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ciaoteamo · 1 year ago

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Milk and Water Pt. II

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: the aftermath of letting him in

pt.I

(art credits: @yunonoaii)

warnings: 18+ content

“…what. the. fuck.” You mutter to yourself, watching the scene before you unfold.

“mmm, how about letting me in now? promise i won’t bite you too hard” His eyes were dangerously seductive.

Your desktop fan and the slight rustling sound of (what you could only assume was) him touching himself filled the eerie silence of your office space.

However, he could still tell that you were hesitant to let him in, especially considering what he just did to D.D.D.

“how about this, sweetheart we-“

“if i open this door.” You cut him off. He shuts up quickly and halts his movements with a blank stare. His eyes watching you intently.

“you come straight to me, or else i swear to fuck. it will not be a good time for you. you copy?” Your hands were firmly grasping the edge of the desk as you stared the man in his color changing eyes.

“i promise” He kisses the window and you give him one last short lived glare before unlocking the door for him.

BZZT!

He slowly turns away from you and walks toward the door and you felt relieved to hear a light knock a few seconds later before he let himself in.

“see? you can trust the milkman” He grins.

He was a mess. Between the torn clothing, the blood, and his unzipped slacks that displayed his black briefs holding back a huge bulge, he honestly looked like something out of a wet dream.

“this is quite a small space… you think i’ll be alright in here?” He closed the door behind himself and strides toward you.

“you don’t have any choice but to be alright” You retort and he chortles.

“i love this mouth of yours… i’ve never crossed paths with a human as bold as you…” He tilts his head, placing a hand under your chin to lift it a bit.

“unless you’re actually scared… and using this boldness as a tactic..?” His irises turn white once again and his grip on your chin tightened slightly.

Though you were enduring a near death experience right now, being that you were this close to a doppelgänger, you were unbelievably horny.

“tactics?” You start. You already knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to get out of his grip just by moving, so you used a more… inappropriate approach.

You took a step closer to him, closing in the 2 foot gap that sat between the two of you and you placed your palm over his hard-on.

His grip immediately loosened a bit and his fingers twitched against your skin. What a reaction that was…

You feel more confident, realizing that he’s just another horny good looking guy. “is there a reason i should be afraid of you?” You ask, hand squeezing around him and a finger rubbing his tip.

He shudders and his hand falls from your chin and rests around your throat. His forehead tapped against yours, and your eyes were fixed on each other. “…you really are something”

“wish i could say the same for you“ You start, breaking the eye contact to look at his lips and sharp canines. “you’re just a slutty and messy excuse of a monster” Your words would probably be venom to anyone else, but this only riled him up more.

You felt his throbbing under your palm and grin to yourself before being greedily pulled into a kiss. For a brief moment, you could taste a metallic bloody taste on his tongue.

You moaned at the warmth of his mouth and felt his hands rested on your hips, rubbing circles into the area.

You release yourself from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth and a smile. “desperate, are we?” You tease.

“painfully…” His eyes glistened. “what’ll it take to get those pretty lips to go a little lower?”

“show me what yours can do first and i’ll see about returning the favor” You challenge. His eyes go back and forth between yours before he kisses you again.

This time however, he started to undo your uniform. Groaning so deeply that you felt the rumble in your throat. His skilled hands loosened your belt and your slacks came down and off.

Next he lowered himself and lifted you a bit to get off your socks and shoes, making him get more sloppy and needy within the kiss.

At this point he was squatting and you were standing over him, holding both sides of his face. His hands travelled up and down your leg as he stayed in his position and this time, he’s the one to break the kiss.

You were both breathing heavily, and staring each other down. You almost forgot your resolve and let him fuck you right then and there.

But you had to stay strong, for both of you guys’ sake. You take a deep breath in and til your head.

“well, you gonna show me? or are just sit there and look delirious from a simple kiss?” You teased.

“…may i?” He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow, gesturing toward your leg.

“go ahead”

“hold on to something right”

“why am i h- shit!” You would’ve fell right to the ground if it wasn’t for the shelf behind you that held last months documents. Albeit, they’re scattered over the floor now.

Your legs were snatched from underneath you and each one was hooked over the man’s shoulders. His warm breath against you felt sinister. It sent a slight chill up your spine.

His eyes stared down at your sex and he licked his lips, looking more excited than you did for this. “don’t let go” He says before using gis fingers to spread you sticky lips.

His tongue pressed hard into you and drug from your hole, up to your clit. You bit your lip at the warmth and felt your back arch against your will.

“ha~ this all you got? Thought you said you’d be bet- anghh~!” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops at the new feeling below.

“you were saying?” He mumbles into you. His tongue was longer with a pointy tip, and his lips were wrapped tightly around your clit.

The pleasure was almost overwhelming. You could definitely admit that he made you eat your words and replace them with loud endless moans.

As you felt yourself getting closer you began to grind your hips over his face, chasing after your high.

“don’t stop” You could barely get out the last word before the wave of immense overstimulating pleasure came over you.

You curse and take in a few deep breaths, calming yourself down a bit, and only then did he let your clit go with a ‘pop’, making your legs to twitch.

“that wasn’t fair” You jokingly glare at him, the sweat making your skin shine and chilly from the fan air.

“i told you i was better” He wipes his chin with his thumb and licks it clean without breaking the eye contact.

“you have to be some sort of… sex demon” You shake your head in disbelief.

“maybe i am?” He lets you tug him closer by his tie and give him another sloppy kiss. The change in size of his tongue being just below too much for you as it explored your mouth.

“well let’s see how long you can last then… hm?” You ask, beginning to leave a trail of light kisses on his next before a harsh bite.

You could feel him shudder and decided to have him sit in your office chair. “let me borrow this..” You say, undoing his tie while he sat.

You spin the chair around and bring both of his arms to the back and tie them to the chair. When you spin his back around, his had such a mischievous grin that you went ahead and addressed.

“yes, i know you could probably get out of that in a heartbeat” You start and roll your eyes. He chuckles, amused at your awareness. “but, will you?” It was your turn to put on the sly grin now. The second he managed to break free from his restraint, would be the moment you’d send him off.

“…” He read your face, bit knowing if he should say something sly or not.

“right, thought so” You smile and give him a few taps on the cheek.

You kneel between the man’s legs, finally addressing the large and throbbing penis before you.

“god you’re hard… you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help” You joke, rubbing his wet tip through his boxers with you finger.

He grunted a bit and readjusted himself in his seat. You look up at him before pressing harshly on it with your thumb.

“oh fuck you~” He throws his head back and you giggle.

You reach for the hem of his briefs and tug at them, signaling him to lift his hips. Once he’s exposed, you could really see the girth and length of him.

He was veiny, thick… bright pink tip, and god knows how long it was.

You put your hand around the base, it was warm and nearly pulsating. Your pace was moderate, giving him just enough to work with. You knew it was a nice steady pace when his hips slightly jerked up for more friction.

“needy boy wanting to fuck my hand? this wasn’t even the main event you asked for, love” You coo, strengthening the grip you had on him by a smidge.

“i can’t help that you know how to use those hands of yours so well” He remarks, still facing the ceiling.

You pump your fist higher up and use your own skilled tongue to drag along his vein.

“@$?!~” He moaned and immediately looked down at you with a snarl. An almost threatening one telling you that he wanted more.

And were you planning on giving it to him? Absolutely not.

You stare right back at him and smirk, using the same motion and occasionally sucking the pre cum from its leaky pink source.

“i’m gonna cum” Your eyes welled a bit at the large shaft triggering your gag reflex. But he was close so you would endure the slight pain.

His thrust his hips up a few times and you force your head as far as you could before completely stopping.

“fuck- why’d you stop” His voice was almost a whisper and suddenly thick white ropes shot into the air and landed on his thigh.

“oh i’m sorry, i’ll keep going” You reach for his most sensitive spots, overstimulating him into a nervous laughter as he begged you to stop.

It was fun watching him experience more than he could handle, but all good things come to an end.

He sighs in relief, sweaty, heaving, and dazed.

“can i be freed now?” He asks.

“sure, why not. looks like you’re done here anyway” You shrug.

“who’s done?” He stands up, simply snapping the tie apart.

“oh… you’ve still got more in you?”

“im the milkman, i never run out” He suddenly picks you up and sits on you on the desk. Jesus, these things are strong.

You wrap your hands around your neck, suddenly feeling the arousal for another round yourself.

His hands find your slick entrance, teasing the outside and slipping two cold slender fingers into you.

“mmm!” You mean into the kiss, holding onto his forearm as he fingered you at an inhumane pace. You break away and cat h your breath trying to slow him down a bit.

“i don’t want to cum from this, put it in” You say.

“yes ma’am” He lines himself up without your entrance and slowly pushes himself in with a moan. You could every centimeter of the stretch as he went deeper.

You tapped the back of your head onto the window behind you and felt him kissing on your neck and collarbone.

“fuck you’re big” Your voice slightly shook as you stated the obvious.

“and you’re so warm and wet inside, i ashamed to admit that i almost came putting it in” He chuckled before biting back another groan.

RIIIIING

You snap your head in the direction of the phone and see D.D.D. calling.

Shit.

“stop, i have to take this.” He halts his thrusts and you grab the phone. “hello?”

“agent number” A deep voice says over the phone.

“5 5 8 4 3 7” You state clearly.

“thank you agent (Y/N), we’re calling about a few M.I.A. cleaners? it says in our system that you were the last to call. is everything alright?”

“ye-es~” You feel something rubbing your g-spot and look over at Francis. ‘stop, now.’ You mouth silently. He just smirks and speeds up.

“are you sure? you sound like you’re being threatened” The man on the phone asks.

“mhm~, im fine sir, just a little shaky” You put your hand over the phone speaker and look at Francis.

“what the fuck is wrong with you??” You ask, interrupting yourself with a few moans.

“just a little thirsty for some water” He thrusts harder, causing him to hit your g-spot, and your clit back to back.

You cover your mouth with your shirt and moan into it, hearing the buzz of a voice on the phone. Honestly you should be scared, they could show any minute, but right now, you could care less.

“im gonna cum” You whisper, still being mindful of the potential listeners.

“yeah?” He grabs a young and stands straight up, slamming you down into his cock. You let out something just short of a scream into the crook of his neck and find yourself twitching and shaking in his grip.

You heard a splash and felt him fill you up with his seed. You both were a moaning, groaning mess, heavily breathing in place.

“(Y/N), do you copy?……. we’re on our way” The phone then hangs up and the low buzzy voice is replaced with a prominent beep.

“you have to go, they’re coming” You lazily try to leave his strong hold with a tired push against his chest.

“but first” He puts you back on the desk where you rest your back against the cold glass window. “a drink..” His tongue grows longer right infont of you, and cleans you from your ankles to your navel, and of course he ran it over the bundle of nerves he’s been abusing all night, making your body jolt.

“you’re so delicious… i wish i could always taste you” His tongue goes back to its normal size.

“well i’ll get going now… i’ll be seeing you again soon, love. i’ll try not to cause too much trouble next time…” He gives you a peppery kiss on the nose and leaves.

Well, that’s one way to end your day shift…

#ciaoteamo #x reader #imagine #smut #milkman smut #milkman x reader #milk the man #milkman #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses

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gloomwitchwrites · 5 months ago

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Thinking about…Neighbor!141 AU

Neighbor!Price just moved in next door. He’s handsome. Single. And he’s the landlord. Sure, you pay him rent and go to him with any issues, but it’s still fun to flirt, especially since he gives it right back. At a small building function, you allow the alcohol to get the better of you. You’re not going to be late on rent this month, but you still make the offer of paying a different way. Didn’t think he’d be open to the idea, did you?

Neighbor!Soap is the newest tenant in the building, a veterinarian. Unbeknownst to you, your child goes knocking on his door, asking if he can fix their stuffed animal. It needed a wash, but the machine ate a leg. Soap delivers your child, and newly stitched stuffed animal to you, only to casually mention going for coffee.

Neighbor!Gaz who finds you one morning knocking on his front door wrapped in only a towel. A spider, apparently. You panicked. Locked yourself out. There’s still shampoo in your hair, and Gaz offers you his shower (and some spare clothes). Why not? What could it hurt? Not like you did it on purpose…

Neighbor!Ghost who is always over at your flat fixing little things (and big things) because the landlord sucks and won’t fix/replace shit. You always apologize for asking, but Ghost insists that he enjoys helping. Little do you know that Ghost has roped the landlord (Price) into the scheme of dragging his feet on fixing things. Ghost thinks you’re cute, and wants every excuse to spend time with you.

main masterlist

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malinaa · 1 year ago

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if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing

#imagine you're a boy who's going to die. you're in love with the girl you've been watching from afar. you know your fate.#you just want to help her‚ but then there's the announcement and she's here in front of you‚ kissing you‚ risking her life for you and you #think‚ i could live and i could love. you think she loves you when she hands you the berries‚ when she puts them in her mouth.#then you both survive and you go back home and nothing is real anymore. you have nothing. no family. no friends. no love. just an empty #house. a drunk for a neighbor. the love of your life walking into somebody else's arms. you think‚ i survived the games. i could survive #this. and you also think‚ i should've bit down on those berries‚ should've felt the juice burst before i died.#and then the third quarter quell announcement rings in your ears and you think‚ she will live and i will die as i should have in the first #place. the girl you love kisses you on the beach and somewhere you heart stirs and your mind revolts and you savor every touch she has ever #given to you‚ in front of the cameras and off. because you are a tribute and you are always being watched and snow's presence looms and #you think‚ i know she cares. but you get taken. you get drugged. you get tortured‚ your mind altered. the girl is a mutt‚ a murderer. she's #everything you despise‚ your mind stirs. your heart revolts. you gain more awareness but cannot distinguish reality from fiction and you #have never known katniss' love. the war ends. you heal. you come home. you plant primrose for her. years down the line‚ you grow in love #more than you thought possible. but some days‚ you cannot tell fiction from reality so you ask the love of your life‚ you love me.#real or not real? and she says‚ real‚ and kisses you.#and you sigh and kiss her back and revel in this. a home. a life. a love.#lit #the hunger games #everlark #otp: real or not real?#katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #text #tais toi lys #thgpost #*

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shouyuus · 4 months ago

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sfw; modern neighbor!vi au

cool but enough about that. thinking about vi who lives in the same apartment building as you and is on the same floor just a few doors down, who sees you struggling with some boxes when moving in so she sweeps in to your rescue and well i mean you're not one to look a-gift-horse-muscular-butch in the mouth when she's so valiantly offering to carry these boxes for you.

who introduces herself and tells you that she lives here with her sister, who's studying mechanical engineering at the university. her? oh, she's a freelancer! you know how it is these days, teaches boxing at the local gym, helps her dad with the family bar on the weekends sometimes, "bit of this and a bit of that." and it sounds like she doesn't wanna talk about it all that much so you don't ask.

you ask her in for a cup of coffee, say it's the least you can do to thank her for helping you with the boxes.

"pleasure's mine, helping a pretty girl like you."

woof.

you swallow, busying yourself with your beat up little moka pot, asking her if she wants sugar or creamer. both, she says, and you pause, looking over your shoulder. she's leant up against your half-unpacked sofa, her arms knitted loosely over her chest.

"what? i've always like my stuff with a little bit of sugar."

it's a simple enough statement but the way she says it makes all your fingers and toes tingle. you swallow, fiddling with the fraying edges of your sweater sleeve.

"yeah, no -- that's --"

you jump as the moka starts to bubble and you pull it off the stove, feeling the same heat working it's way into your skin.

it's easy, so easy, after that. she offers to help you unpack (only if you need it of course) and well, you could use another pair of hands. you tell her that you'll pay her in pizza, and she smiles so wide you can see the hint of a dimple etching itself into her cheek.

you end up spending the whole day together, and when all the boxes are broken down and tamped into a pile by the door, your fingers grease-stained, sitting curled up on your now fully built-out couch, with plastic cups of prosecco, she sighs, staring into the bubbling liquid with a smile just a hitch away from sadness.

"cool! well -- thanks for the pizza," she sets down the cup and pushes up off the couch. you clear your throat and scramble up as well, pressing your palms into your thighs.

"no! thank you for helping me --" you motion around your apartment, "and uh --" you chew on your lips, teetering on the balls of your feet.

"if you ever wanna hang out," vi says, grinning as she rounds the sofa, glancing over her shoulder, "i'm just two doors down."

you slump down onto the sofa, pressing a hand to your chest, feeling it's wild, fluttering beat beneath your palm as you try to steady your breathing.

a few days later, you knock on her door, only to find a girl with shocking blue space buns and a pair of magnifying goggles on her head that make her look truly unhinged.

"who're you?"

you blink, fingers clutched around a large mug.

"uh -- uhm -- i just -- i moved in to the unit two doors down a few days ago and i was -- i was wondering if i could -- borrow some... sugar?" you hold out the mug, wondering if you've just royally fucked up.

"powder? who's at the door?" vi's voice calls out just as the girl with blue hair opens her mouth.

powder pauses, a sly smirk twisting the edge of her lips as she pushes up her goggles to reveal bright blue eyes just a few shades darker than vi's.

"oh no one, juuuuust... the super cute neighbor you couldn't shut up about from a few days ag --"

something clanks from further in the apartment and the girl named powder gets yanked back as vi appears, wide-eyed and a bit disheveled, clearing her throat as she almost crashes into her doorframe.

"h-hi! what -- what're you doing here?"

"i uhm --" you swallow, warmth prickling beneath your skin.

"sugar," powder says, rolling her eyes, waving a hand as she prances back into the apartment.

"sugar...?" vi asks, almost uncomprehending.

you lick your lips, holding out the cup, "yeah... i -- uh -- ran out..."

vi blinks down at the empty mug for a second too long before her eyes flash up to meet yours.

"yeah? what've you been up to, using so much sugar?"

you lick your lips, biting down on our bottom lip as she steps back to motion you into the apartment. it's not big, but it is cozy, sticky-notes and doodles littering almost every available surface, cups with day-old coffee/water/tea cluttered on the countertops. but vi reaches up into the cupboards and tugs down the sugar bag.

"i --" you cut off as she fills up your cup.

you don't want to tell her that you were trying to bake cupcakes of all things. and for her no less.

"ahh... don't wanna tell me? s'okay -- fine then, keep your secrets," she teases, shooting you a tiny wink as she leans up to put the sugar back.

"it's --" you nearly trip over your words as they tumble out of you, "i was -- wanted to make some cupcakes -- f-for... you..." you force out, turning away as her eyes widen slightly, "but i keep fucking up the measurements so --" you chance her another glance.

vi watches you with a soft smile, leaning against her kitchen counter.

"for me, sugar?"

you nod, now feeling impossibly hot as she vi slates you a knowing smile.

"well, lemme know when you're done," she says, "and uh..." she glances down at your sugar cup, "don't be afraid to put in a little extra for me, okay?"

you walk back to your own apartment in a daze, staring down at the cup of white sugar grains as you finally get back to your kitchen and set the mug down. you look at the two batches of failed cupcakes sitting on the counter and sigh, a helpless little smile ticking up the corner of your lips as you remember the twinkle in vi's eyes as she'd told you to add a little more sugar for her.

you drop your face into your hands with a loud groan, slumping back onto the couch, letting your feet dangle off the side as you stare at the light-stricken ceiling.

and you say, to no one in particular --

"i am so, so fucked."

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1d1195 · 6 months ago

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Buttercup

~7.8k words

From me: I love a knight in shining armor moment. Grumpy sunshine, black cat and golden retriever kind of vibe. There are definitely some details missing on purpose here. Best of luck. Hope you like it 💕 Sorry for the delay in posting. What a week.

Warnings: dick ex-bf - cheating, emotional trauma, threatening. Angry Harry, neighbor Harry, some mentions of sex, a good bit of angst, and some fluff.

Summary: Harry's new neighbor is fun to prank. She just wants to tend to her garden and enjoy her chocolate in peace.

But it's... comforting to know Harry is right next door.

The boys that lived next door weren’t too loud, weren’t super messy, and they were easy on the eyes.

But that was the furthest she could compliment them.

Well, Louis was really lovely overall. He had a girlfriend that came by frequently (almost daily) and appeared to keep him in check. But there was no one to keep Harry in check. He walked around his yard in his boxers, got the mail in them even, and both greeted his sexual partner(s) then sent her on her way off his property the following morning in nothing but boxers as well.

All with a smug smile in her direction while he wore nothing but underwear and the ink etched on his unbelievably smooth skin.

Stupid hot people.

Regardless of what he was doing, he was always sure to irritate her if she was outside. “Hi Buttercup,” he cooed like they were old friends while she worked in her garden. It was clearly her favorite part of the house. It desperately needed a new coat of paint, and she didn’t care in the slightest. The flowers were more important, and she did a good job. Clearing the flowerbeds happened before all her boxes were officially inside her house.

She thought about the day she arrived.

When she moved in, she took a deep breath, pulled her hair into a ponytail and tugged it through the back of a baseball cap. One by one, she pulled a box out of her car and brought it inside. A storage pod was dropped in the driveway as well and then she began the same process after taking a short break while she looked at what she needed to do first. She leaned against her car and felt anxiety and a serious case of being overwhelmed start to fill her chest. She took deep breaths hoping the sugar she ingested would help ease her worried mind.

“Hey, neighbor!” She turned to the voice where a guy with brown hair and blue eyes smiled brightly at her. “I’m Louis, welcome to our neighborhood. It’s nice to meet you. Need help?”

She shook her head quickly. Almost defensive as she aimed to protect herself. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Louis glanced at her storage pod and tilted his head at her curiously. It was a lot to unpack on her own.

Metaphorically and literally.

“You’re sure?” He asked. “My roommate saw you from the window. Thought you were... well, not struggling... But it’s a lot to move for anyone. He’s changing, he’ll be right out to help too,” he explained and rubbed the back of his head. “My girlfriend was on the phone and overheard Harry, and she insisted as well.”

She thought that he was nice. A friendly neighbor if there ever was one. But the wall of anxiety she put up and the nerve she was feigning to keep up was battling something fierce. “Right,” she cleared her throat. She would need an ally. There was no one in this new town for her and Louis seemed nice.

Levi seemed nice too... she thought.

Shaking her head she tried to rid herself of the negative outlook. Louis wasn’t Levi. “That... that’s really nice. Thank you. If you’re sure.”

Louis’ best friend and roommate Harry soon joined them. Introduced himself and she sincerely thought they were just two nice guys who would be decent neighbors.

The second they dropped the first load of her stuff safely inside Harry began his pranks. “Is this box labeled underwear up for grabs?”

There was no box labeled underwear. She knew that. But it still made her cheeks burn with embarrassment even though Louis rolled his eyes as if was used to it. Which she supposed he was. “Christ, Harry,” Louis sighed and pinched between his eyes. “I’m sorry, love. We don’t let him out of the house much.”

She looked at him with an eye roll. He was cute. She would give him that.

Well, hot.

Enticing green eyes, sinewy muscles, and a smile so bright it could put the sun to shame. He knew he was hot. There was no way he didn’t. But she wasn’t going to let him get to her.

“Where are y’moving from?” Harry asked.

“Uh...” she shook her head trying to remember what lie she was supposed to say. But then went with most of the truth. “Just upstate, a few hours away. I got a new job and whatnot.”

“New modeling job?”

“Boo...” Louis droned, grumbling as he moved boxes labeled kitchen into the correct room. “If you’re going to embarrass yourself, you could use better material.”

“This is m’best material, Lou,” he scowled at his friend. Her cheeks were still burning at his shameless flirting.

“I know he’s obnoxious, but he’s harmless,” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Excuse you, Louis. M’not obnoxious.”

“The shit you say,” he shook his head.

“I jus’ think you’re gorgeous,” his eyelashes did all the flirting for him when his words stopped.

But whether Harry was flirting or not, she didn’t want to flirt with her neighbor. Didn’t want to have a boyfriend. Certainly not one with all the charisma he had around her.

Even if he was flirty and charming.

And hot.

There was no denying how hot Harry was.

So she would have to be careful.

“Looking good, Buttercup.”

She glared at the tulip bulbs she was planting in front of her door for the spring. She adjusted the planters of mums placed on the porch steps. A variety of gold, orange, brown and red. Perfect for fall and the idyllic picture for a magazine cover. There were pumpkins on the side of the bottom step greeting anyone at her home with the pretty festive colors. A cute scarecrow was staked among fake corn stalks and hay beside the pumpkins.

It was unseasonably warm for November but for the last two months, and even though Harry drove her crazy, she wanted to be outside enjoying the sunshine and fresh air while she could. She had listened to Harry’s flirting with her since the moment she moved in. He was blatant about it. But in the same timeframe, she watched him with women coming and going. Of course, it didn’t bother her one bit who he spent his time with; that was his choice, and he had no obligation to her or the women he took home as long as he wasn’t a complete douchebag to them.

But Harry always seemed to be there. He was there when she got her mail. There when she got home from work. There when she was going to work. It didn’t matter. Didn’t he have to work? “Are businesses too intelligent to hire you?”

“No?” He chuckled phrasing it as a question.

“Just assumed, since you’re never at work.”

He snorted. “Funny.” She continued tending to her flowers. “I work from home.”

Perfect. So he would continue to always be there. Some people had all the luck.

He wasn’t in his boxers for a change. An interesting change of pace. He was in a pair of plain jogging pants and a plain T-shirt, yet he was the one that looked like a model for Nike.

Men had it so easy being attractive. A pair of workout pants and a T-shirt that outlined his pectorals way too tightly was all it took to get her flustered.

He sat beside her and watched her work. “Y’should do our garden, next Buttercup. Looks so nice the way y’put everything together.”

She paused and stared at him. His eyes roamed her little planters and across the weedless yard. He smiled at her as his gaze returned to hers. “You’re making fun of me,” she scowled.

“Kitten,” he pressed a hand over his heart, looking affronted. “I would never make fun of you.”

She looked back at the dirt that was under her nails. She focused on the feeling of it rather than the feeling of dread she felt around Harry. He was so confident in himself and in everything he did. It was annoying. His stupid green eyes and his dumb smile. She couldn’t fall for it again. No matter how sincere he sounded.

“Y’look really pretty in y’garden,” his voice was gentle. Like he was worried she was going to throw something at him. She had considered it. Her trowel seemed like it could do some damage. But she was trying not to be completely ridiculous just because Harry was a pain.

And sickening.

And irritating.

And cute.

Fortunately, she had a list of things to remind herself of that he was a nuisance. Not to mention there were his pranks that made her crazy.

He sprayed her with the hose when she wasn’t looking. Sent mail to her house for porn addiction making the mailman look at her with a smirk before she screamed at Harry (which didn’t help the look the mailman was giving her). At the beginning of October, he put a Halloween mask outside her window to scare her when she woke up so terrifyingly that Louis and Eleanor rushed over in their pajamas. While nothing was irreparable or worth putting her into therapy, the jokes made her mad because Harry always made her mad. He was too good looking and too there all the time.

Instead, she continued weeding and planting. Making the previously bare flower beds green and brown with freshly overturned dirt. It was calming. Being in the garden, the yard. Dirt on her hands and the sun on her back.

“Cat got your tongue, Buttercup?” He joked.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“The more y’ignore me, kitten, jus’ makes me want y’more.”

“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

“Ugh, will you marry me?”

“You’re so ridiculous, Harry.”

“God, y’drive me wild.”

She continued digging in the dirt. “If you’re going to sit there and be annoying, can you at least be useful and hand me the watering can?”

Harry silently grabbed the can and poured the water into the hole, watching her carefully. “I used t’garden with m’Mum.”

“You didn’t just spawn from the ground climbing out of hell?”

Harry chuckled quietly. “No, m’mum’s a saint,” he said with a smile. The fondness in his voice and reverence for her made her heart skip a beat. He was so annoying but that was undoubtedly beyond sweet. Even if it was Harry saying it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your mother.”

“Y’didn’t. I know what y’meant,” he chuckled. “Mum would like you,” he told her. Which absolutely terrified her because mothers often did. It made things more complicated. Like it had in the past.

“She would like me? I’m an absolute bitch to you, Harry.”

“Hey,” he frowned. “Don’t say that,” the sincerity in his voice continued making her throat catch on any rebuttal she wanted to say in return. The pucker of skin between his eyebrows made her want to reach out and smooth his skin. His frown made her sad too. Before she could push the feeling away, he spoke again. “You’re funny. Stubborn. Adorable. Mum would like that y’keep me grounded,” he complimented.

“Keeping you grounded is the nice way of saying bitchy.”

He sighed, irritation practically rolling off him in waves. That was new. “Seriously, kitten. Knock it off,” he shook his head disappointedly.

She blinked, surprised by the genuine tone. “You’re serious?”

“Jus’ because y’say it ‘bout yourself doesn’t make it better.”

For a whole minute she seriously thought about how easy it would be to fall for Harry. He was handsome, intelligent, kind, and funny. Even if he was obnoxious. Louis and Eleanor kept him around for a reason, right? For God’s sake he wouldn’t let her call herself a bitch. Who did that?! “Um... sorry?”

“Apology not accepted. You’ll have t’go on a date with me. S’the only way t’make it up t’me.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the bulbs she was planting. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Alright fine; I’ll jus’ have t’think of something else,” he sighed, pausing, like he was really thinking about how she could make it up to him.

Then he smeared a clod of cold, wet dirt across her cheek.

She spluttered trying to avoid dirt in her mouth and reached out to smack him. However, he was nearly giggling, practically running back to his house before she could register what really happened and retaliate. “See y’later, Buttercup!” He called.

One of Harry’s ongoing pranks involved slipping his phone number into her contacts early on when he met her. It happened shortly after she moved in, and it allowed him to send her memes and inappropriate messages (not the kind of unsolicited messages that only complete dicks sent to women who did not want them) but the ones that he found on the internet. Inappropriate jokes. Innuendos.

But he also texted her when he was heading to the grocery store to see if she needed anything. But in the time that they exchanged messages, she never started the conversations. It was always a Leave me alone Harry. No thank you. Can you stop staring out the window like a creep? If she needed something she asked Louis, which honestly upset him to a degree, but he understood. Harry came on strong when he met her. Not that he would change that, but it wasn’t unreasonable of her to feel standoffish to him.

God, was she beautiful. Harry loved seeing her in the yard. Made it a point to drop everything he was doing and go get a closer look. He was drawn to her. Moth to a flame. The whole bit. She was so funny, even when she was grumpy. He wasn’t joking when he told her that her ignoring him made him want her more.

She was a hard worker and left early in the morning and returned well into dinner time. While the weather was nice, she would sit on her porch and read or work tirelessly on her perfect garden. She was lovely. Harry could see it from afar and he was bummed she didn’t catch on to his shameless flirting the way he had hoped when he first saw her.

One of these days I’d like you to text me instead of Louis when you need something. Louis already has a girlfriend.

From the looks of it you have PLENTY of options for a girlfriend.

Jealous?

Of getting a disease? No. I’m good.

Your green thumb is spreading, Buttercup. It’s not your color.

You can ignore me all you want. Just think about it. It doesn’t have to be a thing. I just want you to know I’m happy to help you if you need it. Not just Louis.

Also, I’m clean in case you ever want to explore that side of things too 😉

Surprisingly, she ignored that message too.

Harry felt like he was going through withdrawals from her. He hadn’t even seen her in the yard. Between the rain and their work schedules, it was like he couldn’t get a glimpse of her pretty being tending to the weeds, reading her book, or anything. His joke asking her what she plays with at night that also vibrates went unanswered.

Maybe he should have stopped sending her inappropriate jokes, but the fact she hadn’t blocked him gave him the shred of hope he desperately wanted. Maybe if she had blocked him it would get through his head that she was out of his league, and she wasn’t interested.

I’m heading home to shower, change, and then I’ll come grab you. It was Niall though, and not her reply to his joke.

Harry put cologne on and settled in the living room quietly scrolling through his social media looking at the time stamp from his message, almost a whole day ago. Frowning, he returned to scrolling and waiting for Niall. Not thinking much of anything of merit as he did.

But then that little notification slid from the top of his phone making his heart bounce with excitement.

Harry, are you home?

Is it finally happening?! 😍

There was no response and Harry thought he ruined their moment. Even if he believed her when she said they would never sleep together, he was glad she was talking to him. He was worried his latest prank had gone too far.

Harry’s car was in the garage, and he had almost every light off since he was leaving soon, so it was a fair question since she couldn’t see the back of his house where he was hiding in his room.

I was kidding, Buttercup. I’m home. You could have just come over to ask though.

There was still no response, but he kept his phone in hand waiting and holding his breath. Hoping something would come through from her again.

Pick some flowers from my yard.

Come knock on the door like we’re supposed to be going on a date.

Please.

And hurry.

Please.

What?

...?

Kitten...what’s wrong?

He tried calling her immediately, but it went right to voicemail, like she had turned her phone off after sending her last message.

What the hell. Why aren’t you answering your phone?

This isn’t funny, Buttercup...

You’re making me nervous.

If this was a retaliation prank it went way too far. Way further than putting the mini popping firecrackers under her tires before she left for work. The very one that got her so mad, he thought she was going to call the cops finally. The one that made her ignore him for days on end despite the messages he sent.

But this wasn’t funny. Not even a little. Her safety and security weren’t things Harry liked to joke about because despite everything, he was possessive about her. And frankly, he adored her. Even if she wasn’t his to obsess over nor adore.

But he wasn’t going to ignore her any longer than he had to. He nearly sprinted out the door, swiping randomly at her pretty flowers and feeling horrible that he was pulling her precious plants after all the hard work she put into them. It seemed silly to spend time doing this, but he didn’t want to fuck up what she asked him to do. Not when her messages seemed so worrisome. Not when she didn’t answer. With a fresh bouquet in hand, he hurried to the front door. Fortunately, he was dressed for a night out. Niall would be on his way to pick him up; so, he was, in theory, date ready. But the thought of being with Niall and not home when she needed him terrified him further. Thank God he was home.

Harry had no idea what was on the other side of her door, but it was embarrassingly late in the moment that he realized there was a car in the driveway he hadn’t seen before. At once he realized she never had company. Which only made him even more anxious.

Swallowing, he knocked firmly.

The door flew open within ten seconds of his knock. The relief in her eyes made Harry feel sick. What was she so nervous about? What could make her that nervous, that seeing him made her at ease? She was constantly irritated by his presence. The moment only made him feel worse. “Harry, right on time,” she smiled sweetly. She was a good actress. If she hadn’t texted Harry so urgently, he wouldn’t be looking for signs of trouble, wouldn’t see the relief in her eyes, and he would have no idea that something was wrong.

“Hi kitten, don’t y’look beautiful,” he cooed leaning down to press a kiss to her cheekbone as if he had done it a thousand times before. Gratefully, he had imagined it about a thousand times, so it probably looked as natural as it felt. Plus, she was beautiful. Always. The acting came naturally to him as well. His arm wrapped around her waist in the same movement instinctively. His eyes fell to the man standing a few feet back watching her like a hawk. His gaze was territorial and possessive; Harry didn’t care for that at all. Even if she wasn’t Harry’s, she definitely wasn’t his either.

But Harry was possessive, and he was there because she asked him to be there. Something he got the feeling the other man did not have permission for. He knew he shouldn’t have felt possessive of her, but he would pretend all the same if it meant the worry in her eyes would go away.

He handed her the bouquet he plucked only moments before and threaded their fingers together; another movement that felt like he had done before and not for the very first time that second. “Let’s get a vase,” he suggested and kept his eyes on him. It wasn’t lost on him how easily her fingers fit between his, the way their palms touched, or how her grip tightened ever so slightly when she settled her grip in his. “Hey,” he nodded his head in greeting.

The guy ignored Harry. His eyes glaring at the pretty girl beside him. “You’re seriously telling me you’ve been dating this guy since the moment you moved in?”

Her cheeks burned red, and Harry kissed the top of her head tucking her toward his chest protectively. Harry didn’t care for it at all. If the anxiety in her texts, expressions, and body language wasn’t enough evidence, then the way she leaned further into his chest despite everything and how annoyed she was by him, certainly was. “M’Harry,” his voice was firm. Pointed. “And you are?”

He grunted, shook his head. “The fuck, babe?” He snapped. She didn’t respond, simply glanced up to meet Harry’s gaze. She blinked unsurely at Harry, unable to find her next move. Harry nudged her gently toward the kitchen.

“Do y’have a name or what?” Harry grumbled over his shoulder as he made a show of caressing her while she found a vase. Her hands were shaking slightly as she placed the vase in the sink. Fortunately, Harry saw it immediately and tugged the glass from her grip, pulling her hand back in his. Even if it was impractical and stupid looking while he placed the vase with one hand in her sink to finish what she was doing.

“Levi,” he snapped. “We apparently used to date.”

Harry felt her body deflate. He wondered why. Was it the prospect of dating this asshole? Was it the phrase used to? What happened before he got here?

“Well, Levi, glad we’re on the same page and you’re using the past tense. M’here t’take my girlfriend on a date,” he pressed his body around hers, bracketing her body against the sink. She kept her eyes down, away from Levi’s gaze. Her body felt so warm against his it made him wish this wasn’t for show. Instead, he bent down to kiss the crook of her neck and shoulder hoping she wouldn’t hate him later over it.

He was really into pretending. She squeezed his hands that were wrapped around hers against the edge of counter. Was that a thanks? Was that a sigh he imagined when he kissed her skin? God, she smelled good.

“M’not sure exactly what’s going on here, but m’getting a good sense that she doesn’t want y’here. So maybe s’a good time t’go before I have t’escort y’out of the house.”

He snorted and shook his head. He glared at Harry as he spoke, but her eyes were still cast down toward the sink. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, babe. You can try and fool me all you want. But I’m not stupid. I’ll come back when your boyfriend isn’t around,” he left the kitchen and slammed her front door shut as he exited. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Begrudgingly, he left her by the sink and went to the front door, peering out the small window right next to the frame. He watched while Levi pulled out of her driveway and down the road. Harry stood and watched, waiting for the sound of his car to completely disappear before he felt he wasn’t coming back any time soon. Harry locked her deadbolt.

“Who was that—” He started as he turned back for the kitchen, but his heart practically broke at the sight of his stubborn, fearless, and utterly pretty neighbor teary eyed and shaken to the core. She left the kitchen near silently it seemed but stopped in the hall right before the entryway of the front door. He didn’t even hear her approach. “Hey,” he cooed coming closer. “Buttercup,” he frowned when she didn’t respond to her nickname. “Hey,” it was like he was approaching a wounded, wild animal. He didn’t want to scare her, but God did he want to protect her. God, did he want to hold her again. “Love, he’s gone. I—” He wanted to reach out for her and pull her into his embrace again, but something about her looked off. The anxiety written all over her face made him nervous and sad.

He zoned in on her hands; they were shaking by her sides worse than the way she held the vase. Her eyes were so fucking sad looking Harry wanted to scream. “Kitten,” he tried again. “Can I...?” He reached for her again. “M’not going to...” all his sentences were half finished as he tried to figure out why the fuck Levi scared her so badly. All he wanted was to comfort her. She was too sweet and pretty to look so terrified. When she never looked scared of anything. “Buttercup,” he murmured again.

She sniffled and swiped at her eyes. “I’m fine,” but her voice was barely audible over the sound of it getting caught around the emotion in her throat.

“Hey, s’okay t’not be okay. M’here,” he promised holding his hands out to her. “Can I touch you?” He asked. She shook her head quickly. It hurt like hell for her to say no. Harry thought he was seriously going to cry. “Okay, okay,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets because he didn’t trust himself not to try and comfort her and the last thing that he ever wanted to do was break her trust and consent. “Baby, you’re breaking my heart,” he pouted and watched as she was starting to shake like she was in the middle of a blizzard without a coat. “Come sit,” he begged. “Please.”

She obeyed and Harry went to her kitchen and found a glass in the cabinet as if this was his own house. He got water from the dispenser on her fridge, and he brought it to her. Her hands were still shaking violently, and her tears were flowing but not a sound other than a quiet sniffle left her. “Here, Buttercup,” he mumbled.

She sniveled and wiped her eyes as she took the cup from him. He avoided brushing her fingers with his and he paced in front of the coffee table. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he caught sight of the time. “Fuck,” he muttered. Pressing the phone to his ear he glanced out the window. “Sorry Niall. Can’t come out,” he ran a hand on the back of his head. She perked up at his words.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“No... I don’t know.... I just need t’be here for her,” he mumbled.

“Harry, you don’t—”

He silenced her with a look while her words died in her throat with another little whimper. Being vulnerable was hard for her. Obviously. Harry wondered if she knew how difficult it was for him to watch her look so upset and scared and not comfort her. If he knew letting go of her in the kitchen meant he wouldn’t get to touch her again, he wouldn’t have let go to start.

He hung up without hearing Niall’s response and he put his phone in his back pocket.

“If you have plans—”

“I don’t,” he interrupted shaking his head quickly. “Jus’ a date with a pretty girl,” he sat across from her on the coffee table making sure that not even his knee bumped against her. His eyes were following her every breath. Every tiny movement and flinch. The nervousness he felt was painful. Waiting for something to make sense. The water in her glass rippled and practically splashed over the side from how hard she was shaking. Harry wanted nothing more than to take it from her grip. But instead, he patiently waited until she sipped it.

“I’m okay,” her voice was nothing more than air. Even if it wasn’t, Harry wouldn’t believe her.

“Baby,” he frowned. “No one sends a message like that if they’re not worried about their safety. I’m worried ‘bout your safety. So don’t pretend t’be okay if you’re not. I’ll stay all night, sitting right here, and stare at you.”

She snorted. “That sounds like watching paint dry.”

He shrugged. “You’re far more interesting and prettier than paint drying.”

She swiped at her eyes again looking at her lap. “He cheated on me.”

“What a fucking moron,” he mumbled and tilted his head at the ceiling. Harry would never understand how the luckiest men in the world treated lovely, beautiful girls like her as if they were nothing. “He wants y’back?”

She shrugged, shook her head, and nodded. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want him back?”

She whimpered and shook her head. Squeezing her eyes shut so tight, he worried she was going to split open her lids. “God, no,” she whispered.

Harry sighed, rubbed his palms on his thighs. “Can y’talk t’me, kitten? M’not leaving unless y’tell me to. Do y’want me t’leave?” It would kill him. Sincerely, truly kill him. But if she didn’t want him there, he would go.

“I can’t,” she was sobbing. It was killing him. It hurt so much not to hold her and comfort her.

“Okay, okay. I’ll... I’ll jus’... go back t’my house... Yeah? If y’need something, jus’...” he rubbed a hand over his face feeling like he was walking on a bed of glass saying the words. “Call, text, throw rocks at m’window,” he stood, mindful to not bump her knee. He smiled weakly at his own joke. It wasn’t returned. He didn’t know what to do or say. He didn’t know how to help the sweet, lovely girl. The smile fell from his lips when she didn’t respond. “Jus’... lock the door behind me, Buttercup, yeah?”

It felt like he was walking toward his death, but he left her living room and waited until he heard her deadbolt lock before he descended her porch steps.

She dropped the glass of water Harry gave her in the kitchen after she let Harry leave. It shattered into a million microscopic pieces and the flowers from her garden looked so unbelievably pretty she wished Harry really was taking her on a date.

She covered her mouth around another broken sob. Her eyes felt red and raw, and the pressure of her sinuses and the front of her forehead ached beyond words. She was safe. She was okay. But her chest hurt.

Levi was gone. Harry came to her rescue. After she was mean and grumpy toward him. Trying to protect her heart after it hurt six ways to Sunday because of the man that let himself into her home without permission. Harry didn’t even try to touch her without permission. She could tell he wanted to. Hell, she wanted him to... but everything hurt, and she was just so scared.

Maybe it was too late. But she needed him. Really needed Harry to hold her and comfort her. Her mind ran rampant with thoughts of how lovely it was to be held by him. The kiss on her skin. He was warm and solid. Safe. That’s what she wanted. To feel safe. Her heart ached with want.

Immediately after the thought of his warm solid body around hers, she raced out of the kitchen and unlocked her door. She was ready to fly down the steps of her porch, cross her yard and his hoping he would have the door open before she even arrived.

But Harry was already there; at the bottom of the third and final step of her porch.

He never even left.

Harry stood and turned as soon as he heard the deadbolt open, standing only seconds before she was ready to blow right past him. “Oh, thank God,” he whispered to himself.

Without any more pause, she was in his embrace. Her arms around his neck and she sobbed openly into his shoulder. His hands felt so big and safe on her body, just as she predicted.

He hummed something into her hair. Something like “M’here,” in his gravelly, pretty voice. “I have you,” he soothed. “Oh kitten, m’so sorry,” his voice sounded like he wanted to cry as much as she was. Poor Harry. He didn’t deserve to feel so sad. Not because of her and her messed up life. “C’mon, Buttercup,” he scooped behind her knees and cradled her as he carried her back inside to her sofa, locking the door behind them as he entered.

“Don’t leave me, please,” she begged, sniffling into his shirt.

“Never, baby. Never, ever, ever,” he promised rubbing her back. “Not unless y’ask.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “But I will ask,” she sniffed. “Because I’m too much. I’m sad, scared, broken, and damaged.”

“Y’not any of those things, kitten. Certainly not damaged, Buttercup.”

“But I am,” she whimpered. “You have no idea. He messed me up so bad... and I... I don’t,” she choked. “I pushed you away already.”

It wasn’t much, but the little bit she opened up her heart to him meant the world to him. It was almost as good as holding her. But nothing could replace that feeling now that he had it. He stroked her face with the back of his hand. “I wasn’t far,” he shrugged.

He didn’t even leave her porch. Was he going to stay out there all night? Her heart felt achy, and her eyes were already raw with tears but if they weren’t she would have cried at the thought of her obnoxious neighbor sleeping on the bottom step of her porch in the cold all because she was broken.

“You just wanted to help, and touch and hold me, and I wouldn’t let you—”

“Kitten,” he said sternly. He cupped below her jaw and stared right into her pupils like he was speaking directly to her soul. “Let’s get one thing very clear. I will never touch you without permission. No one has any right t’touch you unless y’ask.”

A sob escaped her throat and then she buried her face against his chest. His body was so broad and warm. She imagined if they were without heat or power, she would still be warm. “But I want you to touch me. All the time. Every second I’m around you,” there was no use denying it. Not when she couldn’t lift her face from his shirt.

Harry sighed with relief. “Well good,” he squeezed her affectionately. “Baby,” he stroked his thumb below her eye. “What happened?”

She shivered and Harry pulled the blanket that was on the back of her sofa over them. Her personality was huge and beautiful. She invaded Harry’s every thought. In the same room, she was in every air particle. Outside in her garden she was every little piece of dirt, petal, stem, root and all. She was larger than life.

It killed him she felt so small in his arms.

“I knew he was cheating, and he didn’t want me to leave,” she sniffed. Harry nodded, his teeth ground together. His jaw tensed. Waiting for her to continue. “He said I was overreacting. Our relationship was stale, and we just needed something to spice things up.”

She turned her face to his shirt and Harry cupped the back of her head, his fingers sliding and massaging his fingertips against the back of her skull. “He’s an idiot, Buttercup. A stupid, idiotic, horrible excuse for a man,” he grumbled.

She swallowed and didn’t say anything for a few moments. Harry holding her felt like medicine was sinking into her skin and directly into her bloodstream. Harry didn’t force her to speak. He didn’t ask questions. He just held her. She was sure he wanted to know more. Wanted to know all the gritty details that resulted in her moving in the middle of the night and finding this house next to his.

But there was only one thing she could think about.

“Why do you call me Buttercup?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t answer for several seconds. His free hand was on the small of her back, pressing gently to get her frame even closer to his. “Can I kiss right here?” He asked ignoring her question. He brushed his thumb along her temple. She nodded and Harry followed the brush of his thumb with his lips.

“That’s nice,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “Jus’ wait ‘til y’get a real kiss,” he promised. “Gonna make y’fall in love with me.”

She didn’t want to tell him she already had because that seemed ridiculous. So ridiculous it made her a little breathless. “That good hmm?” She hummed.

“Never had a complaint.”

“That’s obvious,” she smirked.

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t sleep with all of them.”

“Not my business.”

“But it is... M’a gentleman first, kitten. Mum taught me well. I just like t’make m’date feel good,” he explained. “Doesn’t always include... y’know,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I know I drove y’crazy walking them out in m’boxers.”

“No, you didn’t,” she lied.

He chuckled. “S’okay t’admit it, kitten; don’t know what I would have done if y’had someone over and flaunted a date in jus’ your underwear.”

“You were trying to make me jealous?”

“I didn’t think y’were that stubborn.”

She wasn’t sure if Harry was avoiding her question or trying to distract her, but she still wanted an answer. “Why?” She asked quietly again.

“Why what?”

“Why do you call me buttercup?”

He sighed, kissed her temple again turning her insides warm and mushy. He didn’t speak for a few seconds like he didn’t really want to tell her. “Y’were eating a peanut buttercup,” he mumbled. “When y’moved in. Y’have wrappers all over the floor of y’car. On Halloween, y’didn’t pass out any of them, but I saw them in the grocery bags I carried in for you one time.”

She bit her lip wondering how she didn’t put it together. It was incredible he noticed that. “They’re my favorite,” her voice no more than air once more.

“And you’re mine,” he assured her, cupping the side of her face. “M’not going t’let him hurt you. I’ll break every bone in his body and mine if I have to.”

She blushed. “You don’t have to—”

“Buttercup, m’not joking,” he said cutting off her protest. “Y’don’t have t’be scared because m’never going t’let him get close t’you ever again,” he promised.

“He just said he was going to... wait until you leave, Harry. You can’t promise that.”

“Guess I won’t leave. Or you’ll have t’come home with me.”

“Harry,” she croaked.

“Kitten, m’not messing around with y’safety,” he reminded her. “I can stay here on the couch and y’can stay in your bed. It doesn’t have t’be a thing. M’staying t’keep y’safe. Don’t read into it if y’don’t want to.”

But she wanted to read into it. God, did she want to. Harry dropped everything the moment she texted him from the bathroom in a panic. He was only next door. Didn’t she want to believe all his pranks were his way of flirting? Didn’t she want to believe he liked her more than just annoying her?

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. He didn’t deserve a mess. He deserved one of the effortlessly beautiful girls that he brought home. The kind that knew how to curl their own hair and where to draw the contour lines when they did their makeup. “You don’t have to stay,” she shook her head.

“Kitten,” he tutted.

“No seriously—”

“You’re deflecting, baby.”

“I’m just—”

“Buttercup,” Harry’s hands felt so warm and perfect against her skin. He brought his other hand to her bare cheek. It looked like he was trying not to cry himself when she met his gaze. “You just told me y’would try t’push me away. I don’t want t’go. But I will. I’ll sleep on your porch if y’want me too,” he offered. “Please,” he whispered quietly. Gently, like he was worried he was going to scare her. “Don’t ask me t’leave you.”

There was a long pause. “Stay,” she murmured into his hand. Because she was too exhausted and scared to tell him to leave. Pressing her lips against his palm, she met his gaze and watched the hope bloom in his eyes with just one little word. “Please... please stay.”

Harry sighed with relief, pulling her tightly toward him and nodding. “Course, Buttercup. Of course.”

It had become routine. She arrived home from work, and there was Harry. Sitting on the bottom step of her porch. He waited for her while she gathered her belongings from her car. His smile was so stunning. Like a streetlight on a dark road. Bright, beautiful, and all for her. “Hey Buttercup,” he hummed as she approached. He stood and pulled the bag off her shoulder and carried it for her. It wasn’t even heavy. In the same movement, he pecked her cheek and pressed a hand to her lower back like he had done for the last six weeks since he started seeing her exclusively. Not a single girl with perfectly curled hair had been his driveway. No one with expertly contoured makeup. Harry stopped walking around his yard in his boxers (but now she wished he did it more). As he guided her toward the front door, he continued grinning like an idiot. “Did your day get better after lunch, kitten?”

She nodded, his encouraging text sent at lunchtime was meant to ease the frustration he could sense through her messages. It wasn’t lost on him that as much as he used to enjoy her frustration, he wanted nothing more than to ease it now. “M-hmm,” she smiled at him. “You?”

“Better now that you’re home.”

She rolled her eyes at him because while he stopped pranking her so much, he replaced it with the cheesiest thoughts and lines known to man. But there was no denying how it made her heart flutter. “Did you want to go out to eat?” She asked.

He shrugged, then nodded. “We can if y’want.”

“I don’t really feel like cooking.”

“Me either.”

“Let me change and we’ll go.” Harry was looking at her strangely. The kind of face he made when he pulled pranks on her before he officially swept her off her feet. Maybe she was wrong, and the pranks were coming back.

Maybe there were those mini firecrackers under her toilet seat. “What?”

“Nothing, jus’... think y’look pretty,” his smile was too devilish (and handsome). He knew what he was doing. she shook her head and snorted. But Harry saw the way her cheeks turned pink at the compliment. He watched her head to her bedroom. When she stopped in the doorway, his smile bloomed. Her pause to look at her room as if it wasn’t hers made his heart skip a beat. “S’matter, Buttercup?”

“There are like a hundred peanut butter cups on my bed,” she told him. Like he didn’t already know. Orange wrappers lined up in the shape of a heart along her bed spread.

“107, actually,” She turned to look at him. He shrugged. “It would have 110, but I needed a snack.”

She wanted to smile. But her heart was beating fast, her emotions overwhelming her. She bit the inside of her lip. “Why?”

“Y’said y’were having a bad day.”

Her lip felt raw from biting it, behind her eyes prickled with tears. “Oh.”

“S’nice? Yeah?” He wondered and made his way to her, putting his hand on her lower back. He kissed her temple. “Kitten?” She nodded and turned her head toward him, hiding her face against his shoulder and trying to quell the emotion that was threatening to come out of her. “Hey, s’wrong, Buttercup?” He frowned. “Do y’want t’order take away instead?” He rubbed her arm soothingly.

She shook her head, then nodded, followed by a shrug. “I don’t know,” she sniffed.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry,” he hummed. “S’okay,” he reassured her. He didn’t even know why she needed reassurance. “S’jus’ some candy.” She sniffled again and Harry kissed the top of her hair. “M’gonna make sure y’feel good all the time, Buttercup,” he promised.

Her chest felt so overwhelmingly warm and achy in the best way. She nodded against him wishing she could tuck herself further into his strong body where she felt like nothing bad could happen. The change in relationship was a lot to absorb. But it was easy in a lot of ways. Harry was sweeter than she ever imagined he could be. Or maybe she was biased now that she got kisses, and he held her like she was the most precious thing he had ever touched. It killed her in hindsight how standoffish she had been to him. The thought of ignoring him made her feel sick to her stomach.

“I think you really will,” she mumbled into his shirt. He chuckled, kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

“Y’never have to thank me, kitten,” he shrugged. “Sorry I was so annoying.”

“I suppose it worked,” she sniffed.

He chuckled. “I knew it would.”

“You did not.”

“I did so,” he said petulantly. “Or I hoped it would.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t know why you would want someone so mean.”

“Jus’ makes me want y’more,” he joked and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “M’gonna kiss y’now, kitten,” his way of warning her and asking for permission. It hurt that he felt he had to ask. But Harry was nothing if not thorough and sure in asking for her consent.

“Don’t ever stop,” she sighed dreamily.

He chuckled again and leaned in to follow his promise. “M’pleasure, Buttercup.”

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 4 months ago

Note

okokok… what abt neighbors to lovers smut w/ Steve Rogers 🤤🤤🤤

like, he finds the reader so cute and she’s harboring a mini crush on him too and he keeps trying to win her affection and somehow they end up yano… 🤭

Maybe a MASSIVE little size kink on Steve’s behalf too?

no pressure tho hon 🫶🫶🫶

Won Over With Affection » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Neighbor!Female Reader

Summary: Steve thinks you’re cute and tries to win you over with your affection, but little does he know that you have a crush on him too.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+), language, neighbors to lovers, flirting, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, Steve’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Good morning, neighbor!” You greeted Steve as you walked out of your apartment and he was walking to his. “How was your morning run?” You asked.

“It was good.” Steve replies with a smile. “How are you?” He asks.

“Other than having to go to work, I’m good.” You answered.

You couldn’t help but admire the way Steve looks in his tight grey t-shirt. His biceps threatened to rip the fabric.

“Anyways, you’re probably busy. I’ll see you later.” You say.

“You too.” He says with a smile.

You don’t know what it is when you’re around Steve, but you always feel nervous around him. You have a crush on him and you aren’t sure how to tell him. So you’re keeping it to yourself for now.

When Steve walked inside of his apartment, he thought of ways of trying to win you over with your affection. Luckily for him, he already knows how to start with his plan.

The following morning, Steve started his plan off with something basic and nice. He got you coffee from the coffee shop down the street from the apartment complex you two live him on his way home from his morning run. He knocked on the door to your apartment.

“Good morning, Steve!” You greeted. “What brings you by this early?” You asked curiously.

“I got you coffee on my way home from my run.” Steve says, handing you a coffee.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you!” You smiled.

“You’re welcome! It’s the least I can do for my favorite neighbor. Plus I would like to get to know you if that’s ok with you.” He says.

“I’m more than ok with that.” You say with a smile.

You could feel yourself blushing more by the second.

“Do you want to come in and hangout?” You asked. “I have the day off today.” You tell him.

“I wish I could, but I have to take a rain check on that. I have to go to work.” He says.

“Oh ok.” You playfully pouted. “See you later.” You smiled.

Steve gave you a smile before going to his own apartment. He sighs happily after he closed the door. His plan to win you over with your affection is working.

The next time you and Steve saw each other was when you were holding a bunch of groceries in your arms and tried to unlock your apartment at the same time. Steve saw you struggling and decided to help you.

“Let me help you with that.” Steve says, walking up to you.

Steve, being the gentleman he is, took the grocery bags out of your arms so you could unlock the door. You opened the door and walked inside. Steve followed behind you. You closed the door after he came inside.

“Thank you, Steve.” You smiled, walking to the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do this.” You say, putting the groceries on the counter.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind.” Steve replies, putting the rest of the groceries on the counter.

Steve put his hands on his hip, taking in the scenery of your apartment. You couldn’t help but look down below his belt. You licked your lips and bit your bottom lip.

“Nice apartment.” He compliments, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a couple times and looked up at him.

“I was telling you that you have a nice apartment.” He repeats.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You stuttered.

Steve didn’t missed the blush creep up on your cheeks. He smirks to himself.

“Well, I should get going.” He says.

“Oh ok.” You said. “You’re welcome here anytime.” You tell him.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sweetheart.” He smiles and winks.

You watched as he walked to the door and walked out the door.

Sweetheart… he called you sweetheart! You felt yourself blushing like a teenage girl talking to her crush for the first time.

Later that same day, you went across the hall to Steve’s apartment. You knocked on the door and patiently waited for him to open the door.

“Y/N…” Steve smiles after he opens the door. “Come in.” He says, stepping aside.

You gave him a smile and walked inside of his apartment.

“I came over here to thank you for helping me with my groceries and for the coffee.” You say, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. It’s what neighbors are for.” He says with a smile.

You stood there and continued to nervously fiddle with your fingers. You looked around Steve’s apartment to avoid awkward eye contact with him.

“Your apartment looks bigger than mine.” You say.

Steve smirks to himself. He knows something else that’s big.

There it was again… the awkward silence.

Steve walked closer to you. You looked up at him due to the height difference.

“It is, isn’t it?” He says, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek.

You stared in his icy blue eyes and nodded your head. You looked down at his lips. Steve’s lips look so soft and kissable. His lips were inches away from yours. Steve decided to close the rest of the distance between you two and kissed you. You were caught by surprise, but kissed him back. The kiss went from sweet and passionate to heated quickly. You softly moaned against his lips.

Steve’s hips got a good grip on your hips and he picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to his bedroom. He gently laid you down on his bed and pulled away from the kiss to look deep in your eyes. His eyes that were once blue are now clouded with lust.

His hands found the bottom of your shirt. He looked at you, waiting for permission, which you gave him. Steve took your shirt off and threw it somewhere in the room, revealing your lace bra to him. His hands then found the waistband of your leggings, hooking his fingers in the waistband and looked at you for permission. You gave him permission by lifting your hips so he can take them off. Your matching panties were now revealed to him.

Steve took a short moment to take in your beauty. His thumbs rubbed the fabric of your panties. He then leaned his head down, kissing along your neck and down to your collarbone, nipping at your skin hard enough for hickeys. His hands pushed the straps of your bra off your shoulders before he kissed along your shoulders. You arched your back, pressing your breasts against his chest. Steve’s hand went behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

“Beautiful.” Steve mutters softly.

Steve hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and looked up at you, waiting for permission. You lifted your hips, giving him permission. He took your panties off, leaving you completely bare to him now. You pouted up at him.

“What’s with the pouty face, sweetheart?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your pouty lips.

“You’re still fully clothed.” You muttered softly.

Steve chuckles softly before taking his clothes off. Your eyes ogled his perfectly sculpted body. You bit your bottom lip and reached your hands out, rubbing them against his abdomen and feeling the indents of his abs. He gently took hands away, making you whine softly.

“As much as I want your hands on me, I have to taste you.” He says, giving you a soft kiss.

Steve kissed down your body, leaving hickeys here and there. You shivered when you felt his breath on your wet pussy. He took in how wet you are. He smirks proudly, knowing he’s the one who made you that wet.

His thumb slowly circled your clit, making your pussy squeeze around nothing. He couldn’t help but lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He moaned at your taste.

“You taste better than I imagined.” Steve says lowly.

Steve dove in, latching his lips on your pussy and are you out like a starved man. He put one of his arms across your stomach to prevent you from moving. Your mouth fell open, moans and his name leaving your mouth. One of your hands clutched the sheet beneath you and your other hand found its way to his hair, tugging on it.

“Oh my god! Yes, Steve!” You moaned loudly, throwing your head back against the pillow in pleasure.

The sound of your moans was music to his ears and went straight to his cock. His cock felt uncomfortably hard against his abdomen. Precum leaked against his skin and the sheets. He didn’t care one bit. He wanted to take care of your needs first.

Steve’s eyes flickered up at you, his eyes looking at your breasts. He also watched your chest rise and fall every time you took a breath. He couldn’t help but reach his hands up and cup your breasts as he ate you out. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples before pinching them at the same time. A new sensation shot through your body. You gasped at the feeling. He smirks against your pussy and didn’t it again, getting the same reaction out of you again.

Your grip on his hair tightened. Steve’s tongue prodded your entrance, catching you off guard and making you moan loudly. His tongue focused on your clit for a few seconds, circling it with the tip of his tongue.

You looked down at him at the same time he looked up at you. His blue eyes are now clouded with lust. He winked at you. You bit your bottom lip.

“Fuck, Steve!” You moaned. “Your tongue feels so good!” You say.

“Wait till you feel my cock.” Steve says, taking his mouth off of your pussy momentarily.

You moaned at his dirty words. That only made you want Steve more.

Steve slid two fingers in your pussy. His tongue began to lick your clit in flicking motions. Your grip on his hair tightened, giving it a tug. You threw your head back in pleasure. Your thighs closed around his head. Steve pushed them open with his shoulders.

“Leave these pretty legs open, sweetheart.” Steve says.

Steve curled his fingers, hitting the one spot inside of you. You moaned loudly and bucked your hips against his face and hand. That was enough to tell him that you wanted more. He curled his fingers against the one spot inside of you again, earning the same reaction from you. He also sensed you were getting close to coming.

“You gonna cum, honey?” He coos.

“Yes!” You moaned. “Please let me cum! I’m being a good girl!” You begged desperately.

“Cum for me, good girl.” He says in a praising tone.

His name left your lips in a loud moan when you came, soaking his face and fingers. Steve’s fingers fucked you through your orgasm. He gave your clit one last flick with his tongue before pulling away and took his fingers out of your pussy. Steve sat back on his knees, licking your release off of his fingers, moaning at your taste.

“Holy shit…” You breathed. “A guy has never made me cum that hard before.” You admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m honored to be that guy.” Steve says with a small smirk.

Steve hovered over you, leaning down to kiss you passionately. His dog tags rested against your chest as he kissed you.

“Think you can cum for me again, sweetheart?” Steve asks, moving his lips down to your neck.

“Yes.” You answered softly.

Steve gave you one more kiss before sitting back on his knees again. He wrapped his hand around his hard cock, stroking it a couple times before line it at your pussy. He rubbed his cock in your slick, getting it wet. He then lined his cock at your entrance, slowly sliding it inside of you. You whimpered softly when his tip entered you. You knew Steve is big, but you didn’t know he was this big. Steve stopped his movements and looked at you.

“Are you ok, darling?” Steve asks softly.

“Y-Yes.” You answered in a stutter. “I just didn’t know you’re this big.” You say.

Steve reached a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing it and rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“I’ll go slow.” He whispers.

You gave him a smile and a nod after a moment, letting him know he can continue to slide his cock in your pussy. The stretch from his cock stung, but it also felt good. Steve gave you a moment to adjust to his size when his cock was fully inside of you. You gave him another nod, letting him know he can start thrusting.

Steve’s hands found their place on your hips and he started thrusting. His thrusts started at a slow and loving pace before speeding them up. Your hands held onto his biceps. Your nails dug in his skin.

“Holy shit!” You moaned loudly. “You’re so big!” You moaned again.

Your moans urged him on. Steve sped up his thrusts a little bit more. His cock was hitting all of the right spots inside of you.

Steve leaned back just enough to look down at his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy, his cock glistening in your slick.

“Fuck…” Steve moans at the sight. “Your pussy feels incredible.” He says, tilting his head back.

In the spur of the moment, you grabbed the chain of Steve’s Army dog tags, giving it a tug to pull him down for a kiss. The kiss was heated. Your lips moved in sync with his. Steve’s tongue licked across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his tongue in your mouth. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

You pulled away from the kiss, moaning loudly when Steve’s cock hit the one spot inside of you. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your face against the crook of his neck. You placed soft kisses against his neck. Your teeth nipped on his skin just enough to mark him up.

“I wanna try something.” Steve says.

Steve hooked his arms under your knees and leaned over you, fucking you faster. It felt like his cock reached impossibly deeper. Your mouth fell open and your head fell back against the pillow, moans of pleasure leaving your lips.

Steve dipped his head dip, kissing along your collarbones and the column of your throat. His teeth nipped at your skin. He licked every hickey he left on your neck and collarbones.

“Oh fuck, yes! Steve!” You moaned loudly.

Steve loves the sound of your moans and the way his name sounds coming from your lips. He reached his hand down to your clit and began rubbing it. You took a glance down at him fucking you before looking up at him. His eyes were full blown with lust.

You needed his lips on yours. You couldn’t help but kiss him again. This kiss was a bit sloppy, but also sweet and passionate. You moaned against his lips. You two pulled away from each other’s lips, looking at each other breathlessly.

“I can feel you getting close, sweetheart.” Steve’s fingers rubbed your clit faster. “You gonna cum?” He asks.

You moaned and nodded. You felt your orgasm building up even more. It felt like you were going to fall over the edge any second.

“Cum for me, honey.” He says.

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his name leaving your lips in a loud pornographic moan.

“That’s a good girl.” Steve praises. “Good fucking girl.” He praises again.

Steve gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm. His orgasm was building up fast as well. Grunts and moans left his lips the closer he was getting to coming.

“Cum inside of me.” You tell him, your voice sounding seductive.

“Fuck…” He moans at your dirty words.

He came inside of you shortly after you said that. His thrusts came to slow stop. Steve gently took your legs off of his shoulders and pulled out of you. He laid down next to you and covered the two of you up with a blanket. You moved closer to him, laying your head on his chest and played with his dog tags. Steve wrapped his arm around you.

“I won you over with affection, didn’t I?” Steve says after a moment.

You giggled and looked up at him. You leaned up a bit, kissing him softly.

“Take me on a date and I’ll show you more affection.” You murmured against his lips. “In the meantime…” You got on top of him. “I’ll show you a little preview of the affection.” You say seductively.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

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jincapableoflove · 21 days ago

Text

How to Ruin a Wedding | Masterlist

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre: fake dating au, plus one! jungkook, neighbour! jungkook, fake bf! jungkook, family drama, destination wedding (Italy), mystery (kinda), angst, angst, romance, smut, light comedy

Summary: Crashing your ex’s wedding with a fake boyfriend was never the plan. Especially not when the fake boyfriend turns out to be the groom’s long-lost cousin with an agenda of his own. You just wanted to look unbothered, and Jungkook just wanted answers. Neither expected real feelings to gatecrash the deal. But in a vineyard full of secrets, what’s one more lie between strangers pretending not to fall in love?

Series word count: ??

Chapter count: 5 + epilogue

Taglist: Comment or send me an ask to be added to the series taglist!!

Parts:

coming soon!

[TAGLIST OPEN]

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morganbritton132 · 2 months ago

Text

You know, the funniest implication in Stranger Things is that Dustin swears so much because his mom does.

#imagine Eddie or Steve or someone who didn’t grow up with Dustin #go over to his house and then hear the sweetest looking woman ever tell her neighbor to fuck off #when they complain about her backing into the trash cans #claudia henderson #dustin henderson

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leriexoxo · 15 days ago

Text

Across The Window

Felix x Reader (enemies to lovers)

Tags: Explicit sexual content (18+), Voyeurism, Mutual masturbation elements, Semi-public indecency (curtain window stuff), Accidental penetration, Power play / light degradation (verbal), Strong language, Dom-ish Felix, Light dubcon vibes from tension but fully consensual, unprotected sex, breeding.

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: You’ve hated Lee Felix since the day he moved in across the courtyard from you—loud music, cocky smirks, and a window that just so happens to face directly into yours. The loathing has been mutual. Until one night—one very late night—you wake up to get a glass of water and find his window open for once. And Felix is in bed. Laptop open. Hand around his cock.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Felix Lee lived directly across from you.

Not down the hall. Not upstairs or next door. Across the narrow alley that separated your apartment building from his, fourth floor to fourth floor, window to window.

You didn’t know him when you moved in.

But you learned fast.

The first time you noticed him, it was because he noticed you first—a sharp glance through the glass, eyebrows raised, like your very existence was offensive. Like you were the one invading his space, even though it was your first night and you were just trying to figure out the light switches.

After that, it became a thing.

You’d catch him watching whenever your lights were on and your curtains weren’t fully shut. Not creepy watching—just… lingering. Judgy. Disapproving. And when you caught him doing it, he didn’t look away.

He smirked.

Like he wanted you to know.

You flipped him off that night. He responded by slamming his curtains closed.

From there, it escalated.

Petty window wars.

Matching scowls.

Drawn blinds. Slammed shutters.

Occasional glimpses that left you just curious enough to keep checking—only to pretend you weren’t.

You didn’t speak. You’d never actually met. But the hatred was mutual and unspoken, hanging heavy between the glass like fog.

It didn’t help that he was attractive in the worst possible way.

Blonde hair, always messy. Pierced lip. He dressed like a delinquent and moved like he knew he was hot, and god, it made you hate him more.

Felix Lee was your most consistent irritation.

Until 3:07 a.m.

When you got up to get water.

And saw something you definitely weren’t supposed to see.

You hadn’t even fully woken up when you padded barefoot into the kitchen, hoodie sliding off one shoulder and eyes still crusty from sleep. The apartment was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of your fridge light as you grabbed the glass you kept on the counter. A sip, a sigh. Your body was already turning back toward your bedroom when something… off caught your eye.

Light. Across the alley.

His light.

You froze mid-step.

Felix never kept his curtains open at night. That was one of your only mutual rules in this silent, window-fueled cold war. If one of you was home, the curtains were shut. It was petty, unspoken truce. Or maybe a game.

But tonight?

His window was glowing.

Wide open, lit up like a stage.

Your heart jumped before your eyes even found him—because part of you knew something was off. Something wrong or strange or—

Holy shit.

You blinked.

Then blinked again.

There he was.

Felix.

On his bed.

Pillows messy. Legs spread. Shirtless.

One hand splayed lazily over his chest, rising and falling with every breath. The other was wrapped around his cock, slow and steady and completely unbothered by the fact that his window was wide open and you could see everything.

The laptop beside him glowed faint blue, casting porn shadows across his wall—but your eyes weren’t on the screen.

They were on him.

His head tipped back, lips parted, hair falling into his eyes. His chest arched as his grip tightened, jaw clenching like he was chasing the edge of something deep. His thighs flexed beneath the dim light, muscles tense with the kind of effort you’d only ever imagined before.

You should’ve looked away.

You tried.

But your body didn’t listen.

Not when he looked that good.

Not when you could hear his muffled groans through the paper-thin gap in your window.

You’d seen Felix angry. You’d seen him smirking, annoyed, smug, wet from the rain, shirtless once or twice from a distance on a laundry day.

But this?

This was different.

Raw. Beautiful. Unfiltered.

And then—

As if summoned by your stare—

His eyes opened.

Right to you.

And he froze.

Your heart launched itself into your throat, panic flaring as you realized you were standing at your window, fully visible, hoodie half-falling, staring directly at him like some thirsty creep. But before you could move—

Felix’s gaze dropped.

To your lips.

Then lower.

And then… He didn’t stop.

Didn’t close the laptop.

Didn’t cover up.

Didn’t even blink.

He just kept going.

Eyes on you.

Like he wanted you to watch.

You should’ve looked away.

Any normal person would’ve.

But you weren’t normal around Felix.

He made you reckless. Stupid. Curious in ways you weren’t proud of.

And now?

He was watching you watch him.

The air felt thick between the glass, like it carried something hotter than heat, heavier than tension. Your hoodie slipped further down your shoulder, but you didn’t move to fix it. Your lips parted. Felix’s eyes tracked it—subtle, slow—and his hand never stopped moving.

If anything… it got bolder.

Longer strokes. Tighter grip. His head tilted just a little, lips curling into something dark, daring.

Like he was saying: Go ahead. Look. You want this, don’t you?

You didn’t even breathe.

You stood there, transfixed, thighs clenching as you watched the tension build in his body. Every muscle flexed. His jaw locked. And when his hips jerked and his lips parted on a soft, filthy moan—so quiet you barely heard it—you knew.

He was coming.

And you watched it happen.

Hot. Shameless. His gaze never once leaving yours.

It wasn’t until his hand finally slowed, resting limply over his stomach, that you moved.

Your fingers twitched. Your breath trembled.

And then—with the kind of delayed panic that hits after the damage is done—you grabbed your curtain and pulled it shut, heart in your throat.

This time, you didn’t stand there.

You ran to your bed, threw the blanket over your face, and cursed the way your body ached.

Because Felix had just cum for you.

And you liked it.

—

You didn’t sleep much.

Your bed had never felt smaller. Your skin had never felt hotter. And the worst part?

You couldn’t stop seeing it.

The way his chest moved when he came. The twitch of his fingers. That look on his face—half smug, half lost, all heat.

And those fucking eyes.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

So no, sleep wasn’t an option. Not when Felix Lee had jerked off with the window wide open and turned your brain to static.

By the time morning rolled around, you were feral. Restless. On edge.

And you knew exactly how to get it out.

You grabbed a thick sheet of white poster board from your closet—a leftover from your “I Hate Everyone” art phase—and a black Sharpie that bled like hell.

In huge block letters, you wrote:

“Are you INSANE or just a NARCISSIST?!”

Underlined it twice.

Taped it to your window.

And waited.

It took a few hours.

But eventually—after a few dramatic passes back and forth through your apartment—you saw it.

A fresh sheet of paper.

Handwritten. Slanted. Arrogant.

“If you have a problem, say it to my face.”

Your jaw dropped.

He did NOT just—

You stormed to the window for a closer look, just in time to see him walk into frame. Felix. Hoodie half-zipped, hair still wet from a shower, jaw tense like he was barely keeping a smile down.

He saw you reading the note.

Saw your reaction.

And smirked.

Then—without a word—he shut his curtain.

You stood there, stunned.

Heart thundering. Face hot. Hands clenched at your sides.

Your phone buzzed, but you ignored it. Your brain was already racing. That wasn’t just an invitation—that was a challenge.

And you’d never backed down from Felix Lee.

Maybe it was time to go to Building B.

It started with pacing.

One lap across your room. Then another. Then four more, fast enough that your socks started slipping on the floor.

You couldn’t let that little red sign go.

“If you have a problem, say it to my face.”

Who the hell did he think he was?

Felix Lee, the pretty little punk across the alley, with his smug smirks and his reckless ego and his dick in his hand like he owned the world. You hated him. You hated him.

And that hatred was currently pulsing between your thighs like an electric fence.

You grabbed your hoodie.

You didn’t even think about it.

Your brain was a thunderstorm of curses as you stomped down the stairwell and out of your building, hoodie flapping behind you like a battle flag. The spring air hit your face, as you crossed the narrow alley between your buildings and reached the entrance to his.

“Don’t chicken out,” you muttered to yourself.

Your legs carried you up the steps before your brain could catch up. Floor one. Floor two. Floor three. You weren’t going to yell. You weren’t going to scream. You were going to knock on his door and tell him, calmly and clearly, that he was the worst thing to ever happen to your life and you wished you’d never moved into this stupid building across from his stupid face—

You stopped in front of 4B.

Hand raised. Knuckles inches from the wood.

Your heart pounded.

Your brain screamed, what are you doing??

And then the door opened.

You hadn’t even knocked.

And there he was.

Felix.

Shirtless. Again.

Towel slung over his shoulder.

Hair still damp, curls clinging to his forehead.

His eyes raked over you once, slowly—down your body, then back up—and a lazy, dangerous smile pulled at his lips like he’d been waiting for this.

“Well,” Felix drawled, arms folding over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe, towel still hanging off one shoulder. “Took you long enough.”

Your mouth opened—then shut—because goddamn it, he was even hotter up close.

He smelled like citrus and clean sweat, fresh from a shower, his chest still glistening in places like he hadn’t bothered to dry off properly. And that towel? It barely covered the waistband of his low-slung sweatpants.

You forced your eyes back to his face. Mistake. The cocky smirk there could ignite wars.

“You think this is funny?” you snapped.

Felix tilted his head. “A little.”

“You left your window open on purpose.”

“You looked.”

You took a step forward. “You were jerking off at three in the morning with the lights on like you were filming a damn OnlyFans—what the hell did you expect me to do?!”

His smirk widened. “Close your eyes? Maybe say thank you?”

You made a strangled sound of fury, hands clenching into fists. “You’re such a narcissistic, arrogant—”

“Cute when you’re angry,” he cut in, voice lower now, rougher.

Your pulse stuttered. He stepped aside just a little—door wide enough to let you in, body still blocking half the frame.

You hesitated.

He saw it.

“What, scared?” he said, voice dipping into something darker. “Big words from the girl who couldn’t look away last night.”

Your breath hitched.

Something in you snapped.

You shoved past him into his apartment.

Felix blinked, just once, before he shut the door behind you. Soft click. Thick silence.

The room smelled like him. Looked like him—messy, lived-in, warm. His laptop sat closed on the bed, probably hiding whatever filthy tab he’d left open.

He turned to face you, arms crossed again, eyes raking down your body with zero shame.

“Alright,” he said, casually, like you hadn’t just stormed into his home ready to rip his head off. “You’re here. Say what you need to say.”

You spun on him, heartbeat banging in your ears. “You don’t get to act like this is normal.”

“Never said it was normal.”

“Then why are you—why are you smiling at me right now?”

“Because you’re standing in my apartment,” he said, taking a step closer, “in that little hoodie that barely covers your ass, cheeks red, voice shaking… and you’re fucking hot when you’re mad.”

Your lips parted. Words didn’t come.

He stepped closer again.

“You didn’t look away last night,” he said softly.

You swallowed hard.

Maybe you hated him.

But maybe you hated how right he was even more.

The air between you crackled.

Felix was close enough now that you could feel the heat rolling off his bare skin. Every inch of him radiated this lazy, infuriating arrogance—like he knew exactly how far he could push before you snapped.

And he was aiming for the edge.

“I’m just saying,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing, “you didn’t seem so bothered last night. You could’ve looked away. Closed the curtains. But you didn’t.”

You folded your arms, fingers digging into your sleeves, willing your voice to stay steady.

“That doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.”

His eyes glittered. “Didn’t say you did. But you watched.”

You scoffed. “I was shocked.”

Felix took another step closer—his body barely an arm’s length from yours now. “You were curious.”

“I was horrified.”

He smiled, slow and dangerous. “Your thighs were probably clenched.”

Your breath caught.

“You’re imagining things,” you said, but your voice cracked just slightly.

He heard it.

He leaned in—not touching, not quite—close enough for his breath to ghost against your cheek.

“I think you liked it,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I think you liked seeing what you do to me. Even if you pretend to hate me.”

You could feel your pulse thudding in your throat. Your body screamed to react. Push him. Kiss him. Slap him. Something.

Instead, you straightened up. Turned your head. Met his gaze—unflinching, fire meeting fire.

And then you said it.

“You want me to watch again?”

“Fine.”

“Then show me.”

His smirk vanished like a light switch flipped.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

Then his lips parted, and for the first time since this little game began—Felix Lee looked stunned.

“Yeah,” you said softly, lifting your chin. “Didn’t think so.”

You turned on your heel, heading for the door with your blood screaming in your veins, adrenaline sizzling like lightning in your fingertips.

But before your hand touched the doorknob, you heard it—

The quiet sound of breath.

And then:

“Don’t move.”

The words curled in the air behind you—low, sharp, bitten off like they’d escaped his mouth before he could cage them.

You froze.

Not because he said it.

But because part of you wanted to listen.

And that pissed you off more than anything.

So you didn’t move… but you didn’t stay still out of obedience.

You stayed still because you were calling his bluff.

You placed your hand on the doorknob. Deliberately.

“You gonna show me or not?” you said, voice calm, cool, razor-blade smooth. “Or is all that cocky attitude just for the window?”

Silence.

No footsteps. No breath.

Then, the faintest rustle. Like he shifted. Like you’d just kicked the legs out from under his control.

“I mean,” you continued, twisting the knob slightly, “I could always go home. Maybe next time I’ll have popcorn ready.”

Still nothing.

And then—

“I said don’t move.”

You turned your head just slightly, still not facing him. “Then make me.”

Another heartbeat of silence.

And suddenly he was there.

You felt it before you saw it—the shift of air, the heat of his body, the way your skin prickled like the storm had finally rolled in.

He didn’t touch you. Not yet.

But his voice was right behind your ear when he said, “You really wanna play this game?”

You smiled.

“You started it.”

You turned.

Slowly.

Like you had all the time in the world, like your heartbeat wasn’t a goddamn war drum in your chest.

And there he was.

Felix, standing barely a breath away, eyes dark as sin, mouth parted like he couldn’t quite believe you were still here, still pushing, still daring him.

Your gaze dragged down his chest—tan skin, droplets of water still clinging to his collarbone. The towel over his shoulder had shifted, forgotten. The waistband of his sweatpants teased a V-line so sharp it looked like it could cut glass.

You looked up into his eyes.

“I’m waiting,” you said.

His jaw flexed.

Then a hand—his hand—lifted, slow and deliberate, settling gently on your waist. Not possessive. Not rough. But confident. Heavy with intent.

You didn’t flinch.

You held his gaze and raised your chin. Challenging him.

“What do you want to see?” he asked, voice barely a whisper now. Not cocky. Not smug. Just low. Hungry.

Your fingers gripped the edge of your hoodie, knuckles white. You could feel the heat of his hand through the fabric, feel the storm inside him rising to meet yours.

You let your lips part.

And then, softly—

Deadly.

Like a secret meant for sin.

“Everything.”

His hand rested on your waist—firm, unmoving, fingers splayed wide like he wanted to mark you.

You held his stare.

Said it again, breath softer this time. “Everything.”

And for a second, Felix didn’t move.

Then his hand slid away, slow, like he was peeling himself off you before he did something reckless.

He stepped back.

And smiled.

Not the cocky, smug kind from earlier.

This one was darker.

Tighter.

Like he’d just made a decision that would ruin you.

“Alright,” he said, voice dipped in something molten. “You want a show?”

You didn’t answer.

He tilted his head. “Then make me hard.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“If you want to see it—” he moved back toward the bed, sitting down, legs spread just enough to make your stomach flutter— “earn it. Get me hard. Then I’ll show you everything.”

You stared at him.

It was a bluff. You knew it was a bluff. He didn’t think you’d follow through—probably expected you to roll your eyes and storm off.

But that’s where he fucked up.

Because now it wasn’t about teasing. It wasn’t even about winning.

It was about breaking him.

You stepped forward slowly, watching his brows tick up in surprise. He didn’t move—just watched, waiting, lips twitching like he still thought he had the upper hand.

And then—

You dropped to your knees.

Right there, between his legs.

Without touching him.

Felix’s eyes widened. “What are you—”

“Shh,” you said, voice calm. “I’m thinking.”

He didn’t breathe.

You leaned in, slow, deliberate, so close your mouth hovered just inches above the outline in his pants—but never made contact.

Then you whispered, “Close your eyes.”

He blinked, throat bobbing. “Why?”

You smiled. “So you don’t cheat.”

For some reason, he did it.

And that’s when you leaned in even closer—lips ghosting over the waistband of his sweats. Still no touch. Just your breath. Your presence.

You whispered.

“You think I need to touch you to make you fall apart?”

His whole body twitched.

And when you pulled back just slightly to look up at him, his eyes cracked open and dropped to your face—and the noise he made?

Not a sound you’d ever forget.

Low. Raw. Desperate.

His cock was hard.

Already.

You stood up like nothing happened.

“Looks like you owe me a show,” you said, brushing imaginary dust off your hoodie.

Felix stared at you like you were made of fire and bad decisions. Like you’d just rewritten the rules of your war.

And he was fucked.

Felix didn’t speak at first.

Still seated. Still rock hard. But now—eyes blown wide, pulse ticking in his throat, jaw tight like he was hanging onto the last frayed thread of his control.

You’d gotten to him. You knew you had.

You took a step back, slow. Smug. “Looks like you’ve got something to show me, Lee.”

He leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his thighs. The tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled—he looked like a wolf about to pounce.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his lips curled into something low and sharp. “Sit down.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You earned a show, right?” His gaze flicked to the chair by his desk. “Then sit. You want to watch, you watch properly.”

Your throat went dry.

But you moved, slow, and dropped into the chair—legs crossed, arms folded like you weren’t falling apart inside.

He stood.

And when he tugged the towel off his shoulder and let it fall, there was a second—just one—where you swore he was nervous.

But it passed.

His fingers slid under the waistband of his sweats, slow, taunting, and he dragged them low enough for you to see the start of the promise underneath—

Then you moved.

Not to stop him. Not even to leave.

Just slightly. Shifting in your seat.

But Felix’s eyes snapped to the motion, and something changed.

The tease dropped.

The room crackled.

And in the next second, he was in front of you.

His hands gripped the armrests of your chair, boxing you in, and his face was so close you could see the way his pupils swallowed his irises whole.

“You think you can pull that stunt,” he growled, voice low and tight, “and walk away like nothing happened?”

You opened your mouth. You weren’t trying to leave though.

But you didn’t get a chance to speak.

Because he leaned in, nose brushing yours, lips barely touching.

“I don’t strip for free, sweetheart,” he whispered, and then—

He grabbed you.

In one sharp, fluid movement, he lifted you out of the chair and tossed you onto his bed. Not rough—but fast enough that your breath left in a sharp little gasp.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed, half-shocked, half-high.

Felix stood at the edge of the bed, panting, sweatpants dangerously low now.

“You want everything?” he asked.

And you—voice barely there, already trembling—said:

“Yes.”

The air felt thicker on his bed.

Heavy with sweat, tension, and the taste of something forbidden brewing between your thighs.

You sat up slightly, breath shallow, heart pounding against your ribs like it was trying to escape. Felix hadn’t touched you again—not yet—but the heat of him standing at the edge of the bed was a presence all its own.

His eyes locked on yours.

Then he lowered his sweats.

And fuck.

He was already so hard. Thick, flushed, the kind of cock that made your mouth go dry and your mind short-circuit. Your thighs clenched without permission.

Felix let out a breathless laugh. “You look surprised,” he said, wrapping a hand around himself. “You did this.”

You swallowed.

He started slow. Long strokes, fingers curling just enough, the tip wet and leaking as he dragged his hand up and down. He kept his eyes on you the whole time.

“You wanted a show?” he murmured. “Then watch.”

And you did.

Because how could you not?

He stood there—shoulders flexing, hips rolling with each stroke like he was fucking his own fist, his abs tightening every time his hand reached the base. The sounds—soft wet slicks, the hitched breath in his throat, the whispered curse when his thumb brushed the tip—it was too much.

Your hand gripped the sheets.

Your chest rose and fell, and when you bit your lip to keep a sound in, he saw it.

His jaw twitched.

“You like that?” he asked, voice hoarse. “You like watching me stroke my cock thinking about how good your mouth would feel on it?”

You whimpered.

He groaned—louder this time. “Fuck. Say something.”

You couldn’t.

You were frozen. Staring. Melting.

And that’s when it snapped.

He lunged.

One second, you were sitting up, the next, he was crawling onto the bed, towering over you, cock still in his hand as he shoved his knee between your legs and hovered over your body.

His lips ghosted your jaw, hot and trembling. “You wanna touch?”

Your voice cracked. “Y-Yes.”

“Then do it.”

You reached between you.

And when your hand wrapped around his cock—hot, heavy, real—Felix hissed through his teeth like the contact shattered him.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed.

You started stroking. Not shy. Not hesitant. You gave it back to him just like you watched—slow, firm, precise.

He dropped his forehead to yours, lips barely grazing. “Just like that, baby.”

Then he grabbed your hand—keeping it there—and rolled his hips into your fist.

The moan he let out?

Filthy.

He pulled back, looked down at you, face flushed, chest heaving.

“You wanna see everything?” he asked.

You nodded, mouth parted, dizzy with want.

Felix smirked.

“Then don’t stop.”

Your hand stroked him slow and steady.

Confident now. Addicted to the way his breath caught in his throat, the way his thighs tensed under your touch. He was trembling—Felix, trembling—with his head tipped back, mouth parted, eyes squeezed shut like he couldn’t fucking believe how good it felt.

“You’re gonna come like this?” you asked, voice low, taunting. “Just from my hand?”

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips twitching into your grip. “You’re such a—”

He didn’t finish.

Couldn’t.

You gave him a twist on the downstroke, thumb teasing the head just right, and that was it—his whole body jerked like he’d been shocked.

“Fucking hell–”

He looked down at you, wrecked and wild, and that was the moment he snapped.

He yanked your wrist away and tossed your hand to the side, eyes blazing.

“No,” he growled.

And before you could breathe, he flipped you.

Fast. One hand on your hip, the other braced beside your head, and suddenly your back hit the mattress and his body was everywhere.

He was on you.

Over you.

Breathing hard, flushed and leaking and furious.

“You think you get to do that,” he muttered, grinding down against your thigh, dragging his cock along the soft skin there, teasing you with it now, ��drive me insane—then sit there all proud and fucking smug?”

You blinked up at him, dazed. “Was I smug?”

His hand slid under your top, up your ribs, finding the curve of your breast and squeezing hard enough to make you gasp.

“Smug as fuck.”

You smirked—couldn’t help it.

But it vanished when he leaned in, nose brushing your cheek, lips grazing your ear.

“You wanna make me come?” he whispered, grinding harder, slower, “Then lie there and let me fuck your thighs until I do.”

You gasped.

And Felix? Felix smiled.

Dark. Dangerous.

“My turn.”

“Felix—wait—”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Weak. Breathless. A protest in theory only, because you didn’t actually stop him when his fingers hooked into your waistband and dragged your shorts down—slow, torturous.

He paused, just for a second, eyes dark and unreadable as they flicked down between your thighs.

And then he saw.

Your soaked thong.

A dark patch clinging to your center.

His breath hitched.

“You’re already wet?” he asked, like he wasn’t expecting it—like it genuinely short-circuited something in his brain.

You swallowed. “You’re the one who started—”

“Don’t care.”

He yanked the shorts off completely, tossed them aside, and pushed you down again with a hand firm on your thigh. Then he settled between your legs, rough palms gripping just above your knees and spreading you.

Your breath caught.

And when he lined himself up—not with your entrance, but with the plush, slick space between your thighs—you whimpered.

“Wanna feel it,” he muttered. “Wanna feel you like this first.”

And then he pushed in.

Slow. Deliberate. Letting his cock slide between your thighs, trapped tight with your soaked panties still clinging to your cunt. His cockhead brushed the slick heat of your folds, dragging over your clit just enough to make your back arch.

You weren’t supposed to get off like this.

But the friction—his grip, his deep voice, the sheer heat of it all—your body betrayed you.

“Felix—fuck—” your hands gripped his arms, trying to ground yourself as the pleasure built, relentless and filthy.

“You like this?” he asked, thrusting harder, faster, his cock slick now from you. “Fucking hell—you’re dripping—”

“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—”

You came. Without warning.

Legs shaking, mouth open in a silent cry, thighs squeezing tight around him as your cum slicked the space between you. Felix cursed—loud, desperate—his rhythm breaking.

And then it happened.

He slid forward.

Too fast. Too deep.

And right into you. Slipped right into your cunt.

He stilled.

You both froze.

The sound that left him—low, raw, like a fucking growl—was followed by a whisper of your name, choked and sinful.

“Shit. I didn’t mean to—”

But neither of you moved.

Because he was inside you now. Bare. Thick. Hot.

Your pussy clenched around him involuntarily.

His jaw clenched.

“I’ll pull out,” he managed, voice shaking. “Just—”

“Don’t.”

Your voice was wrecked.

Ruined.

Fucked.

His eyes snapped to yours.

You reached up, cupped the back of his neck, and pulled him closer.

“I don’t want you to.”

And with that, he started fucking you.

Desperate, slick, buried to the hilt and already seconds from breaking. The sound of skin slapping skin, the way you whimpered every time his hips snapped forward, how wet it was from your orgasm—

He didn’t last long.

With a guttural moan and a full-body shudder, Felix came inside you, deep, heavy, his cock twitching as he spilled everything into you, no barriers, no filter.

When he finally collapsed beside you, panting, flushed, and fucked-out, neither of you spoke.

Because there was nothing left to say.

Just the sound of your breaths, and the weight of everything you just became.

For a full minute, neither of you moved.

The room was drenched in silence. Sticky, humid, fucked-out silence. You were both staring at the ceiling like you’d just been struck by lightning. Not touching. Not speaking. Just… processing.

Felix’s chest rose and fell beside you, still rapid.

Your pulse was in your throat.

Your thighs were wet. Your panties were ruined. You could still feel him—his cum, the ghost of that final, frantic thrust. It should’ve been horrifying. You weren’t even sure what the hell you were now.

Then he breathed.

“…Sooo.”

You blinked.

He turned his head, slowly, and smirked like he just won a championship game.

“Still mad at me?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “You came in me.”

“Correction.” He propped himself up on one elbow, totally shameless. “Slipped inside of you.”

You stared at him, stunned.

“Because you made it that wet,” he added, gesturing vaguely to your thighs like he was proving a point.

“Oh my God.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, smile smug. “If anyone’s fault it was, it’s yours.”

You grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it.

He took the hit, laughing through it, already reaching to pull you back.

Felix’s laughter slowly died, and for a moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the room settling, the air thick with the aftermath. He was lying back, eyes half-lidded, his chest still rising and falling quickly, but there was something different in the way he looked at you now. Like the animosity that usually swirled between you both had… loosened a little.

You rolled onto your side, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “So,” you said, teasing but with that edge of sarcasm you couldn’t shake, “I guess we’re like enemies with benefits now?”

Felix smirked, a lazy, smug expression creeping onto his face as he met your gaze. “Seems like it, yeah.”

You let out a slow, contemplative breath, staring at him with that familiar mix of annoyance and… something else you couldn’t quite define. “You’re still really annoying,” you muttered, but your voice wasn’t as harsh as it would’ve been before. Something about the situation had shifted.

Felix’s grin widened, and without missing a beat, he leaned closer to you. His breath was warm on your skin as he whispered, “Same to you.”

But there was no sting in the words. Instead, there was a softness to his tone, a kind of understanding you hadn’t expected.

And before you could stop yourself, you spoke again, the words slipping out with no filter. “You’re a really good lay, though.”

Felix chuckled under his breath, leaning in just enough for his lips to hover over yours, his smirk never leaving. “I know,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

For a second, neither of you moved, the tension lingering like an electric charge in the air between you.

And then, you did it.

You pulled him in, just enough to make his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding. It was different from the last time—messier, more heated. The kiss was filled with a strange mix of passion and frustration, the kind of frustration that came from a desire you didn’t want to admit was there.

Felix groaned low against your mouth, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him kiss you deeper, the taste of him filling your senses, your body responding before you could even catch your breath.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, he gave you that smug, knowing look again. “Still mad at me?”

You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smirk tugging at your mouth. “Oh, I’m definitely still mad at you.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, leaning back, clearly pleased with himself. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

You sighed dramatically, trying to hold onto some semblance of your old annoyance. But deep down, something had shifted. You weren’t even sure what it was anymore. “I swear, Felix,” you muttered, half irritated, half… something else entirely. “This doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

Felix’s laugh was soft but self-assured. “Doesn’t mean we’re enemies either.”

You huffed, turning over to face the other direction, your back to him, but there was a warmth in your chest that you couldn’t ignore.

Felix’s voice broke through the silence once again, teasing, but this time there was a softness to it. “So, what’s next? You gonna keep staring at me from across the windows, or we got more sessions planned?”

You rolled your eyes again, but the playful smile on your lips gave you away. “Maybe,” you said, leaning back slightly so you could look at him over your shoulder. “But don’t think you’re winning me over anytime soon.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Sure,” he said, like he was more than happy to play this game. “You just wait until the next time I slip in again.”

And just like that, everything felt… right. Or, at least, it made sense.

Enemies with benefits.

Maybe it didn’t have to be more complicated than that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: Felix has really been wrecking me lately so here’s the nastiness my horny brain conjured up 😍 youre welcome!

Also guys I’d really appreciate it if you left more notes on my fics for encouragement, i love writing and i love it when people enjoy it so please leave a like for me and REBLOGG

#felix yongbok #felix fluff #felix angst #felix fanfic #felix drabble #felix smut #felix imagines #felix x reader #stray kids felix #lee felix #skz felix #stray kids x reader #straykids fanfic #skz smut #skz fanfic #enemies to lovers #hello neighbor

405 notes · View notes

mattsstarlet · 1 month ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ swallow it ⟢

helping neighbor!matt out

“y’know… i don’t mind helping you in other ways.” matt spoke, slowly coming up behind you and placing a hand on your hip. you had called him over, asking if he’d be able to fix some leakage in your bathroom, and of course matt said yes, anything to be in the presence of his pretty, next door neighbor.

“yeah?” you teased back, lolling your head to the side, giving him access to kiss your neck, licking up a stripe until he was met with your ear. “what if i wanna help you, this time?”

he chuckled deeply, his hands freely roaming all over your body. “oh yeah?”

“mhm.” you pulled yourself off him, immediately turning around and dropping to your knees, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth and giving him the best puppy eyes.

he groaned at the sight, roughly grabbing a fistful of your roots, tugging your head back. his other hand unbuttoned his jeans, pulling down his zipper and letting the fabric pool around his ankles.

“i got somethin’ you can help me with, sweetheart.”

he grinned at the sound of you giggling, reaching out and pulling the leftover fabric down, fake gasping at the sight of his heavy length springing out, licking your lips for the fun of it. you wrapped your hand around his dick, slowly beginning to work your palm up and down, squeezing every so often.

“gonna put it in your pretty mouth? hm?” you nodded at his raspy voice, pressing your lips at the start of his base, dragging them upwards to wrap around his tip.

“swallow it, baby. wanna feel myself in your throat.”

note ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ meowing.

607 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 25 days ago

Note

Navy!!!

Cooking Together reader would totally get this for Alpine and Bucky would fall so hard for her 🥺🥰

Photo credit

This is the cutest thing EVER.

Come on Over

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You stop by with a gift for Alpine.

Word Count: Over 1.8k

Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, kissing, getting together, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Follow up to Cooking Together! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Two days. It had been two days since Bucky cooked dinner with you in his apartment and he couldn't stop thinking about you. You consumed his thoughts, your voice, your smile, how close you two were while you cooked. He couldn't stop imagining dancing with you in the kitchen, your body against his, your hearts racing in time.

The meal was one of the best he had ever made, which he believed had to be because you helped make it. The conversation at the table was nice, too. He made you laugh more than once, and he felt completely at ease. Nothing forced or awkward. It felt like a date.

But instead of asking you out on a real date when he walked you back to your apartment, he wished you good night and nothing more. Not even a kiss on the cheek. He thought you looked disappointed for a second, but you gave a smile and wished him a good night, too. He almost stopped you before you went into your place, but something just… held him back.

“I’m an idiot,” he whispered, sitting down with a book to distract himself.

Alpine let out a meow as if she agreed, walking out of the room with her tail high.

“Thanks, Al. I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he muttered.

He hadn't made it to the end of the page when he heard a knock at the door. Placing the bookmark in with a sigh, he took a second to stretch once he stood up. He wasn’t expecting company and he hadn't ordered anything. Hopefully whoever was at the door wouldn’t be there for long.

“One sec,” he called out, slowly making his way over.

Once he opened it, his heart skipped a beat and he wished he would have rushed to get there instead of taking his time.

“Hi, Bucky!” you smiled.

He opened the door more to get a better look at you. Dressed down and holding a large box in your hands, you looked effortlessly beautiful. Did you have any idea what sort of spell you put on him whenever he saw you?

“Hi,” he breathed when he realized he was staring for too long.

“How are you?”

“Good,” he replied. Better now that he got to see you. It was also nice because you didn't ask him how he was for the sake of asking. You genuinely wanted to know. “How are you?” he asked, smoothing out his hair followed by his shirt for no reason. Did he look okay?

“I’m also good,” you said, frowning after a second. “But I should've asked if I could stop by. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replied, his book long forgotten as he let you inside. Even if he had plans, he would’ve found a way to shift them around and make time for you. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

“Really?” You bit your lip, and he had to stop himself from groaning. “I was just here a couple of days ago.”

It felt like too long of a gap in-between seeing you. “You can come over whenever you want,” he smiled. He wished you could stop by every day.

Your shoulders relaxed and so did he. “I’m glad to hear that since I may have gotten a little something for Alpine and I was so excited that I couldn’t wait to bring it over.” You held up the box, your eyes crinkling with happiness. “But if you don't like it I can return it.”

“We really are spoiling her,” he chuckled, taking the box from your hands. He didnt mind spoiling Alpine, and it meant a lot that you cared about her. “I’m sure she’ll love your gift.”

Your smile brightened up the room and he found himself staring again. He wanted to drop the box and pull you into his arms to kiss you, ask you out on a date against your lips. Something.

“Hey, Alpine,” you said when she walked back into the living room, snapping him out of his thoughts. She went right to you and rubbed herself against your leg with a gentle purr. He considered himself lucky that his cat adored you so much.

“Look, Al. She got you a present,” he smiled, opening up the box. His eyes widened when looked inside. “And she outdid herself this time.”

You giggled when he took a mini sofa out. Alpine had a big pillow that she curled up on, but this was so much better in his eyes. “I thought it was perfect for her.”

“You mean purrfect?” he asked, inwardly cringing. Yeah, his game sucked.

But you giggled again, a sweet sound that made him sigh. “That's exactly what I meant.”

His eyes darted between his sofa and the mini one in his hand. “It… It matches mine,” he whispered, his heart full at the realization. “Did you have this specially made?”

You looked away for a moment. “Well, the sofa itself isn’t specially made, but the cover is. I figured since she’s your little partner in crime that she should have a sofa like yours to relax on,” you explained, a shy smile gracing your beautiful face. “I also figured I could take photos of her resting on it and send them when you’re on your next mission.”

He swallowed hard when he met your stare. Was it possible to fall for you more? “It’s a really thoughtful gift,” he said, setting it down so Alpine could inspect it for herself. You put time and effort into it, and he knew she’d sense that and love it.

“There’s one more thing,” you smiled, nodding to the box.

His brows pinched together before he looked inside. He somehow completely missed the small card at the bottom. “And what’s this?” he asked.

“It might be a gift card for that pizza place that you order from every week,” you casually said. If Alpine’s gift made his heart full, the additional gift had it overflowing. It may have seemed like a small gesture to you, but it meant a lot that you paid attention to his likes. “I know we plan on taking turns cooking together and I’m really looking forward to that, but I also know how much you love their pizza.”

Bucky pictured himself curled up with you on the sofa while you shared a pizza, Alpine on her little sofa nearby. The mental image brought a soft smile to his face. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to, Bucky,” you said.

Bucky wanted to do nice things for you, too. He wanted to treat you like the queen you were. You deserved it so much and more. Not just for being a good neighbor, but for being you; a shining beacon of light, something he craved after living in darkness for so long.

He moved closer and took one of your hands in his, your breath hitching when his thumb moved along your skin. He heard your heart racing, that same familiar excitement when he was close to you in the kitchen. “You’re beautiful,” he said before he could stop himself. “And amazing.”

“Oh.” He could practically hear the blood rushing to your cheeks. “I'm not-”

“Yes, you are. Believe me.” He wanted to sing your praises. God, how would you react if he praised you in bed?

You dipped your head when you giggled and he wanted to tip your chin up so he could see your pretty eyes again. “Well, you're very handsome and amazing, too,” you said so softly he almost missed it. You thought he was handsome? Amazing? “And I meant it when I said you're the best neighbor I’ve ever had.” You put a finger up when he opened his mouth. “If I can't argue when you compliment me, neither can you.”

“Fair enough,” he said, but wanted to be more than just the best neighbor you’ve ever had. “Do you… have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“No, I don't have any plans,” you answered, gazing at him expectantly, giving him an opening.

He inched forward, his heart racing. He had to take a chance, something he should've done two days ago. “Will you stay for dinner then?”

“Yeah, I will,” you smiled. He exhaled, happy that you wanted to stay. “Are we cooking something or ordering pizza?”

“I think it’s only fair that we get pizza since you were kind enough to get me that gift card.” As nice as that sounded, it wasn't enough. He selfishly wanted more. “But maybe…”

“Maybe what?” you asked, a hopeful look in your eyes that said he was reading this right.

“Maybe we can have dinner this weekend, but as a date.”

He steeled himself, praying that you'd still be a friend and a good neighbor at the very least if he read it wrong and you didn't want to go out with him.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, your smile widening more. He almost didn't believe his ears. “I’d love that.”

“You… You really want to go out with me?” he asked, needing to hear you say it again to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

You brought a hand to his cheek and he didn't hesitate to lean into your touch. “I really do.”

He still had your other hand in his and he wondered if he felt the light tremble that moved through his body. “Am I pushing my luck if I kiss you?”

You trembled this time. “Not at all,” you whispered.

His heart pounded in his ears when he leaned in. His nose brushed yours affectionately, giving you a chance to pull away if you wanted, wanting to do this right. But you were waiting with bated breath, your lips skimming his and giving him permission. So he pressed his mouth against yours in the gentlest of kisses, not wanting to take more than you were willing to offer, not wanting to rush it.

“Should've done that two nights ago,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. He should've kissed you a long time ago.

“So, you did want to kiss me two nights ago?” you asked breathlessly.

“Been wanting to kiss you for ages,” he admitted. He just wanted you, however you’d let him have you.

“I’ve been wanting that, too,” you smiled, letting him wrap his arm around you to hold you closer. Hearing you admit that brought a sense of relief and hunger. “So kiss me again.”

“In front of Al?” he teased, who was already curled up on her new sofa.

“Well.” He frowned when you tried to pull out of his grasp. “If you don't want to…”

He immediately pulled you back to him, smothering your giggle with his lips. He wanted to spend the rest of the day kissing you. And that was exactly what he did.

So sweet! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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ciaoteamo · 1 year ago

Text

Milk and Water (Pt. I)

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?

pt.II

art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)

warning: 18+ content

“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.

A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.

“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.

“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.

You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.

You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.

“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.

“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.

Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.

“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.

You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.

“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.

“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.

“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.

His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.

Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.

“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button

“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.

“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.

“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.

“hm” You nod and press the button.

“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.

You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.

The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.

You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.

About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.

Staring at you.

His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.

“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.

“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.

“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”

He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.

His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.

“…what. the. fuck.”

#milkman #milkman x reader #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #ciaoteamo #x reader #imagine #smut #fem dom reader #thats not my neighbor #milkman smut #milk the man

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witchywithwhiskey · 2 months ago

Note

hiiiii, it's asreadbyaj, wanting to participate in your sweethearts game. You know how much I'm obsessed with your toxic Bucky series so naturallyyyyy I had to pick Mr. Barnes and the sweetheart "Crazy 4 You." If that prompt's already picked, however, I'll go with "You Wish"

it's kind of a funny story

pairing: divorced neighbor!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you get back early from a work trip, happy to see your cat alpine, but a little sad to have no one else to come home to. things change, though, when you discover your neighbor in your bed doing something very inappropriate...

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), unspecified age gap, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f and m receiving), face-sitting, masturbation (m and f), cock warming, brief pussy spanking, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, accidental voyeurism, tit worship, nipple play, large cock, marking, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation kink, pet names (bunny, baby), aftercare, happy ending, both reader and bucky are big pervs

word count: 8.5k

a/n: ahh AJ, you were the first person to send in Bucky Barnes and i just knew i had to use this tweet as inspiration for the prompt. i also liked the idea of Alpine belonging to reader and Bucky coming to adopt the cat by getting together with reader. also sorry this is so long, i just had so much fun writing these two!! 🫣 anyway thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy ♡♡

sweethearts game masterlist

A happy, chirping meow greeted you as soon as you pushed inside your apartment. The ball of white fluff lounging in a spot of golden, late afternoon sunshine rose and darted toward you, winding around your legs.

Despite your exhaustion from your trip, a soft smile curved your lips. You dropped your bags and bent down to scratch between the ears of the white furball that lived in your apartment—also known as your cat, Alpine.

“Hello, sweet girl,” you cooed at her, scooping up her fluffy body and pressing kisses all over her furry face. Alpine’s expression was partly aggrieved, no doubt angry that you’d gone away again, and partly indulgent of your love.

Truthfully, you were just as aggravated about your time away as Alpine. Your job had you travelling more and more, despite the role purporting to be work-from-home, and each time you returned to your apartment, you couldn’t help but be reminded that Alpine was the only one there to greet you.

In the comfort of your own space, you could admit to yourself that it would’ve been nice to have a person to come home to—a man who’d happily shower you with just as much affection as you were showing Alpine. A man who’d help you with your bags and then wrap you up in his arms and kiss the exhaustion from your lips.

Of their own volition, and as they often did, your thoughts strayed to Bucky Barnes.

The divorced man had moved into the apartment immediately below yours a little over two years ago, having split from his wife and needing his own space. He was older than you—too old for you to have anything so banal as a crush on him. And yet, you often found yourself thinking about Bucky Barnes.

His brown hair was a little too long, and messily swept back from his face in the way of someone who frequently ran their hands through it. The scruff on his jaw was a little too thick, like he was constantly forgetting to shave but refused to commit to a full beard. His blue eyes were bright and sharp, but more often than not, they were framed with dark circles like he didn’t get enough sleep.

Bucky Barnes was a bit of a mess, but he was handsome in a way that made your heart beat a little faster in your chest and a low warmth begin to simmer in your body whenever you passed him on the stairs and got a whiff of his cologne. It was spicy and earthy and you wanted to bury your face in his neck and inhale deeply, certain you’d be able to get high off it if you tried hard enough.

Shaking your head to free yourself from thoughts of Bucky Barnes, you scratched Alpine under the chin and cooed at her, “Did Mr. Bucky take good care of you while mama was away, sweetie?”

Alpine let out another of her happy meows, butting her head against your cheek, as if to say she’d been very well taken care of, but still missed you. The edges of your mouth curled into a smile and you nuzzled the cat back, pressing a kiss between her ears.

Before Bucky had moved into your building, if you ever needed someone to feed Alpine while you were away, you’d gone to Mrs. Cabrera down the hall. But when your work trips had grown more frequent, she’d had to ask you to find someone else, unable to balance Alpine’s care with her active social life and visiting her grandchildren all over the city.

You’d been on the phone with your best friend in the lobby of the building, asking whether she’d be able to stop by and feed Alpine, when Bucky had been getting his mail. He’d offered to help you out, and you’d been so grateful, you hadn’t grilled him too much on what he knew about taking care of cats.

Bucky had turned out to be a surprising success as a catsitter. He sent you photos of Alpine a few times a day while you were out of town, and reported perfunctorily on how much she’d eaten, how many treats he’d given her and what toys he’d used to play with her.

He was everything you’d ever hoped for in a sitter for Alpine, and the fact that he was so good with your cat only made your crush on him burn hotter. When you were on your work trips, you often fantasized about coming home to Bucky and Alpine, and the happy little family you’d make together.

Your trip home that day had been no different. You’d been called to another city halfway across the country for the week and had originally intended to fly home the next day, but you managed to book an earlier flight that got you home on the evening of Valentine’s Day.

You refused to think about how pathetic you were—daydreaming about returning home to your divorced neighbor, and all the ways you wanted him to show you how happy he was to see you, while everyone else was going out on romantic dates with actual partners.

If you thought about it too much, about how desperately you wanted someone to love you, it would’ve made you miserable. So you didn’t think about it.

Alpine squirmed in your arms, suddenly deciding she was done with your love fest, and you let her hop down, watching fondly as she shook out her fluffy white fur. The cat turned her big blue eyes up at you and meowed, then led you toward her food bowl in the kitchen.

“Did Mr. Bucky forget to feed you, sweet girl?” you asked with a frown, toeing out of your shoes and following her through the living room.

It wasn’t like Bucky to forget to feed her, and, sure enough, when you saw Alpine’s bowl, you could still see traces of the wet food he had given her that evening. It was even still a little wet, so you knew he’d been by pretty recently.

You were inexplicably sad that you’d missed him. It would’ve been almost like your fantasies if you’d come home while he’d still been feeding Alpine, but you pushed the thoughts aside, refusing to dwell on them any longer.

Chuckling to yourself when Alpine meowed forlornly, you grabbed the bag of treats and fed her a few while you gave her even more pets and kisses, apologizing for being gone so much.

As you were giving Alpine as much love as the cat could stomach, a soft sound came from the direction of your bedroom.

You froze at the unfamiliar noise. It didn’t sound like any of the normal creaks and groans of the old Brooklyn building you called home.

Your mind raced as you jumped to the most obvious—and unlikely—conclusion, that there was a murderer in your bedroom, lying in wait to stab you gruesomely. But just as quickly as the thought flitted across your mind, you pushed it aside, telling yourself to be realistic.

Alpine had just eaten, and there were no signs of your front door lock having been broken. It was probably just Bucky, who was the only other person to have a key to your apartment. Just like that, your heart started to race with excitement—he was still at your apartment.

He’d probably needed to use the bathroom. Or maybe he’d laid down on your bed and fallen asleep.

You’d come home to find him like that once. He’d been sprawled across your bed, feet hanging over the side, mouth open and drooling a little on you comforter, one of Alpine’s cat toys dangling loosely in his hand like he’d fallen asleep playing with her.

For a moment, you’d just looked at him, your heart beating fast against your sternum as dangerous thoughts flitted across your mind—thoughts about how good he looked in your bed, how soft his hair might feel if you ran your fingers through it and pushed it back from his face.

You’d given yourself that moment to indulge in your wildest fantasies, and then you’d shaken his shoulder gently to wake him.

He’d apologized profusely, pushing his hair back from his face while a blush spread across his cheeks, and you’d been incapable of thinking it was creepy or weird. Bucky was a bit of a mess, and apparently that included falling asleep in his neighbor’s apartment while playing with her cat.

Another sound came from your bedroom, and you were comforted by how much it sounded like a snore.

Confident it was Bucky, having accidentally fallen asleep on your bed again, you stepped softly toward your room, not wanting to wake him. You wanted another stolen moment to watch him sleep and imagine him spending more time in your bed—preferably naked.

But when you reached the doorway to your bedroom, you stopped short. Your breath caught sharply in your throat at the sight that greeted you.

Bucky Barnes lay on his back across the middle of your bed, his shirt off, revealing a broad golden chest with a generous dusting of dark hair. That was enough for your eyes to widen, to snag on the rise and fall of his pecs and the bulge of his bicep as he breathed heavily.

But then your gaze followed the line of his muscular arm down to where his belt buckle was undone, his jeans were unzipped and his hand was shoved into the black boxer briefs he wore. Out of sight, you could see Bucky’s hand moving, his knuckles brushed against the inside of the soft cotton of his briefs as they moved in an unmistakable stroking motion.

Between your thighs, your clit twitched. The bundle of nerves practically perked up like a desperate puppy as you watched Bucky’s hand move inside his briefs while he pleasured himself, his hips thrusting into his own touch like all he wanted to do was pound into his fist, but he was trying prolong it.

He groaned softly, the sound drifting across your room and sending so much heat spiraling through your body that you squirmed where you stood. Still, you were transfixed—unable to look away or give Bucky some semblance of privacy, and unable to move forward and join him as your body so desperately wanted.

Worried he might’ve sensed you watching him, your eyes flicked up to Bucky’s face, which was when you noticed he was holding something up to his mouth and nose. He took a deep breath, grunting softly again as his fist worked a little faster in his jeans.

The thing in Bucky’s hand was one of your sweaters, you realized dazedly. It was one that you’d tossed onto the chair in the corner before you’d left on your trip. It must’ve still smelled like you, like the barest hint of your perfume…

And Bucky was smelling it. He was inhaling the scent with deep breaths while he stroked his cock. On your bed.

On some level, you knew there was something deeply wrong about what Bucky was doing. You knew that he’d crossed so many boundaries—taking off his shirt, laying on your bed, smelling your sweater, stroking his cock in your room—that your trust in him should be broken irrevocably.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to feel horror or disgust or betrayal at his actions. Maybe it was the shock of finding your divorced neighbor in such an erotic state, or the fact that you were lonely and Bucky had been the object of your fantasies for so long, but all you felt was turned on.

You were filled with a pleasant warmth that was burning hotter and hotter with every moment you stood in the doorway of your room, watching Bucky stroke himself in his jeans. A revealing wetness was growing between your thighs, your legs pressing together against the ache building in your core.

It had only been a few seconds since you’d discovered Bucky in your bed, stroking his cock while he smelled your sweater, but you were already so turned on, you were squirming in the doorway. Your fingers drifted to the juncture of your thighs and pressed into the seam of your leggings.

A breathless whimper slipped from your lips as you rubbed your clit, the spark of pleasure having an incendiary effect on your body. What had been a simmering heat of desire was quickly growing into an inferno of need—a need that you suspected only Bucky, with his deft fingers and hard cock, would be able to sate.

You hadn’t thought the sound you’d made was loud enough to catch your neighbor’s attention, but Bucky froze for a beat before his head turned and he saw you in the doorway. Surprise and guilt flickered across his gaze, his arm moving as if to pull his hand from his pants.

But then Bucky seemed to take in the full sight of you, and his eyes snagged on the way your hand was pressed between your thighs, your fingers unmistakably rubbing your clit. His gaze darkened to a midnight blue, and a knowing smirk spread across his handsome face.

Suddenly, you felt like you were the one who’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t and, inexplicably, that only made you feel hotter and squirmier. Snatching your hand away from your clit—ignoring the way your body protested—you twisted your fingers together uncertainly.

“I caught an earlier flight,” you blurted, feeling the need to explain your sudden appearance in your own apartment.

Bucky’s smirk only seemed to deepen and for one, breathless moment, you simply stood there, staring deep into his eyes. There was no judgement in his gaze, no recrimination for touching yourself when you found him stroking his cock on your bed. There was only a desire that matched the feeling pulsing through your body.

Slowly, as if worrying he’d spook you if he moved too fast, Bucky pulled his hand from his pants and your eyes darted to it uncertainly, wondering what he was doing.

He reached out to you, his hand open and welcoming—and you had the wild urge to press your face into his palm, to breathe in the scent of his cock, which surely lingered on his skin. You wanted to lick the taste from his palm and nuzzle into his hand, but his voice broke you free from those thoughts.

“C’mere, bunny,” Bucky rumbled, so much affection and lust dripping from his tone that the pet name felt like a sweet caress to your cheek.

You could hardly think, your mind a twisted mess of what you should do and what you wanted to do. But your body didn’t seem the least bit confused. Your feet carried you forward, closing the short distance between the doorway and the bed, and you were sliding your fingers into Bucky’s palm by the time you’d admitted to yourself it was what you wanted.

Bucky helped you onto the bed, the older man showing his strength as he manhandled you into the position he wanted—your knees planted on either side of his torso, your clothed pussy hovering a few inches above his face.

“Sit on me, bunny, let me breathe you,” Bucky murmured gruffly from between your legs, his hands gently kneading your thighs. You could feel his harsh breaths against your sodden core, and it made you all the more eager to follow his command.

You lowered your hips until you felt Bucky’s nose against your slit and stopped, hovering above his face and fearing that you’d crush him with your weight—which would be a tragic thing to do when you’d only just found him shirtless in your bed.

But Bucky didn’t like that. His hands wrapped around the tops of your thighs, fingers digging into the creases where your legs met your hips, and he yanked you down until your body settled on him entirely.

He groaned loudly, the sound only slightly muffled by the way his hot mouth was pressed against your damp center, which sent shivers of delight dancing through your body.

A sudden, breathy moan tumbled from your lips and your whole body trembled with pleasure, your thighs quivering on either side of Bucky’s shoulders. It felt so good that you wanted more, so you pressed down harder on his face.

You could feel the hungry grin Bucky wore before he opened his mouth and you felt his tongue lick a searing line along your slit. You could feel him, hot and hungry, through your leggings and panties, the heat of him sending delicious sparks up your spine.

Unable to keep holding yourself up, you curled forward, your cheek pressing against Bucky’s hip and getting a front row seat to the sight of his hand slipping into his boxer briefs. You watched the obscured view of his fingers curling around his hard, thick length, your mouth falling open with wonder as he stroked himself slowly.

All the while, Bucky mouthed at your pussy, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue before licking deep into your slit and groaning obscenely at the taste of your arousal. It was mesmerizing, the way Bucky licked you through your clothes while he stroked his cock just out of sight.

You could’ve stayed like that for hours, reveling in your euphoria and watching Bucky pleasure himself, but the longer his mouth worked your pussy, the more your need grew and grew. Between one breath and the next, you went from laying peacefully on Bucky to grinding your pussy shamelessly on his face, seeking your release.

“That’s it, bunny, grind your needy little cunt on daddy’s face,” Bucky growled, his words half muffled by your heated flesh pressed to his mouth. “Knew you’d be a perfect little slut for me, be a good slut for daddy and make yourself feel good.”

Your pussy spasmed when Bucky called himself ‘daddy’, a lewd moan slipping from your lips that you tried to bury against the older man’s bulge. You’d never called anyone that before, even though you’d thought about it plenty, and it felt like a precious gift that Bucky seemed to want you to call him daddy.

You felt undone and laid bare by Bucky’s tongue and his words, your innermost fantasies exposed to the golden late afternoon light streaming into your bedroom. It was all you could do to spread your knees wider and hump against the older man’s face, giving in to all your basest desires.

“Daddy, it feels sooo good,” you whimpered, nuzzling mindlessly into Bucky’s cock while your hips worked harder against his face. “Your mouth feels so good, daddy, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Bucky pulled his hand from his pants and you immediately replaced it with your mouth, your lips curving around the thick ridge of his cock through his boxer briefs, sucking on the tip. You huffed a happy sound as his musky taste burst on your tongue.

His hips bucked up off the bed, a muffled grunt coming from between your thighs and you smiled against his hardness. You secured your lips more tightly around him, letting your spit dampen the cotton of his briefs while you sucked lewdly on the crown of his cock.

For a moment, Bucky must’ve been distracted by your mouth, but then he seemed to remember himself. His fingers slipped under your sweater and hooked in the back of your leggings, yanking them and your panties down over your ass until the cool air of the room brushed against your bare pussy.

You barely had time to mewl, the sound full of blatant need, before Bucky was pulling you back down on his face, his hot mouth latching onto your pussy without anything in between. He took a deep breath, the sound of him sucking in the smell of you loud, even while it was muffled by your body.

“Fuck, bunny, you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about getting my mouth on your sweet cunt,” Bucky groaned, pressing the flat of his tongue into your slit and licking greedily. He pushed deep into your hole, mouth sucking your juices straight from the source. “You taste better than I ever imagined, so fucking sweet—you’re such a good slut, creaming all over daddy’s tongue.”

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasped, pleasure driving you as you pushed your hips down hard on Bucky’s face and began grinding against his mouth, feeling him smile between your thighs. It only drove your pleasure higher, pushing you closer to the edge. “Please, daddy—daddy, please make me cum, ‘m so close!”

“Cum on my tongue, sweet bunny, cum like a perfect little slut for your daddy,” Bucky rumbled in a gruff, lust-soaked voice. Then his lips were closing around your clit and he sucked hard on the tight bundle of nerves, his tongue lashing at the tip until the coil of tension in your body snapped.

Pleasure crashed through your body and you let out a sharp cry as you came. Burying your face against the base of Bucky’s cock, you sobbed through your release, wave after wave of pleasure sweeping through and devastating you while you moaned into the older man’s balls.

Between your thighs, Bucky groaned and lapped up your release hungrily, licking you through all the minor tremors and aftershocks of your release. He eased you down from your high gracefully, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy while your inner walls fluttered around nothing.

“I’m gonna treat you so well, baby, gonna take such good care of you,” Bucky rumbled, talking to your body in such a way that you weren’t even sure if he was talking to you or your pussy. “Gonna fill you with my cock and so much cum, your belly will be bloated with it.”

At that, you moaned softly, enjoying the way Bucky’s cock twitched against your cheek. You nuzzled into his hard length, pressing soft kisses everywhere you could reach while you were still laying collapsed on top of him, sated from your orgasm.

Bucky didn’t seem to be paying much attention to anything but your pussy, though, as he used his fingers to spread you open, pushing his tongue deep into your hole like he was searching for the last drop of a sweet treat. When you moaned around his cock, he grunted hotly into your cunt.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna be craving my cock every second of the day,” he want on, his voice growing rougher with desire, using his nose to nudge against your clit and make it twitch for him. “Whenever I’m not inside you, you’re gonna be wishing I was, bunny—just like I spend every fucking minute of my day thinking about this sweet pussy.”

The warm haze of your release had mostly worn off, and it took you only a second to process Bucky’s words, a gasp slipping from your lips as your whole body clenched tight. A greedy, possessive side you never knew you had delighted in the idea of Bucky thinking about you so much—it seemed only fair when you’d thought about him nonstop for two years.

“Do it, daddy,” you murmured, a challenge in your tone that had Bucky going still. His fingers dug into the plush curves of your hips as if wordlessly telling you to continue. “I’ve wanted your cock for months,” you confessed, pressing a kiss to his hard length, still pushing against the soft cotton of his boxer briefs. “Show me what I’ve been missing, Bucky, show me what I’ve been craving—please, daddy.”

Your voice was little more than a purr, and that final ‘daddy’ seemed to snap something in Bucky because his hands were shifting on your hips and he was lifting you up from his face, manhandling you onto your back on the bed. Bucky pushed between your thighs, covering your body with his own until his face was level with yours.

“Are you sure, bunny—tell me you’re sure,” Bucky asked urgently, a desperate rasp in his voice as his wild blue eyes raked over your face, as if searching for any trace of uncertainty. “Because I’ve thought about this for so long, you’ll break my heart if you’re not serious.”

Your hands cupped Bucky’s scruffy jaw and you looked at his face, really looked at him. He still had dark circles under his eyes, and weathered lines feathering out from the corners of his eyes. His hair was half sticking up and flopping to the side at the same time, the brown strands looking so soft and inviting, begging you to thread your fingers through it.

Bucky Barnes was still a bit of a mess, but he was a mess you craved unequivocally. And, even though you’d found him pleasuring himself in your bed, after the intense orgasm he’d given you, there was no way you’d pass up a chance to find out what else your divorced neighbor had to offer.

“I’m sure, Bucky,” you said, your voice calm and certain. “I want this—I want you.” You dragged him in close enough to brush your lips against his in the ghost of a kiss, tasting traces of yourself on his lips. “Fuck me, daddy, make me your slut and show your bunny who she belongs to.”

Bucky groaned and slanted his mouth to yours, kissing you softly at first before deepening it by sliding his tongue along your plump lower lip. You opened for him readily, groaning into his mouth when he slid inside and you tasted your cum on his tongue. It was dirty and filthy and the perfect counterpoint to the sweet way it had started.

As he kissed you, Bucky’s hands grew more and more bold, slipping beneath your sweater and groping your tits through your bra. When you pulled away to gasp for air, the older man made quick work of pulling off your sweater and then unclasping your bra, tossing both somewhere in your room.

Then Bucky paused, his gaze transfixed by your tits. He watched, awe etched into his features, as his big hands cupped your soft mounds. His thumbs stroked over your nipples, the sparkling pleasure of his touch making your spine arch as a mewl spilled from your lips.

Bucky closed his eyes, like he was overcome by the sight, which only made a new warmth bloom in your chest. It had been hot to see him jerking himself off while he smelled your sweater, but this—seeing Bucky nearly come undone just from watching your reaction to his thumb sweeping over your nipple was something else entirely.

Your fingers wrapped around the strong muscle of Bucky’s forearms, just above his wrists, and you urged him on. “More, daddy, please,” you whimpered, catching his eye when his flew open, the blue of his gaze darkening into something smoldering and hot.

“You’re so soft, so fucking perfect, bunny,” Bucky grunted. The veins in his arms stood out in sharp relief as he groped you more roughly, spurred by the soft sounds of delight you were making, until you were squirming beneath him. “Always knew your tits would be perfect.”

“Daddy,” you moaned, arching your spine and pushing your tits into Bucky’s touch. You were giving yourself over to the pleasure of Bucky’s big hands on your body, sinking deeper into the pillows at your back as you babbled, “Feels so good, so good, daddy.”

Another orgasm was building in your core by the time Bucky had his fill of your tits, moving his hands down your sides and pausing for a moment to grope your ass. The movement pulled your pussy lips apart, and you could feel how wet and messy you were from your earlier release and the new arousal he’d coaxed from you by playing with your tits.

Bucky let out a growl of impatience when he tried to pull your leggings and panties down, finding himself in the way, and folded your body in half. He yanked them up your legs and off, tossing them off the bed and leaving you naked, bent in half with your knees pushed to your chest and your pussy on full display.

You watched Bucky’s gaze fall to the place where you were wet and aching and desperate for him, seeing his gaze grow dark and intense as he stared at your pussy. You were drenched in your own juices and a little swollen from the earlier attention of his mouth, and the sight seemed to drive Bucky wild.

His hands were rough as he pushed your legs together, his other hand shoving impatiently as his jeans and boxer briefs, pawing at his clothes almost like a feral dog. You took pity on him—and, truthfully, you wanted him to hurry up. You wrapped your arms around the backs of your knees to hold yourself in position so he could use both hands to free himself.

When Bucky’s cock finally, finally bounced free from his boxer briefs, you gasped in delight, the thick length of his dick looking perfect to your eyes.

It had a slight curve to it, with a thick tip that was flushed an angry red and dripping precum onto the back of your thighs. Bucky’s fist curled around the base and your eyes raked up the length, drool gathering in your mouth at the sight of the veins protruding from the shaft.

You wanted desperately to trace every single vein with your tongue, teasing Bucky mercilessly until his hips were bucking in a silent plea. And then you wanted to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tasting his precum from the source, before letting him fuck your throat.

But that would have to wait fore another time, because Bucky had other ideas.

He used his grip on his cock to smack the heavy length against your soft, wet slit, fucking between your swollen folds in a way that made you light-headed with desire. You could feel the tip bullying against your tight little hole before sliding past and teasingly brushing your clit.

“You want my cock, baby?” Bucky rasped, his tone dark and dangerous in a way you’d never heard before, like fucking you was a threat he had every intention of delivering on. “You want daddy’s cock to push into your tight cunt and fuck you hard, even after you caught me jerking off in your bed?”

Your breath caught in a gasp and your eyes flew to Bucky’s. He was looking directly at you, the hint of a deviant smirk in the curve of his lips.

He’d looked guilty when you’d first found him that afternoon, but in that moment, he looked entirely too satisfied with himself—like a demon who’d already convinced you to sell your soul to him and all that was left was to have some fun. He looked hot.

A slightly unhinged smile spread across your face. Later, the two of you would talk about what you’d walked in on, but until then, you could accept the hand Bucky was reaching out to you and sink down into the filthy depravity of his actions. You could join him in reveling in it.

“Yes—please, daddy!” you cried, one of your hands reaching for him. Your nails dug into his forearm, delighting in the feeling of his muscles and tendons shifting beneath your touch. “I don’t care what you did—I don’t care if you’re a dirty old man, I want your cock!”

Bucky’s reaction was immediate, his eyes darkening dramatically at your pronouncement, his pupils blowing so wide, they nearly blotted out all of the blue. A growl rumbled in his chest as he lowered himself over your body, his cock bullying more insistently at your hole, but never pushing inside, leaving you to squirm and whine beneath him.

“Tell me, bunny, did it turn you on to catch a dirty old pervert jerking off to the scent of your perfume in your bed?” he asked, his tone deep and dangerous, his eyes sparkling as they held your gaze without mercy. “Did your slutty pussy get wet catching me like that—be honest, tell daddy the truth.”

His hips were working insistently, fucking through your swollen folds, while the knuckles of his fist brushed against your greedy, achingly empty cunt. It was all you could do to huff an impatient sound, your hips bucking up against his cock, but Bucky didn’t give you what you truly wanted. He was waiting for your answer.

“My clit twitched and I got so wet,” you confessed, and you were so drunk on the desire pounding through your body that it loosened your tongue until you were spilling your every filthy thought. “It was so hot, seeing you like that, and I’ve thought about you so many times—I’ve touched myself in this bed thinking about your cock splitting me open—and you were stroking yourself and… I couldn’t help it!”

“Jesus, bunny,” Bucky groaned, dropping his head and closing his eyes. His hips stilled, his cock resting heavily on your messy, swollen cunt, and you whined, your body squirming at the lack of movement.

Bucky’s eyes flew open a moment later, pinning you with a predatory stare that had you freezing, your breath catching in your throat. He looked at you as if through new eyes, eyes that finally, truly understood you.

“You’re just as much of a pervert as I am, aren’t you, bunny?” he asked, his tone rough with affection bleeding into it. His big palm caressed your thigh, almost like he was trying to soothe you.

You had to bite your lip to hold back your grin, which only made Bucky’s eyes flare with interest, his gaze falling to your mouth like he wanted to free your lip from your teeth and then sink his own into its plush softness. It would’ve made you giggle if it wasn’t for how hot and wet and aching you were for his cock.

“Yes, daddy,” you said sweetly, smiling up at Bucky while he leaned over you. “I’m just as much of a dirty pervert as you.” You dragged him down until his lips crashed against yours, the kiss filthy and messy, all nipping teeth and roaming tongues. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but add, “I’m just not as old as you.”

A good-natured growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, a playful grin curving his mouth. He looked like he’d taken the comment in stride, but you learned better a moment later when he pulled his cock out of the way before spanking your pussy sharply, your shrill squeal filling the room.

“You’re not that young either, bunny,” Bucky said pointedly, sliding his cock back between your lower lips. “Not young enough to stop me from fantasizing about you every night, coming in my hand like a goddamn teenager,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Daddyyy,” you whined, when he seemed content to keep rubbing his cock against your pussy instead of pushing inside. It was driving you closer and closer to your second release, but you didn’t want to cum until you’d been filled and fucked hard, just like he’d promised. “Now that we’ve established we’re both gigantic perverts, will you fuck me already?”

Your voice was a pleading, pitiful sound, and when Bucky finally dragged his gaze from your pussy, you pouted up at him. Your cunt was dripping and so empty, you just wanted him inside you already, which you tried to convey with your eyes.

“Anything for my bunny,” Bucky growled, his words your only warning before he pulled his hips back and lined up the tip of his cock with your pussy. In the next breath, Bucky was shoving his considerable girth into your tight hole and you were crying out at the stretch.

“Too big, too big,” you whined, and Bucky paused immediately, but you didn’t want that. “Don’t stop,” you cried, your hands reaching for him, grabbing his hips and sinking your nails into golden skin as you dragged him closer. “Split me open, daddy, fuck me full.”

Bucky let out a grunt of acknowledgement and planted his hands on the backs of your thighs, pulling back before pushing in deeper. He split you open with merciless determination, working his cock deeper into your cunt with every thrust.

When he was nearly there, he rearranged himself, leaning over your body and pressing you into the mattress, covering you with his larger form while his cock worked into your tight cunt. The position put his face level with yours and the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk when he took in the blissed out look on your face.

“You’re so tight, has it been a while, bunny?” he asked teasingly, his eyes watching your expression closely, like he was looking for something more than his words implied.

But if he was worried about whether there were any other men in your bed, he needn’t have. Bucky Barnes had been the star of all your fantasies since the day you’d met him two years ago.

“Too long—three years,” you gasped, rocking your hips in time to his thrusts. You watched the worry drain from his expression, the emotion quickly replaced with an intoxicating mix of possessiveness and affection. You liked it so much, you wanted to drive your point home. “Not since before you moved into the building.”

You’d barely gotten the words out before Bucky’s mouth was crashing down on yours, his hands roughly pushing your thighs out of the way so he could press his chest against yours, skin to skin, getting as close as humanly possible while his hips drove his cock home.

“I’m crazy for you, bunny,” Bucky rumbled when he pulled away, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock buried fully in your cunt. “You’ve been under my skin since I met you, and I knew I should forget you—you’re too good for me—but I couldn’t.”

His hips started rocking, fucking you in short, grinding thrusts that had the tip of him rubbing against a spot inside you that made your whole body clench tight. Your fingers sank into his messy, soft brown hair, threading through the soft strands. You pulled his mouth close to yours as he went on.

“I don’t know if I can let you go afer this, baby, I don’t think I can do a one-time thing,” he confessed, brushing kisses to your lips and cheeks and nose, everywhere he could reach. “Fuck, you feel like you were made for me, bunny.”

“I was,” you said, your voice vehement even as you exhaled a shuddering breath, fighting against the pleasure building in your core to keep your mind together long enough to say what you wanted to say. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing, I don’t want you to let me go.”

Using your grip on Bucky’s hair, you pushed him away, only far enough that you could look into his eye as you went on. You wanted him to see the honesty on your face and hear it in your words at the same time.

“I want to be your bunny—your girl, made to take your cock,” you confessed, your words coming out of you in a rush. “I want to be your perfect slut and let you drain your balls in my cunt whenever you want—I want it all, daddy.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Bucky bit out, his eyes closing as if he was overwhelmed by everything you’d just said. But they opened again a moment later, looking intense, the flicker of something deeper than affection sparking to life in the depth of his gaze. “You’re gonna be the death of me, bunny.”

You huffed a laugh at that, unable to hold back the smile his words set free.

“Silly daddy,” you teased, rocking your hips and digging your heels into the backs of his thighs, spurring him to move, to thrust into your pussy and bring you pleasure. “You’re not allowed to die,” you purred, arching your spine and bearing down on his cock. “Not before you make me cum again.”

It was Bucky’s turn to laugh, the sound coming out choked and dissolving into a groan when your bodies found a perfect rhythm together. He moved determinedly, working your body up until you were teetering on the edge of your second release.

“Cum inside me, daddy,” you murmured against Bucky’s scruffy cheek, nuzzling into the coarse hair and soft skin that smelled like earth and spice. “Fill up your bunny with all your cum, my pussy’s begging for it—I’m begging for it, daddy, please.”

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, bunny, such a good slut,” Bucky rumbled, his hips snapping against yours in deep, brutal thrusts that had you seeing stars. “Taking daddy’s cock so well and begging for daddy’s cum so sweetly—you’re such a perfect girl.”

You keened happily at Bucky’s praise, your knees climbing his sides until you were nearly folded in half again. His hips were pounding into yours so hard, you could hear the lewd smacking of his skin on yours, the wet sounds of your sticky, clingy pussy between you.

“I’m gonna give it to you, baby,” Bucky gritted through clenched teeth, changing the angle of his hips so his cock rubbed against your clit with every thrust. “Cum for me, bunny, cum for daddy so I can fill you up with my seed.”

His filthy words and the perfect way he was fucking you set you off, making you cum harder than you ever had before. A scream wrenched from your throat as you threw your head back into the pillows of your bed, your spine arching up off the mattress and your pussy clenching down hard on Bucky’s cock as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you.

Your release sparked Bucky’s, his hips rutting into your fluttering cunt before he came with a grunt muffled into the side of your head. His hard length twitched deep inside you as he spilled his seed, flooding your pussy with his cum.

But he didn’t stop moving, Bucky’s hips kept working, fucking his cum deeper inside you while you clung to him, your skin slick with sweat. You buried your face in his neck and sucked a hickey into his skin, unable to stifle the possessive urge to mark him just as he was marking your insides with his cum.

When you were both finally sated, Bucky rolled over with his hand pressed to your lower back, keeping your bodies locked together and your hips pinned to him. His cock was still lodged deep in your pussy, plugging you full of his cum. He heaved a contented sigh with your body sprawled out on top of his.

It wasn’t until both of you had caught your breath that you lifted your head and met Bucky’s gaze, giving him a pointed look.

“So,” you started, drawing out the word and enjoying the way his eyes crinkled and looked to the side, as if he knew what was coming. “Do you want to tell me why I came home to find my divorced neighbor-slash-catsitter jerking off in my bed?”

Your tone was light, even if the question was not, and you half expected Bucky to get defensive, but he just laughed a little awkwardly and ran his fingers through his hair. The move made his already messy hair even messier, so you tangled your fingers with his and trapped them beneath your chin, which was propped up on his chest.

“You know, it’s kind of a funny story,” Bucky began, darting his eyes to yours, as if making sure you were paying attention—and weren’t about to bludgeon him over the head.

When you gestured for him to go on, he continued.

“I’d picked up Alpine—for her post-dinner snuggle, of course,” he said, a slight pink blush in the apples of his cheeks.

“Of course,” you echoed, the ghost of a smile flirting at the corners of your mouth. It sounded exactly like Alpine to demand cuddles after she’d just eaten. Not that you could blame her, you would have greedily taken cuddles from Bucky too.

The older man smiled indulgently at your expression, like he knew it was for your cat and not necessarily for him. But it seemed to embolden him to continue on.

“I was just asking Alpine if she had any tips on how to tell her mama that I’m crazy about her,” he said, his voice warm with affection.

It was so sweet, you tilted your face down, biting into one of the knuckles on his hand. The older man didn’t even flinch. Bucky just laughed and went on speaking.

“Anyway, her claw got stuck in my sweater and it hurt, and she was yowling like she was going to die.”

You lifted your head again and Bucky’s eyes were wide as he told this part of the story, his gaze staring off into the near distance like he was haunted by the memory, which you could understand. It wasn’t easy to keep your calm when you had a sharp nail digging into your skin and a cat that was freaking out.

“I took my sweater off, and got her nail unstuck, but Alpine grabbed it and ran off.”

You laughed, wondering what would possess your cat to do such a thing, even as you nuzzled deeper into Bucky’s chest. Breathing in the scent of him, all earth and spice, you thought you might get it. You wanted to be surrounded by his scent and would’ve gladly stolen his sweater if you’d had the chance.

“I was looking for one of your sweaters to see if she’d let me trade it for mine,” Bucky explained, his voice starting to slow, as if he’d gotten to a part of the story he didn’t want to tell. “I caught a whiff of your perfume and I…” He ran his free hand down over his face.”Look, there’s no excuse for what I did—I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

Bucky caught your eye and he was so handsome, all you could do was stare. The sun was dipping low, slipping behind the buildings of Brooklyn. The light in your room was quickly turning from golden yellow to the tranquil blue of sunset, and everything felt just right.

Your silence, however, seemed to make Bucky nervous, so he kept talking.

“Have I mentioned that I’m crazy for you and I haven’t touched a woman in over two years and I forgot how fucking hard a woman’s perfume can make me?” he rambled, a pleading tone in his voice.

It was so cute and such a shock to hear him plead with you so genuinely that a surprised laugh burst from your lips.

You couldn’t help yourself, you pushed yourself up and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s mouth. Maybe it was ridiculous or dumb, but you’d already forgiven Bucky. He’d made a mistake, had a moment of weakness, and you’d surprised him by coming home early. It wasn’t like he’d been trying to get caught, it had been an accident. Sort of.

Besides, it had led to the two of you getting together. You’d dreamed about Bucky for so long, fantasized about him in so much filthier situations than the one you’d found him in, that it only seemed right that he was just as much of a perv as you.

“I’m crazy about you, too,” you murmured when you pulled away, only far enough to speak. “I forgive you.”

Bucky heaved a sigh of relief and dragged you in for another kiss, showing you his remorse with every sweep of his tongue. You sank into the kiss, letting him win back your trust, knowing the two of you were going to use the awkward start to build something real.

You made out on your bed, your body keeping Bucky’s softening cock warm, until full dark had fallen. In between kisses, the two of you talked—about what came next (a proper date) and whether Bucky would keep the key you’d given him for catsitting (he would, after swearing never to use it without your permission).

Eventually, you climbed off Bucky and took a shower—alone, despite his offers to help clean you up. You still felt a bit grungy from your trip home, and you wanted to take your time. So Bucky grabbed a shower at his own place, and came back, knocking on your door with a bottle of wine in hand, when you texted him you were done.

Bucky ordered dinner while you opened the wine, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the ease with which you’d fallen into a kind of domestic routine. Part of the reason you’d had a crush on Bucky was that you genuinely enjoyed his company, and you were glad to see that hadn’t changed.

When you brought the glasses out to the living room, Alpine was curled up on Bucky’s lap and he was stroking her softly, asking if she might want a papa. You bit back a smile and told him teasingly that it might be a bit soon for such a conversation with your furball daughter.

Bucky took the glasses from your hands and set them on the table before pulling you down onto the couch beside him. He made sure not to jostle Alpine as he manhandled both you and your cat into a comfortable group snuggle, with her laying across your lap while you sat in Bucky’s.

You laughed at him, but you were secretly very pleased, unable to stop grinning since Bucky was making your dreams come true without even realizing it. You’d longed for someone to snuggle with you and Alpine, to love you both, and it seemed like Bucky might be that man.

For the rest of Valentine’s Day, you spent the holiday with your two favorite people in the world, Bucky and your cat, Alpine.

Despite your teasing, you hoped it was only a matter of time before Bucky became her papa and moved in, becoming the person you could come home to and who would shower you with the affection you deserved.

Your divorced neighbor, Bucky Barnes, may have been a bit of a mess, but he turned out to be exactly what you needed—the perfect partner to come home to, one who shared your kinks and was just as much of a perv as you. He was a good papa to Alpine, and was happy to build your family together.

It’s kind of a funny story how you got together—but it’s a story with a very happy ending.

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