve just been huntin’n’gatherin’.”

He gestures towards the kitchen area. You see full bags piled onto the counter, mac’n’cheese boxes, eggs and a few vegetables peeking from the tops, and realise it’s a dinner invitation. You gape a couple of times, far from expecting this level of domestic intimacy, and Eddie seems to pick up on it and answers for the both of you.

“Not tonight. I’m gonna drop this lovely lady back home, and then I’ll come help you chop veggies, ‘kay?”

He sweeps an arm wide, directing you towards his front door, and you pad over to collect the rest of your belongings, careful when you bend so as not to reveal your lack of underwear to anyone who wasn’t expecting it. You clasp Eddie’s divine drawing to your chest, handling it with especial care. Behind you, you hear the two men mutter-whispering, Wayne speaking first.

“Is this the tutor girl you’ve been talking about non-stop these last few weeks? You finally asked her out, huh?”

You can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds,

“Keep your voice down, old man. Um, that’s not exactly how it happened, but yeah, that’s her.”

Eddie looks over to you with a fond smile on his face as you pick up your backpack, and he comes over to you and helps you with your shoes before you leave ahead of him. The last thing you hear before the door closes behind you both is Wayne speaking once more.

“Good for you, son. It’s about damn time!”

Series masterlist General masterlist

Thank you so much for reading! (And for sticking with me through the longest update gap I think I’ve ever had, ILY 🙏💗) This completes our main ‘lessons’, but don’t fret - I have some more Extra Credits planned for these two 😉

If you liked this please, please like, comment and, especially, reblog - it’s the only way fics stay alive, and it means so much to writers to get your reactions and feedback, it’s what keeps us sharing our work 💗💋

“It’s that time already?” is a prompt from @promptsh20, it fitted so well with this section of the story I just had to include it 😊 The “It’s never been this good” lines are adapted from a film, the name of which I’ve now forgotten 🙈, and the “Do that again” was inspired by a Ryan Reynolds line in Green Lantern (if I can’t have him say it to me IRL I’m damn well gonna have Eddie do it in a fic 😛)

I proofed this as much as I could but my brain turned to mush, so if there are any errors or anyone grows an extra limb or something please tell me 🙏😅

Taglist part one: @airen256 @bimbotrashcan @urlbitchin @guiltyasquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons @lokidokieokie @rcailleachcola @fckyeahlames @kurdtbean PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU CHANGE YOUR URL OR DON’T WANT TO BE INCLUDED ANYMORE

[mickandmusings]

indifferent

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: a year ago, the sight of jake seresin would've sent her into a flurry of tears. now, as she stares at him chatting up the bleach-blonde at the bar, all she feels is a deep hatred for the man who charmed the room with his stupid texan accent and encapsulating green eyes.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! seriously, this is actually a lot more smutty than usual for me; this is my first attempt at more serious smut so it's not good but we're trying new things!; angsty yet fluffy; exes to enemies to lovers (these two hate each other); no use of Y/N; sort of mean!jake, but not really; reader is described as wearing a skirt

based on megan moroney's 'indifferent'

-

As she walks into the Hard Deck, she's convinced the universe is doing everything it can to royally fuck her over.

She'd hoped for a nice night with some random but handsome Naval personnel, make him pay for drinks, give him a rather steamy and heavy make out session, and leave before it can go any further. When she enters from the beach side doors, her eyes scan the room for...Brayden? Brandon? Brian? She couldn't really remember the name attached to his Tinder profile, only remembering the beauty of a Bronco in his pictures, but he wasn't important. What was really important was the spine-chilling hate crawling up her chest as she spots the khaki-uniform-clad blonde at the bar.

Jake fucking Seresin.

Her eyes narrow, knowing her night had already soured, and it hadn't even started. She and Jake had a....history, of sorts. By history she meant deep-seeded rage and hatred for one another after a failed relationship. A year ago, she had been in a mutually exclusive relationship with the aforementioned Lieutenant Seresin, well, one she had thought had been mutually exclusive. Until she found herself worrying and fretting every time he went out with his friends. And her gut had been right, because only six months into the relationship she'd had the dreaded 'hey girl, is this your man?' message sitting in her Instagram DM. When he came home that night and had denied it all, vehemently, she might add, it had escalated to a screaming match and her storming out of the house. From that moment on, she hadn't even bothered to check-in on what he was doing in his life. She hated Jake Seresin, and as much as she told herself she was indifferent to what he was doing with the bleach-blonde giggling next to him at the bar, she knew her skin itched to ruin his night.

Instead, she decided to be the bigger person. In her direct line of vision, she found an empty table in the corner and made her way towards it. She had passed the bar successfully, and she was merely inches away from taking her claim on the seat when his southern accent tumbles into her ears.

"Didn't expect to see you here, darlin'."

Fuck me now.

She takes a deep breath before turning around meeting his tall figure. He hadn't changed, still muscular and broad, big green eyes and well-kept blonde hair. She rolls her eyes, tapping her nails against the table nonchalantly. She didn't care about him, and she would not fall victim to his charms-never again.

"What do you want, Seresin?"

His eyes widen, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face as he raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Damn, sweetheart, I'm just sayin' hello."

"Yeah I bet. Hey, Jake. Now, you better scurry back to your girl at the bar before she gets scooped up by one of your little Navy buddies."

He looks back at Coyote's girlfriend he had been casually catching up with, certainly not flirting, but if it riled up the girl in front of him, well, then he'd play into it. Jake shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Not too worried about it, not really interested."

Yeah, I bet.

"So what do you want with me? Because you're not here to play catch up, Seresin."

Jake takes a good look at her, she's obviously here for a date. Her outfit is casual enough for the bar, but accents her curves enough to attract some appeal. Even enough to make his own pants feel tight. Whoever she was here with was one damn lucky man, no matter how jealousy burned at Jake's chest.

"You look good tonight."

She audibly scoffs, rolling her eyes at the compliment.

"If you're here to grovel about what happened, save it. You should've done that a year ago."

Jake bristles, annoyed. Their blow-up fight had been a simple case of misunderstanding. He hadn't been flirting with the girl at the bar that night, he'd been helping her escape a creep who had been following her around the bar. He had to admit, the photo had been a little...compromising, when taken out of context. She'd never even given him a chance to explain himself before blowing it out of the water. They'd both yelled at one another, not bothering to hear either side of the other's statements. She left full of shaking anger, and he hadn't seen her since, until now.

"Maybe I could've groveled if you would've listened to me for two damn minutes."

She swings her head around, her own feelings bristling as she raises her voice.

"Listen to you?! The evidence was pretty damn convincing, Jake!"

He breathes deeply, cutting his green eyes to Phoenix standing at the pool table. The brunette lifts a brow in his direction. Jake knows this is going to escalate quickly, both of their tempers flaring, and for the sake of not ruining his reputation in front of his coworkers, he grips her arm and takes her outside to the parking lot.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!"

As they approach the spot where his truck is parked, he lets go of her and she crosses her arms.

"You're yellin' at me like some kind of crazy in there. My teammates are in there-"

"Oh! God forbid the great Hangman is embarrassed in front of his friends."

She's angry, flaring with an annoyance so great she's blind to what she's saying. Jake, a man known for his ego, seems to flare in the same manner. His voice is biting when he speaks.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"I swear to God, you must get off on the idea of pissing me off!"

They're loud, yelling over one another about trivial things-her being here on a date, him flirting at the bar with another girl, stupid things that didn't amount to much, but nearly anything could fuel the fire between them. Both were still ridiculously attracted to one another, despite everything, and their feelings ran deep. Jake's face is red-between the heat of California and his searing annoyance, he had begun to work up a sweat. Not to mention how incredibly hot she looked when she was pissed. Their voices could not get any louder at one another, spouting off any detail they could think of. Finally, it draws to a head when she spits out her next sentence, her tone biting.

"You know, I fucking hate you, Jake Seresin."

Jake chuckles dryly, no humor lacing his tone.

"That's a harsh claim comin' from the girl givin' me fuck me eyes."

She recoils, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows he's right, despite her annoyance with him, she knows there's still a fire between them, one she tries to swallow despite her blood burning and her heart racing.

"You wish, asshole."

"Yeah, I do."

His response shocks her, his tone softer than before, but his eyes nearly predatory. He can feel his usual roomy uniform grow tight, his jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes dart between his own as they glimmer in the moonlight, and she finds herself unable to find a retort. No worries, Jake's voice oozes with charm and seduction.

"What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden, darlin'? You sure were all talk only a few seconds ago."

"Y-You don't mean that."

Her voice comes out small and unsure, her throat feeling dry and her entire being throbbing with the tingle of desire.

"Don't mean what?"

He comes closer, eyes never falling from her own, his calloused hands coming around her hips. He almost expects her to flinch out of his touch, but she lets him hold her against his own hips. She can see and feel the evidence of his own arousal, the usual light color of his eyes dark with lust.

"You think I'd lie about wantin' you? You're a damn fool if you think that, I've thought about you since the night you ran out my door."

She stills, her heart racing as she manages to form a thought.

"Y-You cheated on me, I'm not falling for this."

She goes to turn from his hold, but his grip on her hips is tight.

"No."

His voice is firm, demanding.

"That ain't what happened. You just never gave me a second to explain it. So I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen, got it?"

His voice was serious, but he was never intimidating or scary. Jake might be an asshole, but he'd never lay a hand on her, not like that.

"I wasn't flirtin' with that girl, never did, not once. That girl asked me to help her, and whoever sent you pictures of us got it all out of context. I might be a dick but I wouldn't do that to you, and I thought you knew that."

She looks at him, conflicted between wanting to jump his bones or punch him square in the jaw. She settles on simply asking a question.

"So why did you never try to call me? O-Or text me to explain?"

"Would you have listened?"

She already knew the answer to that.

"No."

He raises an eyebrow, nodding his head in a knowing look. Both halves of the couple are quiet for a minute, not knowing where to go from here. She's the first to break the silence.

"So, what does this mean?"

Jake shrugs.

"Nothin' if you don't want it to. But if you want me like I want you right now, I'd be okay with that, too."

The heat-filled tension is almost palpable, both of their chests heaving with barely contained want. Jake wants nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and take her in the backseat of his truck, but this isn't his decision. It's hers-she has to decide if he's what she wants.

She cocks her head to the side before looking back up at him.

"And if I do want you like you want me?"

He feels himself twitch in his godforsaken uniform.

"Then you say the word and I'll make you forget whatever little shit you came here to meet."

In all honesty, she already had forgotten about...Bryson? Fuck, she really couldn't remember the poor guy's name.

"I swear to God, Seresin, if you don't touch me I'll lose my fucking mind."

Jake grins, pulling her flush against him.

"Well we can't have that can we, darlin'?"

His lips meet her own with little warning, a frenzy of clashing teeth and fumbling hands. Jake's hands meet on her back dangerously low, before he's placing his palms flat on her ass, pulling her up and her legs wrap around his waist. Her body flames at even the smallest stimulation, and when his hard-on meets her core, she lets out a provocative moan. Jake is going blind with an unbridled, insatiable want, and he wants-no-needs her, now.

"Baby," he grunts as her hips roll into his own. "You gotta stop that or I'm gonna take you right here in this goddamn parkin' lot."

She pulls back from his gaze, giving him a look as she breathes heavily, her lips plump from his fervor.

"When have we ever been above fucking in your back seat?"

Jake shakes his head and slams open the back door of his truck, wasting zero time tossing her lightly against the leather seats. Once, not so long ago, she would've given him shit for his ridiculous truck, but in this moment, with nothing but pure lust in her eyes, she was thankful for his spacious back seats and tinted windows. He slams the door behind him, and effectively clicks the lock attached to his keys before tossing them into the passenger side seat, his hands now free to grasp the supple flesh of her bottom. His lips return to the open plain of her neck, and she sighs, knowing he was headed towards the sweet spot in the junction of her neck and jaw. He finds it within seconds, and she chokes on a gasp. Her hands find purchase in his blonde locks, a lot less soft from the gel, but still comfortable. Jake groans against her collarbone from the sensation alone, his hips subconsciously thrusting to meet against her own. His lips travel down to the exposed top of her chest before he pulls back, tossing his uniform top and undershirt, dog tags dangling down to brush against her skin. He looks down at her with his hands grasping her hips.

"You sure about this?"

She nods, she'd never been more sure.

"I need your words, baby."

God, this man was going to kill her.

"Yeah, I'm sure, Jake."

In one swift move, he's yanking down the skirt on her hips, her undergarments with it. His knee separates her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes alone. He shakes his head and tuts, smiling the infamous Hangman grin.

"As beautiful as the day I lost 'er."

He darts back down between her legs before beginning to ravish her completely. The next long stretch of time is spent with both of them completely lost in one another. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the air, mingling with cries of pleasure, mangled gasps, and the whispers of each other's names. By the time they both fall against one another after their heights, they're panting and sweating, completely sated and exhausted. The air is quiet, only their heavy breaths between them. Jake is the first to speak after a bout of nothingness.

"Who were you here to meet with anyhow? Hard Deck doesn't seem like somewhere you'd come for shits and giggles."

She takes a breath, rolling over to lie on his chest, tucking her head under his chin as his large hand grips her hip, pulling her closer.

"Met some guy on Tinder. Brayden? Bryson? I don't remember, just saw a really nice Bronco in his pictures. Seemed cute enough for a casual Friday night."

Jake's eyes widen, he moves his head to his hand, propping himself up to look down at her.

"Bradley, maybe?"

She shrugs.

"Yeah, maybe, why?"

"He got a mustache, lots of funky patterned shirts?"

She furrows her brow, wondering how he knew.

"Yeah, why?"

Jake groans as he lays back down, running a hand over his face. She giggles, leaning up to prop her head on his chest.

"What?"

Jake grins.

"I can't believe I was about to lose you to Bradshaw of all people."

She listens to him chuckle, but she doesn't return the action. She shakes her head, pushing blonde hair out of his face.

"You won't lose me, not again."

-

[stellamarielu]

sweetheart part 2

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: after finding yourself in a rather compromising position with your boss, you're determined to confront him about his feelings which ultimately leads to the two of you in yet another compromising position.

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, smut, like a lot of smut, low-key praise kink, choking (if you squint), dirty talk because duh, multiple orgasms, a little bit fluffy here and there

author's note: i'm sorry this took so long!! i got a little carried away with this one, oops. also realized while writing this that declan o'hara would for sure manhandle you while simultaneously whispering sweet nothings into your ear

read part 1 here

For the fourth week, you took Declan up on his offer to work late together. Except this time, you weren’t sitting in a stiff office chair, you were sat in a cozy armchair in Declan’s study in his home.

The last seven days at work had been filled with near silence. Neither you nor Declan daring to speak of what happened in his office on Thursday night. One week of awkward eye contact and minimal conversation. 7 days of you both knowing what took place between you but pretending to be oblivious.

You weren’t exactly sure what you expected to happen after the two of you were interrupted that night. Shortly after the phone call that took him away from your compromising position, Declan had abruptly ended the evening. Thanking you for working overtime and telling you to go home and get some rest. Your boss gave you little to no time to process what had just happened, let alone ask for clarification. 

The next morning Declan met you with his usual harmless smile, but his eyes were somewhat apologetic, and from that point on he had kept himself busy and away from you as much as possible. It began to feel like he was blatantly ignoring you and you were growing more annoyed by the day. If he was embarrassed by the whole situation and wanted to put it behind him, fine. But for him to make you feel stupid like this? Leaving you out of important meetings and causing you to miss out on work projects just because of some silly conversation about a smutty romance novel was absurd. Afterall he was the one who brought up the book in the first place. He was the one looking at you in such an inappropriate way. The dirty words spoken were from his lips not yours. So why on earth did it feel like you were the one being punished. 

But just as you had enough and built up the courage to march into his office demanding an explanation, you were met with an invitation. 

The same invitation that Declan extended to you week after week- to stay late and work with him.

Only this week he asked if you wouldn’t mind joining him at the Priory, his house.

He had apparently left some important work at home that morning and couldn’t continue without it. Your anxieties and annoyance around last week’s situation instantly faded.

There is no way Declan would be inviting you to his house after work hours if his true intention was to ignore you. He could have easily told you goodbye for the day and gone home to continue working without having you tag along. It begged the question- what were his true intentions then?

So of course, you accepted his invitation, packing up your things and following him out to the countryside. He led you straight to his study upon arriving and left you to your own devices for a few short minutes to fetch you both a drink.

You began searching the room with your eyes. It was strangely intimate being in Declan’s home. At work you had always taken note at how mundane Declan’s office was. There was almost no semblance of his personality, just blank walls and generic furniture.

What surrounded you now was so different.

His study was overflowing with character. Books piled high in numerous places within the room, each one dog eared and worn. Framed artwork adorned the walls. There were vintage trinkets laid out on the mantle of the fireplace. A record player sat in the corner of the room with a handful of vinyl lying underneath it. Two lamps lit the space, creating a much more relaxing ambiance than the florescent lights at coronium. Unlike the bulky desk that sat in his work office, the one in his study was much less intimidating. Still sturdy, it was made of a beautiful dark oak that was faded and rough from years of use. 

You preferred this workspace, it felt so much more like Declan. The room even smelt like him. 

You stood from your chair making your way to a small mountain of books on his desk. Grabbing a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein from the top you thumbed it noticing annotations throughout. You smiled to yourself imagining Declan at some point in his life reading the gothic novel and marking it for enjoyment. That’s what you liked about Declan, he was eccentric and scholarly. Deep and brooding but also witty and kind. There was so much to learn, and you truly loved getting to know him, he was unlike any man you had ever met. You were so hidden in thought about his many great qualities that you didn’t hear Declan's footsteps approaching behind you. 

“Whiskey?” His voice broke your train of thought.

“Oh- um yeah, thank you.” You spoke putting the book back on his desk and taking the glass from his extended hand. 

You looked down at the whiskey. When he had asked if you wanted something to drink you had assumed he would come back with something more tame like tea or water.

Nonetheless you took a swig of the alcohol, knowing you would need the liquid courage if you wanted to talk to him about his recent behavior.

“I see you’ve taken the liberty to go through my things.” The rhythm of his words were smooth, a chuckle hiding behind them.

He looked amused as he took a sip of his drink. The silent treatment he had been giving you lately made you realize you missed the sound of his voice.  

“Actually I think it was you who went through my things first, remember?” You playfully chide back at him.

“If my memory serves me correctly, I believe you were the one who set your dirty book down on my desk.” He held his glass to his lips as he spoke.

You let out a shaky breath. This was it. The first time either of you had even acknowledged your exchange from the previous week and you were ready to confront Declan for the way he had been acting ever since. 

“What’s going on Declan? You and I have always gotten along great, I thought we were working really well together. Does one silly conversation seriously ruin all of that? I mean I get it if you regret what happened that night, but you’re my boss and it’s really hard for me to do my job when you just ignore me. You’ve barely said a word to me this week and I’m starting to get freaked out that I’m going to get fired or something.” You ramble on- probably a bit too much. 

A worried look immediately takes over his face, eyes softening. He sets his glass down on the corner of his desk and takes a few steps closer to you. 

“Oh God no you’re not going to get fired. Jesus, I’m sorry I made you feel that badly.” He brings his palm up to rest on your cheek, holding your face gently in his hand causing your timid gaze to meet his. The feeling of his hand on you sending heat to your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for giving you the cold shoulder this week I just-“ he paused mid-sentence looking toward the ground and letting his eyes wander for a few seconds as he collected his thoughts. 

“I don’t regret it” 

You raise an eyebrow quizzically, silently asking him to go on. 

“I left that night, and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Every thought in my mind for the last seven days has been you; the sound of your laugh, the little blush on your cheeks when you’re embarrassed,” his eyes are glued to yours and you feel his thumb begin to rub back and forth softly on your face. 

“the warmth of your skin, the way you looked sitting underneath me. You’ve consumed me. And that’s not right, is it?” his question is clearly rhetorical, but you want to yell out in protest to keep his eyes and touch on you.

Nothing about the fluttering in your chest for the man standing in front of you feels wrong. 

Thankfully he keeps your face in his tender embrace as he continues,

“I’m your boss, I shouldn’t be thinkin’ about you like that. And I definitely shouldn’t have said the things I did last week.”

You couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or disappointment that washed over you at his words, but it caused your gaze to fall from Declan’s eyes and onto the floor. You were now aware that he didn’t want you the same way you wanted him, and you couldn’t bear to look at him as he rejected you. You suddenly felt silly for thinking your feelings for him would have been reciprocated. 

His hand slid down to your jaw lifting your eyes to meet his again, gently forcing you to look at him as he spoke. 

“But I did say them, and I meant every word. And then like an arsehole, I tried to pretend like nothing happened because I thought maybe we could move on from it. I just don’t want to make this hard for you. I don’t want whatever happens between us to get in the way of your career. People talk, and I won’t be able to live with myself if you’re in some kind of Sunday morning gossip column for bein’ Declan O’Hara’s controversially young mistress.” 

Now it was his turn to ramble, but you were hanging onto every word. You had been waiting for some sort of explanation- for some sort of confession. You understood his worries and a part of you was even thankful for his concern for you and your career. But in this moment- the warmth of his fingertips melting into your skin and the intense, compassionate stare of his big brown eyes pushed any practical reasoning out of your mind. 

“Well maybe I want to be Declan O’Hara’s controversially young mistress.” Your smile was playful yet genuine as you spoke. 

Declan couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips shaking his head at your words. 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. I’m a grown woman Declan. I understand that my actions have consequences. But I also can’t bring myself to care what anyone else thinks about what I’m doing or who I’m doing it with.” 

Before you know it Declan is grabbing the long forgotten whiskey glass from your hand and setting it aside on the desk. He takes another step forward closing the remaining gap between you. One hand still lazily resting on your jaw as he brings the other to snake around your waist. 

“I don’t think you realize how badly I wanted to hear you say that.” He sighs in relief. 

You can’t tell who initiates it but within seconds you’re pulling each other in, lips meeting and bodies touching. The kiss quickly grows heated with all the built-up tension and desire that’s been forced down for so long. His hands begin their descent on your body, roaming the sides of your torso holding and grasping as much of you as humanly possible. 

“How badly I’ve wanted to hear you tell me you want me.” His words are spoken against your lips, he can barely pull away from you.

“How badly I’ve wanted you bent over my desk.” His voice drops an octave, and he uses the hands that have been exploring your body to spin you around, so you’re pressed against his desk. You can feel him behind you, his body flush against yours, the arousal in his pants unmistakable against your backside. 

“I thought about it that night when I went home. Thought about how much I wished I would’ve ignored that phone call and taken you on my desk instead.” His voice was a low whisper in your ear, and you could feel his breath on your neck. 

His palms were flat against your abdomen holding you against his body.

You felt his right-hand slide from its position on your stomach only to find a new home gripping your backside. You could nearly hear Declan groan as he held a handful of your ass in his palm. You wanted him to keep touching you like this, clutching your body in his rough hands. You never realized your deep desire to be manhandled by him until Declan held you like this. 

“Sweetheart, I could never regret the things I said to you last week.”

His grip on your ass was gone, and you let out an unsteady breath at the loss of contact. The breath turned into a whine when you felt Declan’s hand slide underneath your dress. Still pressed against the desk, you involuntarily leaned your upper body forward over the furniture pushing your bottom half further into his touch. You were so desperate to have him between your legs you didn’t care how pathetic your actions were. 

“My God darlin, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He hums and you can feel his touch tracing over you’re embarrassingly soaked underwear.

He hooks a single finger underneath the material pulling it to the side and a rush of cool air meets your damp core causing you to clench around nothing. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Declan’s voice is so quiet behind you, you’re convinced he didn’t want you to hear his offer. 

“Don’t. please don’t stop.” You manage to sound somewhat composed even though you’re falling apart under Declan’s touch that hasn’t even found you yet. 

“Never in a million years did I think I’d have you like this, bent over and beggin’ for me.” You can’t see him, but you know for a fact there’s a smirk on his face.

Just as you’re about to plead with him again you feel two of his fingers gather the wetness pooling at your center and slowly push into you. You almost roll your eyes in pleasure, but not because of the gratification of Declan’s thick fingers stretching you open. No- it’s the noise he makes from behind you as he lets his hand work between your legs that has you melting into him. An eager groan escapes his lips when he’s finally able to feel you, a sound that assures you that he’s enjoying this just as much as you. It’s enough to make you squeeze tighter around him. 

The movement of his right hand between your legs is gentle and methodical, on a mission to get you to your release. His left hand, however, is greedily pulling at your waist dragging your body further into him. 

Your gasps of pleasure are very clearly encouraging Declan, causing his fingers to quicken and curl into you. His change in rhythm brings a whimper to your lips.   

Declan’s free hand leaves your waist and begins roughly wandering your upper body stopping when he reaches your neck. Gently grabbing your throat, he brings you back so that your body is flat against him. His fingers softly wrap around your neck, and you only want him to squeeze harder. You can feel him all over: his hand holding onto your throat, his heavy breath on your neck, his fingers curling in your heat, and his length pressing against your backside. It was almost too much, feeling him like this- having him like this.

With his hand still on your throat he places open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck.

“You don’t have to be so quiet darlin’, I want to hear you.” he murmurs into you, the hum of his voice on your skin giving you goosebumps. 

At his request you allow the pleasure building in you to bubble out in a primal moan, finally allowing yourself to fully lose control under his touch. You could feel him smile into your neck at your sweet sounds filling his ears. 

The feeling of your release was becoming increasingly harder to ignore as Declan’s fingers continued to move within you. In a haze of desire for the man holding you, his name tumbles out of your mouth in a pathetic whine. 

As soon as Declan hears his name, he removes his fingers and abruptly turns you back around to face him. Within seconds he has you sitting on his desk, his body positioned between your open legs. His hand immediately finds its place back at your center, fingers fucking into you at the same pace as before. 

"Fuck- say my name like that again."

You oblige, moaning his name and grabbing onto his forearm, your fingernails digging into his skin.

“I want to watch your face when you cum sweetheart.” His voice is groggy, and his eyes are dark, clouded with hunger as you gaze into them. 

Declan adored your sweet eyes and innocent smile, but seeing the way you looked at him right now was something he never wanted to forget. Your eyes were glazed over with desire barely able to focus, and your mouth fell open in pleasure. It was something he had only ever thought about late at night with his hand wrapped around his cock. 

Adding fuel to the fire already burning within your body, Declan brought his free hand down to rub your clit causing your head to fall back. 

The feeling of his fingers on and in you had your walls shuddering around him. The threat of your peak was so close, and Declan knew it. 

“I’ve got you. Come on. Cum for me angel.” 

The sweet words leave Declan’s lips in a kind whisper and it’s enough to push you right off the edge. Your body tenses and jolts and you find Declan’s name on your tongue repeatedly as you completely let go under his touch. 

Both of your breaths are labored as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you a few more times, milking your pleasure.

You barely give yourself enough time to recover from your climax before you’re reaching for Declan, pulling him closer by his belt. You let your hands wander lower palming his length through his pants. His forehead falls against yours and his eyes close in indulgence, a quivering breath evading him. 

“Feel how badly I want to be inside you?” his accent is think and heavy as he speaks.

Those words have your hands fumbling with his belt. You need it gone. You need to have Declan in your hands, in your mouth, in you. You didn’t care you just needed his pants off. 

It’s like he can read your mind because his large hands are instantly assisting you. Watching him undo his belt you shuffle your now soaked and useless panties down your legs. 

With his belt and pants finally off you took him in your hand and Declan immediately grabbed onto your waist, his fingertips threatening to leave a mark in their wake.

He couldn’t handle how sweet and soft your hold on his cock was. He was throbbing in your hand, his patience was almost nonexistent as he guided the both of you so his length was lined up at your entrance.   

You were both staring at each other now. Not a single word shared between you, just heaving breaths and warm touches.

His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he pushed into you inch by inch. Your hands trailed their way into his hair, burying your fingertips in his curls at the feeling of him filling you. 

He’s pressed into you to the hilt and stays there for a moment waiting to feel your walls relax around him before he moves. 

“Feel okay darlin?” He’s checking on you in a gruff tone, unable to hold back the starvation for you in his voice. 

“Mhmm” You answer in a hum, giving a small nod of your head causing your foreheads to bump into each other. 

Declan’s gaze falls from your eyes and looks down to where your two bodies meet, looking down to watch the way you’re greedily sucking him in. He watches himself slowly pull out just to plunge right back in. His thrusts are passionate and deep, every inch of him feeling every inch of you. 

He knows he won’t last long- not when this is all he’s thought about for months. Playing all of the different scenarios that end with you screaming his name like a movie in his head. Dreaming of what you would feel like wrapped around him like this.

Watching you take him so easily while you sat in his home on his desk had his cock twitching inside you. 

When his eyes meet yours again, he couldn’t help but notice your jaw falling slack. You were fucked out and losing your composure and it filled Declan with a satisfied arrogance.

“You look so pretty takin’ me like that sweetheart.” Given your indecent position his voice shouldn’t be so sincere. 

“So pretty when you cum too.” The words drip from his lips like honey. 

“Think you can give me another one?”

You’re drowning in the syrupiness of his sweet nothings. His words have you squeezing and pulling him deeper into your walls. His hand falls between you, playing with your clit. The already swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves practically vibrating under his fingertips. 

His thrusts are deep and precise; finding the perfect spongey spot that has you gripping his hair tighter and moaning profanities.  

“I wanna feel you sweet girl.”

You let your forehead fall to the nape of his neck as Declan bottoms out in you repeatedly. His fingers are moving in delicate circles over your clit and you can feel your legs start to tremble.

“C’mon let me feel you cum around me. Let me feel it.” 

He’s grunting and pleading and moaning, and you can’t help but give him what he wants. You instinctively bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.

Feeling your walls tightening around him has Declan roughly grabbing at your hips, holding you still as he drives into you taking what he wants. 

“Oh darlin’ yes- Fuck you feel so good squeezin’ me like that.” 

You have Declan in a trance: the sweet sting of your mouth on his shoulder, the soft flesh he’s grasping in his hands, the tight little cunt around him all nice and warm, the precious little whimpers leaving your lips. He swears this is heaven and he’s determined to have you in every way possible.

Screw what the tabloids want to say about it. 

You pull your head back to meet his eyes and he can’t take it anymore. The pressure building inside finally sets off and Declan comes undone with a string of moans and sighs finally giving into his release and filling you with heat. 

Both of you are silent for a moment, out of breath and struggling to find the words to speak. Your eyes are still locked on one another when you feel Declans hands reach for your arms trailing his fingertips lightly on your skin. 

“That needs to happen again.” Declan breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

He’s wearing a dopey lovesick smile that unleashes butterflies in your stomach.

“And again-” He places a kiss on your forehead.

“And again-” He kisses you once on the cheek.

“And then a few more times for good measure.” His lips meet yours in a gentle embrace.

“Well, I guess cheers to being Declan O’Hara’s controversially young mistress then” You joke causing Declan to chuckle darkly hiding his face in the crook of your neck.  

my masterlist

[otakubimbo]

I see your doing a prompt listttttt

can we get a (maybe fluffy, idk) smutty fic

with prompt 70.

a aizawa x reader fic

❤️❤️

lol hi, i know it's been ages but thank you for the ask! I hope you like it. The writers in my head have went on strike T-T

Jealousy, Jealousy

aizawa x f! reader

Aizawa never thought of himself as a jealous man, well that was until it came to you it seems.

Content: plot w/porn, fingering, unprotected sex, misunderstandings, aizawa bad at communication and feelings, drinking, voyeurism, Aizawa being jealous, big simping, avoiding feelings, pinning

for my 200 followers prompt list, i'm still taking them since i went on a lil hiatus, my bad, also if you like it please leave a comment it fuels me

Masterlist

“I don’t want you…. I need you”

The only thing Aizawa could focus on was the sound of your laughter. He was supposed to be focusing on whatever Principal Nezu was saying during this teacher's meeting. You’re giggling at something Sniper had said to you. You were trying to keep your voice down, but you couldn’t help yourself whatever Sniper had said had you in a fit of giggles, and that had Aizawas blood getting warm.

He didn’t think of himself as a jealous man, if anything his demeanor could be described as nonchalant, and yet, here he was, irritated at hearing your laugh with another man and not being the cause of that laughter. His tired eyes stared at the two of you from across the room as present Mic tried to get his attention.

“Earth to Shota!” Mic says almost screaming into his ear, “Stare any harder and your quirk will activate on its own”

“What?” an annoyed scowl crossed Aizawa’s face as he turned towards his friend.

“You’re glaring at her.” Mic points at the quietest frequency he can muster, not quiet at all. A few heads shoot over to the noise, but most ignore as it’s a usual occurrence from Mic. Aizawa huffs with a groan proceeding, turning away from your direction, unable to get the look on your face and the sound of your giggles out of his head.

The rest of the meeting goes through one ear and out the other, the only focus that Aizawa could keep was on your face. You started paying attention to the meeting, done with whatever you and sniper were speaking about. Once the meeting concluded, most of the teachers decided to go out for drinks and dinner. Aizawa wasn’t even considering going until he heard you speak up.

“Oh my gosh, yes. I need a drink after this long week” The excitement in your voice making his head turn and your eyes met his almost immediately as if you were looking for him, “you’re coming right?”

Aizawa tries his hardest not to give that you were making butterflies bloom in his stomach and just gives a curt nod. The feeling in his chest was blooming as the group walked towards the nearest restaurant, that was until he saw the way you looped your arm around Snipers and you were giggling again at whatever he was saying to you. Another scowl was making an appearance of Aizawas face as he watched the scene before him, Mic caught what was going on, throwing a supportive arm over Aizawas shoulder and he didn’t shrug it off surprisingly.

“Just talk to her, man” Mic does his best to whisper towards his friend. Aizawa just stays silent as they continue to walk forward, not even sparing his friend a sideways glance.

You hadn’t been at UA long but from the first interaction with Aizawa, he knew there was something different about you. The way you softly smiled at him as you introduced yourself had his words caught in his throat. It was the first time in a long time that the man actually felt self conscious about his appearance, thinking how disheveled he must look to you. But you didn’t seem to cast any judgment on him, it wasn’t like he was known for his style anyways. Your graze was soft yet curious as if you were picking him apart to see inside of him, it wasn’t judgmental it was calculated curiosity. Ever since then sometimes he would catch you just glancing at him as if you knew something he didn’t, and when he caught your eye, you would just smile that smile of yours and go back to whatever you were doing. You mesmerized him.

It didn’t help that you were absolutely gorgeous, his eyes always drawn to you, but you were also kind, kind in a way that seemed so effortless for you. It wasn’t even that you went out of your way to be kind, you just were. On the days that he was at his most exhausted, you always appeared out of no where with coffee for him. When the stress of his students was getting to him, you always had a funny story to tell him that got his mind from it even if it was for a moment. It was as if you always knew what he needed.

And here you were, sitting across from him giggling at something Sniper says as you take shots of sake together. Now Aizawa barely drank, but tonight as tight as his jaw was clenching, he was going to need to do anything to keep his cool. The alcohol taking his mind other places then you across the table. He was doing a decent job at keep the fire without him down, that was until your head landed on Sniper’s shoulder face flushed from the alcohol and the way you looked up at the other man set gasoline on that fire. How could you just do that so casually in front of him? Did you not feel the same way? Did you not feel his gaze always driving to you? Abruptly and uncharacteristically Aizawa quickly stood up and just walked outside, everyone looking at each other in the confusion at his quick departure.

Your brows furrowed in concern as you watched him leave, you could tell he was pissed but about what you had no clue but you were worried. Quickly, you excused yourself from the table following him. He was waking faster than you had ever seen him go, making you jog after him trying to call his name, but he was either ignoring you or couldn’t hear you. Eventually you caught up with him outside in the side alley of the restaurant, you could tell as you approached that he was fuming. But he looked like a frantic kitten, almost lost.

“Aizawa?” Your voice soft and careful as you approached him. “Are you okay?” Your question barely audible as you reach out to him. He turns to glare at you, gaze so sharp it makes you take a step back, but he says nothing. The alcohol making his eyes redder, deeper.

“What happened back there?”

The question hung in the air for a moment before Aizawa scoffed. There was no way you didn’t know what the problem was, but you didn’t know, your concerned look turned into one of confusion. Aizawa rakes his hands aggressively through his before his tired eyes fall back onto yours. He knew his behavior seemed strange, but he had no clue what to do at this point. He was a grown man for fucks state, the stoic, nonchalant pro hero Erasure Head, yet here he was acting like a jealous child over a woman who wasn’t even his. The drinks flowing through his system weren’t making his thoughts any more logical. As he looks at you, he lets out an exasperated sigh, he couldn’t imagine how stupid he probably looked.

“You can just tell me what’s bothering you, you know I won’t judge. You know that.”  You say while taking a cautious step forward, he looked like a frightening kitten.

Aizawa let out another sigh. There you and your kind heart go again, making him docile, making him fall for you. He couldn’t take it anymore, the liquid courage giving him the push to finally do what’s been on his mind since the first moment he met you. Without speaking, he starts walking towards you getting closer and closer forcing you back until your back presses against the alley wall.

“Aizawa” you breath out his name as his arms cage you as you look at him wide eyed. He was close, so close.

“I don’t think I can take it anymore” his voice barely above a whisper, strained biting his lip as if to hold himself back. His eyes were closed as he was gripping the wall beside your head. You can smell the sake on his breath, as he leans closer into you hovering right over your mouth.

“Can’t take what?” Your voice coming out just as quietly.

 Aizawa opens his eyes looking straight into yours, they were as beautiful as ever, a bit glossy from the previous drinks and as always curious as always seemingly looking through him. He doesn’t blink as he looks into your eyes searching for something, waiting for you, waiting on you to push him away, waiting for you to tell him no. But then nothing came, you were just looking back at him with that face of yours and now he couldn’t stop himself. f Slowly, still giving you the chance to push him away, he leans his face closer to yours capturing your lips with his own. Your body not even giving your mind time to process what’s happening as you automatically lean into him kissing him back. The kiss is slow, steady, strong but filled with so much passion, just like Aizawa.

You’re the first one to take it up a notch, grabbing onto his shirt to pull him closer, opening your mouth for him to explore. At this, he stopped holding himself back letting his built-up frustration get the best of him as he kisses you more sloppily grabbing the back of your head with one hand and your ass with the other.  You gasp at the action surprised at the sudden change from him, giving Aizawa the opportunity to bite on your lower lip which illicit a sharp hiss from you. Your hands move to wrap around his neck as he resumes kissing you fiercely. It was aggressive, it was sloppy, it was everything that he dreamed about, his lips molding into yours, the feeling of your tongue wrestling with his.

As everything started to get more passionate the hand, he was using to hold your hair goes down to your ass to lift you up for him, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he presses you into the wall. His lips trailing from your mouth to your chin and then down to your neck biting and sucking as you try to keep down your moans as whines from his ministrations on your neck as he hips grind into yours. There’s a hitch in your breath as he bites down hard, grinding even harder into you making you clench around nothing.

“Fuck Shota” you moan as you can feel one of his hands make its way towards your soaked panties. Oh, the sound of his given name on your lips. He wanted to hear it more.

“You’re already so wet for me” he says against your lips, a cocky smirk gracing his face as he makes his way to the other side of your neck. As his digits move your panties to the side, sliding up and down your slit just grazing your yearning clit while you thank whatever divine being told you to wear a skirt today. You moan his name again as you feel his thumb rub long circles around your clit, pressing your hips more into his hand as you grab his hair causing him to bite down on your neck with a soft groan.

“Shota please” you beg, needing more from him. His mouth finds yours again as he inserts two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for. He curled his fingers inside you as his thumb rubbed tighter circles on your clit. At this point you were dripping down his hand, your feet digging into his back as he swallowed your moans.  He could feel you getting tighter around his fingers, his mouth left yours and went to your ear.

“Yes, just like that. You want to cum for me? Are you gonna cum for me?”  He speaks straight into your ear, his ministrations getting more aggressive as you nod senselessly feeling your peak quickly nearing.

“Yes Shota I’m gonna cum for you, I’m gonna cum for you” you pant as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you.

A grown escapes his mouth at the sound of your voice, “fuck I love the way you say my name.” He nibbles at your ear, “go ahead and cum for me”

And you do, you cum hard, gushing all over his hand eyes closed, head thrown back as your chest quickly rises and falls. To Aizawa, he doesn’t think he’s seen anything sexier.  As you’re coming down for your peak, Aizawas lips find yours again, kissing you slow and longingly his fingers sliding gently out of you to grip back on your ass, pressing himself into you. He can feel all your residual wetness seeping into his pants. Fuck he wanted you so badly.

You pull back from him, your eyes slowly opening as you look at him with heavy breaths. The look he was giving you was dangerous; he was no longer a kitten but a tiger that was starved. It overwhelmed you as you turn your head and gaze away from him which reminded you that he just finger fucked you in an alley way. Your hands go to push on his chest as his mouth latches on your neck again.

“Wait Aizawa, wait” you say pushing with the little strength you have after your orgasm, your breath coming out heavy and strained. He doesn’t pull away, but his lips still against your neck. “We can’t do this here, we’re gonna get caught, someone’s gonna see or hear us”

He chuckles smugly into your neck at your words, still not moving away placing gentle kisses up and down it as your breath hitched, “you weren’t saying that when I was knuckles deep into you, and..” he starts as he nips at your neck “what happened to calling me Shota? My name sounds so much prettier coming out of your mouth.”  Aizawa didn’t know if he was drunk off the sake he drank previously or if it was just you.

You take in his words as he grinds, his hard dick into your already sensitive core while his hands roam over your body.  A small whimper coming out of your mouth as he licks a long stripe against your neck.

“Plus I don’t care, I want you right here and right now.” He huffs as he presses his body into yours, taking one of his hands to turn your face back to him. The way you looked right now, flushed, breathing heavily, pupils blown out from him, for him. It ignited something even more depraved in him as he shakes his head aggressively, “No no no, I don’t want… I need you.”

The look in his eyes tells you he means every word, he needs you right there, right now, no matter who could walk past and something about that makes you even wetter. Another chuckle leaves his lips as he can feel you wetting him even more. Oh, you were a nasty little thing, you were going to drive him crazy.

“And you need me to, you need me to fuck you here in this back alley.” A cocky grin plastered on his face as he frees himself from his pants, taking his tip to rub on your clit. You breathe out shakily nodding your head as you try to push him in. He places himself right at your entrance, not yet pushing himself in as he feels you trying to sink down on him.

“Tell me you need me to” he says as he smears more of your juices on his dick. A moan escapes your mouth as your overstimulated core is stroked.

“Shota please”

“No, I want to hear you say it. Say you need me” he pulls back from you slightly, tip again right at your entrance, he can feel your cunt trying to suck him in. His mouth going back to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Say it”

“I need you; Shota I need you right here and right now in this back alley” you whine and beg, causing him to smirk feeling the way his lips turn up on your ear.

“Good girl” Aizawa whispers before pushing himself in, slowly, agonizingly slowly. The stretch of him burned, making your nails dig into his back.

“Fuck” you both say in unison as he bottoms out, you’re already clenching around him. Tight, you were oh so tight. Your pussy clenching so tightly around him that for a moment he didn’t even think he could breathe. Oh and it felt so good, too good, you really were going to make him crazy.

“Relax, I got you” his voice strained holding himself back from cumming just from entering you. Your body relaxes at his command, grip less tight on him. Such a good girl you were, such a good girl for him. With the slight relief he starts moving into you, feeling the way your pussy tries to pull him back in every time he drags himself back. It was an intoxicating feeling, his eyes shut as he slowly moves in and out of you, quietly moan your name. Each drag on his hip making you feel more and more crazed as your pleasure climbs towards it peak again.  Your high feeling just out of reach with how slowly he was moving in and out of you. You needed to feel more of him, needed him harder, needed him faster.

“Please fuck me Shota,” you whine as you try to take him deeper into you, almost hitting the spot that would drive you wild “fuck me harder, fuck me faster”

He chuckled into your arm, stilling his movements gaining another whine out of you in frustration, “For someone who claimed they were so worried about getting caught, your actions surely prove different.”

You attempt to roll your hips into him, but he just presses his hips harder into you forcing your back against the wall, unable to move. “Please” you breath out, clenching and unclenching around his length.  “I told you I didn’t care; I told you I needed you. Please. I need you to fuck me Shota, please fuck me Shota”

Oh, how he loved hearing you beg. It made him even harder inside of you, groaning into your neck as he calms himself down from cuming just from your words alone. Your nails did into his back, and you breathe out another please, another beg. At that, something snaps in him he grabs the bottom of your thighs, pulling them up so that your legs are now on his shoulder pulling you off of the wall. You gasp at the sudden movement, the feat of strength should have been expected from him but it didn’t stop it from being any less hot involuntarily clenching around him, wetting him even more. His strong hands find a tight grip onto your waist lifting you up and slamming you back down on his did, his hips moving in tandem with his upper body movements to fuck into you deeper, harder, faster.

It was exactly what you wanted but all to much at the same time. He was moving you as you weighed nothing to him, while all you could do is moan out his name as he fucks you like a feral beast, the grip you had on his shoulders almost painful to him making him go even harder. The sound of your pussy was almost as loud as your moans.

“You have to be quiet, baby or we really are gonna get caught.” He says not stopping his assault that was causing your volume. Your pussy had a mind of its own, clenching  harder around him at the thought of someone seeing the way he was treating your body. Aizawa didn’t think he could be any more turned on but you keep doing it to him. He slams your back into the wall, using his hand as a cushion behind your head as he pulls it towards him in a searing kiss. As he pulls away he smirks at you, his hips not stopping their movements, “ Oh you want to get caught don’t you? You want everyone to see how much nasty you are, how you’re letting me fuck you like a slut in this dirty alley way?”

You shake your head, but your body betrays you as you clench again on his dick, getting closer and closer to your peak. Your juices were spilling out around his dick, soaking his pants. “But baby I can feel it, you’re drenched. I never thought you would be so nasty, someone who looked so innocent, someone so beautiful would have such a filthy pussy. Now be a good girl for me and have this filthy pussy cum on my dick.”

As filthy as your pussy was for him, his mouth was even dirtier for you. He started pounding you into in exactly the right spot, eliciting a loud moan from you, making your eyes roll back his mouth finding your neck and biting down to silence you. 

“You’re taking my dick so well. Fuck, I’m so deep in you. You feel me right? You feel how deep I am in you?” He asks and you just nod your head no words being able to form in your mouth. One of his hands went down to rub your clit, feeling you clench harder at his movements wetting the two of you more and more that it was dripping on the ground. Before you could tip over the edge, he pulls his hand back slowing  his movements down again. You try not to whine so loudly but you couldn’t help it, the burn and strain in your legs returning as you no longer feel the euphoria that he was giving you. A pout forms on your face as you watch Aizawa raising his hand covered in you as he slowly grinds his hips into you, straining your legs further.

“Let’s see how you taste.” He says before licking one of his fingers, closing his eyes as if he was savoring the flavor of you. “Delicious” was the last thing he says before he shoves his slick covered fingers into your mouth down your throat making you gag. You start sucking on his fingers the best that you could while he resumes the harsh pace that he was at.  You looked so sexy to him sucking and choking on his fingers, he could only imagine how you would look with his dick in your mouth but now is not the time for that, not here.

But it did drive him crazier, fucking his fingers into your mouth as his other hand presses onto your stomach as his thumb rubs fiercely on your click. It was all too much for you, as if you could feel him everywhere all at once, so overpowering that you didn’t even have time to register that you were cumming and hard, the grip of your cunt on his dick was so tight that he could barely move. His movements didn’t stop and now you were squirting on him, soaking his shirt and pants. The scene before Aizawa was so vulgar, so sexy, you just came on his dick in a dingy alley and squirted all over him. He couldn’t stop himself anymore from cuming in you, his seed hitting your cervix which made you clench around him again, even harder. He kept cumming and cumming , he didn’t even know he had that much in him to give. Your greedy pussy sucking everything out of him, he had even forgotten to breathe. He slowly puts your legs down back around his waist, panting as small spurts of cum still shoot into you. Your foreheads are pressed together as you both catch your breath.

You’re the first one to say something, “well that was….”

“Yeah” he finishes your sentence opening his eyes to look at you, “are you okay?”

And then there you go with that smile again, “never been better” you breathe out with a small giggle. “But I do think we should probably get ourselves together.”

He nods as he slowly pulls out of you, both of yall hissing from the movement, extremely overstimulated leaving a connected trail of both of your juices as he leaves you. You start straightening out your shirt and your skirt, thinking back to how you got yourself in this situation in the first place. Not knowing how the two of you even ended in this predicament, you couldn’t blame it on alcohol. Neither of you even drank that much, but it was still making you overthink. What did any of this mean?

You look over at Aizawa while he fixes his pants, clearing your throat nervously as you fiddled with your skirt, “so would you like to talk about what just happened?”  Your question making him halt his moments. He sighs as he fixes himself, running his fingers through his hair seeming just as nervous as you were as if he wasn’t just fucking the soul out of you. Everything is quiet for a moment and you think maybe you really fucked up, that none of it meant anything to him, and you were just a quick relief to some stress he was under.

“I didn’t like seeing you with Sniper” he confesses after the long silence avoiding looking at you.

You blink several times, trying to process what he just said to you. There was no reason to be upset at seeing you with Sniper. “What?” you say louder than expected making his gaze turn to yours, his jaw clenched. Your face was crunched in a way that didn’t really give away what you were thinking.

“I was….” He exhales “jealous. Seeing you laugh and talk with Sniper. The two of you were so close during the whole meeting and then seeing you lean your head on his shoulder just set me off. I was jealous.”

“Are you serious right now?”  Your question matching the confused disbelieve that your face now showed. It didn’t make sense to you why he would be jealous of Sniper, it had you looking at him in a way that made him feel even more exposed than him voicing his feelings had him.

“Well seeing the woman, I like flirting back and forth with another doesn’t really bring me joy. The way you laughed and whispered to him as if it was just the two of you in the room ticked me off. And then you went and laid your head on his shoulder. That was it, that’s what made me storm off.” he huffed in annoyance so unlike him, getting more irritated as he sees a wide grin spread across your face before your burst out into laughter. You were laughing so hard; you had to grip your stomach and tears streaming down your face. Eventually you calm, wiping the tears from your eyes to see an extremely irritated Aizawa.  How could you just laugh in his face after he confessed his feelings for you? He never thought that you were that kind of person.

“This is funny to you?”

You let out a few more giggles, before you sigh happily looking up at him like you always do, “you’re really cute you know that”

He just scowls at you as you walk towards him, but he doesn’t back away allowing you to grab his face in both of your hands. He tries to turn his head, avoiding your gaze but you turn his face back to you, placing a gentle kiss of his lips. It takes everything in him not to kiss you back. He glares down at you when you pull away, more embarrassment in his look than anger.

“You know he’s my cousin, right?” You say with that stupidly beautiful smile on your face. It took a few moments for Aizawa to register what you said, his scowl deepening as his face reddened at the realization.

“Your cousin” he says with an air of relief and embarrassment

“Yes, my cousin” you giggle kissing him again.

“The two of you look nothing alike” he huffs out, thinking of how he could have possibly known that.

“True but that doesn’t make him any less of my cousin.” You release his face taking a step back to quickly scroll through your phone, showing Aizawa what looks like a large family picture and there was you and yup there was Sniper. “I could of sworn I told you before, he was the one who conceived me to move here and apply for UA.”  You say as you tap your finger on your chin, thinking back to when you first became his assistant.

Aizawa takes a deep breath, he feels like an idiot. He was jealous of your cousin. JEALOUS of your cousin. Fucked you for the first time in a back-alley (yes it was really hot, and he thoroughly enjoyed it but still that wasn’t how he envisioned his first time fucking you). His face reddens even more just thinking about it, his stoic expression trying to settle back into his face.

“And I like you too by the way” you say as you bat those pretty little eyes at him

“So let me take you out on proper date then” he tells you more than asks you, regaining his previous confidence.

“I’d love that”

Later that night after you’re home and cleaned up from your activities, while you lie in bed looking at the texts between you and Aizawa about the future date you’re going to have with him you get a text from none other than your cousin.

BadShot🔫: I know you fucked Erasure Head in that back alley

You stare at the message in horror, thoroughly embarrassed wondering how the hell he knew as you see the typing bubbles appear

BadShot🔫: the two of you weren’t very quiet.

You quickly respond back “blocked for harassment”

BadShot🔫: that’s fine I’m telling your mom

You never called someone so fast in your life.  He was definitely no longer your favorite cousin.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

professor anakin x reader was scrumptious can we get a smutty part 2 pretty please? 🥹🤲🏻

Author's note: professor!anakin for you nonnie? ALWAYS

TW: fingering

ANAKIN SKYWALKER was seated at his desk in the dimly lit corner of his study, papers scattered in front of him. His brows were furrowed, pen gliding across the page as he scrawled red ink over careless mistakes from his students.

You, on the other hand, were perched on the plush sofa nearby, twirling your hair and scrolling through your phone. The sight of him so focused, so serious, was a little too tempting to resist.

Also, have you already mentioned you're ovulating?

You stood, padding over to him in your fluffy socks, and leaned against the desk. “You’re working too hard,” you said, pouting slightly.

He didn’t look up, his pen scratching across the page again. “Someone has to, sweetheart.”

You huffed at his lack of attention and slid onto the edge of the desk, crossing your legs so your skirt rode up just enough to draw his eyes, well, at least you hoped it would

Because he just glanced at you briefly, expression not even softening, and he quickly returned to his grading. “Not going to work this time,” he murmured

“Oh, really?” you asked, raising a brow.

Before he could respond, you slid off the desk and onto his lap, straddling him. His breath hitched, the pen in his hand stilling as you settled your weight against him.

“Sweetheart,” he warned, voice low and gravelly, “I have work to do.”

“And I have needs,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck. His jaw clenched, and you felt the way his body tensed beneath you.

“Needs?” he echoed, his hands instinctively finding your hips. "What needs?" he gave you everything you needed before..right? All the food was in the fridge, you could do whatever you wanted..

“Mhm.” You trailed your lips along his neck, nibbling lightly at the spot just below his ear that you knew drove him crazy. “I need your attention.”

He exhaled sharply, large hands tightening their grip on you, fingers digging into the soft skin. “You already have all of my attention, whether you realize it or not.”

“Then prove it,” you whispered, kissing along his jawline now. "Because I'm bored, proffesor"

“Then go study,” his tone teasing yet distracted as he returned - tried - to the essay in front of him.

You huffed, leaning forward to grab the pen from his hand. “I don’t want to study. I want you.”

Anakin sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms as he regarded you with mock exasperation. “You know, most students don’t climb into their professor’s lap when they’re bored.”

“Good thing I’m not like most students,” you shot back, a cheeky grin spreading across your face

His eyes would travel all over your face, memorizing and studying your confidence. Or how spoiled he made you that you no longer knew about 'boundaries' “You’re insufferable,” he muttered

You smirked, fingers loosening the bottoms of his shirt “You love it.”

“I love you,” he corrected, his voice softening for a moment. But then his tone turned firm again. “But I really do need to finish these essays.”

You tilted your head, studying him with a pout. “Fine,” you said, your voice dripping with fake resignation. “If you won’t pay attention to me, I’ll just sit here quietly.”

“Thank you,” he said, though the wary look in his eyes betrayed him.

You leaned back, letting your weight settle on his lap, your skirt riding up just enough to expose the tops of your thighs. His gaze flicked down for the briefest second before he forced it back to the paper in his hand.

You stayed true to your word—for about thirty seconds. Then, with deliberate slowness, you began to rock your hips against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through both of you.

Anakin’s pen slipped, leaving a crooked line of red ink across the page. He groaned, his head falling back against the chair as his hands gripped your hips to still you.

“Sweetheart" voice so deliciously firm.

“Yes, Professor?” you replied innocently, batting your lashes at him and rocking your hips ever so slightly against his lap.

Anakin groaned, his hands coming up to grip your waist as if to hold you in place—or maybe to keep himself from giving in entirely.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, finally setting the pen down. His hands slid under your skirt, his long fingers brushing the lace of your panties. “If I give you what you want, will you let me work in peace?”

You bit your lip, nodding eagerly.

“Of course you will,” he said dryly, his lips quirking into a smirk as his fingers hooked around the edge of your panties and slid them aside. “Just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” you replied breathlessly, your arms looping around his neck as his fingers found their way to your slick heat.

He didn’t waste time teasing you, sliding two fingers inside with practiced ease, the stretch making you gasp. But his attention remained frustratingly divided—his free hand reached for the next essay on the stack, and he picked up the pen like this was just another task to multitask.

“You’re—oh, God—still working?” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as his fingers moved inside you, curling just right.

“Mm-hmm,” he replied, his tone infuriatingly calm. “Unlike someone, I don’t neglect my responsibilities.”

You whimpered, grinding down against his hand as he continued to work you open, the wet sounds of his fingers moving inside you mixing with the scratch of his pen against paper.

“Anakin,” you moaned, hoping to pull his attention back to you.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple as he wrote another note in the margin of a student’s essay. “Be a good girl and stay quiet. Unless you want the whole class to know how needy you are for your professor.”

The words sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you bit down on your lip to stifle a moan as his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made your mind spin

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and dripping with approval.

You clung to him, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as he brought you closer and closer to the beloved edge. And when you finally tumbled over, your entire body trembling in his lap, he simply smirked and set another graded paper aside.

“Better?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you collapsed against his chest.

“Mmhmm,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now let me get back to work.”

[moodymisty]

just throwing in a last minute request for anything angsty, fluffy or smutty with dorn (bonus points if you can roll all three into one aha) :3 💕

Author's note: I like Dorn :) Heavily inspired by Pluvio's newest Dorn fic. Relationships: Rogal Dorn/Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW flashback, and some posh gossip

You've forgotten the amount of times someone has asked you about Dorn. Both this evening and in general.

They always ask about how lonely it must be. Wife of the Praetorian. Wife of 'The Wall', less tactful men tend to say, commissars who have served just enough time around him to know his personality but yet still feel bold enough to gossip.

Sometimes people will lean inward and raise their eyebrows, curl their shoulders forward, wondering if they can get a hint. If you are displeased with your marriage; If you perhaps have another for when those weeks turn to months, and Dorn continues to place you at the bottom of his duties.

"Well, I do hope it doesn't get too cold out on Inwit alone."

A quaint lady and her lord spin glasses of wine, wanting to dig into the juicy innards of your relationship after the pleasantries about the construction of your gown were finished.

A delightful thing it was; Gold, of course. You'd wear scant nothing else in terms of color other than Gold and Imperial Fist yellow at such formal events, but it didn't matter in the end. Talking to the Lady Dorn of the Imperial Fists was a rare treat, and tidbits were oh so tempting. You rarely attend these sorts of things, your husband and his men even less.

You think he's only even been to a few, and Dorn usually keeps to himself when he does. His men are usually posted around the entrances- or the food. They are quite fond of when these events have large stacks of meat, but find little joy in anything else. Once the table has been cleared of anything they find delectable, they usually stomp back to the various points of entry and post there until they are allowed to leave.

However you are far less intimidating than your Lord Husband's men in the eyes of fellow baselines, and closer to the Praetorian in ways they find intriguing, so they pry and pry for more and more- looking for less so military secrets and more quaint gossip. Not to say they don't try for any of the former, however.

A moment before this the lady had made the slightest hint towards you being unsatisfied with your husband leaving you aside for so long, and your mind quickly wandered off into recent memory.

The furs were so warm against your skin; Soft, in contrast to the wall of unyielding muscle that held you firmly in place. Your face laid against the pelts while your ass was positioned upward, as high as it would go. Back swept in such a sharp angle you body laid completely helpless, at mercy to Dorn's ruthlessness.

Drool dribbled from your mouth and stained those furs, matting one of the many of them you had. Your chambers on Inwit were lined with them; Your chambers on The Phalanx had even more. As a baseline, your ability to withstand the harsh colds of Inwit was vastly lower than Dorn and his men, and so blankets and cloaks were one of the things your lord husband would often requisition for you.

The bed creaked under the weight of a primarch, and the room was filled with the sounds of moans and whimpers, the slapping of skin on skin, and heavy, quiet grunts.

Dorn rarely ever made a noise during such things, not more than a strenuous grunt as his hips piston forward, or a heavy, quiet groan when he would first shove himself into your tight heat.

His cock drove into you deep enough that it felt like he was pushing into your stomach, balls slapping against your clit. Everything felt so hot, your heart pounded in your chest with your heavy breathes as each time his cock dragged against your inner walls it brought you that much closer to your peak.

One of his hands wrapped around your waist- the sheer size of it covered so much he didn't need the other. That one held his body up by pressing into the bed beside you, trapping you in a cage of body heat. Your skin felt hot, and each time Dorn hammered into you and made a mess of your cunt just a bit more, you skin felt like it got even hotter. You couldn't even speak, it had been months and the two of you were content to simply keep the room to nothing but noises. Dorn could be poetic at times, surprisingly so, but not always.

Because in a way, during these rare moments he perhaps has more in common with the beasts he had hunted and skinned for you, than anything else. But once he's done, the only way you'll be able to tell that his exterior cracked for a moment is the aches and pains he leaves behind.

Dorn is very much like Inwit's vast mountains of ice; Stiff and emotionless.

He will never hold your hand so daintily, never guide you down a flight of stairs, never bequeath to you a million pet names. In some ways, he doesn't feel like a husband at all. But behind the safety of complete privacy, you see just enough. You don't need all of it. At least that's what you tell yourself. Maybe one day the gilded palace he keeps you in won't be enough, but for now, it's just fine.

You remember the lady had asked you a question, and wave her off.

"Oh no, it's not too cold at all, actually."