#and then he brings her a beer and watches her sway to the beat as she stirs with the biggest most embarrassing heart eyes you've ever seen

[eusuntgratie]

if you’re up to it, huge if and no pressure at all, i think you could write a really sweet domestic scene for sarahbucky, maybe them making your favorite chili recipe or something

Sarah's stirring in the chili powder and trying to decide if she can get away with a little more cayenne when arms wrap around her middle and squeeze.

"Whatcha cookin'?" Bucky murmurs in her ear as he cranes his neck to peer over her shoulder and inhale.

"Chili," she answers, resisting the urge to order him out of her kitchen and relaxing into him a bit.

"I thought chili had chunks."

She turns, and shoves him out of her space, affronted. "Chunks?"

He raises his hands in his, "oh, shit, I've stepped in it," gesture. "Like, I don't know. Chunks of meat? Instead of hamburger?"

"Does this look like Texas to you?" she asks, waving her wooden spoon around for emphasis.

He laughs softly and moves slowly to gather her up again. "No, I guess not. Smells good."

"Course it does. It's me makin' it, right?"

"That's right," he answers and squeezes her close, pressing a kiss just under her ear before sliding out of her space to turn up the music.

[nhlclover]

𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: despite your differing personalities, you and quinn find yourselves drawn to each other. but you know what they say? opposites attract.

warnings: none :)

word count: 0.78k

Quinn leaned back on the club's sleek bar, the polished surface cool against his skin as he observed the chaotic dancefloor. The thumping bass reverberated through the room, syncing with the erratic flickering of the strobe lights.

Amidst the mass of dancers, his eyes were on one figure in particular. You stood out among the pulsating crowd, commanding attention effortlessly. Adorned in a shimmering mini-dress that caught the lights with every sway of your hips, you exuded a magnetic aura. Quinn’s eyes followed your graceful movements as you twirled around with one of your friends, laughter ringing out above the music. In the midst of the chaotic dance floor was where you seemed most in your element.

It wasn’t uncommon for your relationship to raise eyebrows. You had always been a glass-half-full kind of person and always carried an effervescent demeanor. Your positivity was a beacon, drawing people towards you like moths to a flame. Meanwhile, Quinn was on the quieter side, not necessarily grumpy but far from the ray of sunshine that you were. Compared to you, Quinn was the calm after the storm, a steadying force that balanced your whirlwind of energy.

As Quinn continued to watch your effortless moves, he marveled at the way you situated yourself in the mass of people, your smile never wavering and your movements staying fluid and confident. Moments like these reminded Quinn of how he was drawn to you in the first place. You brought a lightness to his life, a spark that he hadn't realized he was missing until you came along.

His brief daydream was interrupted by Maya, one of your friends, sidling up beside him. “Hey, Quinn,” she said, knocking the neck of her beer against his glass.

Quinn offered her a small smile. “Hey, Maya. Having a good time?”

She took a sip of her beer and leaned on the bar beside him, her eyes following his gaze to you. “Always,” she replied with a grin. “You know, I’ve never seen her this happy with anyone before. How are you two doing?”

Quinn's smile widened as he glanced back at Maya. "We're good," he said, his voice carrying a hint of pride. "She's amazing, you know that.”

Maya looked between the two of you, a small smile on her lips. “You guys are total opposites though, aren’t you?” she asked.

Quinn chuckled softly, glancing back at you as you continued to dance with abandon. “Yeah, you could say that. But somehow, it works.”

Maya nodded knowingly. “She brings you out of your shell.”

“Exactly,” Quinn replied with a nod. “Even when she doesn’t realize it.”

As if on cue, you bounded over, a radiant grin lighting up your face. “Quinn! Come dance with me!”

Quinn chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him at your presence. “I don’t know how to dance, y/n.”

Your eyes sparkled, shrugging your shoulders as you took hold of Quinn’s hand. “Well, it’s never too late to learn!”

Reluctantly, Quinn allowed himself to be pulled onto the dance floor. The music seemed louder there, the bass thrumming in his chest. You started moving immediately, your body swaying in time with the beat. Quinn tried to mimic your movements, feeling awkward and out of place.

You took notice and giggled. “Quinn, it wouldn’t kill you to move your body a little.”

You placed your hands on his hips, forcing them to move to the music, but his body seemed to fight you.

“It actually might,” Quinn replied, his eyes glancing around to see if people were watching.

You laughed again, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Just follow my lead.”

Quinn took a deep breath and tried to relax. He honestly didn’t know how you were just naturally full of energy and positivity. However, your energy was infectious, and soon he found himself moving more naturally, though still far from graceful. You teased him about his lack of rhythm, but your laughter was warm and encouraging.

“Baby, you’re doing great!” you said, your smile radiant. “See, I knew you could dance.”

Quinn felt his hesitation fall away as you continued to dance, your movements becoming synchronized as you lost yourselves in the music. Your friends cheered from the sidelines, Maya giving Quinn a thumbs up when she caught his eye.

A couple of songs later, you and Quinn headed off the dancefloor. You made your way to the table your friends had commandeered, Quinn pulling you into a tight embrace.

“You were right,” he murmured into your ear. “That was fun.”

“Told you so,” you replied, grinning up at him, eyes sparkling with the same energy that had captivated Quinn from the beginning.

[thefanficmonster]

Piss off your parents pt.2

PART 1

PART 3

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Turns out, LA is packing way more surprises than you were prepared for.

He's still nursing the same drink he started the night with. Not by choice - he just knows that he might make some serious mistake if he indulges in anything more or stronger. The beer is treating him well.

Then again, if he sees Nate and Y/N making out one more fucking time he might steer to the whiskey.

He feels like a terrible friend, unsure of who he's being more unfair toward of the two. He should be happy for them. Like Sam. He can't take a page from his book, though. He can't be openly supportive and encouraging of the blooming romance between his friends. The most he can do is plaster on a strained fake smile and try to enjoy his night, keeping himself away from them. If he can't be a proper friend, the least he can do is not let his displeasure - and borderline selfishness - swim up to the surface.

Although his features are definitely giving a clear glimpse into the warzone that is his mind. Hard glare, set jaw, gritted teeth, furrowed brows. If Sam wasn't already several rounds deep he'd probably pick up on it instantly.

Thing is, he already has picked up on it. The avoidance, the cold shoulder, short-spokenness. He's been picking up on the clues for months but dared not bring it up. In his head, it makes no sense. To him, it always seemed like Colby and Y/N were the rom-com waiting to happen. Stolen glances, gentle touches, subtle affection, their own love language. All trademark Colby-Y/N stuff. Where Nate came into the equation is unclear to him.

Truthfully, nothing is clear to him right now. Which is why Colby is currently helping him off the table he can't remember climbing onto.

"Come on, dude. You're gonna break something important." He says, steadying his best friend when he hops down too enthusiastically for someone in his state.

Sam slurs a response but is grinning from ear to ear so he can only assume he's enjoying himself enough to not mind Colby gentle-parenting him. But also enjoying himself too much to be trusted and left to his own devices.

Scoping out the hotel club with a quick glance, Colby's gaze thankfully finds Corey. Who it doesn't find is the main culprits responsible for his deteriorating mental state. Where's a shot of whiskey when you need it?

"Mind watching over him for a bit? Imma go get a drink." He yells over the music directly into Corey's ear, nodding to the inebriated blonde who's swaying to the beat of the music without a care in the word. Colby aspires to be him in an hour, the risks of it be damned.

Corey accepts the duty, earning himself a grateful pat on the back from Colby who disappears into the crowd the same instant. He's heading toward the bar, eyeing the bottles lining the wall behind it greedily. He's sees the amber liquids as a sea he's about to drown his worries in.

That is if he can shake them, though.

And, try as he might, he can't.

Surveying the venue a couple more times, he feels a sickening pit settle into his gut at the absence of his two best friends. He can't remember when he lost sight of them nor how, especially since his eyes were glued to her the whole night.

Others would be a lot less concerned with this predicament. I mean, when two people like each other veryyy much, have had several drinks throughout the night and have disappeared from the party, it's pretty clear where they might be and what they might be doing. But Colby doesn't even wanna let his train of thought travel that way. Neither his heart nor his liver can handle that.

But that's when he spots Nate with Sam and Corey. Yet still no Y/N in sight.

Colby decides this calls for a search party.

He checks each and every corner of the club with upmost diligence. She's wearing a little black dress that is for sure to help her blend into the blur of the party with the minimal lighting and packed crowd. It's not a problem for him though, he could spot her from a plane. Which makes his lack of findings all the more concerning.

He eventually takes his search outside the club and into the hotel lobby. Then out on the sidewalk, then in the parking lot. He has soon scoped out the entire perimeter around the hotel without finding a trace of her. He's all out of places to search and chock-full of sickening worry. It's as if she's disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Speaking of smoke...

As he's making his way back to the hotel entrance, he catches something out of the corner of his eye. A small plume of smoke emanating from the cracked open window of one of the club bathrooms. That's when the idea pops up in his head.

He never checked the ladies' room. For obvious reasons, of course.

But his rationality and reasonability were checked clear from his system ten minutes ago when his body entered full panic mode. So...

Still he tries to reason with himself: Play the drunk card. Just accidentally stumbled into the wrong bathroom, that's all. 'I'm not a creep I swear, I just mixed up the doors'. That could work, yeah....

And so, with a quicker pace to his step, he steps out of the humid LA air and into the chillier and more pleasant hotel lobby. He stops for a second under the cold AC breeze to take a breath. Collect himself.

What if it's not her? What then?

That depressing train of thought is interrupted by a slight ping coming from his back pocket. He nearly drops his phone he takes it out so damn fast. He'd sent Y/N a string of messages and even tried calling her a few times, all attempts with no success. Therefore, for a split second, he's hopeful that maybe she's finally replied.

Much to his dismay, it ends up being wishful thinking.

Much more to his dismay....

"Hello Cole. How is Y/N?"

...it's her mom.

It's been eight months since the incident, six since they moved to LA. In that time, Y/N's mom has come around approximately half an inch closer to tolerating him. Mostly because he's her only intel on her daughter since she's so adamant on being stubborn and not talking to her. And Colby is more than happy to be of service, he just wishes....

What exactly?

Wishes they could mend their bridges? Wishes he didn't have to lie on both his and Y/N's behalf? Wishes he didn't feel s fucking guilty?

Wishes it wasn't all a ruse?

Mrs. Y/L/N checks in once every couple of days, often with texts at odd hours like this. She has a lot of night shifts to handle at the hospital so, when she gets downtime is when she stops to reach out with a message to Colby - who she believes is her daughter's boyfriend, mind you - to ask about Y/N.

And he's always been instant with the replies. 2AM, 4AM, 7AM, you name it. Never once has he taken more than a couple minutes to reply. He can't remember sleeping more than two to three hours a night if any since they moved here. He'd blame it on the weather change. Then again, he knows better.

His correspondent noticed this too...

"Why are you never asleep? Is something wrong?" She'd asked him at one point, showing genuine concern which truly warmed his heart. And then broke it right afterwards when he remembered he can't tell her what's wrong. He wishes he could tell her for whatever reason. He has a feeling she'd understand, maybe even like him better because of it. But how could he tell her? The charade needs to be upkept, the show must go on, and he'll just...well, suffer, really.

With a quick confirmation of Y/N's well-being, he continues his venture back into the club, making a quick beeline for the dark hall leading to the bathrooms. And yes, he feels like a creep but no, he can't turn back now.

So, he pushes the door to the women's restroom open.

Thank the heavens, he thinks to himself. For two reasons.

Firstly, because it's a single stall bathroom.

Secondly, because on the sink counter outside the stall sits Y/N and suddenly he's getting deja vu.

Mascara is staining her cheeks, a cigarette is hanging between her lips, her hair is a mess. But she still gives him a smile when she sees him come in. "Hey." She greets him, voice barely above a whisper, "You're not supposed to be here."

Colby quickly locks the door behind him, approaching her with a newfound shake in his knees. Given her state, he's quick to assume the worst. "Jesus Y/N, what's wrong? Did something happen? Talk to me."

She shakes her head, a few more strands of her disheveled hair going awry, "Nothing happened, nothing's wrong. I'm just...having fun." She sounds bitter. Not sad, not angry. Just bitter, regretful almost.

For some reason he chucks up to human nature, he feels anger start boiling in that lingering pit in his gut, "Where have you been?"

She motions to the counter below her nonchalantly, slurring a little "Here" in response.

"Where'd you get that?" He asks, nodding at the cigarette between her fingers.

She laughs, whether drunkenly or genuinely he's unsure. "Some girl gave it to me when she heard me crying in the bathroom."

Alarms start goin off once again. She's unaware she's playing him and his sanity like a yo-yo with each spoken word, "Why the fuck were you crying? What happened?!"

Y/N finds the audacity to roll her eyes at him, "Nothing! For fuck's sake, Colby, nothing happened!"

"How can you say that and expect me to believe it? Look at yourself! You're a mess!" He tries subduing his anger but it's impossible. He doesn't know where it's stemming from. Maybe it's all that pent up adrenaline from twenty minutes ago coming loose. Maybe his worry is mixing with the relief and melting into frustration. Maybe he's taking out his bitterness - piled on for months, mind you - on her. Even though she doesn't deserve it. And he knows that.

She deserves the world.

He just doesn't deserve her. And he's yet to come to terms with that.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you." She sasses him, taking the last puff of her cigarette before tossing it out the window.

"You're mascara is running down your face, your hair is all over the place, your lipstick is smeared as fuck. There's a party going on out there but you prefer sitting on cold marble and smoking in a bathroom. You can't tell me there's nothing odd about that." He's losing it, he can feel his sanity slipping from his grip and he can't get a better grasp on it. All he can do is watch as it leaves him.

Y/N, in her usual fashion, is quick to clap back, "You're the odd one! You're fully sober at your own party, angry for whatever reason. You're standing here lecturing me instead of being out there having fun. Oh, and need I remind you, you're in the ladies' room."

He laughs humorlessly. Exhaustedly. "I haven't been on a wild goose chase the whole night for you to...."

"He doesn't want me."

Her words cut him off and cut him deep. The confusion is brief but the pieces fall into place almost immediately.

Nate

"There's no fucking way. You've been all over each other..." He stops himself when he realizes how upset he sounds recollecting all the instances he caught the two in their own world. The pit rattles, a sickening feeling climbing up his throat.

She scoffs, "Yeah, well that's all there is to it. It's all physical. And always prompted by alcohol." A long sigh escapes her lips, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm just disappointed I didn't notice it sooner."

Colby Brock, for once in his life, has been rendered speechless. But he's aware staying quiet isn't an option. So he makes a weak attempt at a consolation, "Y/N, I-"

"Did you know?" She thankfully cuts him off before he can continue word vomiting.

He quickly shakes his head, "No. I swear I didn't. I would've told you."

"Yeah, I know. I know you would've. I just don't know why he told you he liked me when you asked him..." She sighs, picking at the hem of her dress, thankfully oblivious to the sudden paleness of Colby's face.

The sickness gets worse as he remembers his huge mistake. A lie he told months ago.

Y/N had asked him to fight this one battle for her and he still didn't do it, for utterly selfish reasons. She'd asked him for something so simple - ask Nate about his feelings for her, if there were any. And what did he do? He kept his tongue behind his teeth and quietly hoped she'd forget about it. Such a foolish thing to expect from someone completely head over heels in love.

So, when she inevitably checked in to find out the response, he had to lie. Lie and give her false hope he didn't even know was false at the time. There was a devil on his shoulder telling him to tell her the complete opposite but he could never be that evil.

He'd rather drink and sleep his way into coping through it all than watch his best friend be brokenhearted.

In the end it seems he somehow swerved the situation into hitting both those nails on the head. And he completely and utterly hates himself for having done that to Y/N.

The least he can do is come clean.

"I never asked him."

Silence. Fucking crickets. They can hear each other's heartbeats. And he can't bring himself to look up at her, let alone meet her eyes.

It feels like forever before words are spoken between them. She's the one to break the silence with one simple word: "Why?"

He can't tell her why. He doesn't know why.

Actually, you know what, fuck that. He knows exactly why and that's the reason he can't tell her.

"I don't know." He feels like such a coward. But the consequences of the truth terrify him.

"Why did you lie to me?" She doesn't sound angry. He wishes she did. Because the hurt he can hear in her voice is far worse than any furious wrath she could unleash upon him.

"I don't know."

"Fuck that, Colby. You're my best friend, for fuck's sake. You're the last person I'd expect to lie to me and you-"

"You don't wanna know why, Y/N." His restraint is growing weaker. He regrets the words as soon as he says them. He's aware she most definitely not leave it alone now. They're both stubborn, so fucking stubborn. Mules, if you will. Legends say they still reference something they bickered about a decade ago today.

"Yes I fucking do, Colby."

"It could ruin a lot of things."

"It won't."

"I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't."

"You promise?" He feels horrible asking for a promise from her after having revealed the biggest lie he's ever told her.

Well, second biggest anyway.

But she doesn't second his opinion because her response comes out faster than a bullet, "I promise."

In this moment of honesty, raw and bare honesty, how could he lie? How can he look her in the eyes and not tell her the truth? How can he even look at her? He owes her that much but doesn't know if he has it in himself to do it.

Forcing himself to look up, Colby swears he can feel a sharp pain in his chest. Her eyes are dry of tears by now but the shine remains, accentuated further by the fluorescent lighting. He swears he can feel himself fall for her all over again, even deeper.

"Because I'm in love with you, Y/N."

The crickets are back. The silence is eating away at him. He can feel her slipping through his fingers. Their decade long friendship flashes before his eyes. It feels like he's saying goodbye. To the memories, to the friendship. To the love of his life that never was.

The weight of the realness knocks his head back down, his gaze fixated on the black tiles beneath his feet. Shame, pain, dread and fear are all battling for first place, causing a whirlwind in his brain that nearly knocks him off his balance.

It's astonishing how much it hurts losing something you new you didn't deserve all along.

Tagging: @benbarnesprettygurl @beanredacted

[swampstew]

What's the Magic Word?

Chapter 32: Eustass Kid's Wife

>,>

smut heavy

Rowena’s face was wet and sticky. And covered in icing.

Kid had grabbed a handful of cake and smeared it over the Witch’s face the second she stopped singing, transitioning to hiccups and sobbing from being overwhelmed. In a good way.

Squishing her face to his chest, “Happy birthday, ya big crybaby.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Rowena hiccupped. Squealing and pushing away from him when he started licking the frosting off her face.

She wasn’t sure who started popping bottles and sloshing beer in the air as the crew got riled up from the music flowing from the audio den den mushi. A lively party beat transformed everyone’s moods.

Practically starving, the Witch made a beeline for the tables and started devouring plates. Kid handed her water so she wouldn’t choke as he ate from his own plate.

Face cleaned and belly satisfied, Rowena tossed a damp hand towel to the bench and jumped between Dive, Gig, Jaguar and Bubblegum who were dancing wildly. Hands bobbing in the air, hips swaying side to side, merrily flouncing, it was as if all the tension and pain had left her entirely. Kid watched with a toothy grin before grabbing two tankards and cheered Killer for the last minute party set up.

“Thanks man. She really needed this.”

“Of course. Sounded like it was a rough trip.”

With a resigned sigh, Kid tugged his goggles down and swiped at his hair. “Yeah, it was more than I bargained for…” he took a long sip of his ale, “I need to tell you something. Let’s go.”

The Supernovas were not missed as they stepped into the shadows of the forest.

Wire had been feeding logs to the bonfire when Rowena made her way to his side. Grabbing his hand, she dropped a silk bag in his palm before sashaying away.

“Try those – they’re long lasting with a fun kick. Come dance with us!”

Throwing in a few more logs, Wire pulled out a few round pellets that smelled like charcoal. With a shrug, he tossed five into the bonfire. He dodged out of the way as the bonfire swelled with bursts of colored flames and sparks.

Cheering, the crew doubled down on dancing and drinking. Rowena wove between bodies dancing with no one and everyone. Her head felt light, her body felt loose as she twisted, shimmied, side-stepped, thrusted her hips and let the music guide her rhythm

Hands on and around her, feet stomping and jumping, screaming the lyrics of each song with the other, Rowena felt like she transcended to a new plane of reality. One where there was no such thing as destiny, or curses, or rivalries. Just dancing, good spirits, and better company.

A rainbow aura lit the sky, a place where music flowed between ears, underneath the skin, swirling around them like an invisible mist. Hearts pounding from exertion but not stopping they partied and sang.

The bonfire spat out colored fireballs into the air, exploding into sparks above them. They screeched and cheered as they got drunker, merrier, messier. Someone started a food fight, food and cake flying everywhere as the crew rejoiced.

One minute Rowena was in front of Quincy, then she was surrounded by Reck, House, Haikei, Emma, Pomp and Papas as they spurred her on as she danced in the middle of the unintentional circle they formed around her. Rowena reached out and grabbed Hip as she passed by, who in turn grabbed Hop and Heat, bringing them into the inner circle and they tried to drunkenly synchronize their movements.

Soon enough, the rousing voices from the whole crew called out Rowena’s name as she danced to a different beat then everyone else. She barely noticed, shaking and twirling with her hair following her motions. Savoring the night, full well knowing that there were harder days to come.

It wasn’t until they reached the cave mouth that Kid finally stopped walking. Killer waited for his Captain to let whatever was burdening him off his broad chest.

“Rowena…isn’t just who she is…” the red head started, “Like, she’s Ro’ my witch, but she’s also…so much more…”

“Are you love drunk right now or?”

Kid’s face look distressed, “No! I mean, kinda yeah but no! When we were in the Spirit World or Underworld or whatever you wanna call it – Rowena was able to speak with the members of her coven, from the past and everything. While she was doing her thing, her mom found me and pulled me aside.”

“She said Rowena’s family comes from a long line, back to the fuckin gods! Through this ancient lineage, she has two siblings! That she’s somehow supposed to awaken with at the right time – whatever that means because Hecate sure as fuck didn’t elaborate!”

Killer took his helmet off, not sure if the libations had gotten to him so quickly, “You’re saying our Witch is descended from the gods?”

“Literally the goddess of the motherfucking moon,” Kid finished, exasperated.

“Does Rowena know this?”

Kid let out a mocking laugh, “No, Hecate made me swear not to say anything! Said that if Rowena ever gets imprisoned by the enemy and they find out her lineage, she’ll be exploited to tip the world into darkness. If her godlike power awakens before she’s able to harness it, she’ll go fucking berserk! So I’m supposed to keep my trap shut and hope she finds her damn ‘siblings’ and fulfil this fuckin prophecy that was divined years before she was even born!”

Weight of the secret now off his shoulders, Kid slid down the side of the rocky wall to sit. Killer silently sat next to him, unsure of what to say. Both tankards were abandoned, the echoes of the party music reverberated through the island as the complexities of Rowena’s past confounded them.

After a few minutes, “Did her mother give you any other clues about the siblings? I thought Rowena was an only child,” Killer stopped drumming his thumbs on his helmet. “Any hints?”

“Just that they’re the descendants of the Sun and the Dawn.”

More silence.

“You married into one helluva family, Kid.”

Kid and Killer blended in the background as they rejoined the festivities, shocked but not surprised at the turn of celebration. Food littered the ground, there were strewn bottles across the yard, whoever wasn’t passed out on a table or patch of grass was still dancing in the dwindling crowd.

Rowena was in the middle, twirling so fast that it made Kid dizzy. A gap between dancer, Rowena’s eyes found Kid and she bolted from the middle and into his arms. Bubbly, drunk off her ass, and extremely happy. When Kid leaned down to kiss her, he was met with a face full of ruined cake that she silently summoned and smashed into his face as revenge from earlier.

“Oh you’re fucking done,” he threatened, throwing her over his shoulder.

“Noooooooo!! It’s my party, I’ll frost you if I wanna!!!” Rowena thumped his back with her fists playfully.

Killer waved them off as Kid stole the birthday gal for himself. Wanting nothing more than just her company and attention, not sharing her with anyone else. Knowing the crew would be dragging their asses between the ship and castle to clean and sleep, Kid took the path back to the mountain where the cave mouth stood, dark yet inviting.

It wasn’t particularly deep, stretching out perhaps a mile before the other end of the cavern wall separated the rocky wall, the edge of the island and the open ocean. The lagoon deep inside cave connected with the ocean through underground channels. Setting down beyond the water’s edge, Kid sat them down on a dusty blanket they had abandoned from their return trip to the surface world.

They could still hear the music, the Witch glided and pranced around the empty space while Kid watched her with amused eyes. It wasn’t long before she slowed to a shuffle, then laying on the cool earth.

At first Kid thought she had fallen asleep, thinking her fingers were splayed in the dirt because of animated dreaming. That was not the case. She kept shifting the dirt underneath her fingernails for a minute, stilling and not speaking for a full five minutes. By then the music had stopped all together, and his curiosity got the best of him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ve putting into practice what the Amaru taught me. I’m immersing myself with the earth, feeling the minerals and nutrients between my fingers as if they come from my own bones. Did you know that the soil is alive? I never realized fungi had such an expansive network.”

“Fungi?”

“Yeah mushrooms. They thrive in these conditions, I’ve never stopped to appreciate it before. They’re reaching out to me.”

She closed her eyes, laying her palms flat to the soil. They’re growing this way. You can sit on the blanket or you can stay here. I’d like for you to stay here.”

Kid looked uncertain.

“They want to connect with you,” Rowena whispered, lightly wiggling her fingers in the soil. “Lay with me.”

With a sigh, Kid took his shirt and war kilt off, setting them on the blanket before settling down next to the Witch. Before he was even properly comfortable, Rowena’s fingers intertwined with his as his body shifted closer to her.

They laid on the ground and while Kid couldn’t quite make out or understand exactly how the fungi was meant to ‘connect’ with him, he did see thin root tendrils sifting through the disturbed soil, creeping its way towards him. Rowena sensed his hesitance, holding him tighter.

“You don’t need to do anything. Just let them touch you.”

“Can you like, hear em or something?”

“No, I wouldn’t say hear them but…” she chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to articulate the process, “It’s like I can feel their energy. Right now, they’re excited and curious about you.”

“Why?”

“It’s just they’re nature. Fungi are made up of a mycelium network, they’re constantly growing and adapting to their environment. Even though they don’t have nerves or feelings, they have remarkably similar traits to having a nervous system. And they share information down the line too which is almost like a brain hive mind.”

Kid silently listened to Rowena speak, wondering if he would hear or feel anything. After a few minutes and he didn’t, he grew bored. The tendrils poked and ran under his skin but he didn’t actually feel it, probably wouldn’t have know it was happening unless Rowena told him it was. She had gone silent too, watching the cave ceiling as the roots grew around them.

When he couldn’t take the silence anymore, Kid activated his magnetism to fiddle with any parts laying around. Finding a few in his pockets, he let them hover over his head as he meticulously pieced things together into various shapes. Breaking it down, then making something new. It stimulated his brain when he felt lazy but wanted to be ‘productive.’

Rowena gasped and he nearly dropped the tiny cave bugs he built.

“What?”

“They’re…the fungi are like thrilled right now. I think its because of your power.”

“Huh, really?”

“Yeah keep doing it.”

Confused, Kid rebuilt the scraps into various tiny animals. Trying to ignore the intense gaze he was under from the Witch who had turned to watch him.

“Ooooohhh,” Rowena finally let out. “Kid, your magnetism field is helping them multiply rapidly. You’re,” she let out a breathless giggle, “You’re like an incubator for them. They really really like you.”

“Okay I’m no one’s breeding farm,” he growled, sitting up and pulling away from the tendrils.

“Aww you’ve made them so sad,” Rowena pouted at him. “I don’t think they can recognize or understand deities as humans do but they’re certainly praising you like one.” She sat up and gently pulled away from the mycelium network. There was a sparse trail of tiny mushroom caps that had grown around them.

“I don’t put out for just anyone,” he grumbled. Rowena didn’t let him finish his griping, nestling between his legs and resting her head on his chest.

Yearning burned in his gut, and he decided to do something about it.

Kid palmed the nape of Rowena’s neck as he kissed her tenderly. They lost themselves in each other, passionately kissing and slowly reclining to the ground. Laying on their sides, they kept kissing as his hand explored her curves like he’d never touched them before. Rowena was squirming and had a sheen of sweat on her skin by the time he rolled over her.

His metal arm abandoned on the blanket, Kid tangled his flesh fingers into her inky black hair, tugging at her roots lightly with each kiss. Dipping his tongue in her mouth, Rowena let out a moan as his wet muscle played with hers.

Her hands unfastened his pants eagerly, pushing the fabric and his boxers off his hips. The warm, hardening organ fell forward, grazing her belly. Rowena shuddered, pulling her dress off her body; breaking their kissing to throw the bundled material somewhere in the cave.

Kid let out a throaty chuckle, “Love the enthusiasm babe. However,” he trailed kisses down to her collarbone. “I want to fuck you nice and slow…” he voice faded as he trailed more kisses down her body, his flesh hand following him down her body, “Let me worship you.”

His caress lightly tickled her, but the Witch didn’t giggle. She merely sighed contently as Kid praised and touched her. Kissing her ankles, Kid yanked his pants off. As he lowered himself down, Rowena’s legs parted.

Slotting his body between them, Kid let out a hum with a soft smile on his face, his eyes smoldering with desire ignited a warmth in Rowena’s belly. He hovered over her body, caging her face as he pressed tender and warm kisses all over her face and lips. His lipstick long gone from pressing passionate kisses on every square inch of her skin; leaving behind only the barest smudge of red across her swollen lips.

He palmed her breast and she arched into him, eager for more stimulation. Her hips tried to meet his but he lifted himself and instead of nestling his cock between her labia, he trailed his pelvis up and down her torso as he rolled her nipples and sucked her skin between his teeth for light bites. A thin line of precum trailed from his tip, following his movements as he lightly traced his cock across her stomach, her breasts, her thighs.

Kid sat on his knees, lifting Rowena’s ass to sit on his inclined thighs. Her drooling pussy demanded relief, wetness running down her thighs and his, dripping down to the soil.

“Damn…” he bit his lip, teasing his near painful erection at her entrance. Feeling the way her pussy was trying to pull him in, “I will honor you til the day I die, I swear to the gods.”

Rowena let out a pleasured gasp as Kid pushed in, plunging his cock until he bottomed out. Pressing her body to his, he pistoned his hips making the Witch bounce with her legs dangling over his messy and creamy thighs.

“I’ll be so good to you, I swear it!” he groaned.

Laying Rowena on her back, Kid thrusted deep and slow, pulling back til his tip was nearly out and he could feel the chill of the air lulling him to slam back into her heat. She let out shrieks and cries, moaning unintelligible words as he kept going.

He wanted to prolong her pleasure but couldn’t help his bodily response to jump off the edge.

“I’m going to cum and then keep fucking you,” he growled.

He pulled out, rubbing his silk covered cock against Rowena’s puffy lips as hot spurts of semen shot over her torso. Ropes of translucent seed landed on her ribs and stomach. Before he finished ejaculating, he dipped back into her, stilling once he was sheathed entirely. Dragging his hand through his cum, he used it to lubricate his palm and vigorously rubbed her clit.

Rowena was panting, hair and neck damp with sweat, body twitching with every pass of Kid’s palm on her sensitive nub. He grinded deep in her, heightening her pleasure internally and externally. Her walls squeezed his cock, fluttering doubling as she came undone.

Letting out a high-pitched wail, Rowena gushed against Kid’s hand while clamping down on his girth. Kid let out a throaty gasp as her walls contracted around him. He kept his pace of slow rolling his hips as she rode her orgasm out. Dragging his cock against her gummy walls had him shooting another load as soon as he emerged, splattering against her breasts to trickle down her chest.

Not done, his hips thrusted aimlessly as he sputtered. Drops spilled on Rowena’s vulva and ran down her hips, also staining the ground as he pressed his groin so deeply into hers that his testicles could feel the searing hot pull of her cunt.

He gently pressed his balls against her creamy center and stifled her whimpers with sloppy kisses.

“If I could be balls deep in you, I would,” he grunted. “I’ll settle for this,” he left her embrace to grab his discarded pants. Pulling out a toy.

“I made this for ahm, a fantasy I had. I wanna use it this way now,” he dragged the silicon covered dildo across her skin, gliding it through the sticky remains of his seed to get the tip wet. “It’s equipped to ejaculate too with fake cum – or real if you want me to fill it beforehand - just needs to be triggered, and the only way to set it on or off is with my power,” he grinned salaciously.

Rubbing the device against her clit, Rowena let out a whimper, “One day, I’ll have mastered my magic to the point where I can replicate copies of you so you can run on train on me.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” Kid groaned, sinking into her core once more. Her heat washed over him before he started moving. As he thrusted shallowly, he pushed in the hand crafted dildo to fill Rowena with both cocks. It was a tight fit, made better when she shuddered and squirmed on him.

With a snap of his fingers, the toy turned on. Her body seized and trembled as he let the toy work her up, he licked and sucked her breasts clean, tugging at her nipples with his teeth.

Rowena’s ecstatic crying built up into stringy screams as Kid fucked her brains out. The slick slapping sound of their hips meeting echoed in the cave the faster they went. They cried out as they came together, cum, cream, and lubricant oozing out from where they joined. He pulled the toy out and tossed it to the blanket, the low buzzing vibration ignored as it twitched in its spot.

Fluids leaked readily from Rowena’s pussy with just Kid’s cock keeping her stuffed. They lay exhausted on the floor, panting and speechless as they caught their breaths. Kid nuzzled his face in the crook of Rowena’s neck while she ran her nails against his scalp. Peppering his forehead with gentle kisses.

“You remember what your Supreme said, about the couples with matching energy?” he nearly whispered the words.

“About the Yanantin?”

Kid nodded, looking at Rowena with a remarkably innocent curiosity in his eyes, “Yeah. Do you think we’re there yet?”

“Aww,” Rowena caressed his face tenderly, “They say that when two people truly become Yanantin, it’s the ultimate trust bond, so deeply connected that they can enter each other’s dreams. Only when a couple complements each other so perfectly that they can transcend beyond the natural world and still find each other through space and time because their energies are brought together in beautiful harmony.”

“I remember having dreams of you that felt real,” he mumbled.

“I do too. At first I just thought they were really good sex dreams. I felt like it was something more when I realized that maybe I wasn’t the only one plagued by lust filled nights. One day I sat in the crow and I saw you bring your bed sheets to the wash and dry machines. They haven’t happened since so I didn’t give it much thought.”

“What, like our energies were probing each other or something?”

“Oh they were more than probing each other,” she laughed, “I suspect that we were reaching out to each other subconsciously. It could be that we’re on the cusp. Yanantin is usually followed up with Masintin, and at that point a couple is officially ‘paired.’ Typically procreation is the next stage for the term to come to fruition. Literally.”

“Tch,” he huffed. “I would if you’d let me,” he complained, not entirely seriously. “So you’re saying there’s a chance that we could bond like that in the future?”

“I am,” she brushed her nose to his forehead. “I felt it the day we got married, like I got anchored to you for the rest of my life and I wouldn’t change that for anything in this world.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me,” Kid chuckled, pulling out and wiping their bodies with his shirt.

“That’s hilarious coming from the guy asking if we’re soulmates,” Rowena teased back. She was about to make another remark when she slowly spun around in place, “Holy shit, look.”

Taking notice of their surroundings, Kid noticed that the dirt had erupted with hundreds of tiny mushroom caps.

“Jesus everyone’s having babies but us,” he griped. Pulling her dress over her head, Kid gathered their belongings, ready to head back to their castle.

Stepping on an empty patch of dirt where no fungi had yet spawned, he carried Rowena in his arm as they walked along the deep cave pool. His eyes glanced over the water for no real reason, stopping in his step when he realized something was watching him back.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, turning fully to get a closer look. Something long, sleek with protruding jaws floated near the surface. Whatever the creature was, it dove below the dark depths out of sight.

Rowena hummed in question at him.

“I…I feel like I saw that thing before…”

“What thing?”

Shaking his head, Kid walked towards the cave entrance, “When we were down under…”

“You’d be surprised by how creatures that live in abysmal environments look like they’d come from the underworld, but I assure you it’s probably harmless.”

“Mhhmm,” he responded, not convinced but not willing to argue about it. The sounds of crickets chirping accompanied their walk. About halfway to the base, Kid slowed his step as he got lost in his thoughts.

“Kid?” Rowena squishing his cheeks together brought him back.

Taking steadying breaths, he held her tightly as he let his walls down.

“You’re the bravest person I know. Everything that’s happened to you, meeting me, shit learning all we did about your coven…” he pressed his forehead to hers, “You’ve willingly, and sometimes unwillingly, shared everything you’ve been through with us. With me. I’ve never let myself be vulnerable before but you make me want to spill my guts out. It’s time I’ve told you about some of the darkest shit that still plague my nightmares,” his voice was strained, eyes glassy in the moonlight. Rowena wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this before, its always been painful to remember much less talk about,” he continued, “I named my ship after a close friend Killer and I lost. She would have loved you, Ro’…”

Read on AO3

[patowrd]

dando fic snippet pt. 5 😳 (one day soon i'll actually post the first third of this fic - i promise - but for now have a dando club scene)

Of course it’s Carlos’ idea to go clubbing.

Everyone’s here, even Max, and everyone seems keen on getting absolutely fucking hammered. Daniel can’t remember if he has anything planned for tomorrow, so he orders a gin and tonic, specifying “double” as the bartender nods.

“Feeling brave, are we Danny?” Max asks. He's nursing a pint, an orange slice floating languidly in his glass.

“Feeling like I’ve got nothing to lose mate,” he shouts over the house groove. He brings the glass to his lips and swallows, inhaling through his teeth as the alcohol scrapes its way down his throat. He loves this feeling, the bitter bite of the tonic lingering on his tongue. It fades to soft sweetness as he turns to the bartender, ordering another before he even leaves the bar. 

He's aiming to get drunk enough to silence the nagging worry in his brain. Lando and Carlos have found their way onto the dance floor, and Daniel can’t help but stare at Carlos’ hands, which smooth down the faux-satin fabric of a girl’s slip as they sway, wordless. There's something enticing about the rhythm they’ve found, the breathless buzz of a couple of beers and two endorphin-seeking hearts. Daniel can’t remember the last time he’s felt that rush, the novelty of an unknown body pressed against him close as he loses himself in sensation, in pure feeling. He hasn’t had time lately, at least that’s what he’s told himself, that between standing behind the bar and smoking at the back door he’s had no break long enough to taste a stranger’s gin-soaked lips. He finds the need growing in him though, a need which crests as Carlos grips her waist, one hand firm as the other gently cradles the small of her back.

He pretends the bartender’s eyebrow doesn’t raise when he orders his third drink.

The table Daniel finds (as far away from Carlos as he can manage, so that the ache he feels when he watches can subside), is covered in a film of spilled drinks and cigarette ash. He sits alone and stares at the ice melting in his glass, wondering whether he’d better order a fourth or just head home and call it a day. Maybe this isn’t him anymore, he thinks, maybe he’s too far gone to go back to partying, to be the kind of person who, easy as breathing, can find someone to share a dance floor with. He downs the drink and inhales sharp, and he’s a second away from standing up when someone smacks him across the shoulder and sits in the booth opposite him.

“Danny!” Lando says, something strong and sweet on his breath. and then, in mock sadness, “Man you’re all alone out here.”

Daniel laughs, pretending the remark doesn’t sting something deep within his heartstrings, “Ah, and you’re drunk”

“You’re not?” he asks, eyes gliding over Daniel’s now empty glass.

“Nah, not yet buddy”

“Well we’ve gotta work on that” Lando says, matter of fact, a playful smirk on his lips, “Don’t wanna leave our guest all by himself to sulk.”

There's a beat where Daniel says nothing, his eyes fixed on Lando’s own, which stare back, unwavering. The smirk doesn’t fade, and Daniel notices how it spreads to Lando's eyes, how he stares back like a trickster, taunting, teasing.

A sharp inhale as he looks away, “So, you’re a bit of a dick, hm?”

Lando giggles, taking a sip of his drink and fiddling with the straw, “Only when I don’t know you”

“Planning to get to know me?

“Not before another drink” and it’s then that Daniel notices the concoction in Lando's glass, a dark red and orange liquid swirling and swishing as Lando twirls the straw around.

“God, what are you even drinking?”

Lando's eyebrows rise as he blushes, a smile (bashful now, Daniel thinks, fascinatingly bashful) drawing itself across his features. He takes a sip and pretends to really be evaluating it, his inexperience showing as he replies “Dunno really.” a further sip, where he swishes it around in his mouth like he’s at a wine tasting, an impression which has Daniel doubled over laughing, unsure if Lando's really that funny or if the three g&ts have finally had their effect.

When he swallows, Lando wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, lips turning a plush red as he adds, “I just let Carlos order for me usually.”

Daniel swipes the tear away from his eye, trying not to look too much like a smitten schoolgirl finally talking to her crush, “God i’ve got to teach you about actually good drinks some time,” his smile is honest here, bright and luminous, “Honestly i’ll bartend at the villa, free of charge.”

And Lando only laughs at the offer, his head thrown back and eyes screwed shut.

Daniel thinks that, at least as far as he can remember, he’s never seen a boy quite this beautiful.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Birthday After

It’s finally time for Faroe’s tiny party. Per her request, not many people are here.

As long as she keeps dancing, Hastur will arrange as large or small a party as she wants.

Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

——

Hastur wondered how many more times he would get to see Faroe dance.

He knew humans developed a detrimental sense of self-awareness in puberty. He’d done everything he could to prevent that for her, to keep her from being exposed to the idea of embarrassment of self. Still, he knew this kind of dancing would eventually disappear forever. He watched, and enjoyed her ebullient expression, and mourned what was not yet lost as Arthur played on.

Parker sat against the wall, foot tapping to the beat, a plate in one hand. It held the richest, fudgiest chocolate cake these cooks could produce, and had been a more than adequate bribe to get him (or, rather, Sunny) here. This was a relief, as Faroe had been fretting about Parker’s appearance at her party for the last week, and luckily both Parker and his passenger seemed fond enough of her to make it work. Parker tilted his head, listening to the low voice of Sunny commenting on the scene, and laughed. “You call that jitterbugging, English?”

“Ha!” Arthur shouted back. “I’ll get you dancing yet!”

Dis smirked and shook her head. She wasn’t doing much and wouldn’t stay long, but had been invited by Faroe as well, and was being bribed with both Faroe’s delight and a drink made of Lomarian vodka, lime, and ginger beer. Whatever worked. Hastur would happily ply her with drinks all night for Faroe’s sake.

“Dad!” Faroe demanded, and Hastur joined her. 

It was never an embarrassment to bring his daughter happiness. He knew how to move to make her laugh, a demented sort of off-sync undulation, and he did so now. 

It still worked. “Dad!” she protested, dissolving into giggles.

John outright laughed at him, evidently not finding him nearly as enchanting as the audience had back in Kh’pohma when he’d won the hearts of all who watched. 

Well, John had no taste. Just for that, Hastur made it sillier.

At least John had agreed to attend with only minor persuasion. Between Arthur’s misery and Faroe's disappointment, John very well could have ruined this birthday. Thankfully, everyone seemed willing to put aside their differences for Faroe (and they had better). His precious daughter, whose smiles healed broken hearts and wore down the highest walls. She’d rule them all someday.

Until then, she was a child, and birthdays really mattered (even when she pretended they didn’t).

Faroe grabbed two of his tentacles and turned it into a spin, so he caught her up and twirled fast enough to earn her squeal.

Ludicrous! John pronounced, which got Arthur laughing, which got Parker laughing, which made Dis crack a smile.

Faroe was curled into him now, hiding a little from the shadows of things that wanted to intrude on this moment. Hastur wouldn’t let them; he slowed to a gentle sway, holding her close. 

He wondered if he’d be allowed to celebrate her last one. Well… his last. Her fifteenth. 

He’d beg. Fuck it. When that time came…

Arthur switched it up again. “This is rag-time!” he said, and John joined him, and they produced wild music Hastur couldn’t quite believe—it wasn’t jazz, and it wasn’t orchestral, and it made the piano sound like an entirely different instrument.

It was fun. Faroe giggled, wriggled to be let down, and she danced.

#

The humans (his humans, his family) talked quietly or danced or tapped their feet. Everyone was relaxed. John hadn’t yelled. Even Sunny had spoken loudly enough to be heard twice. So far, so good. And then Nibbles slid up to Hastur.

Nibbles, he hadn’t anticipated. Normally, she would be leaping and kicking and dancing on the floor with the same exuberance as Faroe. Instead she waited, watching the scene with about three-quarters of her eyes; the rest were focused on him.

“My duties demand an audience, King,” Nibbles said to him in perfectly clear speech, her voice low and soft.

“I fucking knew it,” Hastur muttered.

Nibbles pinned her ears and glared at him.

One of his tentacles idly traced a sigil on the ground, dampening the sound of their voices, keeping their words safe from the ears of their people. “Faroe has recited your sage advice for a long while now,” he said. “I merely found it amusing you thought you could keep it hidden from me.”

“I had naught to say to you, charlatan,” Nibbles said, letting out a huff. “Mine Faroe was our only tie, and you earned my ire with thine cruel trick played upon me. But… thy sacrifice is acknowledged. Thine suffering felt, as it echoes in her soul.”

Hastur said nothing. His tentacles curled, like a full-body fist-clench.

Faroe finally got Parker to join her, and now, it got wild. Parker showed off; Faroe giggled and copied him; Arthur and John spurred them both on. Sunny added direction, voice gleeful as he asked for spins, twirls, lifts; Parker laughed, and Sunny laughed, and Faroe laughed.

Parker. The man could dance. Who knew?

“I wish for no more suffering,” Nibbles said quietly. “And so I speak, now. Too late, perhaps, but better than silence. On mine rounds, I discovered spies; more than normal for mine Faroe. But before me I discovered spies for the Arthur, and the Larson.”

Hastur was very, very carefully neutral in his body language, even as his voice dropped. “What?” 

“Two small and pathetic things worried at Arthur's wards; your spells remain strong, though harried. I crushed them betwixt my teeth. But Larson…” Nibbles stamped her hoof. “A vile little worm attempted infiltration. It did not succeed. But the Larson and the Parker shall need more protection. They are added to my rounds.”

Hastur took a deep, measured breath. He’d expected such curiosity eventually, but now? So soon? Why? “How long have you known? Why are you only telling me now ?”

“You were absent when I’d search for thee in the night’s embrace, and I dare not leave Faroe’s side while thine enemies worry at our door,” Nibbles said. “I dare not worry her further with this knowledge. It is… It is not a burden for her yoke.” She bowed her head. “She claims so much, all of it undeserved. Mine love is not enough.”

“It will have to be.” That came out unplanned, and Hastur decided not to correct it. The goat was ready to be responsible? Then he would not presume stupidity. She clearly knew what was coming. “I don’t have to tell you the level of power it would take to so casually ignore my wards. Security will be provided.”

“Not ignored; harried. Drops of water against a stone wall, each insignificant alone, but a deluge…” She let out another sigh. “It is well-done.”

Hastur sighed. “And I’ll give you a spell so you can communicate with me at will. I won’t… be here for some time, at night.”

“It is well-done.” She looked at him, appraising, and Hastur realized that might be the first look of respect she had ever given him.

“Blue moon,” Arthur suddenly crooned (and Parker cracked up, bending over enough to smack his thigh). “You saw me standing alone / without a dream in my heart / without a love of my own.”

“Sap,” said Parker, still chuckling. 

Faroe laughed, too, though she didn’t know why. “What?”

“Your dad’s a goofball,” said Parker, and Faroe giggled again. “That’s the sappiest, silliest song.”

“I made money selling songs like that, I’ll have you know,” said Arthur, grinning.

“Pfft. S’better here. You got the good tunes now.”

Arthur’s tiny smile was naked and true. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. It’s good stuff. This, I’d actually listen to.”

“Hey, kid, I’m about out of time,” Dis said quietly.

“Oh! Not yet. You promised,” said Faroe sternly.

“Sure did. Just communicating. So if you’re gonna do it…”

“Is everything all right?” said Arthur.

Faroe looked pale. Her hands trembled for a moment; then she raised her chin, defiant. “Yes. It’s time for you to listen.”

Arthur looked spooked.

Dis snorted. “To something she wrote. Calm down.”

The wonder on Arthur’s face took years off him. “Really?”

“Wrote?” said Parker.

Faroe was rummaging in the gilded trunk in the corner, and finally stood with her lap harp. “It’s called, ‘When at Night I Go To Sleep,’ and it’s about you, Arthur.”

Oh. Oh. This would be… “Really?” said Arthur, his voice high.

“Huh. You write, too?” said Parker, crossing his arms the way he did when he found something interesting.

Faroe went pink. “Not like Arthur, of course.”

“Well, yeah, I’d assumed you’d write like you,” said Parker.

Her eyes went huge. Then she smiled like the sun, checking her harp’s tuning with an ease that spoke of practice and skill. “Yes. Like me. Well, and Engelbert Humperdinck.” And she began to play.

A simple song in common time, it was haunting, sweet, and sung with conviction. It started out similarly to the song Arthur had sung to her for years, taken from an opera about two children alone in the woods. Then, it diverged.

“When at night I go to sleep, And bad dreams upon me creep,  First, my friend is guarding;  My heart safe between her hooves.

On my right, my father,  Praised high in Carcosa!  On my left, my Arthur sweet  Weeps with me, sat by my feet.

So the song of calming’s sung, Precious in the gloaming,  Bringing peace to long nights wrung,  Silences disarming.”

She went into a little harp improv, playing with her chord structure, filling in the gaps. When she finished, hands poised, her fingers started shaking again, and she looked up.

Arthur slid off the piano bench to his knees and took her into his arms. She nearly dropped her harp.

Parker rescued it, placing it gently on the ground.

“My girl,” whispered Arthur, barely audible against her shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

“It wasn’t that good,” whispered Faroe, holding and being held, closing her eyes, her cheek on his head. 

“I loved it.” 

It… it was beautiful, Faroe.

“It was short,” she said, her cheeks now going red.

“Worth it,” said Dis. “Glad I stuck around for it.”

“You’re going already?” Faroe whined.

“Got to, kid. See you later.”

“Bye! Thanks for coming!” Faroe waved, cheek still on Arthur’s head.

Hastur exhaled slowly. “Would you like your lokma now?”

“Yes, please!” she said, wriggling in her seat. 

With a flourish, Hastur produced a tray loaded with small, fried balls of dough, covered in honey—and placed it in front of her, but not alone.

Faroe stared at her gift. “A bow?”

“This one has my power in it,” said Hastur. “You could hang from it for days and it would never break unless you willed it to.”

She slid her hand along its curve, staring. “It’s beautiful. What wood is this?”

“Claret. I found it sold by a Trader in the Dreamlands.”

She took it up. “You… when you were looking for me?”

“Yes, my darling.”

She sniffled, obviously smart enough to understand he was thinking of her even in the middle of madness. “What do all these symbols mean?” Faroe said, wiping her cheeks.

“Protection. Aid when called for, should it be found. And as I said, it will never break—unless you will it to.”

“Daddy, thank you.” The wood was so smooth, polished, dark as tuba sounds; even the runes were gentle, edges carefully rounded. The thing was a delight to touch.

Arthur had half a dozen lokma before the sugar got to him, and he went back to the piano to play. Parker seemed to like the things; Sunny teased him about it even while demanding more, and Faroe laughed.

Hastur wrote it all on his heart, every syllable, every look, every hint of a smile. He watched his daughter grow, and tried not to think about minutes slipping away, time together ever shrinking. He tried not to think about what came next, to focus on here and now. 

He failed.

[ink-perfect]

“care to dance, princess?”

─ about: animanga/live action sanji ⋆. fem!reader, fluff, 2nd person ⋆. established friends, mutual pining, tension, fem pet names, dancing on the deck 🥹, flustered sanjiiiiiiiii!!!! ─ synopsis: you, nami and sanji are gathered for a drink (or five) on the deck, watching as the sun sets. as nami suddenly leaves, however, the once-calm evening takes a more intense turn for the two of you that remain...

as the thousand sunny floats across the waves, gently rocking you side to side, you nudge periodically into your two neighbours: nami and sanji. the three of you are gathered on one side of a table littered with empty beer bottles, watching the sun slowly melt into the end of the ocean and paint the sky brilliant hues of pink, orange and blue. it’s a beautifully tranquil moment, but drunken giggles break the atmosphere each time you and nami make contact.

when it happens with sanji, however, the mood shifts again. your body tenses, and the laughter dies, replaced by an awkward stillness. usually, it’s easy between you two, but tonight, something feels different. the warm glow of candlelight flickers across his face, and the alcohol seems to thicken the air between you, making each accidental brush of your arm against his feel weightier, charged with an unspoken tension that lingers longer than it should.

nami seems to sense this too, and you can almost see the gears turning in her head as she glances between you and sanji. her expression softens into a knowing smile as she starts to rise, unsteadily swaying on her feet. “long day tomorrow… gotta find the best… charting pens… and whatnot… at the island markets,” she slurs, the smirk playing on her lips showing how painstakingly obvious her lie is. before either of you can even think to call her out, she’s already skipping away, her steps clumsy and uneven from the alcohol. this makes sanji laugh, although your frames of mind aren’t any clearer. 

a heavy silence fills the air for a few beats, sending rapid boosts of adrenaline through the both of you, making you feel more sober than ever all of a sudden. without warning, sanji turns to fully face you - this unexpected shift makes a shiver shoot up your spine, equal parts nervousness and excitement. he studies you for a moment, eyes darting across your face, before finally meeting your eyes once more.

“care to dance, princess?”

the question makes you laugh out loud - not because of the request itself, but because of the way it’s delivered: the refined english, the pet name, his extended hand - it’s all so sanji. it’s then that you realise how much his presence brings you comfort. the playful banter, the random flirting that once seemed so casual, now feels like an anchor, something that puts you at ease, holding you to a bay of warmth and familiarity.

sanji doesn’t immediately catch on to the innocent reason behind your laughter, however. his eyes fall, uncertainty flickering across his face. he’s never felt like this before - unsure of his words. the cook, usually a master of smooth lines and endless charm with any woman in sight, has been second-guessing himself lately, especially around you.

it started the moment he realised he liked you for more than just your beauty. the depth of that feeling unsettled him, how naturally you’d taken root in his thoughts. suddenly, his usual flirtatious comments and dramatic proclamations seemed hollow compared to the connection he shared with you. over time, the other women who once caught his eye faded into the background, their allure paling next to the warmth you brought him. he had stopped chasing fantasies, focusing instead on the real moments he had with you. 

as your laughter fades and you catch sight of his expression, you reach out and take his hand, squeezing it softly in reassurance. the slight upward curve of your lips, the sparkle in your eyes - these things tell him what he needs to know. he’s fine.

“i’m laughing because you’re such a dork, sanji,” you explain, the softness in your laughter steadying his racing heart. “but yes, i would love to dance with you.”

his grin returns, brighter than before, and with a smooth twirl of his wrist, he pulls you gently to your feet. you don’t know how he's organised it, but music begins to play. your right hand finds his left, while his other arm slips around your waist, locking the two of you into an incredibly close position. you and sanji begin to sway, smiling like fools as you try to figure out footwork and coordination. once you find a steady rhythm, the atmosphere shifts once more - this time, into something even more exhilarating.

“you’re not so bad at this, buster.” you tease, your voice cracking with nervousness as you pull him closer.

sanji raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “not so bad? love, you won’t find a dancer better than me anywhere across the seven seas,” he declares, his voice oozing with confidence. the teasing glint in his eye only makes you laugh harder, the tension between you softening as he leans into his familiar charm, effortlessly pulling you into his world with that signature bravado.

you give him an exaggerated nod as a response, feigning agreement, but a part of you knows that there is truth in his proclamation. his firm hand on the small of your back, his focused yet still flirtatious look, the way he leads you with him across the deck - he really is skilled. 

so much so that the world outside of this moment ceases to exist. as you look into his eyes, the cook's heart beats wildly: not because of a passing crush or a whimsical flirtation for once. it's because he’s dancing with you - someone who’s become so much more than a fleeting fancy. the moment is the most intimate feeling he’s ever had, and his cheeks feel like molten lava. it is insane to him that his hands are on you right now, not only because he has craved your touch, but because he can feel how real you are. from where his arm is perched, your heartbeat drums into his palm, sending warmth coursing through his veins with every thump. he’s with you, and to him that is a blessing.

as the song draws to a close, sanji pulls you even closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you know,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “this is the best dance i've ever had.”

you tilt your head slightly, catching his gaze. the intensity in his eyes, the way they hold yours with such depth, tells you more than words ever could. you smile, a soft, genuine smile that reaches your eyes. “i’d have to agree. it’s perfect.”

the music fades, but neither of you makes a move to break the embrace. instead, you remain in that shared space, savouring the closeness and the unspoken promise of what could be. as the last notes of the song drift away, sanji takes a deep breath, his fingers gently grazing up and down your back.

with a soft, contented sigh, he leans in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “then let’s make more of these moments, yeah?”

your heart swells, and you nod, wanting nothing more. “i’d love that.”

and so, as the thousand sunny continues to sail under the starry sky, you and sanji stand together, holding each other. every glance and smile exchanged says what words can’t: that something between the two of you has shifted for good, and you are so ready for whatever it entails.

── ౨ৎ masterlist

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

 Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 

James. 

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 

At the worst possible moment. 

“What do we have here?” 

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 

“Finally, huh?” 

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 

Fuck him. 

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 

“What the-” 

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—” 

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 

“Suck.” 

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 

“Daddy, I-” 

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 

“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 

Baby. 

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 

Our girl. 

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 

“Please, call me Bucky.” 

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 

So why did it feel so wrong? 

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 

“You have no idea.” 

[ghostselena]

Deja Vu

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: Months after your break up with Jj, you find each other at the bonfire party, reminiscing what it could've been

Warnings: reader getting very drunk, just fluff, 18+

Word Count: 1.4K

BYR: Slightly edited

Do not post this story as your own anywhere, thank you. ENJOY!

Part 2

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Dragged by your friends, you throw your head back as you groan, your legs moving at a different speed, sand getting all over your sandals as you reached the keg table

Today marked 4 months since you and JJ ended things, you haven't gone out much ever since, appearing at a few parties here and there. It was still a fresh wound for you, the thought of seeing him here macking on some other girl infuriated you. Nonetheless, here you are, at the yearly bonfire, all dressed up and ready to get wasted

"You need to go out more, we miss you," Sarah says, handing you a red cup filled to the rim with alcohol, at least you hoped it was

“The streets miss you, y/n,” Kie says teasingly, a big grin on her face while opening the small ice cooler, grabbing a can of beer, pressing it to your chest, “Drink this instead, who knows what shit is inside that keg,”

Holding the small can, you notice Sarah slowly spit back into her drink, sticking her tongue out in disgust, throwing the cup onto the trash can nearby and grabbing a beer from the cooler before turning around to face the two of you, “You could’ve said that before I drank half my cup,”

“What’s the fun in that?” Kie smirks, earning a chuckle from you while you looked around, seeing a few familiar faces, your eyes slowly focusing on a certain blonde-haired boy, walking right next to John b and Pope

You shift your legs uncomfortably, opening the can and chugging it back quickly, a few droplets falling down your chin and into your chest

“Hello ladies,” you hear John b speak, finishing the can before wiping your mouth, fixing your attire while you felt someone’s eyes on you

“Hey there handsome, what brings you by?” Sarah says, wrapping her arms around him, standing on her tippy toes, pressing her lips against his. Your turn your head away as you focus on a random group of girls, who were struggling to keep their friend still as she drunkenly swayed side to side, cup in hand, "Just wanted to say hi to my girl,"

You laugh to yourself as you watch the group of friends, turning back to face Pope, his hand waving at you as you do the same, big smile on his face

Deciding to grab yourself another drink, you excused yourself, heading back towards the cooler, beer can in hand as you opened it once again, choosing to drink it slower this time

The feeling of someone's eyes on you never went away throughout the night, even while you danced with your friends, hands brushing down your body as you swayed your hips to the beat of the music, it was all a blur

You could say you were a bit tipsy, maybe even close to being drunk at this point while you stumbled your way back towards the Keg table, cup in your hand as you poured the liquid into it, Kie's words about the multiple alcohol mixes that were in the Keg long gone in your thoughts.

Pressing the cup to your lips contently, you drank back the liquid with a repulsed look on your face, giggling to yourself before turning back to pour a bit more into the cup, a hand quickly taking the cup from you and throwing it behind them

"What the hell?" you pout, your words coming out slurred, your eyes looking up to meet a pair of blue eyes that you still loved so much

"I think you've had enough to drink y/n, don't ya think?" His voice was soft as he got closer to you, hands placed on your sides to keep you balanced in front of him

In his mind, you were still dating. It was just a small break he thought, there was no way he was letting you go that easily.

"Leave me alone," you spoke, pressing your hands against his chest, eyes on his as he held your hands in his, refusing to leave you alone in your state

He pulled you gently as he walked towards your friends, tapping John b's shoulder, "Let me borrow the keys?"

Your friends were almost, if not, just as drunk as you as the boys held them, nothing but laughter leaving their lips as they danced against each other, stumbling all over the place.

John B just nodded, handing him the keys, observing the way you learned your head on Jj's shoulder, mumbling to yourself, hands wrapped tightly around his waist

He leaned down, wrapping his arm under you before picking you up bridal style, your body betraying you for wrapping your arms around his neck, head laying close to his neck as he walked away from the bonfire, reaching the twinkie and opening the passenger seat with one hand, careful to put sit you inside the car, sliding the seatbelt onto your body with ease. Just as he was about to close the door, he feels a tug against his shirt, your soft hand gripping it before talking

"I wanna party,"

"Not while you're this drunk."

"Why?" You whine, head leaning back against the seat, a pout clear on your face, making him smile and shake his head down at you before speaking,

"Just let me take care of you,"

"no."

"Dont be so stubborn y/n, your parents would kill me if they let me leave you like this,"

"So? you're not my boyfriend."

"Doesn't matter" He mumbles, more to himself as he closed the passenger door, quickly jogging to the other side before getting in, turning on the car, and sliding on his seatbelt.

You felt yourself getting hot, a rush of heat making its way through your body, making you groan, "Jj, I'm hot."

He couldn't even respond in time, your hands already struggling to take off your shirt, huffing in annoyance once you realized you couldn't do it yourself, crossing your arms and facing the window

"You okay?" "No. Leave me alone."

"Suit yourself, princess," He responds, backing up and driving off towards the cut, no way in hell was he dropping you off at your house looking like this, none of you would come out of that house alive.

Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he sang quietly, your eyes turn to face him as you watched, a frown forming on your face as you thought about the other times he would take care of you when you'd get this drunk, the memory still fresh in your mind.

"Why did we not work out?" you ask softly, looking down at your hands, deciding to avoid his gaze as soon as he looked at you, clearing his throat, "You needed space, I was in the way,"

"But you weren't"

"I was, you said so yourself,"

"I did?" You questioned, sitting up slightly, your mind running in circles as the memory flies back to you, he just nods his head in response

"Yup."

The ride back to the chateau was silent, both of you focused on remembering your relationship, nothing but a recollection on the back of your minds.

Jj parked the van, making sure to help you get out, hand sliding around your waist while you walked up the small porch stairs

He opened the door, guiding you inside and towards the kitchen, handing you a cold glass of water, which you drank without argument, clearly needing to think this through

He made sure to give you your space, legs crossed in front of each other as he laid on the couch, arms crossed behind his head as he watched you recollect your thoughts, slowly sobering up

"I'm sorry," you spoke up, leaning on the counter while you faced him, "I guess I was just so mad that day, I pushed it all on you."

He shook his head, brushing his hair with his hands," All in the past now,"

You nod, drinking the rest of the water and deciding to sit near him, crossing your legs

"I saw you were uncomfortable when Sarah kissed John B,"

You sneered at his words, "I was not," a small smile forming on your face

"I'm very certain you were,"

"Fine."

"Fine" he mocks vivaciously, earning a glare from you," Made me think about us though," his serious tone startled you, your eyes surveying his calm response

"Me too" you sincerely say, swallowing the small lump that was forming in your throat, "Do you think we could ever be together, again?"

"It's possible..but only when we are ready."

"Yeah"

Both of you stayed there, the thought of forever losing him hurt you to the core, but it didn't mean this was the end. He was scared of getting hurt again, but you were his everything, you just needed time and so did he.

-----

I did not want to give this a sad ending, I had this story going different in my mind but I couldn't do this to you guys, maybe a part 2 in the future if asked :)

[judeswhore]

hey pretty boy - mason mount

in which mason gets a little bold during a night out

warnings: swearing, suggestive language

You can feel his eyes on you from his place at the bar of the club you and a couple of friends have decided to spend the night in. His bottom lip is clamped between his teeth as he watches you dance with your best friend, hands in your hair, sweat glistening on your throat and collarbones. His gaze keeps travelling from your stained red mouth, down to the low cut v of your dress that shows the perfect amount of boob and then down to your exposed thighs before flitting back up again, the process repeating itself a few more times.

Mason knows he's completely ignoring the conversation happening right beside him but he really can't bring himself to care when he's got the perfect view of that pretty smile you're throwing at the people around you and the slow way you keep moving your hips to the music. He's been waiting for you to approach him for the past twenty minutes, knowing you were guaranteed to be thirsty by now, your feet aching in the black heels you'd convinced him you just had to wear. So why aren't you making your move?

"You're drooling y'know, Mase." Declan's voice pulls him from his thoughts of what better ways the two of you could be spending your time together, ways that include fewer clothing and a lot less people. He turns his attention to his best friend, noticing the smirk on his face.

"What? I can't appreciate how hot my girlfriend looks?"

"You aren't appreciating her, you're practically eye fucking her and she isn't even acknowledging you." Declan seems to find this highly amusing but Mason knows you better. He's clocked the way you subtly tug at the bottom of your dress, thighs discreetly squeezing together. Your body can sense his gaze. Even from this far away he can see the glazed over look in your eyes, eyes that are jumping around every inch of the club except the the space he's occupying, a dead giveaway that you're well aware of the looks he's sending you.

"She's teasing." Mason mumbles, turning back to the bar, leaning his elbows on it.

"The guys around her look like they're having fun." Declan settles beside his friend and Mason's eyes once again cut back to your figure, taking note of the few men watching the way you dance. When he glances back to your face he catches you already looking at him, your eyes quickly darting away when you realise you've been caught, body turning further towards your friends. Mason's smirk is beyond cocky, tongue pushing into his cheek in an effort to stamp it down, appreciating the fact you've just given him the perfect view of your arse.

"She's putting on quite the show." Mason spends the next ten minutes watching you try to avoid his eyes but he can see your resolve crumbling. You're leaning forward and laughing at something your friends saying before you're nodding, eyes finally lifting to meet your boyfriends. He feels his heart thump wildly in his chest, watching you lift your hands over your head, hips swaying softly to the beat. He wants nothing more than to make his way over to you, press his hands beneath your dress and tease you the way you've been doing to him all night.

Mason watches as you turn away from him again, hands swiping your hair over one shoulder before they’re moving down your body, skimming your waist and hips. He sees the way a few men have started edging closer to you, eyes glued to the curves only he gets to touch. His last thread of control snaps and he picks up his bottle of beer, lifting himself up from the bar stool. He nods his head towards your still turned body.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” Declan just nods, making his way over to the rest of your friends in the right hand corner of the club whilst Mason’s feet carry him towards you. He slides up behind you, free hand snaking around your waist, draping across your stomach so he can pull your body closer.

Mason feels you react to him immediately, body relaxing into his, head falling back to rest against his chest while one hand rests atop the one on your stomach, the other moving to grip his opposite arm. Mason nuzzles his nose into the side of your face, grinning at the shiver you fail to hold back.

“Hi, angel.”

“Hey, pretty boy.” Mason grins at the term of endearment, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His chest is flush against your back and he can still feel you moving against him, your bum pressing into him in places he can’t think about in a room full of people. He hears your friend mumble something about going to the toilet and then the two of you are left alone, Mason’s grip on you tightening.

He watches the few men who had been leering at you, slowly move away and feels a streak of triumph at the fact that he’s the one who gets to take you home tonight. He’s the one who gets to see you without the dress and heels but now that he thinks about it he might just be tempted to make you keep the heels on.

“You having a good night?” He asks, raising the bottle to his lips and taking a swig, passing it to you afterwards, momentarily mesmerised by the way your lips wrap around the top. You nod while passing it back.

“The best. Uni free life is the best life.”

“Preach it, sister.” You’re giggling softly and Mason is nuzzling into you again, trying his hardest to keep his dirty thoughts at bay but your subtle grinding isn’t helping.

“Where’d Dec go?”

“To see everyone else. Must have been sick of seeing me stare at your arse.” You playfully jab your elbow into his stomach. “You do look incredible tonight.” His mouth is on your neck and you’re convinced if it weren’t for his arm around you, your knees would have buckled by now.

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Smell amazing too.”

“I smell like I always do, baby.”

“Hmm exactly. It’s my favourite scent in the world.” Mason’s grinning into your shoulder, eyes shifting from where he’d been looking down at your boobs to gaze at the side of your face.

“You’re my favourite person in the world.” You’re grinning teasingly at him.

“What? Even above Ronaldo?”

“Does Rondaldo have a body like yours?”

“I don’t know, he might have.” Mason puffs out a laugh, the breath stirring the loose hairs at your temple and ticking against your flushed skin.

“You’re definitely above Ronaldo.”

“Good.” You’re humming happily, fingers reaching for Mason’s bottle but he’s pulling it back, revelling in the small pout you send him, eyebrows drawing together. “Baby.” You whine quietly, starting to turn around in his arms but Mason’s fingers on your jaw have you halting.

He moves to gently cup your throat, the applied pressure practically none existent as he tilts your head back, eyes meeting his as you stare at him upside down. He feels you swallow against his hand and the almost familiar position has his body tingling while he leans you back against his chest.

His thumb taps against your cheek. “Open for me,” You do as you’re told, mouth dropping open, tongue peaking out like you’re used to. Mason has to breath out through his nose to try and gain some sort of composure, bringing the bottle to your mouth and pouring the liquid inside. Your eyes never leave his the whole time, flashing excitedly at him as your entire body sets on fire at the light squeeze against your neck. “Good girl.”

Mason pulls the bottle back, feeling you swallow once again before closing your mouth, his thumb swiping along your lip to gather any runaway liquid. He releases your throat and you turn in his arms just as he’s sucking his thumb into his own mouth, his gaze locked on yours.

You push yourself up onto your tip toes, your added height from your heels still not bringing you up to Mason’s level, and press your lips to his, tasting the alcohol of the night on his tongue.

“I really wanna go home now.” Your words are rushed and breathless and Mason practically swallows them as he nods his head, both of you already fantasying about what’s going to happen once you’re away from prying eyes.

[doubleleoenergy]

Cool for the Summer

Even if they judge, fuck it, I'll do the time. I just wanna have some fun with you.

Pairing: parentsbestfriend!Steve Rogers x fem!reader x parentsbestfriend!Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, use of pet names (princess), mommy kink, daddy kink, mentions of alcohol, y/n is 18, slight size kink, threesome.

Words: 2700 (I’m so sorry, I got carried away)

Summary: One pair of drunken kisses turned to much more. Now at the biggest pool party, y/n is ready for a hot girl summer.

Notes: This is my submission for @agentofbarnes​‘s The Agency’s Writing Challenge. I chose to write for dadsbestfriends/momsbestfriend au, secret relationship, and Steve Rogers + Natasha Romanoff. This is the type of sandwich I’d love to be between. I apologize for being such a whore with this.

“Y/N, can you please grab the two bags of ice from the ice chest in the garage? We need to fill up the other coolers before we add the drinks.”

“Yes mom!” Y/N cried out to her mother, tossing a large flamingo floatie into their pool before heading towards the garage. It was their annual Summer pool party, the biggest party of the season for y/n’s parents. Her parents invited all their friends and family, including everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Y/N’s mother and father were both agents with S.H.I.E.L.D. and had been working with the Avengers team closely for years. She remembered visiting the tower when she was nine, a picture of her visit still hanging proudly in her bedroom. It had been years since she personally went to visit, but many of the team members visited her parents often. 

That included her super-secret lovers Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. 

It happened by complete chance last July. Her parents were on a mission for three weeks, leaving y/n alone to take care of their two dogs and to watch over the house. Of course, her parents were nervous to leave their eighteen-year-old daughter home alone for that long, asking many of their colleagues to stop in occasionally to check in on her. The Friday of their second week gone, y/n had gotten wine drunk, having snuck a bottle of her parents' expensive chardonnay from their wine cellar.

She was halfway through the bottle when they came, Steve and Natasha. They found her dancing to some pop song in the living room, her right hand holding up the bottle of wine to her lips. Steve and Natasha had grabbed the bottle from her hand, but not before she kissed them both; Steve first for a rough kiss and Nat last for a soft one.

Y/N didn’t remember anything the next day, but Steve and Nat showed up again to remind her. About 30 minutes after they had explained what happened the night before Y/N ended up with Nat’s head between her thighs and Steve’s cock in her mouth.

They had spent the next week before her parents came home together. Then afterwards, Steve and Nat told y/n that they had to keep what they had a secret, that no one would understand. They had all hung out a few times before y/n went off to college and then a few times during her college years when she was home on break.

The last time y/n saw Nat and Steve was during her Spring Break, two months ago, and she couldn’t wait to see them at the party. She had worn her skimpiest pink striped bikini for the occasion, ready to show off her hot-girl-summer body.

Y/N lifted one bag of ice on each shoulder, carrying it into the backyard and starting to fill the coolers while her father packed them with an assortment of beer, seltzers, soda, and water. “Honey, are you excited to see everyone now that you’re back from summer break?” Her father asked, wiping a few beads of sweat off his brow.

“Yeah, some more than others.” She muttered, shrugging her shoulders. After fixing up the coolers with her father, y/n helped her parents set out the snacks, decorate the backyard, and bring out the large speakers to play music.

It was already one o’clock when guests started to arrive, parking along their circle drive as well as up and down their street. Y/N was instructed by her father to wait by the back gate and greet the guests as they came in, giving each guest a cheap lei that her mom had ordered from Party City. 

Guest after guest, dozens of lei’s later, she spotted them. Nat and Steve drove together, of course, and they looked as striking as always. Nat was dressed in a blood red string bikini top, her cutoff shorts hanging off her hips as she walked. Steve looked incredibly toned in a white t-shirt that clung to his muscles, a pair of red board shorts hugging his thighs to match Nat’s bikini top.

Y/N’s eyes met both their gazes, her figure standing up straighter to accentuate her breasts. Nat and Steve’s eyes trailed up and down her body, Steve’s cock stirring in his shorts.

“Aloha Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff.” She purred; her voice sickly sweet like candy.

“It’s nice to see you again, y/n.” Steve mentioned casually, a large grin spreading across his features. The pair bent forward to receive their lei’s, y/n’s fingers trailing a little longer on each of their neck’s, her nails sending shivers down their spines.

“There’s plenty of drinks and food, and the pool is perfectly chilled. I might take a dip myself.” Y/N gave them a seductive wink before gesturing them in the gate so that she could continue to greet the guests.

Two hours in and the pool party was raging. Y/N’s parents mingled about with the guests, hopping from group to group. As the party continued, Steve and Nat’s eyes followed y/n as she spoke with guests, handed out drinks, and refilled the snacks on the picnic table. They watched the way her ass bounced in her bikini bottoms, how her hips swayed to the music as she danced with a group of friends, and the way her body looked soaking wet as she stepped out of the pool.

She knew what she was doing, trying to rile them up so they’d crack during the party. There were so many guests, what were the chances of anyone even noticing them if they went missing for a while? Y/N needed Steve and Natasha, bad, and she was willing to do whatever it took to get them.

Her body was still dripping wet from the pool, her hair caressing her face. She sauntered across the backyard to one of the coolers, digging her nimble fingers under the ice until she found what she was looking for. Pulling off the wrapper she revealed a red, white, and blue bomb pop, how fitting. Y/N met Steve’s gaze, sashaying her hips back and forth as she stalked towards them.

“Hi Captain, enjoying the view?” She questioned, tilting her head to look up at him. He had about a foot or more on her, making her crane her neck to meet his ocean blue eyes.

“I know I have. What about you, Nat?” He tilted his head to the left, eyes landing on Natasha.

“Definitely. What’cha got there, pretty girl?”

“Just a bomb pop. It’s so hot out, I needed to cool off.” Her lips finally meet the popsicle, engulfing the tip and swirling her tongue around it, a devilish look flashing in her eyes. Natasha clenches her thighs together, thinking of how good it would feel to have the woman’s lips between them.

Y/N teases the popsicle against her lips, pushing it deeper until she gags lightly, her gaze locked with Steve’s own as she does. The same noise she usually made around his cock, he almost pushed her to her knees right then and there. She pulled the popsicle out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the tip.

“You sure you don’t want some?” That was the last straw for Natasha, pulling the stick out of y/n’s hands before tossing the popsicle into the grass beside them. Natasha leans in close, her breath tickling y/n’s ear.

“Go to your room and wait on the bed. Now.” She commanded, pulling away from y/n and changing her expression as to not draw any attention to the throuple. Y/N nodded her head, her own expression flashing with excitement as she moved across the lawn and headed inside her home.

Her bedroom was up on the second floor, away from all the chaos downstairs. Only a few of the guests lingered inside, walking in and out of the first-floor bathroom, some leaning against the kitchen counter in conversation.

Y/N slipped silently up the steps, tiptoeing to her bedroom and shutting the door behind her. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, stealing a quick glance at herself in the mirror. Her hair was slightly wild from her dip in the pool, her body glistening with a mix of sweat and pool water. Y/N walked over to the bed, her head resting against a pillow, her legs bent and open, waiting for her lovers to arrive.

Steve and Natasha made their way into the house ten minutes later, conversing politely with the few guests who still lingered inside, waiting until they walked out towards the rest of the attendees before making their way up the wooden staircase. Steve is the first to make it to the door, opening it and smiling at the sight of y/n splayed out before them.

“My my, princess. You sure know how to rile us both up. Couldn’t even behave until the end of the party you’re that desperate?” Steve tosses his shirt to the floor after Nat shuts and locks the door behind them, the redhead following suit as she started to undress as well.

“She just loves to tease, but she’ll pay for it now.” Nat stalked over to the bed, getting on her knees beside the edge and gesturing y/n with her fingers to join her. Steve stepped out of his board shorts last, his thick cock bouncing against his chest as he moved over to where Natasha was kneeling beside the bed, y/n getting on her knees beside her, still dressed in her bikini.

“Nat, baby, how about you help our princess undress while she keeps her mouth busy on my cock.” He commanded, stroking his length in his right hand. Natasha nodded her head, moving behind y/n and pulling at the string of her bikini top, letting it unravel and slide forward off her chest. 

Steve stepped forward, his cock slapping gently against y/n’s cheek. “Go on princess.” Y/N swallows thickly, the size of his cock always surprising her, no matter how many times she saw it. Her hand reached up to stroke his length, her tongue swirling around the tip, eliciting a groan from Steve’s lips.

Natasha busied herself by reaching over y/n’s back to knead and pinch at her perky breasts, y/n’s eyes fluttering shut as she took Steve’s cock into her mouth, her hand moving down to fondle with his balls. She bobbed her head back and forth, grinding her still clothed core against her carpet.

“Aw Steve look, our princess is getting needy.” Nat took a fistful of y/n’s hair into her hand, ripping her off Steve’s cock and tilting her back to make eye contact with her. “You know what to do, a pretty princess like you has to ask for what she wants.”

Y/N whined, bucking her hips up to draw attention to her bikini bottoms. “Please mommy, please touch my pussy.”

Nat hummed in response, releasing her hand from y/n’s hair, pushing her in the direction towards Steve’s cock once again. Y/N wastes no time, opening her mouth and looking up at Steve, her long eyelashes batting coyly. “Daddy, will you fuck my mouth while mommy plays with my pussy?” She asked sweetly.

Steve almost came immediately from her statement, his thumb sweeping lovingly across her lips before his hand moved to grip at her hair, looping it around his hand to lock her in place before sliding her mouth forward and back onto his cock.

Steve started to fuck her face slowly while Natasha moved her hand down to undo the strings of y/n’s bottoms, pulling them out from underneath her before she tossed them across the room. Her hands caress y/n’s hips as Steve moves in and out of her mouth, faster this time. Y/N’s saliva dripped from her mouth and onto the carpet as Natasha snaked her hand down to y/n’s folds, her fingers immediately covered in her slick.

Nat dipped one of her perfectly manicured fingers into her heat, y/n humming around Steve’s cock in response. She continued to work her finger in and out before adding another finger, Natasha’s lips trailing wet kisses down her neck.

“So wet, princess. You want your daddy to fuck your tight cunt?” Nat purred, adding a third finger into her soaking hole. Y/N couldn’t answer, her mouth stuffed full of Steve’s cock, her nose touching his pelvic bone. He held her down, y/n sputtering as tears welled in her eyes, watching her face turn red before he pulled her off abruptly, her body collapsing back against Natasha’s.

Y/N gasped for air, her saliva dripping from her mouth down her chin and bare breasts. Natasha’s fingers sped up inside y/n, her orgasm building fast. “Mommy, may I cum please?” She mewled, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

“Yes princess, cum now. Daddy’s waiting to fuck you.” Her orgasm ripped through her, her walls tightening around Natasha’s fingers as she fucked her through the pleasure. Slowly, her breathing slowed down again, and Natasha removed her fingers from her core. Nat opened her pouty lips, licking y/n’s slick off her fingers happily. “You taste so good, our pretty girl. Now I want you to get on the bed on all fours for daddy.”

Y/N followed the instructions, crawling up onto the bed and getting on her hands and knees, arching her back and sticking up her plump ass. Steve’s hand was soft against her ass cheek, fondling it in his hand as he rubbed his cock against her folds with his other hand. He braced one hand against her back, sliding his cock in slowly, savoring the feeling of her tight cunt swallowing him.

“Always so tight, princess. The prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. Isn’t that right, mommy?” Steve moved his cock slowly back out of her pussy before slamming in fast, causing y/n to fall forward as she cried out in pleasure.

“It is the prettiest.” Nat agreed, moving onto the bed until her thighs opened, her pussy on full display. She scooted her body until her thighs were on either side of y/n’s head, gripping her chin and pulling her head up to look at her. “Put that pretty mouth to use and make mommy cum.” She instructed, y/n’s tongue sticking out to lick a strip up to Natasha’s clit.

Natasha rested her weight on her elbows, watching y/n swirl her tongue around her clit, moaning at the sight. Steve continued to fuck into y/n, pushing her face deeper into Natasha’s pussy. His cock rocked fast into her, y/n humming with her face against Nat’s cunt.

“That’s it, princess. Let daddy fuck you into mommy’s pussy. You keep that up and you’re going to make me cum on your pretty tongue.” Natasha’s eyes met Steve. “You look so good daddy, so hot when you’re fucking our princess.”

Steve’s breathing was ragged, his hips slapping rapidly against y/n. “Cum on her tongue, mommy. Give our princess your sweet nectar.” Natasha bucked her pussy against her face, hitting her orgasm as y/n licked up all of Nat’s juices that flowed from her. Y/N continued to lap at Natasha, working her through her orgasm as she came on Steve’s cock, her walls clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, make a mess on daddy’s cock. Gonna fill this pussy up princess, you deserve it for how happy you made mommy.” Steve thrust twice more before his hips stilled against her ass, groaning as he coated her walls with his cum. He stayed glued to her, pressing soft kisses to her spine as he relaxed his body, finally pulling out of her. His cock was wet with y/n’s cum, her pussy dripping their mixed cum onto the sheets.

“Did so good princess, let’s let mommy clean this up.” On cue, Natasha moved to take Steve’s place behind her, licking at her cunt to indulge in their mixed juices. Y/N’s body relaxed into the bed, letting Natasha clean her up.

Eventually, Natasha finished licking, pulling off to collapse next to y/n, her body spent as well from their escapades. Steve moved beside y/n, laying his head back against the pillow. 

“My beautiful girls, I love you both so much. Best pool party I’ve ever attended.”

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Madripoor

Requested by: MEEE cause this plot popped into my head the second I watched this episode

Summary: Bucky was just following Sharon’s advice to enjoy the party when he meets *yn*, what he isn’t counting on is that he most definitely won’t be staying out of trouble.

Warnings: THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EP 3 SPOILERS YOU’VE BEEN WARNEDDDDD, fluff, swearing, violence

PART TWO (NAGEL)

--------------------------

“Lay low, blend in. Enjoy the party.” Sharon spoke as she made her way up the stairs. “Oh and try to stay out of trouble, I’ll see what I can find.” 

“Trouble?” Zemo smirked. 

--------

Sharon’s words echoed in Bucky’s ears as he made his way through the party. Sweaty bodies were pressed up against him as he ducked and weaved through the crowd. It felt like the pulsating music was drumming against his skull as he made his way up to the bar.

“I’m way too old for this.” He huffed out once he reached Sam, gesturing to the bartender for two shots.

“Old or lame? There’s a big difference.” Sam remarked as the pair simultaneously clinked their glasses together and skulled the liquid. Bucky smirked as he watched Sam cough and splutter.

“Now who’s the lame one?” Bucky chuckled, the liquid burning his throat.

“Maybe we both are. Look at Zemo, the dude may be weird but he’s got game.” Sam answered once he’d recovered. 

Bucky followed his gaze to see Zemo dancing in between two women, both giggling and chatting animately. He watched as Zemo suddenly began pumping his arm enthusiastically to the beat as the girls watched him wide eyed, before exchanging glancing and slipping back into the crowd without another word.

“On second thought dude’s just weird.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he leant forward and grabbed the beer that the bartender had left out for him. He took a swig as he turned back around to face the party. He automatically swept over area, his eyes sliding over the hundreds of faces as he looked out for any threat.

He paused as his eyes fell on a flash of bright red material. 

Upon closer inspection he noted that the bright red material was in fact a silk dress that was covering the slender figure of a young woman. It was a halter dress that had a deep slit down the front and was almost completely backless, the silk material falling down almost to her ankles with another deep slit also running up her leg that exposed her thigh. 

He felt his grip on his beer tighten as his eyes fell on her face, revealing a pair of eyes framed by thick lashes and lips painted with a deep plum lipstick. She was snaking her way through the crowd, gracefully dodging drunken people as they stumbled their way around on the dance floor. 

As if she sensed his gaze her eyes flickered up and locked with his. The pair eyed each other for a few moments. She shot him a small smile before breaking their gaze.

“Now who would you be checking out hm?” Sam’s voice broke Bucky out of his almost trance like state. 

“No one.” Bucky answered gruffly, glancing over at Sam to see him smirking at him. 

“Sure Buck.”

Bucky ignored him and turned his head back to where the woman had been only moments ago. She was gone. He scanned the crowd and let out a small huff when he couldn’t see any sight of her. 

“Now, I need you to educate me on this art so I can impress some of the ladies.” Sam spoke up again, dragging Bucky’s attention from the crowd.

“What’s that one?” He asked pointing at a nearby painting.

“That’s the Wedding at Cana, painted by Paolo Veronese in 1563.”

“1562 actually.”

Bucky swivelled around, a breath catching in his throat when his eyes fell on the bright red dress. He had no idea how she’d managed to somehow appear beside him without him noticing. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair as he composed himself before answering, ensuring his face stayed void of emotion.

“I’m pretty sure it’s 1563 actually.”

His answer made her brow quirk up in amusement as she took a sip of her drink, her wrist twinkling due to a very expensive looking diamond bracelet dangling from it.

“Actually I think you’ll find it’s 1562. The copy in the Louvre might say 1563 but I suggest you take a peak at the original.” Her words made his eyes narrow as he studied her features. 

“Well maybe I will.” 

“Before you do that please feel free to continue educating your friend, I’m happy to sit here and correct you when you make another mistake.” She spoke, shooting him an overly warm smile which caused Bucky to grit his teeth. 

Sam let out a low whistle as the smirk on her lips widened. “Damn Buck I think you might’ve met someone more cultured than you.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Bucky muttered, taking a swig of his beer as he eyed her. 

“So how does someone like yourself become so knowledgable about stolen art?” Sam asked her, his eyes darting between the pair in amusement.

The girl shrugged as she took another sip of her drink before motioning to the bartender. “I know a lot about a lot of things.” 

“Really?” Bucky mused, this time it being his turn to raise a brow. “And does ‘miss knower of all things’ have a name?” 

“Miss knower of all things does.” She answered as she grabbed the shot glass and pressed it to her lips. Bucky eyed her profile intently, noting the way her plump lips wrapped around the lip of the glass and her eyes screwed shut as she slung her head back to let the liquid slide down her throat. 

“I love this song.” She remarked, finishing the remainder of her other drink before she rose from her seat. Bucky’s eyes followed her figure as she begun to make her way back to the dance floor. She paused and glanced over her shoulder, a smirk still present on her lips.

“You coming to dance with me or what Buck?” She queried, Sam’s nickname for him rolling off her tongue, amusement evident in her tone.

Bucky eyed her for a few moments before glancing over at Sam. “Sharon did say to enjoy the party.” Sam grinned.

“Try not to be too lame or old huh?” He continued, patting his shoulder encouragingly as Bucky rose from his chair. 

“Thanks.” Bucky muttered as he cautiously approached the woman in red. Her smirk widened as he made his way towards her. “C’mon.” He heard her say as she leant forward and took his gloved hand in hers and tugged him into the crowd.

If she was saying anything to him, he couldn’t hear as he felt himself become engulfed in the crowd as she pulled him deeper into the dance floor. After a few moments she came to a stop and swivelled around to face him. He felt himself grow slightly red as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, swaying her hips to the beat.

“Are you really not going to tell me your name?” Bucky spoke, practically shouting to make himself heard over the thumping base.

“Why do you want to know? You never danced with a stranger before?” She answered back.

“No I just- I usually know people’s names before I dance with them.” He replied which caused her to let out a small laugh. “Back in my day we used to go out to dinner first.” He added silently in his head. 

His heart thumped against his chest as she pulled him closer to her and leant up so her lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “My name’s *yn*.” 

“*yn*.” Bucky echoed, her smile widening at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. “And what brings you to a place like Madripoor?” 

“You ask a lot of questions.” She observed matter-of-factly.  

Before Bucky could open his mouth to respond, *yn* twisted around, keeping one arm slung around his neck as she pressed her back up against his body. Bucky bit his lip to prevent a hiss from escaping his mouth as *yn* began to rotate her hips to the rhythm of the music, the fabric of her dress pressing against the material of his black suit pants.

This certainly beat online dating.

“Just relax, enjoy the party.” *yn* laughed breathlessly, echoing Sam’s words from before as she pressed even harder against him. Bucky let his eyes flutter shut as he felt his hands automatically move to grip her hips as he started to move his own body in time with the thumping bass. 

His grip on her hips tightened as she lolled her head back against his chest, her hot breath fanning onto his neck as the pair moved in sync. 

If only Steve could see him now.

As he grew more comfortable he let his gloved hands begin to wander, trailing over her lower stomach before gliding down her thighs. “What do you say we go find somewhere quieter to talk?” He heard *yn* murmur into his ear. 

He felt *yn*’s body stiffen as his hands crept lower to just below her panty line. Before he could answer, her hand suddenly shot out to grip his wrist and cease his movements but not before his hand suddenly brushed over an unexpected bump on her leg. 

A shape that felt suspiciously like a-

A hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder causing him to jerk his hands away in surprise just as *yn* pulled away from his grasp. “I’m sorry to break up the party but Sharon’s found our guy-” Sam cut himself off as Bucky swivelled around to stare at him, his eyes wide in surprise.

“You good man?” Sam asked, concern written on his features when he noticed Bucky’s look of surprise.

“I-” Bucky cut himself off before looking back to *yn*.

His brow furrowed as his eyes instead fell on a drunk man currently sculling a beer out of a shoe. He frantically looked around, muttering a curse under his breath when he realised *yn* was no where to be seen. 

It was like she had vanished without a trace.

“Oh painting girl pulled a runner? Don’t worry about it man happens to the best of us.” Sam comforted, patting his shoulder once more. 

Bucky felt a ripple of suspicion wash over him but he decided against telling Sam about it as he finally pulled his gaze away from the crowd to look at Sam. “Let’s get Zemo. We should talk somewhere private.”

--------------------

“Alright what have you found?” Sam asked. Zemo, Bucky, Sharon and Sam were all piled into a private coat room located directly above the party. The bass was still so loud that Bucky could feel the vibrations through the tiled floor. The door was locked with a few security guards located outside and on the stairs leading up to the room. 

Bucky sighed, his mind swimming with thoughts of *yn* as he ripped his gloves off. He couldn’t shake a feeling of suspicious that was gnawing at him that there was something off about *yn*.

“I’ve spoken to a few buyers and I’ve got a location on Doctor Nagel.” Sharon spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “He was pretty hard to track down but he’s definitely still here in Madripoor. He’s at the shipping yard.”

Bucky stiffened when he swore he head a thump outside the door, a thump that didn’t correlate with the sound from the party. He strained his ears and sure enough, another thump followed suit a few minutes lately. 

“Bucky?”

“You sure no one can get up here?” Bucky queried, looking over to Sharon. 

“I’m sure. This is a restricted area, I’ve got all the entrances guarded.” She answered, watching him as he made his way to the door.

“Bucky? What’s going on?” Sam asked.

Bucky held his hand up to signal everyone to be quiet as he pressed his ear against the wood. He held his breath as he listened intently. There were a few moments of quiet until he head another thump and a small moan. 

Without warning Bucky ripped open the door and stepped out into the hallway. He nearly tripped over when his foot hit a solid form. He glanced down to see one of the guards lying at his feet, letting out low moans of pain. His eyes travelled down the hall to see all of the guards were either unconscious or were too dazed to get to their feet. 

He froze when his eyes fell on an all too familiar red dress. 

Bucky locked eyes with *yn*, her lips parted in surprise and chest heaving up and down as she tried to regain her breath. The pair stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, the silence almost deafening as they eyed each other. 

“Bucky!” Sam called out, shattering the silence.

Bucky was only distracted for a split second but *yn* took it, turning around and sprinting down the stairs. “Hey!” Bucky shouted, taking off after her ignoring Sam’s shouts from behind him. 

Bucky leapt down the winding stairs, catching brief glimpses of the red material before it disappeared around the next corner. Finally his feet planted on the lower floor. His eyes scanned the crowd, locking onto *yn*’s figure as she pushed through the crowd.

His jaw locked and he could feel himself enter into winter soldier mode as he stormed forward and plunged into the throng of people. He ignored protests and exclamations of surprise as he shoved people out of the way, parting them like the red sea as he kept his eyes focused on her like a laser beam. 

*yn* glanced over her shoulder and the pair briefly locked eyes before she turned around once more and broke out of the crowd, sprinting towards a door with a neon exit sign hanging above it. 

Bucky was hot on her heels, shoving the door open revealing another set of stairs. He hurried up the stairs and got to a landing revealing two doors. He noted that the left door was slightly ajar and he pushed through it revealing a large hall.

He sprinted into the centre of it, coming to a stop when he saw no sight of *yn*. He did a 360 of the room, craning his neck to look around. The room was empty except for a few large wooden boxes covered in tarps. Clearly this was where Sharon kept the less impressive stolen art.

“Come on.” Bucky muttered under his breath as he looked around. It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop but his senses were telling him that he wasn’t alone in this room.

*yn* was here, if that was even her name.

He let out a grunt of surprise as a sold object hit his back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He could feel limbs wrapping around his neck and his torso as slender arms pulled his neck into a headlock. He let another grunt as he brought his hands up to grip onto the arm that was around his throat.

He furrowed his brow in surprise when he pulled at the arms and found them unbudging. He tried once more, mustering all the strength he had but *yn*’s grip remained unmoving. He gritted his teeth and took a couple steps before shoving his back into one of the wooden crates.

He heard *yn* let out a small moan of pain as her body smacked against the solid mass with full force. Sure enough, her grip loosened slightly which allowed Bucky to pull her arm from his neck and throw her body over his head and off him. 

She twisted her body in the air so that she landed in a crouched position but still on her feet. Bucky watched her as she rose to her full height, her body slightly gleaming with sweat under the sterile light. She took a few steps back from him and leant down to spread apart her dress, revealing a black thigh garter.

Just as Bucky had suspected on the dance floor, sheathed inside the thigh garter was a small blade. He watched as she pulled it from her thigh, gripping it tightly in her hand.

“You picked the wrong dress tonight doll.” Bucky tutted as he took a few steps towards her.

“You don’t like it? I’m hurt.” *yn* pouted, placing a hand over her heart mockingly. 

“Trust me doll, I like it.” Bucky answered, letting his eyes briefly dart from the dagger in her hand to her dress. “But it’s not exactly the best dress for blending in and slipping away unnoticed.” 

“Who ever said I wanted to slip away unnoticed?” *yn* answered, a mischievous glint in her eye as the pair began to slowly circle each other. Her words made his forehead crease in confusion as he studied her intently. 

“So you know who I am?” 

“I do.” *yn* nodded as she twisted the knife in between her fingers. “The зимний солдат.” 

Her answer made Bucky’s lips part slightly in surprise. “That is what they call you, isn’t it?” She mused.

“Who are you?” Bucky snapped causing her to smirk to widen.

“What were those magic words again, Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать-”

Bucky suddenly lurched forward, taking *yn* by surprise. She reacted instinctively, bringing the blade up from her side towards his stomach. Bucky gripped her wrist using his right arm, stopping the knife only inches from his flesh. He pulled her closer to him and raised his metal arm to strike her. With lightning fast reflexes her other arm shot up and her hand enclosed around his fist.

He glanced up at her in surprise when she pushed against his metal arm, stopping his fist from colliding with her jaw. He grunted as he mustered up more strength in an attempt to break out of her grasp to no avail. They were evenly matched in strength. 

He had no idea who she was but now he was certain of one thing. They both had super soldier serum running through their veins. 

*yn* took advantage of Bucky’s surprise and lifted a leg up, kicking him squarely in the stomach, her stiletto heel digging into his skin. Bucky spluttered as he felt the wind get knocked out of him, loosening his grip on her arms. *yn* reacted quickly, knocking his feet from underneath him and jumping on top of him. 

Bucky groaned as his back hit the concrete floor and *yn* straddled him, pinning both of his arms above his head with one hand and pressing her dagger to his throat with the other.

“I think I liked you better when I was showing you up in front of your friend.” She remarked as she pressed the blade firmly against his skin.

“And I think I liked you better when you were dancing on me and not trying to kill me.” Bucky spat back as he squirmed underneath her causing *yn* to cock her head to the side, an amused expression on her features.

“Now whoever said I wanted to kill you?” 

“Hmm I don’t know, could be the knife you’ve got against my throat.” He growled, wincing as the metal dug even further into his flesh. *yn* let out a breathy laugh as she leant down towards his face.

“Trust me pretty boy, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.” 

The sound of footsteps approaching and Sam calling Bucky’s name made both their heads jerk towards the door before Bucky could answer her. This time it was Bucky’s turn to take advantage of *yn* being caught off guard. He managed to wriggle his metal arm out of her iron like grip and instantly lurched up to grab her around the throat. 

*yn* spluttered in surprise, instinctively dropping her dagger to use both her hands to struggle against his vice like grip. Bucky used all of his core strength to push her off him and roll himself on top of her. Now he was so close up to her and under bright light, he could see that her skin was littered with small scars and bullet holes. 

*yn*’s face was slowly growing red as she desperately gasped for air, her body squirming underneath him as she clawed at his metal arm. “I’m not going to ask you again, who the hell are you?” Bucky spat, glaring down at her as he desperately searched her eyes for some sort of answer.

“I don’t-” She spluttered, “I didn’t come here to hurt you, please-” She continued, her voice barely a whisper as her airway grew more restricted. For the first time since Bucky had locked eyes with her, he could see some form of fear and desperation reflecting back at him. The pair eyed each other for a few moments before Bucky slowly eased his grip around her throat, just enough for her to regain some air. *yn* gasped at the feeling of oxygen entering her lungs once more.

“Woah, what the fuck-” 

Bucky looked up to see Sam, Sharon and Zemo staring at the pair with wide eyes, all three of them with their weapons raised. 

“What part of stay out of trouble did you not understand?” Sharon queried, an exacerbated expression on her features.

“Trouble found me.” Bucky answered gruffly as he looked back down at *yn*. The fear that had been present on her features only moments ago had vanished, the cocky and flirtatious mask had been slipped back on. 

“Not that I really mind this position, but given that the cavalry’s arrived, do you mind getting off me?” *yn* asked Bucky coolly. 

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unamused at her remark as he studied her. “You’re not going to try and kill me again?” 

“I already told you, I don’t want to kill you.” *yn* huffed, rolling her eyes. 

Bucky studied her for a few moments before finally relenting and releasing her throat from his grip. He pushed himself off her and rose to his feet but not before grabbing her dagger and sliding it into his suit pants. 

*yn* got herself up from the ground, her breathing still ragged as she ran a hand through her hair and tucked her strays behind her ears. 

“You wanna tell us who this is Bucky?” Sharon asked, eyeing *yn* up and down.

“Supposedly her name is *yn*-”

“-not supposedly, it is *yn*.”

“-she seems to like not answering questions about herself.” Bucky ignored *yn*’s input. “Oh and she’s had the super soldier serum.” 

“Might want to keep an eye on your friend over there, I know he’s in the habit of murdering anyone who’s come within walking distance of the stuff.” *yn* remarked dryly shooting Zemo a dirty look. 

“Hello to you too darling.” Zemo grinned causing Sharon to roll her eyes.

“Who are you? Who the hell do you work for?” Sharon quizzed her.

“I don’t work for anyone.” *yn* snapped back.

“The flag smashers?” Sam asked causing *yn*’s face to contort into a look of disgust. “Fuck no, I don’t work with those amateurs.” 

“Just tell us what you want or I’m going to have to detain you.” Sharon spoke. There was a brief pause as *yn* studied Sharon before looking over to Bucky.

“You’re not the only one looking for answers, зимний солдат.” She answered quietly, her features softening for a moment as she looked at him.

“Well then maybe we can help each other get answers then.” Bucky murmured back.

The pair studied each other for a few moments before a loud honk suddenly sounded outside. Gun shots rang out from underneath them followed by loud screams and shouts. Bucky, Zemo, Sam and Sharon looked around in confusion as the sound of hundreds of footsteps began to grew louder and louder. 

“Sorry kids, that’s my ride. Gotta fly.”

Within a few seconds the door burst open and hundreds of party goers flooded the room, shouting for help as they fled from the gun fire. Bucky glanced over to where *yn* had been only a few seconds ago to see that she was sprinting towards the only window in the room. 

Bucky pushed through the panicked crowd, watching helplessly as *yn* reached the raised window. She clambered up onto the ledge and shoved the window open. She glanced over her shoulder and the pair locked eyes when Bucky was practically within arms length of her. 

“I’ll be sure to send Doctor Nagel your regards, Buck.” She taunted. “We should do this again sometime, maybe without trying to hurt each other.” She smirked, sending him a wink before leaping off the ledge. Bucky scrambled up onto the ledge and poked his head out to see *yn* sliding down a pipe fixed to the outside of the building. 

He watched helplessly as her stilettos hit the ground. She approached a waiting motorcycle, the driver holding out a helmet for her expectantly. She took the helmet and slung her leg over the seat, sliding her helmet on as the driver throttled the engine. She looked up to the window and gave Bucky a wave before wrapping her arms around the driver’s waist.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed as he watched the motorbike peel off into the bustling street, going completely unnoticed by the rest of the public amid the chaos. 

“She’s gone?” Sam queried as the other three appeared beside Bucky at the window.

“Hm.” Bucky grunted, clenching his jaw in annoyance as he watched the motorbike disappear from sight. 

“She was kind of terrifying.” Sam remarked matter of factly. 

“I thought for sure she was going to gut you, James.” Zemo observed.

Bucky stayed silently, clearly brooding as he stared out into the street as Sam studied him in amusement. 

“I think Bucky’s in love.” 

PART TWO (NAGEL)

---------------

зимний солдат = winter soldier

Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать = Longing, Rusted, Seventeen.

-------------

I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH!?!? As always feedback is appreciated!!!! Please give it back here xx

[julesclues]

Helloo how are you? I was wondering if you could do a jj smut in which him & reader are having rOuGh seggs but it's from jj’s pov. It’s ok if you’re not comfortable with it<3

You’re Mine

Warnings: smut, rough sex, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please), jealous! jj, 18+ themes

Word count: 1.93k

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x reader

A/n: this is my first time writing smut, so I hope it’s good!

Summary: JJ and y/n are dating but when she starts talking to some random touron at a party, JJ gets jealous and reminds her who she really belongs to. (JJ’s perspective)

I watched as John B twirled Sarah to the beat of the music. Kiara and Pope were at the bar drinking God knows what. It sure made them get drunk quick though. As for y/n, I watched her intensely as she danced alone, in the middle of everyone. A goddess was an understatement. I downed my beer and made my way to her. I felt myself getting hard by just watching her. The way she swayed her hips with not a care in the world made me wonder how I managed to find a woman like her. Why she would even think about being with someone like me.

As I made my way to her, I saw a man approach her. He had blue eyes, a bit darker than mine, and a bit of a stubble lingering on his face. He was obviously drunk, but y/n being the oblivious beauty she is, thought he was just being friendly. I felt my fist tighten as my knuckles turned white with jealously. He wasn’t touching her or doing anything to her, but his intentions were obvious. At least to me they were. I got closer to listen to their conversation, but made sure not to involve myself just yet.

“Ya from around here?” His hard accent asked her. I rolled my eyes at his cliche attempt to get into her pants. “Yeah,” y/n chuckled. “Born and raised.” Her answers were short and sweet, I knew she was just trying to be friendly. I trusted her to not cheat on me, of course. But I didn’t trust him to not make a move. “So, you single?” He asks, getting closer to her. I felt my blood boiling. “No,” you say awkwardly. “I- uh. I have a boyfriend.” He hums in understanding but still moves closer to her. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, right?” He puts his hand on her shoulder, and that’s why I finally interfere. “Y/n, baby,” I say, spinning her around to look at me. Her eyes lit up as she looked at me. God, she was beautiful.

“This the boyfriend?” The guy asks, and she turn to him. “Yeah,” she answers nonchalantly. “Come on, we’re getting out of here,” I say roughly. Before leaving though, I make sure the guy knows that she’s mine. “Don’t talk to her again, got it?” I hiss. He rolls his eyes and walks away without a word. I pull y/n all the way to her house and slam the door shut. She jumps a bit, knowing I was angry. “I hate that guy,” I admit, pacing back and forth. All she does is chuckle, making me stop and look up at her. “It’s fine JJ,” she says, trying to reassure me. But for some reason, that made me more mad. “You saying you liked how he was trying to get in your pants?” I ask, getting close to her. She blinks a couple times, her eyes flickering to my lips and back up to my eyes.

“N-no,” she stutters, squeezing her thighs together. I smirk, eyes roaming her beautiful body. She had on tight leather pants that I loved so much, with a deep v-neck shirt that was once mine. “I don’t believe you,” I whisper, as I start to kiss her neck. She moans ever so slightly into my ear, which sounded like pure bliss to me. I attack the other side of her neck now, pushing her slightly to trap her body against mine and the wall. “JJ,” she moans, but I silence her by kissing her harshly. She runs her fingers through my hair, tugging at it a bit. She drives me crazy.

I grab her hands and pin them to the wall, making her grunt with pleasure. “No touching princess. I don’t think you deserve it after what you did today.” She whines in disappointment which just fuels my need for her. I go back to kissing her neck just to hear those little whimpers I always longed for. “Up,” I command, and she obeys, jumping while wrapping her legs around my waist. I grab her ass, squeezing and carrying her to the bedroom. I throw her on the bed and she props herself up with her forearms, eyes scanning my body and I rip of my shirt. “You’re gonna be a good girl, right?” I ask, crawling on top of her and pinning her arms down. “Yes JJ! Anything for you,” she moans, as I grab her shirt and rip it off her body. I look down and realize she had no bra on. “I thought you were a good girl?” I question, as her face turns a bit red. I don’t give her time to respond though, as I bring my mouth to her breast. “JJ!” She moans in pure delight. As my mouth attacks her right nipple, my hand massages the left one.

She arches her back in pleasure, making her clothed core rub against mine, making me moan against her chest. The vibrations make her groan, causing me to smirk. Halting my actions, she whimpers as her nipples harden. I kiss down her stomach, leading to her core. I start to unbutton her pants and she lifts her hips so I had no resistance in taking them off. Her panties slip down with her pants, and I stare at her glistening pussy. I threw her pants somewhere across the room, not really caring at this point. I was painfully hard already, but had to make sure she knew who she truly belonged to. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” I admit and she giggles. “But you’ve been bad y/n. Talking to that excuse of a man. Not realizing he was flirting with you. I’ll show you who you belong to. I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” I lick my lips in anticipation and dive down to taste her.

I start to lick her folds, making her moan and shiver. “Oh, JJ!” I’ll never get tired of hearing her moan my name. My tongue swirls around her clit as she throws her hands in my hair and pulls a bit. As good as it feels, I throw her hands off my head and pin it above hers. “No touching,” I whisper and go back to tasting her. Using my free hand, I insert two fingers into her, but give her no time to adjust. “Fuck!” She moans loudly, arching her back. I thrust my fingers into her at a fast pace, while my tongue leaves wet circles against her clit. “Oh g-god! Pl-please don’t stop!” She moans and stutters. I felt her getting closer and closer with each thrust. Her legs start to shake and I feel her hands turn into fists. But before she could cum, I stopped completely and looked up at her. I removed my fingers and brought them to her mouth. “Suck,” I command, but she keeps her mouth closed.

I pull on her hair, making her gasp, and insert my fingers into her mouth, making her taste herself. “You said you were going to be a good girl,” I say in disappointment and lust. She twirls her tongue around my fingers as I keep talking. “But so far, you haven’t been. If you want to cum princess, then you better listen to me, got it?” All she did was nod in response, moaning just a little bit. I remove my fingers from my mouth and take off the bottom half of my clothing. Her breathing became more erratic as she stared down at my cock. I smirked, feeling confident. She grabs my cock in impulse, making me moan and throw my head back. “Shit,” I groan, but throw her hands off. “No touching,” I grunt. She whines and I get back on top of her.

I align my dick with her entrance, rubbing up and down her folds. “Stop teasing baby, p-please,” she begs. “What do you want princess?” I ask her, and she grinds against my cock. “Princess,” I warn, and she bites her lip. “I want you JJ.” I smirk and shake my head. “You want me to what, y/n?” She groans in frustration, just wanting me already. It was fun to watch her long for me. “I want you to fuck me JJ! Please, fuck me until I can’t walk.” My cock twitches at her words. “As you wish princess.” I roughly slam into her, not giving her time to adjust as I start to thrust in and out of her. She gasps loudly, grabbing onto my shoulders and clawing her nails down my back because of the pleasure. “Oh! JJ! Yes!” She repeats my name like a mantra, causing me to go faster and harder.

I put my hand on her throat, and she moans. “F-fuck yes! Choke me harder.” I moan at her words, pushing down on her neck harder. I make sure not to hurt her, but it was obviously she liked it a lot. I felt her pussy clench against my dick, which made me throw my head back. Each vein caressed her walls like we were made for each other. I felt her getting close, since I didn’t let her cum before. “Shit! I-I’m gonna cum!” She groans, but I squeeze her throat slightly. “Not yet princess. I tell you when to cum, got it?” She whines, not being able to respond. I loved watching her try hard not to cum for me. How badly she tried to obey me. “Be the good little girl you say you are,” I moan. She squeezes her eyes shut and opens her mouth. Her breathing became more erratic, making me only fuck her harder.

My thrusts started to become more sloppy as I felt myself wanting to explode in her. “Y/n! Fucking shit! You feel so good around me baby. Never going to talk to another guy again.” She moans loudly at my words, desperate to cum. I feel my orgasm approaching, as I stare down at her beauty. Her breast bounce with each thrust. This was definitely a moment I’ll think about while self-pleasuring.

“Such a good girl! F-fuck. Cum for me y/n. Do it baby. Cum around my cock!” Instantly, she moans load and claws against my back. I feel her milk my cock as her orgasm runs through her aggressively. My thrusts don’t stop though, as I help her ride through her orgasm. Though she had cum, I wasn’t giving up just yet. I started going faster, as the headboard of her bed shook violently. “JJ!” She screams, clenching her thighs together. I push them open though and hold them there. I don’t think she even knew she was that flexible. “Ah! O-oh fuck! I’m gonna cum again!” She screams, gripping the bed sheets with immense pleasure. “Cum with me y/n! Tell everyone w-who you belong to!”

I cum in her as she cums too, screaming my name. I thrust a couple more times, helping her ride out her high. After I hear her moans quiet down, I roll off of her and lay next to her. The room was silent, apart from her erratic breathing and my panting. “If I had known me talking to a guy would lead to this, I would’ve done it more often,” she jokes, making me look at her instead of the ceiling. I chuckle as she bites her lip. “JJ that was..” her voice fades, as she looks down and smirks. “That was fucking amazing.” I smile and climb back on top of her.

“I’m just getting started princess.”

[dapandapod]

HELLO! I am yearning. Geraskier get to slowdance.

I highly recomending listening to at least this!

and if possible, let it overlap with this!

PLEASE ENJOY! <3 On Ao3 here

Half a bottle of wine, beers, and stray pieces of escaped salad painted a domestic scene on the kitchen table.

Most of his friends had left for the night already, as time passed and the rain clouds gathered. 

In their wake is the old gramophone in the living room, rediscovered and cherished as old classics such as Queen, Bowie, Beatles, Chopins, or  like right now, Ella Fitzgerald singing with Louis Armstrong softly over the speaker.

It is just Jaskier and Geralt left. Jaskier usually lingers, and Yennefer teases them about it mercilessly,  but truth is, Geralt wants him to.

There is something building between them. Has been, for a good long while. 

Something Geralt has been too much of a coward to admit to himself, but here he is, sitting with their legs pressed together, next to each other by a big, empty table.

He can do the dishes tomorrow. The rain is pattering against the window, the candles burning low and giving everything a dreamlike glow.

The way Jaskier is smiling at him, fiddling with a napkin inches from where Geralt is resting his hand, it makes him feel warm, content. If he got nothing else but this, he would be happy.

“It feels like we are in one of those old time movies.” Jaskier says when a new song starts.

“Is that so? War drama or cowboys?” Geralt teases, and Jaskier pokes his hand on the table in retaliation. But let it linger, for just a moment, before returning to the poor napkin.

“I see no boots nor hat on you.” Jaskier snarks, giving him a look and then averting his eyes down to his hands. Geralt is looking too. On those long fingers moving so close to his, on Jaskier’s lips, forming words but holding them in.

“Maybe war drama. Where the soldier comes back and asking his sweetheart for a dance.” Jaskier muses, and yes, Geralt can see it. 

The beat is slow, the piano smooth, Ella’s voice crooning around them.

“Seen many of those?” Geralt asks.

“A few. My grandmother used to watch me a lot when I was a kid. She had a few favorites.” Jaskier smiles at the memory. “We used to dance too, I would stand on her feet when she showed me the steps. Haven’t danced like that since she passed.”

They are quiet for a moment, and Geralt makes a decision. He stands up, chair scraping, and offers Jaskier his hand.

“Dance with me?”

It’s nerve wracking, the second Jaskier spends studying him, until he places his hands in Geralt, warm and a little sweaty. 

He stands too, and Geralt backs them into the open space in front of the fridge. 

Not the most romantic setting per say, but he wouldn’t  have it any other way.

“I only know how to lead.” Geralt admits, and Jaskier’s mouth quirks in a fond smile.

“I barely know how to follow. Lead on.”

“You can’t stand on my feet though.” Geralt warns, stepping in close and putting his hand on Jaskier’s waist.

“Spoilsport.”

They sway to the beat, circling around in the small space, listening to the rain and the music. 

Jaskier’s arm is resting over his, his hands ever restless playing with the seam of Geralt’s shirt. 

Time doesn’t exist here, in this bubble of theirs. Geralt barely notices the songs change, so lost in their slow co-existence.

Then it abruptly ends, as the needle has reached its end destination.

Jaskier pulls back without a word, leaving Geralt in the kitchen, cold and lost. He can’t bring himself to move though, not sure what is expected of him now. 

Jaskier pads out into the living room, and then the music starts again.

Without a word, without any hesitation, Jaskier returns to Geralt’s arms. But instead of holding his hands, he wraps his arms around Geralt’s shoulder, bringing them so much closer than before.

Their feet touch before they find their rhythm again, and Geralt’s hands find Jaskier’s lower back almost on their own.

He can feel Jaskier under his palms, his breath against his neck, his fingers for once calm as he is being held.

“This is nice.” Jaskier murmurs, and Geralt agrees. 

He moves an inch closer, holding Jaskier against himself, and is rewarded with a soft intake of breath. 

Then Jaskier is leaning his head against his, forehead resting against Geralt’s temple.

“Stay?” Geralt whispers, and Jaskier tightens his hold, nose tracing Geralt’s jaw.

Instead of replying, Jaskier kisses him. It is soft and slow, that restless hand touching Geralt’s neck, tracing down to his chest, over his heart. 

Geralt catches it, lacing their fingers together as the dance continues. Jaskier stays the night. Helps Geralt with the dishes in the morning.

Kisses in the morning light tastes like coffee and promise.

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

♣   —   summary: when you told armin to pick up eren’s call while he was fucking you, you weren’t expecting things to escalate this quickly. not that you were complaining.

♣   —   pairings: armin x reader, eren x reader, armin x reader x eren

♣   —   chapter tags/warnings: oral sex (receiving), spanking, humiliation, degradation, semi-public, degradation kink, rough sex, mirror sex, alcohol and drugs.

♣   —   a/n: thank you so much for all the love you’ve been giving this story so far! it makes me so happy you are all enjoying it so far. when i finished this chapter i realized the influence of halsey’s ‘strange love’ had lmao so if you have a chance, check it out. also this is a eren centric chapter while the next one will be centered around armin c: 

chapter four: the bathroom sink

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Last chance.”

Armin nodded, a soft smile on his lips. You were sitting on his bed, wearing a tiny black dress and high heels. You crossed your arms and legs, a small frown on your face.

“I’m sure. You’ve been wanting to go to Pieck’s party for a long time so you should go,” he said. “I just have too much work. I- my planning skills failed me,” Armin laughed softly.

“Can’t you do them when we get back? It’s the first party we’re attending with Eren. You know since…” you made a funny face, making you both laugh. “It was supposed to be fun for the three of us.”

Your boyfriend walked from his desk to his bed and cupped your face tenderly, thumb brushing against your pouting lip.

“Have fun for me,” he said, your frown deepening. “You look really, really beautiful, though.”

“How beautiful?” you teased him, leaning your head against his palm.

“Enough that I’m having a hard time telling you to go instead of staying here with me,” Armin replied, leaning in and pressing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Fine,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“C’mon. Tomorrow morning I submit my last paper and we can have lunch and then watch some movies together,” he offered.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he smiled. You grinned and grabbed his face, placing a lot of small, chaste kisses on his lips, loving the way he giggled at your action. “Go have fun, I promise I’ll come with you to the next one.”

“Not the same without you though,” you reminded him, pulling away and lacing your pinky fingers together.

“Yeah, but Eren’s going, right? You can have fun with him.”

Your eyes immediately shot up at him. “Fun?”

“You know, uh- fun ,” he shrugged, a light blush covering his cheeks as he put his hands inside his pockets. It took you a couple of seconds to understand what he was implying.

“ Oh , okay,” you said, nodding your head softly. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s him, so,” Armin shrugged. You nodded and took his hand to your mouth, placing a kiss on his knuckles. “Still gonna miss you, though.”

Armin smiled, pulling you closer for one last kiss before you left his dorm.

• • •

Pieck’s parties were always a huge success. She only used to throw them twice a year and maybe that’s why they were so special. Everyone sent some money to her and she would make sure to buy enough alcohol and weed to keep everyone satisfied the rest of the night. A part of you thought it was almost impossible everyone’s donations could cover everything but Pieck always seemed more than pleased to put some of her own money for the party.

You had been friends with Pieck for quite some time now, hence why she let you bring some of your friends to the party. Last year you had brought Jean and Armin with you, which led to Jean and Pieck to start dating. You liked how good they looked with each other and that Jean had finally closed the Mikasa chapter and was trying something new. Pieck always seemed calm and collected, loving to nuzzle on Jean’s chest whenever they sat together. Nevertheless, you had also seen her break up a fight with her bare hands between two guys bigger than her. Since then you had a newfound respect and admiration for the brunette.

“Hey, where’s Armin?” Jean asked as he opened the door to let you and Eren inside.

“Got caught up with some projects,” you answered and Jean clicked his tongue. Eren and you took off your jackets and gave it to Jean for him to leave them in Pieck’s room.

“Sucks to be him. Porco and Reiner brought really good weed tonight,” he said as he made his way to the corridor.

Eren and you went to the living room, finding Pieck and her friends already starting with the bong. She complimented your dress and you grinned at her, spinning so she could see the back of it as well. After earning a couple of whistles from Pieck’s friends, you sat beside Eren.

“New dress?” he asked.

“Mmhm, bought it when Pieck said she was throwing another party,” you said. Eren laughed.

“I don’t know how you do this. I put on the first thing I saw in my closet,” he confessed and took the bong from Pieck. You took a moment to eye his black shirt and dark jeans.

“You don’t look so bad,” you commented, shrugging as Eren took a hit. “Is it really good?” you asked.

He hummed. “Want some?”

“I’d rather drink tonight. And last time I mixed weed and rum-”

“Yeah, I remember you sitting by the window with lost eyes like you were in another dimension” Eren chuckled, taking another hit. You hit him with one of the pillows to which he laughed harder.

Ever since the first time you had kissed him, Eren had made sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable around him. He behaved the same way he always did whenever he wasn’t thrusting inside of you as Armin stroked himself.  Somehow it was really comfortable to know your friendship wasn’t in danger, that even if it had shifted to something entirely different he still found it in him to playfully nudge you during class or let you copy his notes if you shared a class.

One hour later, Pieck’s place was packed with people. The music was loud, big speakers filling the apartment as people danced around. Pieck had set a table only for booze and you couldn’t count all the bottles even if you tried. Whiskey, vodka, rum and cans of beer were on display for anyone to take and even if everyone already looked more than a bit tipsy, there was still alcohol to spare.

You watched amused as Eren played beer pong with Reiner, the cups filled with one shot of vodka instead of beer. Reiner won by a very short difference, which made Eren call a rematch, which he finally won. You played your own match with Porco but with beer, winning the match on your first try and making sure to remind him every chance you got the rest of the night, laughing at his pouty face. After dancing with some of your friends, you spotted Eren sitting on one of the sofas and went to sit next to him, asking how he was doing. Even if he swore he was okay, you noticed his head slightly swaying. You suggested dancing it off.

Next thing you knew, one of Eren’s hands was set on your hip as the other was placed on the small of your back, while you had your arms around his neck. The way his hips moving filling your mind with ideas of you riding him, his cock deep inside you as he grabbed your hair in his fist. Your eyes locked on his green ones for one moment before quickly shifting your gaze anywhere else but him. Even if you knew that if you were to make an advance he would be more than willing, you kept repeating to yourself that you weren’t alone. Pieck’s entire apartment was filled with people that knew you were Armin’s girlfriend. Honestly, most of them would take a second look if they saw how close Eren and you were dancing

Eren’s thigh moved forward until they were between your legs, your hips moving on their own against him. You cursed under your breath and then let out a small chuckle, looking back at your friend.

“You’re such an asshole,” you said. Eren raised his eyebrows, amused.

“Am I?”

Before you could reply, Eren had taken both of your hands and in a swift movement, made you spin until your back was against his chest. Not letting go of your hands, he placed them on top of your hips, pulling your ass against his crotch as he kept moving his hips to the beat of the song.

You felt as if every vodka shot you had taken with Pieck had gone straight to your head at once.

“Keep dancing,” Eren whispered against your ear, his voice sending bolts of pleasure directly between your legs.

Moving your hips to the music, you tried to focus on anything other than Eren’s semi-hard cock grinding against your ass. You looked around, afraid someone was going to notice but everyone seemed to be occupied on their own. You noticed Pieck straddling Jean on the couch as she danced on top of him, some other couples making out against the walls or dancing even more lavishly than you and Eren were. Still, you felt your knees getting weaker as you kept feeling his breath against your neck.

You arched your back and started throwing your hips back, your ass bouncing against Eren’s crotch along with the beat of the music. You felt his hands tensing over yours, grabbing your hips much harder as you danced.

Maybe nothing else would have happened if you hadn’t looked over your shoulder. Maybe someone would have whistled and you would have been brought to reality, remembering what everyone thought your status was and how inappropriate they were acting. But you did look over your shoulder, eyes locking for a couple of seconds with Eren, which was more than enough for him to drag you to one of the bathrooms and locking the door behind you.

Eren kissed you roughly as your back hit the bathroom sink, his hands roaming around your body.

“Wait, fuck- can we- is it okay if he?” he tried to ask in between the kiss, his body and mind colliding against each other.

“Yeah,” you said breathless, running up your hands across his back. “He said it was fine.”

That was all Eren needed for his hands to travel up your legs and underneath your small dress. He tugged on your panties and lowered them to the ground and you stepped away, letting him pick them up and storing them in his back pocket. He stood up again, his lips colliding with yours as he grabbed the back of your thighs, helping you get on the counter. His mouth travelled down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses until they reached the mount of your breasts, pressing his face against them and nipping on the skin gently, making sure not to leave marks.

He started lowering, kissing your stomach over your dress with his green eyes on yours as he sunk to his knees. His fingers trailed your skin from your ankles up to your thighs, spreading your legs apart gently until your pussy was in front of him. You looked at him, chest rising up and down from your ragged breathing as you watched him leave small kisses on the inside of your thighs.

“Only fair you get to come on my face this time,” he said. Not even the music outside the bathroom was loud enough for you not to hear him clearly, your legs twitching at his words. He smirked and pulled your legs apart wider as he trailed up a slow path of small kisses to your pussy.

As soon as he pressed his lips against your folds, both you and him noticed how wet you were. He hummed, the vibration of his voice making you breathe heavily, biting back a moan. Eren licked across your slit, collecting all your wetness with his tongue. It was the first time he was going down on you and damn if you weren’t already lightheaded. Plus, the fact you were doing it in your friend’s bathroom with everyone outside added a sultry element you seemed to enjoy.

Eren placed his mouth on you again, his tongue drawing teasing circles around your clit. You whimpered, your hand going to tangle on his hair, messy bun a bit dishevelled. He groaned against you, loving every time you pulled his locks and used the flat part of his tongue on your clit, earning new moans from you. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder as he pushed the other one a little further apart, his mouth still moving on you.

He sucked gently on your clit and you threw your head back, hitting yourself with the mirror.

“Fuck-- Eren, please ,” you panted, your hips bucking against his face. Eren dug his fingers on the plush of your thighs as he kept moving his tongue, getting you closer and closer to your limit.

Eren began lapping exactly where you needed him, a hand shooting to your mouth to muffle your sounds as you whined. Your other hand tightened its hold on Eren’s hair. He let you keep his head in place as you rolled your hips against his face, setting your own rhythm as he saw you search for your high. As soon as he noticed your hips stuttering, its movements desperate, he grabbed your legs still again, his tongue directly playing with your clit.

You came on his mouth, a hand over your own as you tried your best not to make too much noise. Eren stayed a couple of moments after your orgasm, giving your pussy slow, delicate licks to help you ride your orgasm off.

“Told ya’ I owed you,” he huffed playfully, making you remember what he had told you after the first time you had given him head. You chuckled as he stood up, kissing you languidly. You could taste yourself in his mouth, your body reacting to him as if you couldn’t do anything else but press yourself against him.

Your hands started unbuttoning his shirt as he kissed your neck. Long ago you had come up with the rule of not leaving any marks on your skin. As much as you loved finding bruises and love bites whenever you were showering, you preferred that to be a thing just between Armin and you. Since you had made that request, Eren had been extremely gentle whenever he kissed your skin, letting his lips drag across your skin teasingly before placing a soft kiss.

“How do you like it?” he asked.

“Huh?” you asked, letting his shirt fall to the floor, your hands caressing his toned chest.

“Well, this is a fantasy,” he said, pulling away so he could look at your face, his lips brushing against yours. “So I want to make you feel good.”

Eren didn’t miss the way your legs clenched on either side of his waist. He went back to kissing the other side of your neck as you made up your mind, hands roaming around his back and hair as he did so.

He didn’t have to wait long for your answer.

“I want you to be rough with me,” you sighed. Eren pulled away once more and looked at you, one of his hands palming your breast.

“How rough?”

“Until I tell you to stop,” you breathed out, your back arching at his ministrations. Eren nodded and kissed you again, his tongue entering your mouth as you once again started losing focus of everyone that was happening.

In that moment, your mind was filled with his hand playing with your tits while the other one went back to your folds, his index and middle finger rubbing soft circles, making you moan against your mouth. Eren pulled away from you and you watched him take out his wallet and then a condom from it. He put it between his teeth and then undid his jeans, letting them fall to his ankles along with his underwear.

You could never get used to seeing Eren’s cock. A part of your brain still was shocked as you tried to remember this was your new normal, getting railed by your friend with your boyfriend’s permission. Your hand closed around his length and you started pumping him, his tip already leaking precum. Eren ripped the condom package and rolled it over himself all the way to the base.

You leaned over to kiss him again, this time his lips moving rougher on you. You tried locking your legs around his waist, wanting to feel his cock against you. Instead, Eren grabbed both your legs and yanked you down the counter and onto the floor. You stumbled a bit on your high heels but he quickly turned you around and bent you over the bathroom sink.

Eren lifted your dress until it was resting on your waist, your ass exposed to him. He parted your legs with his foot and then lined up his cock with your entrance. Only a couple of inches inside you was enough for you to let out a high-pitched moan, your hands grabbing on the faucet desperately, the stretch making your head spin.

A hard slap fell against your ass.

“Keep it the fuck down. Do you want everyone to know your boyfriend’s friend has his cock inside you?” he hissed. The determination of his voice made you clench around him. Eren grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your hair up, forcing you to look at your own reflection in the mirror.

You watched your eyes and parted lips as Eren kept pushing inside of you, a whimper escaping your lips once he bottomed out. He took your hands and put them against the mirror. His own hands slid down your back until they settled on your hips. He started thrusting against you, your breath creating a fog on the mirror in front of you. You let your head fall, biting your lip as he kept moving his hips.

One of Eren’s hands went to your jaw, making you look at yourself in the mirror once more. You could not only see your face flushed with desire but also how his hair was almost completely loose and falling over his forehead as he kept thrusting against you.

“Look at yourself. You love being fucked as a slut, don’t you?”

Once again his words stirred something deep inside you. You desperately tried to hold on to something, your hands sliding down against the mirror until you positioned them correctly again. Eren smacked your ass hard again.

“I asked a fucking question,” he grunted, giving a particularly harsh thrust.

“Yes- fuck, yes, I do,” you panted. Eren picked up his face and you felt your legs falter. “Keep going, please.”

His hand went back to holding your head up by your hair, the other one gripping your ass firmly. Eren’s grunts were barely audible due to the music outside but made you melt every time you heard them. You started moving your hips back, meeting his thrusts as you did your best not to make too much noise.

Eren slapped your ass again, making you clench against him. He threw his head back, cursing under his breath and let his hand fall on your ass once more. Only a couple more thrusts were needed for you to come around him as well, one of your hands flying to your mouth to try and muffle your loud moans.

You heard Eren curse again and fasten his pace, letting go of your hair and settling both his hands on your hips. His orgasm followed a few moments later and you heard him groan, his cock twitching inside of you. You squeezed him as he came down from his high, earning a soft chuckle from the man behind you.

“Stop, I literally have nothing left,” he joked, removing himself from you and discarding the condom in the bathroom bin.

You laughed along as he helped you stand up again, lowering your dress in the process. Thanking him, you looked at your reflection again, cleaning the eyeliner smudge on the outside corner of your eyes and fixing your hair. Eren pulled up his underwear and pants and once his clothes were back in place, he handed you your panties that he had put inside his pockets.

“I can’t come out of this bathroom holding my panties,” you reminded him with a soft laugh. “Can you like- keep them for a moment? Once we leave this place you can hand them back.”

“Sure, sure,” Eren said, putting your panties back in his pocket. You looked at each other in the eyes and couldn’t help but burst into laughter once more.

“I’ll leave first, wait a bit before going outside,” you instructed him and Eren nodded, leaning against the counter and taking out his phone to keep himself distracted as he waited.

Nobody noticed you leaving the bathroom, nor the funny way you were walking. You grabbed one of the beers from the table and plopped on one of the sofas. You observed your surroundings and wondered if time had really passed as everything seemed to be the same. Jean and Pieck were now making out in the same sofa she had been dancing on and nobody spared a second glance at you.

You felt someone sitting down next to you, opening a can of beer as well. You turned to the side and saw Eren, his hair tied on a half-bun again and looking visibly refreshed. His eyes locked with yours and he smirked.

You clinked your beer cans. You sure knew how to keep a secret.

[ncitygirls]

dance - jeno x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.1k

jeno knows it’s bad, but he can’t help but reminisce on how this all began. he likes to torture himself by reliving the first night over and over. it always starts with the drunken taunts from his teammates, sullied further by his dismissal. ‘no way,’ he’d said. ‘i can’t go there.’ he remembers seeing your roommates hyping you up, followed closely by your misguided steps. even after his earlier reluctance, he still regrets not beating you to the jump, his friends’ clearing their throats, trying to act natural as you approached their booth.

he hated the setting: a grotty sports bar a town over from his college campus. it sold stale, cheap beer, triple vodka sours and served well past three am. this may not sound like the typical start to a love story, but it was a start all the same.

‘do you wanna dance?’ you asked in a painfully small voice, your emboldened strut paling in complete contrast to your timid yet gleaming gaze. jeno still can’t say where he found the courage to agree, but agree he did, nodding behind his beer before following you up to the sticky floor. somewhere along the way you had taken his hand in yours, in fear of losing him in the sea of sweaty bodies. in the musty wave of noughties hits with tacky modern spins, jeno managed to lose himself anyway. he hadn’t a clue where to put his hands, his eyes searching yours as you giggled up at him, cooing at his bewilderment.

so you led. placing his hand on your exposed waist, your top riding up as it hugged the skin beneath your rib. he felt you shiver under his touch, his fingers clenching minutely at the feeling. ‘is this okay?’ he’d yelled, though it came through as more of a whisper under the music. you didn’t respond, instead reaching for his other hand, squeezing it over the denim on your hip. jeno was spinning. not from dancing, and not from the amount he’d drank. he knew it wasn’t down to that, nor the dizzying motion of the lights, the thickness of the air or the pounding of the music. jeno knew it was you. your chest pressed flush to his, your eyes boring into his. he didn’t know when you’d started swaying, his body leaning, moving in time with the music and the others on the floor. he could hear the songs changing, feel the bass beneath his feet. there wasn’t much he could do but enjoy it.

much like he still does. as he drags you close to him, the rosie organza pleated around your chest pressed right up to his satin lapel. his confidence then pales in comparison to now. it only took a few months to see the change, one you nurtured in all the ways a man like jeno needed. in soft assurances and gentle praise. in delicate touches and the softest embraces. in ardent exchanges and steamy quickies.

but the trouble began this past winter. well, technically well before. as a child, jeno had spent his summers visiting his cousin jaemin in his hometown from before he could remember. there the two had fortified a friendship, a real brotherhood that jeno never would have gotten to experience without being cast away to the country every solstice. it was there he met his cousin’s neighbour, mark lee. mark lee, a kind kid with wide eyes and a wider smile, was the kind of kid everyone looked up to. he embodied what jeno typically thought to be an older brother. and he was. to his step sister and cousins, to kids in his neighbourhood, to jeno’s cousin jaemin and eventually to jeno. it’s why, this christmas just gone, when mark had approached jeno, with giddy eyes and a giddier smile, to ask him to be one of his groomsmen - not just due to the refusal of a painfully introverted jaemin - but because of a genuine brotherhood formed between the two, jeno’s big hearted self could not refuse.. bringing us back to where the trouble began.

‘so, are you bringing her to the wedding?’ mark questioned suddenly, his arm pushing through the sleeve of his tux. ‘you definitely shou- it’s a bit tight at the elbow, can you see?’

jeno still curses jaemin for opting out of being a groomsman, leaving jeno to deal with the trivialities of wedding prep. not that he has a real problem with it all. it’s just a fitting, he thought as he walked in, his eyes landing on the black silk hanging off the changing room door. it wasn’t until he realised it was just he and mark - the rest of the groomsmen opting to come on a later date - that he was regretting the decision. because even though no one would admit it to his face, mark was a bit of a groomzilla. less for the usual reasons. he wasn’t rude, short or angered by little inconveniences. he was just a man of superstition, faith, and insurmountable dubiety. he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted to do as much of his part as he could for his wedding day. jeno thinks his fiancée had been right to leave him the task of the guest list. mark easily knew more people, so was naturally inundated with acquaintances. it was a great idea, jeno thought.. until mark kept- on- pushing- ‘i’ll even relieve you of your duties early, let you go off with her-’

‘thanks man,’ the younger tried, watching the tailor pinch the jacket at his waist. ‘but really, i don’t think i will. i’ll just bring my mom or something.’

‘your mom’s already invited man, you know that.’ jeno huffed at that. of course she is. mark did take his duties seriously after all. ‘couldn’t have her going off on me like jaemin did-’

‘are you comparing my mom to jaemin?’

‘i’m just saying-’ mark paused to thank the attendant, slipping back out of his jacket as he walked up to jeno, squeezing his shoulder. ‘you’ve got nothing to be nervous about, jen. you’re like a brother to me. you should bring her, i’d love to meet her.’

jeno flinches just thinking about it, his spine straightening as mark turned to him fully. jeno manages a shrug, turning back to the mirror just for a second before deciding that, no. no, it wouldn’t be a good idea to introduce his girl to his best friend on his wedding day.

because the issue wasn’t that he wouldn’t invite you.

‘you met her at college, right?’

the issue was that he couldn’t.

‘maybe y/n knows her?’

the issue is that you’re already going.

‘you know what my sister’s like, she gets on with everyone.’

“jen?” you pant, his name falling off your tongue as he bounces you quickly in his lap. “come back to me.” he smiles at your sweet call, your teeth catching his lip between them before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

the ceremony starts in ten minutes, though guests are still pouring into the church. it’s what actually convinced him. that and you, your manicured hand stuffing your damp panties into the pocket of his fitted tux. it had been his undoing, your sweeping frame gliding into a small side door a few feet from the altar.

the clock is ticking but you pay it no mind, your hips halting their rise and fall as you dig your heels into the masoned floor, grinding your hips back and forth as you ride him. you feel his nails dig painfully into your skin, his tongue wrapping around yours, swallowing your gasps as his other hand gathers your dress, the layers of delicate organza billowing over his knee. when your nails find his nape, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled do, you suck on his ear lobe, forcing him to thrust up into you.

“fuck-”

“shh!” you hiss, rushing to stuff the same panties you gifted him in his mouth. you hear his muffled groans, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the essence of you onto his waiting tongue. he feels you clench harder around him, his eyes smiling in place of his occupied lips. he lifts a brow when your rocking falters, your eyes darting around his perfect face, incapable of taking in anything but him and how he makes you feel. there’s a question in his gaze, forcing your head to bob. “yeah- i’m close-”

he abandons your dress then, letting the material pool around you two as he presses his palm to your neck, bringing your mouth to his. it’s a quick and steep descent to your release, your thighs burning as he slams you up and down on his cock, your skin clapping against his as he abandons all reason. he’s kept it quiet for so long, at times he thinks it might consume him from the inside out, all this love he has for you. all jeno really wants is to scream it out from the highest mountain top, tattoo it to his forehead, paint it on the fucking moon. hell, he would pay anyone to listen. he didn’t care who. he’d tell anyone who’d listen that he, lee jeno, was in love with y/n y/l/n.

“i love you too,” you almost cry, jaw unhinged as you feel the effects of his thrusts and affection rip through you. it spreads through you like wildfire, setting every nerve in you alight before it finally consumes him. your heat pumps and pushes him past his release, his heavy load pouring out into you. you milk him through it, your temple pressed to the crown of his head.

it’s the church bells that rip you apart, your whole body cringing as realisation hits. you cringe further as his flushed face fills your vision, his hands gathering your dress again before further staining your panties as he wipes between your legs. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like it’s worse for you than it is for me.” you’re about to ask how when he moves away from you, closing his eyes as he wraps it up before shoving it back in his pocket. “i said don’t.”

“fine, i won’t-” your surrender is cut short when knuckles strike the door three times, jaemin’s sign to wrap it up. “shit, let’s go-” you try to leave but can’t. because suddenly he’s stopping you, his warm hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.

“let’s tell him.”

“tell who what-”

“mark.” jeno used to hate acknowledging the striking similarities between you and your step brother. much like the unwon battle of the chicken and the egg: which came first? which of you taught the other that when your eyes enlarge, rounding into porcelain saucers, two full moons nearly eclipsing him, that he’d give you anything?

“today?” when he nods, you want to laugh. but he looks so confident. so sure. “jen, are you sure?”

“i am,” his affirmation makes your heart swell, even before he continues. “i’m sure about you.”

he knows where your uncertainties lie. but you affirm it too. “i’m sure about you too.” you both seem to forget the wedding in that moment, both neglecting the importance of your bridal party roles in favour of basking in one another for even a second longer. “only if you save me a dance?”

“always.” so much so, you don’t register the sound of the confessional door swinging open when jeno leans in to kiss to your forehead, his bitten lips pressing to the skin as his eyes land on a pair not too dissimilar to the ones he’d just poured his heart out to.

mark seems to short circuit for a second that seems to last hours. “mom’s looking for you,” he announces, spluttering around the words as you immediately grab jeno by the hand and drag him out the confessional. you both duck your heads as you shuffle past jaemin, who looks beyond pissed you didn’t heed his earlier warning.

when you both disappear, your brother turns on jaemin, eyes wide as full moons. “you knew!” it only angers him more when jaemin nods, unflinching when mark starts slapping his arm. “he told you and you didn’t tell me?”

“nuh-uh,” the younger defends, straightening out the groom’s lapel as he reverently shuts the confessional door. “i figured it out.” mark looks bewildered at the notion it had been so obvious. jaemin has to remind himself it’s mark’s day and not to be too harsh. “come on, hyung. he wouldn’t tell us her name, wouldn’t let us meet her.” mark still looks stunned. “don’t get me started on how many times they pulled this shit last christmas-”

and to think. it all started with a dance.