#and then she said she left him for his best friend

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTIKTOK TREND: CALLING MY BOYFRIEND'S BROTHERS * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N and Matt do the TikTok trend 'calling my boyfriend's brothers to see if they would cover for him'.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

"Okay, ready?" Matt asked, lifting his thumb above the screen as he hovered over the red circle inside the TikTok app.

They were both sat on her bed, Matt’s socked feet crossing over hers at the foot of the off-white comforter covered mattress, her shoulder leaning into his comfortably. The phone was perched at arm's length, front camera facing them, perfectly angled to catch both of their faces.

Y/N adjusted herself slightly so she was fully in the frame, brushing her hair behind her ear so her face was fully seen.

"Yeah." She nod. Matt tapped the screen, and a countdown blinked.

3... 2... 1...

As soon as the camera started recording, Y/N turned to it with an excited smile.

"Hi! So, I’m about to call Matt’s brothers, Chris and Nick, and pretend that Matt told me he was going to them a few hours ago. But he’s obviously right here, so we’re gonna see if they cover for him or not." She said rapidly, her words tumbling over each other.

Matt leaned into the frame with a nod.

"Try Chris first." He said, eyes glinting with anticipation.

Y/N turned her head to give him a raised eyebrow. She held the expression for the camera, too, before letting a crooked smile slip as she looked down at her own phone, her fingers already scrolling her favorites list.

"Alright." She muttered, finding Chris’s contact and selecting it. She pressed the speaker and quickly moved her phone closer to Matt’s so his phone could catch all the audio.

The dial tone filled the room, ringing for some seconds.

Matt tilted his head, whispering.

"He’s not gonna answer. Watch. I bet he’s like passed out or somethi-"

But before he could finish that sentence, the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" Chris’s voice came through, slightly raspy like he had indeed just woken up.

Matt’s lips snapped shut. He stared at her phone, frozen.

Y/N’s voice was suddenly sugar-sweet.

"Hey, it’s Y/N."

"Yeah, I know it’s you." Chris replied instantly, with the most guy best friend-coded dry tone ever. "What do you want?"

Y/N’s shoulders shook with a held-in laugh.

"Matt left my place a few hours ago, said he was going back home, but he’s not picking up his phone, so I just wanted to check..." She started, trying to keep her voice casual. "Is he there?"

The other end of the line went quiet.

Matt leaned forward like he was about to climb through the speaker. His eyebrows raised as the silence dragged.

"He said he was coming home?"

Y/N widened her eyes at Matt, giving a subtle nod to her phone.

"Yeah. Like two hours ago."

"Oh... yeah." Chris said, and Y/N's mouth dropped open. "Yeah, he is. He got here like a little while ago. We were actually thinking of streaming soon."

Matt whipped his head to look at Y/N, then to her phone, then back to her. He looked surprised that Chris would actually cover for him but was afraid of Y/N's reaction at the same time.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Oh, okay, cool. Could you pass him the phone real quick? I just need to talk to him for a sec."

There was a beat.

"Uhh... I think he’s sleeping." Chris said, voice feigning uncertainty. "He just went to his room."

Matt pressed his lips in a thin line, his whole body trembling as he tried not to burst into laughter. His knees came up instinctively, curling in as he looked at Y/N.

Chris was a terrible liar.

How could they be planning to stream if he 'just went to his room'?

Y/N tilted her head at the phone.

"Oh. Hm. Could you wake him up? It’s kind of important."

Another pause.

She raised her brows and slowly turned her head to Matt with eyes that screamed 'he’s about to give up'. But instead, Chris's voice returned, smooth as butter.

"Yeah, hold on. I can do that. Gimme a sec."

The faint sound of rustling blankets and a bed creaking came through the speaker, as if Chris had actually gotten up.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders bouncing as he laughed into his hand, trying desperately not to let a sound, the phone in his hand shaking with his movements.

Y/N looked at the camera, then back at her phone when more sounds kept echoing from it.

Thump.

Rustle.

Creak.

The sound of a bedroom door opening. Then faint, echoing footsteps down a hallway.

Thump-thump.

Thump.

Stairs?

"No way." Y/N whispered, jaw slowly dropping. Her hand hovered over her mouth, eyes wide in absolute disbelief as her phone blared the unmistakable sound of Chris stomping upstairs. "There’s no way he’s actually going to your room."

Matt was frozen next to her, frowning while trying to control his breathing from his laughter.

Then, click.

A door opened.

And a light switch flicked.

Y/N let out a little gasp, turning to Matt, mouth half-open in shock.

"Did he just-?"

Matt’s eyes traveled to her from her phone screen.

"I think so."

And then, Chris’s voice came through again. Muffled at first, like he was calling into the void.

"Matt? Matt!"

Y/N’s hand flew to her screen, muting her side of the call so fast it nearly slipped from her grip.

"Oh my god." She blurted out in a loud laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He’s actually trying to wake you up."

Matt, beside her, laughed just as hard, shaking his head in disbelief, his phone wobbling in his hand as it continued to record.

Chris didn’t stop.

"Matt, wake up."

"Wake the fuck up, Matt."

"C’mon, dude. Your girl wants to talk to you."

Y/N slapped a hand over her face, muffling her laughter against her palm so it wouldn't disturb the call audio. Matt leaned his head back, lips trembling, hand on his stomach like he was in physical pain.

"Thank you for muting it." Matt muttered, so only Y/N could hear him. "I would’ve choked if I had to hold back any longer."

Y/N’s nodded, silent tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She was trying so hard to be respectful of the bit, but it was a losing battle.

And then Chris’s voice echoed louder, like he was back to talking to Y/N - and not "Matt" -, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Y/N, I don’t know what you gave to him." He said in complete deadpan. "But he won't wake up for anything. You put him in a coma or something."

Y/N took a deep breath, biting her lip so hard it actually hurt. She unmuted her phone with a shaky thumb, still snorting between breaths.

"He isn’t waking up?" She asked, voice cracking with the effort to sound normal.

Chris didn’t even hesitate.

"No. I literally shook him. I yelled in his ear. He didn’t even move. I’m not even sure he’s breathing, bro."

Matt, curled up beside her, let out a strangled squeak as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, laughing so hard but still trying to keep it quiet.

Y/N’s lip wobbled from trying to suppress a smile.

"Alright, well- uh... can you tell him to call me when he wakes up?"

"Yeah, yeah." Chris said like he was already on his way back downstairs. "I’ll try again in a few, or I’ll text you. He’s probably just dead tired. I gotchu."

"Thanks, Chris." Y/N managed to say through clenched teeth.

"Mhmm. Talk soon."

Click.

Y/N dropped the phone onto the bed like it had burned her. She didn’t even have time to recover before Matt’s phone started vibrating in his hand while it was still recording.

Chris.

Y/N and Matt made eye contact, stunned for half a second before the hysterical laughter burst out of both of them simultaneously.

"He's calling me." Matt said to the camera, voice raspy from laughing too hard.

Y/N leaned closer to Matt, cheeks still warm from all the laughter, her voice slightly breathless as she spoke directly into the front lens.

"Alright. Time for Nick. But I’m gonna switch it up a bit ‘cause he’s at the Space Camp office today for some meetings, so if I say you were supposed to meet him there, he won’t be as suspicious."

Matt, leaning back on one elbow with a squint in his eye, let out a low hum.

"Bold of you to assume Nick’s gonna cover for me. You know we’re not the glue here."

Y/N gave him an innocent glance.

"What do you mean?"

He smirked and gestured vaguely at her face.

"You and Nick are like, glued together. He’s obsessed with you. He’s gonna throw me under the bus faster than you can say lip balm."

Y/N dramatically rolled her eyes.

"You’re just scared."

Matt made a pfft sound.

"Yeah, right."

With that, Y/N pulled her phone back up, scrolling through her contacts until Nick’s name popped up, paired with about seven different sparkly emojis and a shooting star. She grinned, tapped 'call', set it on speaker, and moved her phone next to Matt’s again.

It didn’t even ring twice.

"Hey, queen!" Nick’s voice chirped through the speaker, a little too loud and echoey from what was clearly a busy office.

You could faintly hear a door closing, chairs scraping, and someone saying 'That’s not the right shade for the summer launch' in the background.

Y/N’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Nick! Hi!"

Matt groaned and covered his face with his free hand. Y/N slapped his thigh to shut him up, trying not to laugh.

"Um, I’m so sorry to bother you at office day." She continued, letting her voice take on the sweet, clueless tone. "But Matt left my apartment a few hours ago and said he was coming to your office? To help out with the Space Camp shoot or something? He’s not answering his phone, and I was just wondering if he made it to you okay."

There was silence on the line.

Y/N’s smile grew slow and devilish as she waited.

"... He said he was coming here?" Nick asked, his tone completely suspicious, laced with genuine confusion.

Matt pressed his lips in a thin line. Nick would kill him.

Y/N nodded.

"Yeah." She replied sweetly. "He said he was gonna help you take some pictures?"

There was another half-second pause.

"That little bitch."

Y/N choked, slapping her free hand over her mouth so fast she nearly knocked her phone off the bed. Her shoulders shook violently as she turned wide eyes on Matt, who looked deeply offended.

"I told you!" Matt mouthed, pointing at her with a betrayed look.

Nick continued, completely unaware of the chaos he’d caused on the other end of the line.

"No. No, queen. He did not come here. He never told me he was coming here. I even asked him this morning if he could pick me up after the shoot, and he had the audacity to say no because he was spending the day at your place." He sounded like he was pacing now.

Matt’s hand was now covering both his eyes, shaking his head.

Y/N slowly lowered her own hand, trying to breathe.

"Wait... so he’s not there?"

"No!" Nick practically yelled. "He hasn’t even stepped foot into this building today. This man lied to your face. He betrayed my trust. And he skipped being my chauffeur."

Y/N sent a pointed look to Matt. She always told him to pick Nick up if he asked for it, or at least make Chris do it.

Matt squinted at her, whispering as lowly as possible so Nick wouldn't hear.

"Don’t you dare side with him. He called me a bitch."

Nick continued on the other side of the phone.

"Did you try calling Chris? Maybe Matt went home. You didn’t check with him?"

Y/N let out the most exaggerated sigh, forcing her brows to furrow and her voice to drop.

"No... no, I haven’t. I-I just figured if he said he was with you, then..."

Matt raised his eyebrows at her acting, but she waved him off.

"Oh, sweetheart." Nick said gently, his entire tone doing a 180. You could hear the pout forming on his lips. "Hey. Listen to me. I’ll try calling him, okay? Both Matt and Chris. I swear, if that little fucker is playing hide and seak, I’ll find him. But I promise you he wouldn’t do anything wrong."

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile and nodded seriously like she was actually worried Matt had evaporated into thin air.

"Okay. Please, just let me know as soon as you find out anything?"

"Of course." Nick replied immediately. "I’ll call you the second I get anything. And if he doesn’t pick up my calls, I’m going to kill him myself."

Matt raised an unimpressed brow and muttered a low 'Charming', rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his head.

Y/N beamed.

"Thanks, Nick. Oh, and when the shoot’s done, lemme know, and I’ll come get you, okay?"

Nick gasped dramatically.

"You’re the best. See, Matt could never. Love you, queen."

"Love you more." Y/N chimed before tapping the screen to end the call.

As soon as the line disconnected, she turned slowly to Matt with a look that could only be described as smug. Chin high, eyes gleaming, she crossed her arms and tilted her head.

"Nick passed." She announced. "He would never lie to me. Not even to save your sorry little ass."

Matt raised both brows in surrender and shrugged, looking toward his still-recording phone.

"I told you he wouldn’t cover for me. That man would rat me out to the FBI if it meant you’d still do his nails next week."

Y/N smirked, reaching over to grab one of her throw pillows and hugging it to her chest, feeling victorious.

"And for the record, yeah, Nick really would beat the shit outta me if I ghosted you for two hours-"

His words were interrupted by a soft chime echoing from Matt’s phone. At the top of the screen, a message banner rolled in from their shared triplet group chat.

Nick:

@Matt WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

Y/N froze.

Matt blinked once, twice, then turned slowly toward Y/N.

"Well, he said he would chase you down, so..." Y/N shrugged, smiling.

RING RING.

The phone echoed into a vibrating buzzing. It was Nick. Calling Matt. Y/N’s phone started ringing two seconds later, and Y/N's eyes were quick to meet the caller ID, Chris. Now he wanted answers, too.

Matt stared at the double call screens with dead eyes.

"I have never regretted anything faster in my life."

© vanteguccir

[ariestrxsh]

dom!reader x sub!chris x dom!friend

➶ ࣪ ִֶָ𖹭. content warning: threesome (ffm), semi-public, praise, degradation, light humiliaton, handjob, oral (m & f!receiving), unprotected sex, double cowgirl, facial

➶ ࣪ ִֶָ𖹭. summary: you and a friend seduce the cute, quiet boy who always sits at the back of the class and keeps to himself while the three of you are at a party on campus

dividers (top) by @/chachachannah (bottom) by @/sisterlucifergraphics

No I In Threesome

Loud rap music blared throughout the house as you and your best friend, Desiree, navigated your way through a sea of drunk college kids, trying not to trip over the pairs of feet as you made your way to the other side of the room.

You were laughing and carrying on about how excited you were for midterms to be over with and which boy you hoped would hit on you tonight when you noticed Desiree become a bit distracted.

"Awh. Look. That's the sweet boy who's in our communications class. He's all by himself," Desiree said, gently squeezing your arm before gesturing over at Chris who was sitting all alone on the couch, hoodie pulled on over his head with a red solo cup in one hand and his phone in the other.

"I'd love it if he hit on me," you chuckled, admiring his attractive features.

"Oh, come on. He's not the type to hit on someone. He's the type to get hit on," Desiree giggled, clocking his submissive behavior.

He was a shy, quiet boy who had a sweet demeanor, usually sitting at the back of the classroom and mostly keeping to himself. You hadn't spoken to him too many times, but the few interactions you'd had with him, you'd found his timid nature incredibly endearing.

He'd been so nervous, stumbling over his words and blushing anytime he made direct eye contact with you. You'd had your eye on him for a while because of this, secretly craving him.

You figured this might be an opportunity to bring one of your biggest fantasies to life. You leaned over and whispered a naughty idea into your best friend's ear, one the two of you had joked about before, but this time, you were serious.

At first, she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand as blood rushed to her cheeks at your suggestion, but the longer she thought about it, the more she found herself seriously considering it. She slowly nodded, the embarrassed smile fading from her expression.

"Now's our chance to go ask him. Let's go," you replied, taking Desiree's hand as the two of you strutted over to the blue-eyed boy who was peering down, scrolling through Instagram and not paying his surroundings any mind. You came up on his left side and Desiree on his right.

"Hey, pretty boy," you spoke aloud, pulling his phone out of his hand while Desiree took his drink from him, both of you collapsing down on the couch beside him. The two of you crowded him so closely, you were nearly perched on his lap. He glanced between the two of you, shifting nervously around on the leather.

"Mind if we have a little chat?" Desiree asked, taking a sip of his drink before leaning forward and placing the red solo cup on the coffee table.

"Yeah, we had this really silly idea, and we wanted to run it by you," you replied, tucking his phone into his hoodie pocket. He gestured toward himself, raising his eyebrows and looking around as if the two of you were addressing someone else. You nodded, biting down on your lip and placing your hand on his thigh.

"An idea? S-sure. W-what is it?" He wondered aloud, peering down at your hand placement as he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. All he could think about was how dangerously close you were to his...

Before he could finish his thought, Desiree stooped forward and whispered something into his ear. As he listened to her bold language and sexual vulgarity, you watched him widen his gaze, and his jaw dropped as a look of desire flashed across his face.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You w-want to what? With m-me?" Chris asked, raising his eyebrows at the two of you. He'd never had a woman come onto him so strongly, never mind two.

"Of course, you, silly boy. Come on. It'll be so fun," you purred into his ear, pulling off his hood and running your fingers through his brown locks.

"Yeah, what do you say, pretty boy? Think you can handle us both?" Desiree cooed, leaning in and resting her palm on his chest.

Chris eagerly nodded with a flushed expression, knowing damn well he probably couldn't, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

He looked at the two of you speechless, still in disbelief about what the two of you were suggesting. A threesome? With him? His cock stirred in his jeans at the way the two of you were devouring him whole with your eyes and putting your hands all over him.

"Ever taken two girls on at the same time?" You wondered, licking your lips as your gaze dropped to his lips. He timidly shook his head no.

"That's okay, baby. No need to be nervous. We'll pop your threesome cherry," Desiree told him, gripping his jaw and turning his head to face her. He slowly nodded, his heart pounding in his ears and his erection twitching in his pants.

"Sweet boy. You're already getting excited, aren't you?" You hissed, reaching for his bulge. He glanced over at you and let out a relieved sigh as you soothed his aching cock by gently palming him through the demin fabric. He peered down at where you were touching him, his jaw falling open as pleasure washed over his features.

"Don't worry, pretty boy. We'll show you how to take good care of us," you assured him, cradling his face and tracing his jawline with the tips of your fingers.

You slowly leaned in, closing the distance between your lips and his. Your tongue slipped into his mouth as he hummed into yours, a response to the way you caressed his eager cock that was straining against his pants. You pulled away, chuckling at how easily he had gotten worked up.

"But first, baby. We're gonna take really good care of you," Desiree told him, grabbing his jaw again and facing him towards her. He peered up at her with his desperate blue eyes and slowly nodded as she leaned in to kiss him, their lips locking onto one another's.

She slipped her tongue into his mouth, and he moaned when he felt the ball of her piercing. His heart started to race, and his palms started to sweat. He wanted to reach out and touch you both, but his nervous energy had his arms pinned at his sides, too shy to do anything with his hands.

Desiree pulled away from the kiss, giggling and commenting on how soft his lips were as she ran the pads of her fingers over them. His breath hitched.

"I think we should take him somewhere upstairs, don't you?" You asked, glancing between Chris and Desiree as you combed through his messy brown hair with your manicured fingernails.

"We definitely should. We don't want anyone to see what we're about to do to him," Desiree replied, biting down on her lip as she bore into Chris with her seductive stare. His breathing became more labored, his imagination running wild as her words danced around in his mind.

"Let's go," you said, leaning in before you jumped up and started to head to the second floor. You grabbed Chris' wrist and dragged him up the stairs. Desiree followed closely behind the two of you.

You started trying the doors, hoping that at least one room was available. The first couple you tried were locked presumably due to people who already had the same idea as the three of you.

The third doorknob that you turned opened easily, and you stepped into the room without any hesitancy, guiding Chris and Desiree in as well. Desiree closed the door behind her, the latch sounding as she locked it to keep someone from walking in on the three of you.

You didn't know whose bedroom you were in. It didn't matter. You just needed privacy and a bed.

You and Desiree kicked off your heels, discarding them into a pile on the floor. Chris followed suit, kicking off his converse. You sauntered over towards the sweet, shy boy, gently pushing him onto the edge of the queen-sized mattress. You and Desiree sat on either side of him again.

"W-what are you guys gonna do?" Chris asked, his eyes full of excitement and wonder as Desiree fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie. She slowly unzipped it, revealing the black t-shirt he had on underneath. She pushed his open hoodie down off of his arms and tossed it carelessly onto the floor.

"Come on, pretty boy. Don't play dumb," you softly answered, your lips curling into a devious smile as you reached for his belt, popping open the buckle. His heart raced, pumping more blood to the place he needed it most as he watched you undo his zipper and the button on his jeans.

You weren't wasting any time. You hooked your fingers into his waistband, pulling his pants and his boxers down slightly to reveal his length. "It's so pretty, baby," you complimented him, staring down at his cock as it sprung out of the restrictive fabric, "and so big."

He sharply inhaled as his precum covered tip was exposed to the cool air. "Wow! Look at that," Desiree said, peering down at it wide-eyed. She reached down, wrapping her fingers around his thick, veiny shaft, and started to stroke it gently.

You tilted his chin towards you again, looking into his pretty blue eyes and admiring his flushed cheeks and his slightly parted lips. "We're gonna have so much fun with you," you cooed before you slowly leaned in again. His eyes fluttered closed, meeting you halfway as he predicted your next move.

You engulfed his soft, warm lips with your own, feeling his breath quicken as Desiree sped up the pace of her strokes. You gently bit down on his sensitive flesh, causing him to whimper into your mouth, the soft vibration tickling your lip.

You moved to his jaw, leaving a trail of kisses as you made your way to his neck. Desiree did the same, latching onto the other side of his neck as she gently suckled on a sweet spot just below his ear. More soft moans unfurled from his pouty lips as the two of you teased him.

You peered down at his dick that was twitching in Desiree's grasp, and you delicately placed your own hand on it. A guttural noise came from the blue-eyed boy as you swiped your thumb over his swollen tip, causing the clear fluid that had gathered at his slit to leak down his length. You listened to all the pretty sounds and took in the sight of all the pretty faces he made, feeling a wetness pooling between your thighs.

"Wanna feel our mouths somewhere else?" Desiree whispered into his ear, her lips brushing gently against his earlobe and sending goosebumps across his skin. All he could think about was her tongue ring.

"Please," he desperately whined, savoring the feeling of being played with by you both at the same time. You slowly slid off the bed, nestling between Chris' legs, and Desiree followed.

The two of you looked up at him with your lustful eyes, both leaning in to lick a stripe from the base of his cock to his swollen tip. He shuddered at the sensation of both of your tongues gliding across his sensitive skin, tightly gripping the blanket beneath him as a moan spilled from his lips.

You gently flicked your tongue over the head, tasting the salty flavor of his arousal as he lifted his hips off the bed, subconsciously trying to coax it into your mouth. You and Desiree giggled at his desperation, which turned him on even more.

The soft sounds of the two of you planting kisses along his shaft echoed throughout the room along with Chris' labored breath and the moans he choked out as you each neared his most sensitive spot.

You circled his tip with your tongue a few more times before you finally took it into your mouth, the whole time Chris staring at you in anticipation. You hummed around the head, feeling him twitch against your lips. Desiree continued trailing kisses along his length, her mouth only a few inches from yours.

The two of you alternated, taking turns putting him into your mouth until he was squirming beneath you, whimpers slipping from his lips. You both started swirling your tongues over his slit in unison, his cock writhing in your grasp. He could feel the smooth metal of Desiree's tongue piercing stimulating his tip and creating a wonderful sensation he'd never felt before.

You each giggled and slurped up the clear fluid that was leaking from him, making his whole body tense beneath you. He tried so hard to fend off his orgasm, but he was teetering on the edge, just a few subtle movements from coming completely unraveled beneath the two of you.

You could see the pleasure etched into his facial expression. "Awh, look. He's so close," you said, pulling your mouth away for a moment.

"Already?" Desiree scoffed, following your lead and pulling her mouth off of him. "I thought he said he could handle this."

"Are you kidding? You really believed him when he said that?" You teased him, giving him a little smile as you gazed into his desperate blue eyes. The way the two of you subtly humiliated and degraded him made his cock pulse.

Suddenly, your gaze wandered from Chris to your friend. "Kiss me," you softly whispered as the two of you withdrew your attention from Chris and started making eyes at each other. He watched in awe as you reached up to cradle your friend's face, your gaze dancing over her features before the two of you embraced, your bodies pressing against each other as your lips met hers.

You loved kissing girls. Desiree's skin was smooth, and her lips were so tender and tasted faintly of her vanilla chapstick. You felt her warm breath mixing with yours. Your senses were filled with her sweet perfume and her favorite moisturizer she wore every day. You couldn't get enough of her.

She quietly moaned into your mouth as your hands wandered her body, tracing every curve. Her hands did the same, gripping your waist and pulling you closer. Her touch was much softer than a man's. She was much more passionate and somehow also more gentle.

Chris grew a bit jealous. He'd just gone from having the attention of two women to none in a matter of seconds, but he couldn't take his eyes off either of you.

The kiss the two of you shared was so erotic that he felt like he was intruding on two lovers sharing a vulnerable moment, almost like he was witnessing something he shouldn't be. You carded your fingers through Desiree's long, soft hair, your lips melding into hers as you fell deeper and deeper into her kiss.

The two of you had made out before two or three times in high school when the two of you were practicing for kissing boys and at a sleepover when you'd been dared by another mutual friend to kiss eachother, but nothing this heated until now.

You started reaching up her shirt, your hands brushing against the warm, smooth skin of her stomach until you reached her chest. You gently squeezed her breast as she hummed in delight, the vibration tickling your lip.

You pulled away for a short moment, just long enough to pull Desiree's shirt off over her head, leaving her in nothing but her jeans and her lace bra. You gently tugged on the lacey fabric, revealing her perfect breast. You leaned in and took her nipple into your mouth, gently sucking on it.

She threw back her head, gently tangling her fingers in your hair as she savored the feeling of your tongue flicking against her sensitive bud. The sounds she made were heavenly, and you smiled against her chest as you listened to how good you were making her feel.

Chris couldn't pull his eyes off of the two of you. He loved how tenderly you each interacted with one another, taking notes on what he'd do differently the next time he kissed a woman.

You slowly retreated, looking up at her before you attached your lips to hers again. You felt her hand resting on the inside of your thigh, her fingertips unhurriedly gliding up your skirt. Your breath hitched in your throat for a moment as she brushed her thumb against the damp patch on your underwear.

She pulled away from the kiss for a moment, but kept her hand between your legs, softly drawing circles on your clit through the fabric. "Oh, my god. You're so wet," she gasped with a bit of surprise in her voice.

Chris started slowly stroking his length as the two of you leaned in again, your lips being pulled together by some kind of magnetic force while your curious hands continued roaming each other's bodies.

Your fingers wandered to the front of Desiree's jeans, slowly undoing the button and pulling down the waistband to reveal her white panties she had on underneath. You gently squeezed her soft, round ass, smirking against her lips.

After you tugged them the rest of the way down her legs, the pads of your fingers slipped down the front of the cotton fabric, and you gently brushed against her wet folds, causing her to moan again. You had always wanted to touch her like this, to elicit these sounds from her, and you couldn't believe it was finally happening.

Chris' mind was swimming with thoughts, wondering if the two of you had slept together before this due to the obvious sexual chemistry that lingered between the two of you and wondering what he did to deserve becoming a voyeur to such a seemingly intimate moment.

When the two of you pulled away, you were each breathless and staring into each other's eyes. You'd almost forgotten Chris was right there until you saw him getting carried away with himself out of your peripherals and heard his soft whimpers as he started pumping faster.

"Ah, ah, ah. Better not cum yet, naughty boy. We're just getting started," Desiree smirked over at him, gently swatting his wrist. Chris nodded. He slowed his strokes to a stop, looking at the two of you like he'd been scolded.

Desiree reached for the hem of your top, and as your raised your arms, she pulled it off over your head, her eyes dropping to your breasts that were spilling out over your bra. Her gaze wandered over to Chris whose eyes were locked onto your tits. "Sit on the bed next to him," your friend told you with a devious smile on her face.

Chris scooted over a few inches, making room for you on the edge of the bed to his left. Chris' stare danced over your body as you stood up and plopped down beside the blue-eyed boy. He admired the pretty black bow connecting the two halves of your bra, licking his lips as he imagined taking it off of you.

"You can touch me," you offered him permission, sensing that he may have been too shy to ask. He blushed and smiled, reaching over with a trembling hand and delicately cupped your boob. He brushed his thumb along the fabric, feeling your nipple harden beneath his touch.

He hooked his finger into the strap of your bra and slowly tugged it down your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours once more to make sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries. You nodded in approval. He smiled when the fabric fell away, revealing your bare breast to him. He lowered his head, bringing his lips to your nipple and flickering his tongue over it, eliciting a moan a from you.

"Good boy," you cooed, reaching up and gently scratching his head as you ran your red nails through his hair. He whimpered against your chest at your praises, eager to do anything to receive more.

Desiree was on her knees in front of you, reaching under you skirt again and catching her fingertips on the waistband of your panties. She slowly slipped them down your thighs, discarding them behind her as she parted your legs and spread you open. Her warm breath hitting your heat caused you to gasp and shudder.

Chris peered down at her, eager to watch her start eating you. He'd only ever seen a girl eat another girl out in porn, never in real life.

Desiree's eyes were fixed on yours as she leaned in and attached her lips to your bundle of nerves. You jumped at the feeling of her mouth on you, and Chris watched in awe at the way her tongue started fluttering around on your most sensitive spots, her shiny, smooth piercing massaging your clit.

Your fingers found themselves threaded in her hair again as you pushed her head down. She gently shook her head, nuzzling your cunt. You rolled your hips forward, grinding against her face and leaving her chin soaked in your juices. You peered into her eyes, hypnotized by the way she looked at you, already nearing the edge.

"You wanna cum all over my tongue, don't you?" She whispered, her warm breath hitting your cunt. You fervently nodded, your eyes begging her to put her mouth back on you. "Not yet, not until Chris has some fun with you, hmm?" She cooed, giving you one last slow, soft, sensual kiss between your legs before she pulled away and glanced over at the boy beside you. "Wanna taste her?" She asked him in a sweet voice.

His eyes lit up. He turned the inner corners of his eyebrows up with his lips slightly parted as he slowly nodded. He slid off the bed, kneeling beside your friend. Desiree helped him out of his shirt, revealing his silver chain necklace.

You glanced down in anticipation as his shirtless form settled between your legs. You leaned back on the bed, propping yourself up with your elbows. Desiree placed a hand on each of your thighs and pushed them as far apart as she could.

"Doesn't she have such a pretty pussy?" She said to him, but her eyes were on you, watching your reactions and watching the way your cunt quivered at her words.

"It is. It's very pretty," Chris replied, wetting his lips as he drew nearer, his cold chain tickling your soft skin. He peered down, soaking in the sight of your glistening pussy just inches from his face.

His tongue darted out, brushing against your clit and making you softly moan. He gave a few sweet kitten licks, closing his eyes, too nervous to directly look at you as he started working his lips on your sensitive bud.

"C'mon, pretty boy. Don't be shy. I bet she wants to see those pretty blue eyes of yours while you eat her, hmm?" Desiree encouraged him, softly running her fingers through his hair.

He reluctantly opened his eyes, gazing up at you and the pleasured expression on your face, which encouraged him to keep going. His licks because a little messier, drooling all over your cunt as he ate you out. He wrapped his lips around your sensitive clit, gently suckling on it and moaning against you.

You couldn't get enough of his mouth and his fucked out expression as he got drunk off of you, slurping up all your wetness.

"Chris..." you moaned, one hand reaching up to squeeze your breast and the other tangled in Chris' brown locks. Your body began to tighten as he sped up the flicker of his tongue that hit all the right spots with the perfect pressure. "Oh, Chris.. Where did you learn to do that?" You whimpered, your legs beginning to shake.

You'd always been under the impression that he'd need to be taught or need to be shown how to do it right, but the look in his eye and the feathery touch of his tongue suddenly had you believing otherwise. Perhaps he was more experienced than he let on. He smirked up at you, knowing you'd fall apart any minute.

Desiree whispered into his ear while he licked you, calling him a good boy and telling him what a good job he was doing. His soft tongue continued exploring your wet folds, every few seconds, closing his lips down around your sensitive button and gently suckling on it, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

You clamped your thighs down on his head, suffocating him with your pussy as your body began to spasm. He could feel your wetness flooding his tastebuds as you finished, both his hands traveling to your waist and pulling you down further onto his face.

You let out a stream of unintelligible whimpers and moans as you continued grinding against his tongue, enjoying every last bit of contact his mouth made with you. You loved every second, even the aftershocks as you came down from your intense orgasm, Chris still lazily dragging his tongue along your folds and licking you clean.

You sat up as Chris retreated from between your legs, wiping a drop of sweat that had formed on his brow. He breathlessly smiled up at you with a flushed expression and pink-tinted cheeks, his chin covered in a sheen of your arousal.

"You did so good, Chris," you praised him, still trying to catch your breath. "Come lay down on the bed for us, hmm?" You softly spoke, patting the mattress like you were beckoning a puppy. He nodded, biting down on his lip. "We're gonna use your mouth and your cock at the same time, okay?"

He nodded even more enthusiastically this time. He laid back on the bed in nothing but his underwear and his silver chain, his chest rising and falling from excitement. You and Desiree exchanged a devious look, each of you closing in on him.

You slipped your hand into his waistband, pulling out his length, throwing your leg over his lap and straddling him while Desiree straddled his face, facing you while she pulled her panties to the side. You lined him up with your entrance, sinking down on him at the same time that his mouth made contact with your friend's warm, wet cunt.

Chris moaned as you slid down on his length, feeling every ridge and every vein of his pulsing cock as you stretched around it. You lowered yourself all the way until you were completely full of him.

You couldn't help the noises that slipped past your lips as you started to ride, trying to find a rhythm. You started to roll your hips forward, massaging Chris' cock with your walls and causing him to whimper against Desiree's cunt once more.

"Oh my god," Desiree said in a breathy voice as Chris started expertly eating her. She started grinding against Chris' tongue while the two of you stared into each other's eyes, exchanging looks of sheer pleasure.

"He's so good with his mouth, isn't he?" You cooed, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She slowly nodded, her jaw dropping as Chris started to suck on her clit. You rode Chris a bit faster, leaning in and pulling Desiree into another long, slow kiss.

Chris was overwhelmed by having two women make out on top of him while he pleasured you both, desperately trying not to finish too soon.

The room was filled with rhythmic breathing, loud moaning, and the languid sounds of Chris' cock and tongue working in and out of both of you. You squeezed around him, already getting close again, whimpering against your friend's lips.

"I'm gonna cum," Desiree whispered, pulling away from the kiss and pressing her forehead against yours. You gazed into her eyes, caressing her pretty face. "Yeah? You're gonna cum? All over his soft tongue?" You asked her.

She nodded, her moans growing more desperate as Chris started licking her more fervently. "Yes. Good girl. Finish for me," you smiled, talking her through it.

She started thrashing her hips, her orgasm crashing over her and leaving her a trembling mess. Chris graciously cleaned her with his tongue, savoring her flavor as she overwhelmed his tastebuds with her sweetness.

Your climax hit you shortly after, Chris' tip hitting all your hard to reach places as you bounced on him. He could feel you start to rhythmically clench around him, your cum starting to leak down the sides of his cock as his name cascaded from your lips.

You slowed down, still riding the high of your earth-shattering orgasm, your cunt still fluttering around his cock.

Chris was desperately squirming beneath the two of you. He couldn't take anymore, on the verge of his own release. "Where do you wanna cum, baby?" You asked the sweet boy, staring down at his fucked out expression after Desiree climbed off of him.

"On your pretty faces. Please," he whimpered in response.

You and Desiree crawled off the bed and knelt down on the floor, and Chris climbed to his feet, standing over the two of you. You each placed a hand on his length, pumping his cock that was ready to bust at any moment now.

He glanced back and forth between you two, taking in the sight of both of your smeared makeup and messed up hair, wondering how he'd gotten lucky enough to have two beautiful women on their knees, waiting for him to finish with mouths open wide and tongues sticking out.

He placed a hand on each of your cheeks, stroking your faces as he gazed at both of your eager expressions. His lips parted slightly after he licked them, and he pinned his eyebrows together as his eyelids grew heavy.

You knew he was coming undone seconds before pearly white ropes of cum shot all over each of your faces, squirting into both of your mouths and coating your features in his warm, sticky substance. Whimpers and profanities poured uncontrollably from him as he released all his pent up sexual frustration.

He stared down at the two of you who were giggling and laughing. A smile curled on his perfect lips that were bright pink with arousal as you both milked him dry. "Holy fuck. That was amazing," he managed to spit out, but he knew amazing didn't really do it justice.

"Naughty boy," Desiree smirked up at him, her hand still wrapped around his thickness.

"You liked that a little too much," you teased him as he tried to gather his thoughts and recover, completely dazed. He couldn't help but to wonder if maybe you guys had liked that a little too much.

After you and Desiree helped clean each other up in the bathroom, and after you'd both kissed Chris goodnight, telling him how much fun you had and suggesting the three of you should do it again sometime, you two started your walk back home from the party.

"That wasn't just some ploy to get me to make out with you and eat your pussy, was it?" Desiree nudged you in the arm, smirking over in your direction as the two of you made your way down the sidewalk, both sets of your heels clicking against the pavement.

"What!?" You asked, trying to sound shocked. "I can't even believe you'd suggest that!" You exclaimed. The two of you exchanged a look and broke out into laughter.

Desiree stopped walking for a moment, gripped your face, and turned your head towards hers. The way her hands felt on you gave you goosebumps and sent a shiver down your spine.

She leaned in and whispered into your ear, "Okay, but next time you're eating my pussy."

[sempiternalmuze]

Running Through the Halls of Your Haunted Home

Jack Abbott x doctor!Reader who has some problems being loved

tags: dr. jack abbott x female!reader, hurt comfort, reader runs away for a bit (story takes place when shes back), Robby being Jacks best friend, age/jobs not really established, implied not great childhood for reader, jack loves her ohmygod??, jack would never leave her tbh, a bit more flowery than i'm used to writing so let me know, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.3k

Five months. That was the timeframe Robby had laid out for you when you'd came to him a few days after Christmas, explaining that you needed a break, need time away from the Pitt, the city, the state. He'd been kind enough to not ask too many questions, but you knew he'd hear it sooner than later directly from Jack during one of their therapy sessions.

So three days after Christmas you packed your bag, grabbed your passport, and changed your number. From one day to the next you had gone from Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center to Portel, Brazil with Doctors Without Borders.

And you lived. You took the time you needed to find your peace again, to pick up the pieces that you had left behind in the dusty apartment Jack and you had shared.

But now it was May-- and Robbie was calling your number every few days. And today when you answered he'd sounded at about wit's end.

"Time's up kid, we need you back here." He sighed, and you could almost see his hand running over his face, tired and no doubt thinking about a fourth—fifth—coffee.

You had stayed silent for a moment, playing with the sheet of your hammock. You glanced at the tents set up by the river, kids running around in a game of tag, parents watching from the sides as they spoke to the other doctors on your crew.

"What if I told you I liked it here more? Then what?" You said, glancing back at the water.

Robby lets out a throaty laugh, one that pulls you away and forces you back to the shuffle of the Pitt. "Because if you did, you would've just said that."

It's a valid point— and true. You wouldn't be asking, wouldn't be hoping he'd tell you any different. You probably would have blocked him, sent an email to Gloria and moved on with your life.

"And I also know what you've got waiting." He whispered. And he was right. You wouldn't just leave like that and not tell Jack. The only reason you had been able to do it the first time was because you knew it was temporary, and small fold in the story you two shared.

"How is he?" The weight was heavy on your shoulders, an invisible force that only left in the depths of night and that was if you were tired enough to fall asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow. Jack was strong, and smart. He'd been through so much worse than a girl who was afraid.

"Well...he visits the roof a lot more now. The first few weeks were...well they were real bad kid." He pauses, like considering what would be too much to tell you. "I offered him to come stay with me, get away from the apartment, but he said he liked it. It gave him a reason to hold on."

Reasons to hold, how very Jack Abbott of him. To want to have hope, to find the reasons even though he wasn't sure where any of it would lead.

"He'd doing better now, I don't have to act like a hostage negotiator too much these days. He comes out to the park with us after work and he makes jokes with the new med students. But he misses you, a lot."

You nodded with a hum into the phone. The sun was so peaceful this time of day, it bounced off the water and on to your skin. You let your eyes close and let your mind drift back to those months ago, from even before the fight, to when things were still solid between the two of you.

Walks in the park after a long shift, hands intertwined as he poked fun at you for your decisions during a shift. The nights spent in bed, room slightly too cold because otherwise you'd burn up with his body heat. Even on the days when it was hard, when his active duty days caught up to him, there was still something to have, because he'd let you hold him, let himself talk and talk about the people and the days of roughing it, of the bad things he saw, of the pain of a leg that was no longer attached to his physical being.

"Kid, I gotta let Gloria know by tonight. Are you back?" Robby's voice broke through the speaker with a crack of static.

"Of course I am Robby."

Now you were running through the airport, hair a mess, sanity hardly in tact. Cassie had been kind enough to come grab you after dropping off Harrison with Chad for the weekend. Today and tomorrow would be your days to get settled, then straight back to it on Monday.

"I've missed you so much!" She squealed, arms wrapped around your center tightly. "You have no idea how much it sucks to have to take on that waiting room with myself and Javadi." She laughs.

"Oh I bet, what would you ever do without me?" You laughed. You held her tight before you both crawled into the car. She started the engine, waving off some security yelling at her and took off.

"How was it?" She asks, face covered in excitement.

"It was amazing Cassie. The people, the pace, the location, all of it was just-perfect." You sigh and throw your head back. "I think it was exactly what I needed."

"That's great." She says. Her tone tells you that there's something else, something on her mind that she isn't saying out loud.

It takes about three minutes of uncomfortable silence and a red traffic light for her to turn to you. "Have you talked to him?"

Cassie was one of about four people who definitely knew what was going on between you and Jack, one of a few who knew lengths you'd go for one another. Her tone is soft, prodding but not overstepping.

"No, Cass I...I didn't want to do anything that might...I don't know, hurt more than it already would?" You sighed. You covered your face with your hands. "I felt horrible, for taking off on him the way I did. But I just...I knew that he'd make me stay."

Cass nods along, listening. She takes your hands in hers, holding it softly over the center console. She doesn't push or try to interject her own thoughts about the whole thing into your mind. She knows you well enough to know that no decision you made came lightly, that it took hours and hours of thought and careful planning.

The light turns green and the car starts moving again. "You don't have to go back so soon. You can stay with Harrison and I if you want to." Cass offers, a small glint in her eyes.

You take a moment to consider before looking out the window. "I need to go back Cass. To my home, to my stuff. I need to go back to him. I ran once but I'm ready. I finally feel ready to face what we left behind." You smile, hands gripping the door handle a bit too tight.

Cass nods and hums. "Just know I'm there. If you need me."

And that's what the conversation is left at. Fifteen minutes later your left staring at your building. Cass offered to go upstairs with you, but you'd elected to face it all yourself.

There were two options that stood in front of you. One, Jack was home, asleep, getting ready to head to bed and face another grueling night shift. The blackout curtains would be drawn and the apartment quiet. Would the floorboards remember your steps or creak under the unfamiliar weight of your long lost body? Maybe they would, and then they'd wake him, and you'd have to explain the last five months of your life to him while he was half asleep.

The other option was simple, he wasn't home, maybe getting groceries before he inevitably came home to crash out on the couch. It had irked you so much when you first started dating. The way he'd get off a few hours before you and offer to do the shopping, just for you to come home and find him asleep in the most neck sore position possible, jacket barely off, jeans twisted too tightly across his legs. But eventually it became a comfort, the way you could rouse him and make him follow you to bed, where you'd help him take off his prosthetic, rip off his scrubs in return for a clean shirt and pj pants. Or sometimes when you were both so tired after a rough day you could snuggle yourself between his arms, him hardly waking up, but still opening his strong arms so you could press against his chest.

And you find yourself hoping it can be like those distant couch sleeps. That he'll be there, asleep on the couch, and you can just lay with him, head pressed against his chest, snuggled right below his chin as his fingers splay over the middle of your back, gripping you as to not let you disappear again.

So when you turn your key into the lock, you take a deep breath. With the click sounding, you push the door open. You roll your suitcase in first, setting it to the side. Then you pause, listening. There's silence, and for a moment you think you're safe. The buzz of the AC when it clicks on startles you, but not as much as the man standing before you.

Jack stands near the couch, hand holding on to it, like he might fall over. He wears a tight black tee, some washed jeans and his tennis shoes. When you finally meet his eyes you see something, a glint of pain? Maybe sadness, maybe shock. His hair is slightly longer along the sides, his facial hair a bit more clean shaven than the stubble you had last seen him in. He doesn't move, neither do you. Its like the saddest cowboy stand off you've ever witnessed.

The click of the door behind you finally breaks the silence. You take a step forward, placing your keys down on the entry table. You can't tear your eyes from his. You wish you could read his face, know where to start on the long list of apologies and begging of forgiveness.

"I know you probably hate me. I know you maybe wish I would have never come back. And I know when I left we were in a bad position, a position that I never wanted to be at with you." Jack opens his mouth to say something, but you're quick to silence him with a raise of your hand.

"But I'm here. I'm here because I love you. Because I never wanted to leave in the first place. And you are the first stable thing I've had in my life since med school." A sudden hiccup burst from you, followed by tears. You couldn't stop it. In an instant your face was crumpled, warm, tears spilling from your eyes.

"Sweetheart..." Jack mutters, marching towards you until his arms swaddled your frame, arms pressing tight around your ribs, fingers grasping at your hair. His face pressed deeply against the crown of your head, and his chest pressed perfectly against your ear until you could hear the thumping of his heart.

"Jack Abbott you— God you fucking took my life and put it back together in ways I didnt think possible. You showed me that I could be loved. I was worthy of love and attention."

You pulled away, Jack's arms still resting across your waist, fingers digging in, as though fully releasing you would mean you walking out the front door forever this time.

"And I ran. I ran because I was so fucking scared that you'd wake up and decide that I wasn't worthy, that you didn't need to be here. And I wouldn't be able to handle that." You glanced at him, and while your vision remained slightly blurred, you found that he was already looking back at you. For a moment you thought pity might be the thing coursing through his dark eyes, but you realized it wasn't even close. It was more like concern, fear.

"I picked that fight because I thought it was the only way to get you to leave. But you didn't. You refused to leave, to give in. And that made me mad." You laugh, wiping your face. Jack cracks a smile, followed by a small chuckle of his own.

"You made me mad because instead of doing what everyone else has done, you planted your feet. And that made me the most scared." You said, staring down at the ground. Jack gave you a moment to collect yourself, and when it seemed your breathing had finally calmed a bit, he took your hands in his, fingers intertwining with his own, his calloused palms pushing against yours.

"I planted my feet because I knew exactly what you were doing." He says, soft, speaking more into your hair than into the open space around you two.

"It was a stupid battle, and you're not stupid, so of course I knew what you were doing. Because I know you, sweetheart." he chuckles a little, the sound vibrating in his throat. "And more importantly, I planted my feet because I wanted to stay. You have never ever been anything short of the most beautiful, loving, smartest, strongest woman in my life. You are the best thing I've had in years." He sighed, his hand lefts yours as it moved up your arm, until it fell onto your jaw, guiding your eyes to his.

"And you put me back together. And I love you for that." He finishes. Neither of you two move, letting each others words swell around your embrace.

Your eyes drop to his lips, soft and kind. He doesn't hesitate, pulling you against him, letting your lips grace each others for the first time in months. You sigh, pressing your body against his. He holds you close as you two drink each other in.

Eventually he pulls away, rests his forehead against yours.

"I've missed you."

ϟ.·:¨༺ ♡ ༻¨:·.ϟ

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Asshole (John Walker)

Description: Y/N hates John but he and everyone else are convinced that it’s just sexual frustration.

Warning: Smut, Breeding Kink, Hate Fucking

Word Count: 2,850

“I CANNOT STAND HIM AVA HE’S SO ANNOYING AND HE’S SUCH A-” Ava interrupts her, “Yet you still wanna fuck him.” She said and Y/N gave her a nasty look, “What?” She asked like it was the craziest thing Ava’s ever said. Ava smirked at her friend, “You still wanna fuck him though. All this hate you have towards him is just pent up sexual frustration.” She points out. Y/N would never admit it, not in a million years that she wants to fuck him, not even to her best friend.

“Sounds ridiculous! Do you not hear what I was saying?” Ava laughed and nodded her head, “Yes but I don’t think you actually hate him.” Ava has listened to Y/N bitch and moan about him since they became the new Avengers but she wasn’t blind. Y/N may say that she hates John but her eyes tell a different story. Y/N loved to stare at John while he trained and worked out, she loved to check him out when he was shirtless or in his suit that made his ass look great.

She thought she was hiding it pretty well but she wasn’t, not to Ava at least. “Whatever.” Y/N rolled her eyes and left the room. “So even Ava can see how bad you wanna fuck me.” Y/N nearly jumped when she heard his voice behind her. She turned to see her mortal enemy with a cocky smirk, that she just wanted to wipe off his face. “Excuse me?” She asked, glaring at him. “Even Ava can see that you wanna fuck me.” He repeated and it made her more mad than the first time he said it. “I certainly don’t wanna fuck you. You’re just cocky.” She told him and turned to keep walking. “Keep telling yourself that.” He said as she walked away. Oh she would. 

John and Y/N both cooked so they split the days, John cooked on the weekdays and Y/N cooked Friday, Saturday and Sunday. “I cook more because I’m better than you.” He would tell her and each time she would cook she would mumble under her breath on how that wasn’t true. It was Friday so Y/N was cooking and everyone respected her “Nobody in the kitchen while I cook rule.” besides one person, John. He just loved to annoy her and get her riled up. “John, get out!” She exclaimed as John walked in and commented on how she was seasoning the chicken.

“I’m just say-” She interrupted him, “I don’t care what you’re saying! Leave.” He would just smirk at her outbursts, loving that he could get her riled up like that. John took his water and left the kitchen, leaving Y/N trying to control her anger towards the guy. Y/N served the food an hour later and everyone enjoyed it, “This is good!” Alexei exclaimed. “Nice work.” Bucky smiled at her. Everyone was super nice with their words except one person, John. “The chicken needs more seasoning and the mashed potatoes need more butter.” He said and Y/N nearly growled.

“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.” She said, calmly not even looking at him. “It’s great, Y/N.” Bob told her and Y/N gave him a smile, “Thank you Bob and to everyone except John.” She gave everyone a nice smile besides him. “What can’t take criticism?” He asked and she sighed. “You are just being an asshole.” She said and took a bite of the chicken that taste very good. John thought so too but he would never admit it. “I just think that you hate that I’m not all over you.” Yelena gave John a weird look.

Y/N chuckled and looked over at him, “I just hate that you still talk to me.” She bites back and Bucky holds in a laugh. “Right, you don’t want me to talk to you but you want me to fuck you.” Y/N tried so hard to keep her cool around the others but he made that very difficult. “I DON’T WANT YOU TO FUCK ME!” She yelled and the others could feel the tension between them. “John just stop, you're being a dick.” Ava told him. 

“Y/N and John, you’ll be training together for the week.” Bucky announced and Y/N nearly died. “What?” She asked, “Why can’t I train with Ava or Yelena or anyone else?” She asked. “You just know that when he train together your want for me gets stronger.” John says and Y/N rolls her eyes. “No, it’s actually because I hate you.” She tells him and Bucky bites his lip. “Sorry, Ava asked to train with Yelena.” Y/N looked over at her friend who gave her a guilty smile, though she knew exactly why she did it.

“Bob?” “Training with me.” “Alexei?” “On vacation.” Y/N sighed, she forgot about his vacation. “It’s just training.” Bucky said and Y/N just walked away. It wasn’t but what was the point in arguing? She walked to the training room and waited for John who was taking his sweet ass time. 10 minutes later, John shows up in his suit. Y/N tries not to check him out, give him any leverage. “Finally!” She exclaimed and he set down his taco shield. “Relax, I just wanted to get all dolled up for you.” She wanted so bad to punch him in the face. She huffed and just ignored his smart ass comments.

“Is that the best you got?” He asked as they trained, she was doing a good job but since he was a super soldier he was better. She huffed and went to punch him in the face but his shield blocked it. She kicked him in the stomach and sent him flying backwards a little, “That was good.” He said and she kept trying to hit and kick him but he wasn’t letting her. “If we were actually fighting right now, I would win.” He tells her with a smirk. She tackled him to the ground and straddled him, “Say that again.” She tested him and he flipped them over.

“You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” He says as she tries to get him off her. He chuckles as she struggles, “Honestly, if you would just admit to it, I would gladly give you what you want. I mean think about it, I’m hot, you’re hot. The sex would be hot. But you’re too proud to admit it. I could have you cumming so hard in so many different ways.” He whispers in her ear, “Wanna know how’d I start?” He asked, “Get off me John.” She growled and he ignored her, “First I'd start by eating you out, right here, preferably you riding my face, gripping my hair while you moan my name like it’s the only word you know.”

She felt herself get wet at his words as she stopped struggling, “Then after I make you cum, I would fuck you. I’d fuck you until you were full of my seed and pregnant with my baby.” He placed a hand on her stomach, “Cuz I wanna see you nice and full with my baby.” What the fuck? She thought as he spoke. Why was this so hot? “I wanna make you cum every morning and every night, I wanna make you scream, cry and beg for my cock.” He said as his hand got closer and closer to her aching pussy.

He watched as she bit her lip, trying to hide how turned on she was which made him chuckle. “Just give me permission baby. That’s all you have to do.” He tells her and it’s like a battle in her brain that she’s lost, “John, please.” She nearly whimpers out and he smirks, his hand going inside her pants feeling how wet she was. She was soaked, embarrassedly soaked. “Do you like that? The idea of me fucking you over and over again until you’re dripping with my cum?” He asked as he swiped over her pussy with his fingers, “Yes.” She cried out, softly as she felt his fingers rub her clit.

She had never been more turned on in her life than she was right now. The sound of her wetness as he played with her pussy proved that. He moved down her body so he could pull off her pants and panties, “Fuck.” He whispered at the sight of her pussy, it was leaking onto the floor of the training room. He laid down so he was face to face with her pussy, blowing on it causing her to gasp. He looked up at her to see her propped up on her elbows watching him. He shoved his gorgeous face in her pussy, getting it all wet with her juices.

She leaned her head back and let out a loud moan, not caring who hears. His hands placed on both her thighs as he licked and sucked on her clit. The coldness of the floor made her shiver or maybe that was him doing that. She looked down to see his eyes closed as he focused on giving her pleasure and that was so hot. She wanted to thrust up so bad and hump his face but he had a grip on her thighs to keep her in place. She watched as he made out with her pussy until her eyes rolled back and her elbows could no longer hold her up.

Her hands gripped his hair, hard, tugging it as he brought her closer and closer to her orgasm, “John.” She whimpered and he groaned against her at the tugging. Her body tried to move on its own but he wouldn’t let her, “Please.” She cried, wanting nothing more than to hump his face. He chuckled against her, causing vibrations that made her gasp. The taste of her pussy was so hot and made him very hard. His hips started humping the floor as he fell into the taste of her pussy, “Taste so fucking good.” He groaned, his breath all over her wetness.

She loved the praise and arched her back as he kept tonguing her clit. “C-Close.” She tried to get out, feeling her orgasm near. He was amazing at this, so good and was about to make her black out from pleasure. “Cum for me.” He demanded as he sped up his movements. She didn’t need to be told twice as her hands gripped his hair as she let out a loud wailing sound as her orgasm took over her body, “Good fucking girl.” John mumbled as he slowed his movements. He finally let her hump his face as she sobbed.

He pulled away and his face was a mess, his beard nearly drenched in her cum, eyes blown from lust and lips swollen. She finally got the courage to open her eyes and look at him and she nearly came again, he looked perfect. It took all her strength to lean up and kiss him, moaning at the taste of herself on his lips. He kissed back and began removing his suit. Her needy hands helped him as they kissed, “Fuck me, please.” She begged against his lips. He helped her pull off her top and bra, “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He hummed and pushed her to lie back again, “I can’t wait to fuck you full.” He groaned as he jerked himself a few times before rubbing his dick against her hole.

She held a breath in as she felt the tip of his dick teasing her, “Bet you’re so tight and ready for me.” He said and she sighed in pleasure. He pushed himself in her slowly watching her face form in a pleasure state. Her jaw was dropped as she tried to hold back noise as he stretched her out. He was big, bigger than anyone she’s ever been with. “You’re so big.” She moaned as her walls clenched around him causing him to bite his lip. His hand grabbed her throat, “I’m perfect for you.” He groans as he bottoms out. Her eyes stared up at him, no thoughts behind them.

She looked drunk, “Pretty girl already so fucked out.” He said and moved his hips. Her eyes rolled as those sweet pathetic noises left her mouth. His other hand played with her tits, “So perfect.” She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the noises she was making or her tits but she was too lost to care. His hips teased her for a while, rocking slow but deep. “John.” She whispered, wanting nothing more than for him to speed up and fuck her like he hates her. He smirked and leaned down, running his tongue over her lips, “Trust me baby, I plan to breed you for the rest of the day.” He tells her and his hips pick up speed.

The pathetic whimpers she was making turned into moans that were loud and needy. John growled at the way her pussy was tightening around him, “Making sure I never leave, pretty girl?” He teased as he grabbed one of her legs and lifted it over his shoulder. The angle was otherworldly for her as he started really fucking her. His hips pistoled into hers, causing a loud slapping noise that nearly covered her moans. Her wetness could be heard through the room as well, turning him on even more.

“Fuck, you feel perfect.” He growled and all she could do was moan in response. Her hands reached up to grab at him and he chuckled, taking her hands in his and pinning them beside her head. John groaned above her and watched her face, never wanting to take his eyes off of her. She was beautiful, looked like an angel as he fucked her. He watched as her lips silently said his name, as if she couldn’t actually say it.

“Scream it baby. What’s stopping you?” He asked as he changed the angle a bit. She didn’t care who heard them at this point and screamed his name, close to her orgasm. He felt her pussy go crazy around him and he chuckled, “Are you close?” He asked and slowed his hips, causing her to whine. That made John’s eyes roll as he nearly came. “Tell me you want me to get you pregnant and I’ll let you cum.” He says, breathlessly. She moaned as she felt her orgasm about to come, “I-I want you to get me pregnant, John.” She cried out and he hummed, satisfied with her words.

“Cum for me.” He tells her and she doesn’t need to be told twice. Her back arches and her thighs tremble as she cums, her orgasm hitting her in waves as she sobs. The sight alone made John cum with a grunt, thrusting his cum in her as they rode out their highs. Y/N felt like she could barely breathe as she came down, her hands letting his go as her head fell to the side, her eyes still closed. “I’m not done with you yet.” He tells her and flips her over, causing her eyes to widen.

She was so tired after 2 orgasms but she knew that John wasn’t lying when he said that they would be going for the rest of the day. “John.” She cried as he pounded her again, this time not teasing her. His hands gripped her hips so tight that she was definitely going to bruise. Her hands laid flat on the floor, nails trying to dig in. “Perfect little pussy.” He growled as one of his hands wrapped itself in her hair and pulled her up to his chest. He leaned in and kissed her neck, hiding his moans as hers were plenty.

She bit her lip and sighed, John’s lips attacked her neck, definitely leaving marks. The hand that was gripping her hair moved down her torso to her clit. She gasped his name loudly as he rubbed her there, “Fuck.” She whined and he chuckled against her neck, “Look so pretty.” He mumbled and all she could hear was his breathing and his hips snapping into hers. Her legs shook and if he wasn’t holding her to his body she would probably fall over.

Her third orgasm was approaching, “John, I’m close.” She whimpered and he nodded against her neck. His eyes nearly rolled as he felt her pussy go crazy around him. He deemed that this was his new favorite feeling in the world. Her hand gripped his that was rubbing her cunt and she nearly fell over as she came.

He held her tight as she came so she wouldn’t fall as he slowed his hips, helping her ride out her orgasm. His hips picked up again, chasing his orgasm as she whined from the overstimulation. “Almost there, baby. Fuckin’ pussy is too perfect.” He slurred his words. It wasn’t too long before he thrusted hard on her and she felt his cum fill her up. Her head fell back against his shoulder, “You’re still an asshole.” She mumbled and he chuckled, “I’m your asshole.”

[theonottsbxtch]

BACK TO FRIENDS | OP81

an: this was a request by a friend of mine, well only the song so before you start haring HATE HER NOT ME

wc: 2.7k

OSCAR NEVER SHOULD HAVE LET HER IN.

The champagne from the podium had barely dried on his race suit when she slipped into his hotel room, wearing his old team hoodie like it still belonged to her. Maybe, for a moment, he let himself believe it did. Maybe that was why, when she reached for him, he didn’t pull away.

Now, the early morning light crept through the curtains, soft and unforgiving, illuminating the tangled mess of sheets that no longer held her warmth. She was already standing by the mirror, zipping up her dress with that same detached precision he’d seen too many times before—when she’d pack her bags, when she’d walk away, when she’d pretend this meant nothing.

He propped himself up on one elbow, watching as she fixed her hair, gaze locked on her own reflection rather than him.

"You’re leaving," he said, voice hoarse. It wasn’t a question.

"You knew this didn’t change anything," she murmured, still not turning around. "We agreed."

We agreed. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Because once, there had been no need for agreements between them. Once, she had been his best friend. His only constant in a world that never stopped moving. Now, she wouldn’t even look at him.

"How can you do this whole thing" he said, quieter this time, "best friends in public as if we didn't fuck the night before."

She stilled, just for a moment. A hesitation. But when she finally turned to face him, her expression was unreadable. Indifferent. Like she had already put distance between them, even though she was still standing there.

"It’s just how it has to be, Oscar," she said, as if that was enough. As if those words weren’t a knife in his ribs.

He sat up properly, gripping the sheets to keep his hands from reaching for her. Stupid, really, how after all these years he still wanted to chase after her, even when she always walked away first.

She stepped towards the door, and he knew he could stop her. He had taken impossible corners at impossible speeds—what was one more risk? But he didn’t move. He just watched as she opened the door, stepping into the hallway like she hadn’t just wrecked him all over again.

The door clicked shut behind her.

For the first time in his life, Oscar wasn’t sure if he’d recover from this crash.

He didn’t move for a long time.

The sheets had long gone cold, but he still sat there, fingers curled into the fabric like it could somehow hold onto the night before. As if it could prove it had happened at all. But the only proof left was the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air and the dull ache in his chest.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, shattering the quiet. He forced himself to look at it, already knowing what he’d see.

PR Debrief – 9 AMMedia – 10 AMTeam Briefing – 11:30 AM

Business as usual. No time to dwell. No time to feel.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed the covers aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, planting his feet on the carpet. His body protested—aching muscles, bruises from a near-miss in yesterday’s race, exhaustion from weeks of relentless travelling. But none of it compared to the weight pressing against his ribs.

Dragging himself to the bathroom, he barely recognised the man staring back at him in the mirror. Dark circles under his eyes, jaw tense, hair a mess from restless sleep—if he even got any at all. He turned on the tap, splashing cold water over his face, as if it would wake him up from whatever spell she had put him under. But he knew better.

This wasn’t something he could just shake off.

By the time he pulled on his team polo and a fresh pair of jeans, the sun had fully risen, and with it, the world outside came alive. The familiar sound of trolley wheels rolling through the hallway, distant chatter from staff, the low hum of engines being prepped at the circuit down the road. The race weekend was over, but the machine never stopped.

Neither could he.

Still, as he stepped into the corridor, he hesitated. His hand tightened around the door handle, as if half-expecting to see her just outside, waiting for him like she used to. But the hallway was empty.

Of course it was.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Oscar exhaled sharply and made his way towards the lift. He knew how this went. Knew the script by heart.

He’d get through today. He’d put on the easy grin for the cameras, give the sponsors what they wanted, act like nothing was wrong. And when she walked into the paddock, all effortless poise and carefully constructed distance, he’d pretend he wasn’t still watching her. Pretend he hadn’t spent the night memorising the way she felt against him.

Pretend he didn’t want to do it all over again.

The paddock was already buzzing by the time Oscar arrived. Engineers hurried between the garages, mechanics huddled over half-assembled cars, and team personnel weaved through the chaos with clipboards and coffees in hand. It was always the same the day after a race—one team celebrating, another regrouping, everyone already thinking about the next circuit.

Oscar had barely set foot in the hospitality area when he felt the shift in the air. It was subtle—just a few lingering glances, a hushed murmur between two media interns—but he didn’t need to turn around to know why. He felt her before he saw her.

She had arrived.

He stole a glance over his shoulder, and there she was, stepping into the paddock like she belonged there. And in a way, she did.

They had grown up in places like this, back when the paddock smelled more like petrol and sweat than luxury cologne, when the only thing that mattered was who was fastest on track. Back when she was his best friend, before things got complicated.

She looked completely at ease. As if last night had never happened.

Oscar forced himself to look away.

He was halfway through his first coffee when someone from the media team caught up with him.

“Oscar, got a minute?”

He turned, offering a tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“We’re filming some content today for the socials—just a lighthearted thing, some fun clips. And, well… since you and her go way back, we thought it’d be great to get you two together. Bit of nostalgia, childhood friends, all that.”

Oscar felt his jaw tighten. “You want us to film something together?”

“Yeah, nothing serious! Just a little throwback video—maybe some old karting stories, a couple of friendly challenges. Fans love that stuff.”

He hesitated. Every part of him wanted to say no. But then he caught sight of her again, standing by her team’s motorhome, talking to someone like she wasn’t aware of the way his world had tilted off its axis last night.

Fine. If she could act like nothing had happened, so could he.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, plastering on his media-trained smile. “Let’s do it.”

The camera was rolling, and Oscar had no choice but to play along.

They sat side by side in the media pen, a tablet between them as they reacted to old photos—grainy karting pictures, podium shots with oversized trophies, one from a race where she had shoved him off track and he had stormed off in a sulk.

She laughed at that one. “You were such a sore loser.”

He smirked. “Still am.”

It was easy, in a way. The banter, the teasing—it was familiar. A script they had both known since childhood. But underneath it, Oscar felt the strain. Every time their hands brushed, every time she smiled at him like they hadn’t just been tangled up in each other the night before, it chipped away at him.

They filmed a quickfire Q&A next.

“Who was faster in karting?”

“Me,” they said at the same time, then shot each other a look.

“Who was the bigger troublemaker?”

She pointed at him. He pointed at her. The camera crew laughed.

And then, finally—

“Who won your first-ever race together?”

Oscar opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“I did.” She grinned. “Oscar binned it in the final lap.”

He rolled his eyes. “I had a mechanical issue.”

“That’s what they all say.”

The filming wrapped up soon after. The media team thanked them, and she stood, stretching as if shaking off the whole thing.

Oscar saw his chance.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Can we talk?”

She barely looked at him. “I’ve got a briefing, first F1 Academy race next week.”

“Two minutes.”

She was already shaking her head, already glancing over her shoulder.

“Please.” The word slipped out before he could stop it.

Something flickered across her face then, something he couldn’t quite place. But she just exhaled softly, offered him a small, almost apologetic smile, and said—

“Not now, Oscar.”

Then she was gone.

And he was left standing there, fists clenched, watching her walk away for the second time in twenty-four hours.

Oscar barely made it to his driver room before the exhaustion hit.

The small space was dimly lit, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound as he dropped onto the leather sofa with a heavy sigh. His head fell back against the cushion, eyes shutting for just a moment. He needed to get his shit together. One more media appearance, a debrief, and then he could disappear for the rest of the evening.

Maybe he’d go for a run. Maybe he’d sit in the simulator until his brain stopped thinking about her. Maybe he’d just stare at the ceiling until it was time to do it all over again before his flight tomorrow morning.

The door swung open with zero warning.

Lando strolled in like he owned the place, a Capri Sun in his hand, oversized McLaren hoodie engulfing him. He was the complete opposite of Oscar in every way—louder, messier, the kind of person who made himself at home wherever he went.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando said around the straw in his mouth, giving Oscar a once-over. “You look like shit.”

Oscar let out a slow breath, tilting his head to the side but not bothering to open his eyes. “Nice to see you too, mate.”

Lando didn’t reply straight away. Instead, he let the silence stretch, the sound of him sipping obnoxiously from the Capri Sun filling the room.

Then, just as Oscar knew he would—

“You saw her last night again, didn’t you?”

Oscar stiffened. “What?”

Lando just stared at him, unimpressed. “Don’t piss about, mate. I’ve known you three years. I know that face.”

Oscar forced a scoff, pushing himself up on the sofa and stretching his arms. “Dunno what you’re on about.”

Lando raised a brow. “Right. So you’re telling me you look that miserable just because of a media debrief?”

“I’m not miserable.”

Lando smirked, taking another sip. “Yeah, and I’m world champion.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. He should’ve known better than to think he could play it off. Lando had been his teammate since he was twenty, and despite the two-year age gap, he had slotted himself into the role of an unofficial older brother from the very first season.

And older brothers were annoying as fuck.

Lando sighed, finally dropping onto the chair opposite. “Listen, mate. I’m not gonna sit here and give you some deep, emotional speech, because frankly, I can’t be arsed. But this?” He gestured vaguely at Oscar. “You’ve got to sort your head out. I’ve seen you drive through torrential rain, with half your front wing hanging off, and you didn’t look as wrecked as you do right now.”

Oscar stared at the floor, jaw tightening. He knew Lando wasn’t wrong. But knowing it didn’t make it easier.

After a moment, Lando’s tone softened. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Oscar swallowed. “It’s nothing.”

Lando scoffed. “Yeah? Well, ‘nothing’ is making you look like you’ve just been dumped, mate.”

Oscar let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Can’t get dumped if you were never together in the first place.”

That shut Lando up for a second. The silence hung between them, thick and heavy. Then, after a moment, Lando sighed and leaned back in his chair, tilting his head towards the ceiling.

“Yeah, well. She’s a fucking idiot.”

Oscar blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You heard me.” Lando sat up again, tossing the empty Capri Sun into the bin. “She’s a fucking idiot. And you’re an even bigger one if you keep letting her mess you up like this.”

Oscar didn’t respond. Because what was he supposed to say? That Lando was wrong? That this didn’t mean anything? That she hadn’t wrecked him last night?

They both knew better.

Lando sighed, standing up and stretching his arms. “Anyway. Media pen in twenty. Try not to look like someone ran over your cat, yeah?”

With that, he clapped Oscar on the shoulder and strolled out, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts and the fading scent of synthetic fruit juice.

Oscar leaned forward, elbows on his knees, dragging his hands down his face.

He needed to pull himself together.

But he wasn’t sure he knew how.

Oscar stayed where he was for a while longer, elbows braced against his knees, staring blankly at the floor. The room was quiet now, but his head wasn’t.

Lando was right—he needed to sort himself out. He was acting like a lovesick idiot, sitting in the dark like some tragic protagonist when he had a job to do. But knowing that didn’t change the way his chest felt too tight, like he’d been winded and hadn’t quite caught his breath since last night.

With a sharp exhale, he pushed himself up off the sofa and ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake it off. It didn’t work.

He checked his phone. Media pen in five minutes. Time to get it together.

The paddock was still busy as he stepped out, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the tarmac. People moved with purpose—engineers discussing data, team members rushing between garages, journalists hovering near the media zone. He kept his head down, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way towards the designated interview area.

And then he saw her.

She was standing near the hospitality suites, laughing at something, her head tilted back slightly. And the guy standing with her—tall, broad, someone from another team’s garage, maybe an engineer—was watching her like she was the only thing in the world worth looking at.

Oscar felt something sharp twist in his stomach.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he liked to entertain. He wasn’t that kind of person. But right now, as he watched her smile at someone else like she hadn’t spent the night tangled up with him, he felt it creeping in anyway.

His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to keep walking. He wasn’t going to do this. Wasn’t going to torture himself over something he had no claim to.

But then he noticed it.

The hoodie she was wearing wasn’t hers.

It wasn’t even team-issued.

It was his.

Not just some branded merch with the McLaren logo—one of his actual hoodies, one from his personal collection, from his brand. Faded black, slightly oversized, his driver number printed across the sleeve.

He felt sick.

She had taken it. At some point last night when he wasn’t looking. And now she was standing there, wearing it like it meant nothing, like it wasn’t another knife in his ribs, twisting deeper.

He dragged a hand over his mouth, looking away before he did something stupid, like march over there and demand to know what the hell she thought she was playing at.

Instead, he forced himself to keep walking.

The media pen was waiting. His job was waiting.

And if she wanted to keep wrecking him, she was doing a damn good job of it.

It's not like he could do anything.

After all, he loved her and she tolerated him outside of the track.

the end.

taglist: @dying-inside-but-its-classy @n0vazsq @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @dozyisdead @number-0-iz @curseofhecate @lilorose25 @iamred-iamyellow @iimplicitt @carlossainzapologist @skzvibes-blog

[crowsofdarkness]

The Void: One

-gif not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x BlackWidow!Enhanced!Reader

Content Warnings: violence, language, blood, angst, and 18+ smut.

Summary: Hydra used her as a weapon, then, becoming one of the original widows, Zima was ready to live the rest of her days in hiding. When someone from her Red Room past comes looking to cash in on a favor, she has no choice but to strap up to face this new enemy threatening New York. Even if one of the people asking for her help was the one who trained her in Hydra, the one whom she swore she would kill the next time she saw him. The Winter Soldier. The only problem? Bucky doesn't remember her.

Authors Note: this series will take place during Thunderbolts*, so I don't think it will be a long series. It is a reader insert, but "Zima" is the name she went by in the Red Room and Hydra due to her white hair. according to Google Translate, Zima means winter. tags are open!

Tags: @lisiliely @muchwita @tellybearryyyy @fries11 @multifandomgirl2018

Bucky let out a long sigh while pinching his eyes shut, the background chatter nearly grating on his ears. This was supposed to be a quick pick up and then he could bring this group of people back home so he could use them against Val in her trial. The jet was set to land in about five minutes but part of him feared he wouldn’t make it that long with all the chattering. Not to mention, his phone conversation with Mel and what Yelena had just finished telling him, Bucky’s mind was heavy with a new plan. 

“Alright, so explain this plan again,” Bucky said after freeing everyone. 

“Val has plans on using Bob as a new weapon. You didn’t see what we did, Bucky,” Yelena said with a voice thick of regret. “We need to stop Val and save Bob.” 

It was evident that she felt this need to protect Bob which is why Bucky ended up agreeing to this. Out of everyone in this new group, he only knew Walker and even then he was a bit hesitant to work with him. But he couldn’t simply walk away from this. Unfortunately for all of them, they were a group of rejects compared to the other heroes that had been attempting to save the world since The Avengers went their separate ways. At the thought of Steve, Bucky’s heart sank knowing that he would never see nor talk to his best friend again. 

It had been nearly five years since Steve left him and it was something Bucky was still dealing with. Yes, he had Sam but with him busy being the new Captain America, Bucky always found himself alone. He’d go home to his nice house in the quiet suburbs, stay in an empty house, and try not to let the past memories drag him down to the darkness. 

Bucky was so tired of being alone. So fucking tired of walking into an empty house with no one to talk with about his day. The cold bed and even colder atmosphere often reminded him of when Hydra would keep him frozen for long periods of time. Bucky wouldn’t admit this to anyone, let alone the Thunderbolts, but he was exhausted from pretending to be okay when the past began haunting him whenever he slept. 

For a long time, the nightmares of what he did in Hydra stopped. Until recently. About a month ago, they started up again only this time it wasn't what he did but more so, who he was with during that. Never once did he see a face, the only thing he saw was a shadow figure with white hair and piercing eyes. Every time he dreamed of this figure, their name would be on the tip of his tongue only never getting the chance to utter it because he woke up right before. There was this feeling of familiarity filling his heart whenever he awoke from one of those nightmares but whenever he tried to remember who this figure was, it was as if the memories locked themselves up into a vault. 

“How sure are you that we can stop Val and this Sentry?” Bucky asked with his hands low on hips, forcing himself not to think more of his lonely life at home. 

“Bob,” Yelena corrected. 

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Bob.” 

“He’s strong,” Ava said, everyone agreeing with her. “It’s going to be hard for all of us. If I’m being honest, I don’t think we’ll be able to do it with the five of us.”

“What do you mean? This is a team of super soldiers,” Walker said with a smug smile. 

Ava rolled her eyes. “Oh don’t flatter yourself.” 

As those two bickered with each other, Alexi couldn’t stop hiding his grin while he stared at everyone in this makeshift team. Yelena on the other hand, wore a frown so deep Bucky was afraid it would etch into her skin. She was pacing the length of the abandoned gas station garage while running a hand through her hair. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky questioned. 

“We need someone else, someone that can help us to save Bob,” she held up a finger, not stopping her pacing. 

“Do you know anyone? Maybe an old Avenger or something?” Walker asked, joining the conversation after bickering with Ava. 

Yelena shook her head. “No, not an old Avenger. But someone else.” 

Everyone waited for her to say who but Yelena kept pacing while muttering something under her breath. 

“The thing is, I haven’t spoken to her in years, not since I was in the Red Room. She was the only one of the widows that were enhanced which made her useful in certain situations. Not only that, she was the original widow. Dreykov brought her in after her old organization threw her out.” 

Something inside of Bucky fluttered but he quickly pushed down the unknown feeling as Alexi and Yelena shared a look, making Bucky shift on his feet. 

“What is it? What was her old organization?” 

Alexi ran a hand over his beard with a long sigh. “Maybe you should sit down, Bucky.”

“Who was her old organization?” He asked again, this time staring directly at Yelena. 

“Hydra,” she answered with zero hesitation. 

Bucky’s body went rigid as his vibranium arm began to burn at where the old, matted scars were on his shoulder. Granted some of his memories during his time in Hydra were still a jumbled mess inside of his head, he couldn’t ever recall someone else being held there with him so it had to have been on another Hydra base. One he wasn’t held at. 

Everyone fell silent for a moment before Alexi broke the silence. “Yelena, we’d be wasting time chasing a ghost. Zima has not been seen in over ten years, not since Dreykov died.” 

Zima. 

Bucky flinched at hearing the name, flash images of the shadow figure with white hair appeared in his line of vision, nearly knocking him on his ass. He held out a hand against the wall to his left to steady himself. He’d never heard of this name before so why did it feel like someone had been repeatedly stabbing his brain over and over again? With clenched teeth, Bucky rubbed his temples hoping that would ease away the growing headache. But the burning didn’t go away, it only got stronger the more they talked about Zima. 

“What’s to say this Zima chick will even help us?” Walker raised a good point, placing his shield over his back. 

“She owes me a favor,” Yelena shrugged as if she already knew this Zima would agree. 

When the burning finally subsided for a moment, Bucky slowly opened his eyes. “Do you even know where to find her?” 

“According to another widow, they saw her in a market square three weeks ago. Seems like she traded being a serial assassin for being a gardener.” 

Just then, their attention had been pulled to the large jet that landed right in the middle of the desert about twenty feet away from their hideout. Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek, debating on if this plan was a good idea. Even though he didn’t know who this Zima was, there was a pestering voice in his head telling him not to do it. 

“Do we even have time for a side quest?” Walker asked. 

“We have to make time if we want to stop Val and save Bob,” Yelena said as if we didn’t really have a choice. 

Opening the garage door, Bucky and the others gathered all of their things before walking towards the jet. 

“Back to D.C, Congressmen Barnes?” The pilot asked as he opened the ramp of the jet, allowing them inside. 

Bucky glanced over to Yelena who simply patted the pilot's chest. “Change of plans. We’re headed to Greece.”

READER A.K.A ZIMA

On a remote part of Gavdos island, south of Crete, Greece. 

I hummed a soft tune to myself as I worked tirelessly in my garden, the setting sun burning against my bare shoulders. My skin and clothes were covered in dirt and sweat. Thankfully I’d tied my long white hair back in a tight braid so it stayed out of my face, albeit a few strands had fallen free due to my constant work all day. The idea of washing away today’s filth and then sitting in front of the fireplace with my kindle brought a smile to my tired face. 

It’s the same thing I’ve done almost every day since I moved here about two years ago. Work on my small cottage style home on this hidden part of the island then reward myself with a good book. Every so often, I would venture out to the town whether it be to buy groceries or get a cup of coffee. But given where I came from and who I was, I opted not to be seen in public unless absolutely necessary. 

I’d been in hiding for the last ten years, moving every two so I wasn’t in the same place for long. I had a very heavy past, I hurt and killed many due to Dreykov’s orders, so I was sure someone would want revenge. Not to mention I’d run from Hydra before my time in the Red Room but with Dreykov, I’d been protected. When he died, that wasn’t the case anymore so I knew I needed to hide. I knew Hydra fell years ago but I couldn’t be too sure. 

By now, I would have moved to a different country to start a new life but as time went on here, I found myself building a life and a home. Something I hadn’t done in previous places. 

Rising from my garden, my old bones popped back into place as I stretched my tired limbs. Staring off into the distance, I could see the waves of the ocean lapping up against the beach that was just below the cliffs edge at my property. I was the only one living on this part of the island which while it did make for some lonely times, it was a peaceful solace. 

“Maybe I’ll go for a swim tomorrow,” I told myself before dusting my dirty hands on my grey overalls and began packing up all of my gardening tools. 

As I stepped out of my shed, something in the air felt off causing me to stiffen, the tips of my fingers burnings. Electricity charged then sparked to life creating lightning at my fingertips as I whirled around on my heels, coming face to face with someone I hadn’t seen in a very long time. 

“Well, good to know those still work.” 

I blinked with parted lips, trying to gather if the person in front of me was actually here. 

“Yelena?” I asked, still unsure. 

The blonde, with much shorter hair since I saw her last, smiled brightly at me. “Long time no see, Zima. How are things?” 

I shrugged, still letting the lightning charge my finger tips. “Can’t complain.” 

“Oh, I love fresh bread!” 

Snapping my head to the right, I glared at the person who stalked out of my house with a mouthful of fresh bread, the red leather suit three sizes too small for him. 

“The Red Guardian,” I clicked my tongue. “I didn’t realize this was a Red Room reunion. 10 years goes by so fast, huh?” 

Alexi sat down on one of the chairs on the front porch while Yelena took a tentative step closer towards me. She looked like she’d been through absolute hell and the exhaustion weighed heavy on her shoulders. 

“We need your help,” she said. 

The lightning charged even more now in my finger tips, crackling into the air. “Why the fuck would I help you?” 

“You owe me a favor and you were always good at returning those favors,” she stated matter of factly. 

I cursed, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Back when we were in the Red Room together, Yelena helped me with something I refused to talk about even to this day. I told her if she ever needed my help, I’d be there no questions asked. 

I just didn’t think it would take her ten years to cash in on that favor. I thought she’d forgotten by now, given everything that happened with Natasha. Even though I’d been in hiding, I still kept up to date with current events like her sister dying and the snap. Thankfully, I’d been one who survived the snap. 

Letting out a breath, I curtly nodded, ready to agree but halted for a moment. “You said we. As in you and Alexi?” 

“No,” Alexi chuckled, wiping the crumbs off his lap. “We as in the Thunderbolts.” 

I raised a brow, looking back at Yelena, who was trying her hardest not to hide her face behind her hands. 

"The Thunderbolts?” I questioned. 

All of a sudden, the lightning at my fingertips seemed to have intensified when an all too familiar presence loomed behind me. I knew this presence anywhere. I’d spent countless nights with this presence during my time in Hydra. My powers were created in order to bring this presence his deepest pain. This presence was the sole reason why I ran from Hydra. 

Turning swiftly on my heels, I locked eyes with the familiar pair of blue ones that belonged to The Winter Soldier. 

“Hi,” he gave me a small smile. “I’m Bucky-.” 

Before he could finish his sentence, I shot him with a large strip of lightning, it bouncing off of his vibranium arm and lighting up the now dark skies. 

[finelinevogue]

i’m happy

summary - the thought of bucky having a relationship with someone that’s not you is… horrible

pairing - bucky barnes x bff!reader

word count - ~1k

You slipped the straps of the red, satin, dress onto your shoulders, taking a breath as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Your hands ran over the front of your dress to check for any creases.

You wanted to look perfect tonight.

Tonight, Bucky was hosting a fancy party to celebrate retiring as a congressman. He enjoyed it - kind of - whilst he had it but now he’s back to being an Avenger he hasn’t got the tome.

You, being Bucky’s best friend, obviously had an invite and you wanted to look fabulous for him. If not to show his colleagues that you’re worth something, then to attempt to tease Bucky into wanting something more than friendship with you.

Bucky cleared his throat behind you.

You didn’t have to turn around to know that it had been him, but you were still taken away by his beauty when you did.

He was wearing a two-piece suit with a bow tie. He looked clean and so smart. His hair, although he’d clearly styles it, was starting to gain little curls throughout from the heat of summer.

His smile though.

“Hey.” You smiled.

“Hey.”

“How do I look?” You looked down at your dress sheepishly.

“Like you’d rather be in your pyjamas watching a movie.” He chuckled, letting show those dimples you adore. Your heart stopped beating for a moment at the sight of him.

You chuckled back, “Well…” You weren’t quite sure what to say, so you wandered over to your bed to collect your purse instead. “Let’s get going shall we?”

You flicked off the bathroom light and turned on your bedside lamp for later. Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked over to where Bucky was standing in the doorway.

“Hey.” Bucky said softly, making you stop in your tracks just before him, “You look…” He smiled with those soft eyes, “You look beautiful.”

You blushed and bowed your head to regroup yourself, before looking at him again, “Thank you, Buck.” You leant up to kiss his cheek, “So do you.”

🎇

You were standing to the side as you watched Bucky walk down the red carpet and have his photo taken.

He looked a little uncomfortable with all the attention and flashing lights. More than once he had looked back to find you, only for you to give him a little smile of encouragement for him to keep going. He would always smile back and look ready to return to the craze after seeing you.

Unfortunately you weren’t having the greatest time as you were left with Bucky’s new boss, Valentina, and her assistant, Mel.

Valentina nudged you to get your attention.

“Sorry?” You missed what she had said.

“It’s interesting the way you look at him.”

“It is?” You swallowed your nerves.

You thought you were subtle about the way you looked at him with adoration, but maybe you weren’t as careful as you thought.

“It’s even more interesting that I didn’t need to tell you who I was talking about.” She gave you a tight lipped smile.

Fuck.

You smiled to play it off, before returning your gaze to the carpet.

“Mel.” Valentina called. You watched Mel hand Valentina an iPad with a page open on something. “You are Bucky’s “best friend” are you not?”

You looked at Valentina to see she was speaking to you.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“Good. Then you can help me decide who to have Bucky date next.” She smiled an evil smile, leaving you no time to decompress the information.

“I’m… s-sorry what?”

What?

Bucky… dating… Hm?

“Yeah. Bucky needs some arm candy now that he’s in the public eye. What do you think?”

Valentina showed you the iPad and the girl on the screen looked the opposite of you and she looked so beautiful. In fact she could be a goddess for all you know.

The thought of Bucky with some… goddess, though. You couldn’t fake a smile over that thought.

Bucky was your best friend but you wished he could be so much more than that. You craved something more with him. You craved him in a way you hadn’t yet known him. You wanted him in a way that meant he couldn’t be with anyone in the same way.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Would she be a good fit?”

“I.. I don’t know.”

“Oh. I thought you were supposed to be his beat friend?” Valentina taunted you.

You knew what game she was playing, because she must have seen the way you were looking at Bucky.

You gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded a goodbye.

Trying not to be upset about the thought of Bucky with another woman was the nail in the coffin to you accepting that you like like him.

As you walked away from the red carpet, Valentina and even Bucky you couldn’t help but feel very small in one of the largest cities.

🎇

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the end of the red carpet.” Bucky weaved his hand around your arm.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, honey.” He furrowed his eyebrows like you’d just said the silliest thing ever.

“Okay.” You gave him a pretend smile.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you.

“I’m okay.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You looked down at your feet, which were only a few centimetres apart from each other.

You felt Bucky’s hand slightly tighten in order to pull you into a small alcove that was out of sight from the rest of the room.

“Wha—.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, please.” He dipped his head to try and catch your eyes, because he knew that when he catches them he’ll have you hook, line and sinker.

You bravely looked up into his bluey eyes.

You bit your lip to keep you from spilling everything your heart wanted you to. Bucky’s eyes saddened at the sight of you struggling to talk to him.

“You can tell me anything.” He said quietly.

You nodded, not looking away from him.

“I’ll be worrying about you all night if you don’t tell me darling.” Bucky’s hand trails down your arm to your hand, never leaving your skin untouched. His hand clasped to yours and gave it a tight squeeze to silently let you know that he was right here.

“I… It’s…”

You groaned to yourself, turning away from his gaze only to feel the cool metal of Bucky’s fingers on your cheek pulling you back.

Ring.

Bucky’s phone decided to ring at that moment, but he didn’t pay it any attention. His whole gaze was on you and it wasn’t leaving until you told him you were okay or what was bothering you.

“C’mon honey.”

“It’s Valentina.” You sighed.

Bucky’s hand let go of your face but not your hand.

“Okay?”

“She is setting you up with a fake pr relationship going forward.”

“A fake… What?” Bucky let go of your hand to throw his arms in the air in protest. “Bullshit.”

“Bucky…” You sighed.

“No. This is… I mean… Relationship?” Bucky scoffed.

“You don’t even know who it might be yet. All you can do is give it a try.”

“I don’t want to try.”

“You don’t want to try and be in a relationship?” You tried to understand what he was saying.

“No! I don’t want to be in a relationship if it’s not with you!”

You gasped.

What?

Is your best friend saying what you think he’s saying?

“Buck…”

“Fuck… I didn’t mean to tell you like that..” He ran a stressed hand through his hair, looking less angry than he did moments before. “Y/N I…”

You crossed the distance between him and you within a second, cupping both of his cheeks with your hands and pulling him down until his lips met yours.

His lips were soft against yours but it was clear that he wasn’t at all prepared for you to pull that move.

Your lips left his after a couple seconds.

Fuck.

Did he not mean it?

You opened your lips to apologise profusely, but before you could speak Bucky’s lips were on yours. This time the kiss was much more. There was much more passion and lust pushed into every bit of it.

Bucky gripped your jaw on either side as if you might try and escape. He held you so close as he kissed you as if you were a mission he was dead set on completing.

He smelt intoxicating. He was wearing the perfume you’d bought him a few years ago and ever since then he’d restocked for himself.

His lips though…

The kiss was bruising and all-consuming. You couldn’t breathe but you didn’t care, especially when Bucky tilted your head to the side slightly to deepen his angle of the kiss.

You tried to pull back to gain a breath but Bucky whined and only pulled you closer. He breathed you in as his mouth encased yours once more, pressing his nose against yours and giving you everything he had.

Only then did he let you back an inch.

You breathed out a hearty laugh, making him laugh too and go back for another long kiss. Your lips smacked as they untouched.

You brought up a hand to touch his against your jaw, rubbing your thumbs carefully over his skin and metal. He moved to tilt his forehead against yours carefully.

“Tell Valentina to fuck herself, because I’m happy with my girl in front of me.” Bucky laughed.

“Okay.” You nodded acceptingly.

Bucky kissed you again just because he could.

“And for the record, I’m happy too.”

[phosphorusab]

Thinking about how despite needing to be invited in, Remmick always forces himself into where he is explicitly not allowed. He doesn’t understand racial tensions in Jim Crow Mississippi but also can’t comprehend Normal Fucking Boundaries. He hasn’t been human for so long that he either forgot, or he just doesn’t care.

He is a predator in every sense of the word. Every vampire that he or his followers create are made without their consent or knowledge of what vampirism entails. Every time he’s invited inside he achieved it through lying, manipulation or coercion. And he thinks it’s fine because he has a borderline religious mission to save souls from death and assimilate them into his cult of personality.

I counted the amount of onscreen romantic relationships that Remmick either ruins or forced himself into - I’ve come to a total of 5 couples.

1. This happens basically offscreen so I think it’s left up to interpretation, but Remmick did not turn Joan. He sits comfortably in a chair and watches Burt (influenced by Remmick) violently force himself on his wife to turn her into a vampire. And I have reason to believe that, considering the way he speaks to Grace.

2. After turning Bo Chow, Remmick learns of the existence of his wife Grace and their daughter Lisa. Threatening Lisa’s life by itself should have (and would have) been enough for Grace to let him inside, not even mentioning the safety of the whole town. But he doesn’t. What he does is flip through Bo’s memories like files, and find an extremely intimate and personal one of Bo and Grace having sex. And because this is a memory, this isn’t from a third person perspective, this is Bo’s perspective of going down on his wife that Remmick has voyeured himself to. And he lets Grace know it too, in her and Bo’s native language. He tells her that he knows how to have sex with her because he thrifted through her dead husband’s memories, all while Bo stands next to him. I can’t even tell if he was just trying to anger her to let him inside, or if he Genuinely Thought that he was Entitled to the bodies of all of his followers - they share all of their memories, what’s yours is his and what’s his is yours.

3. Pearline is turned into a vampire (by Remmick IIRC). So now Remmick has access to her memories, including her having sex with Sammie, whom he’s obsessed with. So that’s Fuckin Great. And then she dies. Sammie never forgets losing Pearline, he names his band after her. There’s also no mention of him ever marrying or having a family IIRC, so he might not have ever moved on from her.

4. He turns Cornbread, who dies a second time, leaving his wife behind.

5. Annie is about to be turned into a vampire and Smoke follows through on his promise of mercy killing her if that ever came to pass. Then Smoke is killed in a shoot out with the Klan - the same Klan that Remmick had said he was going to ‘rectify’ and Never Did, because he wanted to go some place where he was explicitly Not Invited.

The only relationship that comes out somewhat unscathed is Stack and Mary, but Stack will always have to live with the fact that he is separated from his best friend, his identical twin, forever - and he only has Mary to blame, but he also only has her eternal company.

We talk a lot about the racial assimilation of Remmick’s cult, but not about the boundaries of the relationships he destroyed.

[sentryluvs]

storms we cant resist

As the newest addition to the Thunderbolts* New Avengers, you and Sentry clash at every turn-until the sparks between you ignite a storm neither of you can resist. Enemies on the battlefield and rivals in every mission, you discover that sometimes the fiercest storms hide the deepest desires.

robert reynolds “sentry” x superhero! reader

tags: supergirl! reader, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, cocky sentry, power play, swearing, sentry wants you bad, sizing up, pining, teasing, reader gets riled up easily, may be canon divergent, sentry focus, slight ooc, comedy moments, domestic! thunderbolts* yelena belova is reader’s best friend.

IN PROGRESS🚧

a.n: first 6 chapters uploaded, stay tune for the rest!

request a story here

_____________________________________________

01. Lightning strikes twice

Madripoor, 10:47 PM

Rain sheeted down the neon-soaked streets as the Avengers jet touched down. You adjusted your suit, solar energy humming beneath your skin, ignoring the way Sentry’s gaze burned into your back from across the cabin.

Yelena Belova elbowed you, her black suit gleaming. “Try not to vaporize him before the mission starts, дорогая . Unfortunately, we need him”

dear, the nickname she had just for you.

“No promises, милая” you muttered.

darling, the nickname you had just for her.

You eyed the golden glow radiating from Sentry’s clenched fists. It involuntarily sent a shiver down your spine. You should never admit it, but behind that cockyness, you felt something, darker was beyond.

John Walker clapped to get everyone’s attention

“Listen up! The target’s a vibranium pulse cannon in the Highrise District. No collateral damage.” His glare landed on Sentry.

“That means you, Superman. Keep it down, I think we have the government shoved up our asses enough”

Sentry smirked, stretching lazily, the suit hugged him in all the right places, making you flush, fortunately the jet was dark enough to conceal it. Or so you thought

“Relax, Walker. I’ll save the fireworks for the afterparty.” His eyes flicked to you. “Unless the newbie wants to show off her… what’s your deal again? Sparkly Kryptonian cosplay?”

The team froze. Not good.

You calmly stepped into his space, as you walked solar flares crackling at your fingertips. “How about I show you after I save your ass out there?”

He stood up, letting a small, low laugh. Sentry towered over you, preying on you. He leaned down untin his breah ghosted your ears.

“Can’t wait to see that, Supergirl”

“My name is Solara” Your eyes held fire, anger boiling your veins. None of you backed down, for a moment it seemed like the world stopped. You heard someone clearing their throat from behind.

“If you’re done eye-fucking can we please move on to the mission please?” James Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier, said while finishing setting up his rifle.

“One second Mr Barnes-“ Another voice interrupted. The Red Guardian, Alexei Shohstakov “I can’t get this- ughh. Lena! come help your papa put belt on, I cannot reach” Yelena groaned in the background, going to help her father.

“We were not- ugh, let’s just get this over with, I wanna go home” You said while stepping away holding your ground. You were thankful for the interruptions because the way he looked at you was definetly doing something to you.

“Mood” you hear Ava Starr say in the background as she spralled on the seats twirling her gun.

Before Sentry could say anything else, Walker slammed his shield to the floor making everyone jump.

“Move your asses, now”

The Mission

Chaos erupted the moment you hit the roof. The cannon’s operator-a rogue AIM scientist-had already leveled three blocks.

“Flank left!” you shouted to Ghost, who phased through a wall.

“Left?” Sentry’s voice was heard over the comms. “Boring. I’ll take the cannon. Watch and learn.”

He shot skyward like a comet, but you were faster. Solar energy propelled you forward, frost breath flash-freezing the cannon’s barrel as Sentry grabbed it.

“What the-?” The weapon shattered in his hands.

You swooped past him, heat vision slicing the control panel. “Lesson one: teamwork.”

Yelena whooped over comms: “Solara : 1, Sentry: 0!”

His growl reverberated in your bones. “You’re dead after this.”

•••

Back at the Tower, you’d barely peeled off your suit when a golden light flooded the training room.

Sentry hovered in the doorway, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded muscle. “Still owe me that rematch.”

You didn’t look up, still focused on wrapping your knuckles. “Didn’t realize losers got a do-over.”

He teleported behind you, voice a rumble in your ear. “I never lose.”

The fight was a blur of solar flares and supersonic punches. He pinned you against the wall, grip bruising your wrists, but you slammed your forehead into his nose. He staggered back-laughing, blood trickling from his nostril.

“Finally,” he breathed, riled up. His eyes wild, almost manic “Someone who hits back.”

You charged, tackling him through a reinforced window. The night sky swallowing both of you

Midair, 11:59 PM

His hand found your throat as you grappled, both hovering above the city. “Still think you’re my equal?”

Solar energy surged down your arms, ready to strike at any moment. “I think you’re scared that I’m better.”

The Tower’s alarms blared below. He didn’t move.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured. Sentry squeezed your throat just enough to highten your racing pulse, making your breath hitch “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Before you could snap back, Yelena’s voice crackled on your abandoned comm: “If you two lovebirds are done flirting, we have debrief. Get inside, now ”

And just like that, Sentry dropped you.

You caught yourself floating in from the window you guys broke.

He smirked, golden energy fading as he flew past you. “Tomorrow. Same time.”

“In your dreams,” you shot back.

His laugh followed you down the hall.

0.2 Thunder Without Rain

The debrief room was still buzzing from the mission. Yelena lounged sideways in her chair, boots up on the table, tossing a protein bar at you. “You need this more than I do, Sol. You look like you got hit by a truck.”

You caught it, rolling your eyes. “Gee, thanks” you took a small bite, savoring the chocolate flavor “You should see the other guy.”

Sentry strolled in as if he was summoned, golden aura flickering, blonde hair tousled from the fight. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a lazy grin on his lips. “Come on, Solaris, you couldnt have finished without me.”

You didn’t bother to look his way. “Solara, and no, Lena and I were doing just fine until you decided to play knight in shining armor unsolicited.” Venom laced your words, loud and clear

He laughed, the sound low and cocky. “Keep telling yourself that, sunshine. You need me, you always do”

Bucky cleared his throat, trying for authority. “Sentry, take a seat. We need to discuss our next plan” He does as he’s told, taking a seat next to Solara, she mentally rolled her eyes.

Barnes stands up circling the room “Let’s keep this short. We neutralized the cannon, but AIM’s not going to let it go. We need to act fast, and not let the Tower get compromised.” He then pressed the comm on his ear “Ava, report?”

Ava’s upper half body phased through the wall, appearing in front of everyone “They’re looking for us. I would say twenty to forty people, all armed. Suspicious weapons”

“New tech?” John finally talks, adjusting his guns

“Its possible, i’ve never seen anything like it before. We might need to split up and evacuate the building. I’m gonna take some of them down, call me if anything changed” Ava finally said before disappearing through the wall. Loud explosions and shooting sounds could be heard all around the building.

Yelena quickly says “I say we let Sentry go out first to do a quick clean up. Solara and I can evacuate the building, and you guys kick ass, yes? ”

Sentry shot her a look, then turned to you. “Aww, but you’d miss me if I got shot up, Stellar.”

You arched a brow at his comment “You know thats not happening, you’re bulletproof.”

You boldly get closer to his face, rematching the events on the jet “ But if they do shoot you, they’ll be doing us a favor.”

Sentry grinned, stepping closer, his voice dropping “You keep saying that but we both know that aint true”

You make a disgusted face “Fuck you”

Sentry smiled even more

Yelena made a gagging noise. “Can you two save the foreplay for after we’re done thanks?”

Bucky clears his throat, damn thats a reccuring habit, pulling you out of your trance. “We’ll do what Yelena said. Sentry, try to keep them contained here. Solara, Yelena, take the civilians out. John, Alexei and I will follow and aid Sentry with the intruders. Faster we finish faster we can rest, im exhausted” Bucky said with sincerety, is his age finally catching up to him?

Sentry stands up, his shoulder bumping into yours. He stretches and walks to the window

“Dont miss me too much, see you in a minute” He smirked and jumped.

Solara stood up, Yelena following close behind as they walked to the window.

“alright team! lets do this!”

They grabbed hands, and jumped to action

“What’s up with these people jumping out of windows?” John said looking at Bucky

Bucky only shrugged.

•••

The mission was a success, the people were arrested and the weapons are currently being investigated. John was right, a new tech is developing underground.

A few days later, the Tower was back to normal, a little too normal. No missions, no reports, no paperwork, no interviews, no emergencies..odd

Everyone was doing their own individual thing, Solara walked to the empty lounge to fill up her water bottle in a black long-sleeve crop top sportswear and leggins. John enters the room holding various files.

“What you got there Johnny?” you asked him as he sat down near the bar to read them.

“These are the files of the people arrested, i’m just checking if we left any valuable information for the report out”

You sat down next to him, patting his shoulder “Have you slept well?” you said noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“I’ll sleep when i’m dead” He tries to quote Alexei’s words with a terrible russian accent making you both laugh.

“But seriously though, you need to take care of yourself, we cant have one of our own in bad shape. You’re very valuable for the team” You tell him honestly, John was like a big brother, and you admire the way he tried to make up for his past mistakes. You admire how he cared for everyone in his way. John only gave you a pained smile in response.

“Didnt know we were having a show today” you couldnt help to close your eyes in annoyance as you heard Sentry’s very distinguable voice from affar.

“Oh how I wish they would’ve shot him dead” you whispered annoyed, but thanks to his superhearing he heard every word.

He cockily grinned. It was weird seeing him dressed in something other than his fancy highlighter suit. Today he wore a tight sweatshirt and baggy pants, his hair was curly and you noticed how his roots started to grow back. Hah. Fake Blonde.

“Keep saying that to yourself baby- oh sorry, I keep forgetting you’re Walker’s” and not mine he wanted to say.

Oh, you had enough, solar flares danced your fingertips, impacient.

“Keep talking shit and i’ll have the pleasure of ripping your tongue out Homelander from Temu” Venom laced your words as you stood up, breathing heavily

“Oh? Supergirl has a boyfriend now? i’m hurt” He smirked, he knows how to push her buttons.

He loved it

Walker had enough too, putting the file down.

“Solara, Sentry-training room, now. Work out your issues before you break another window or one of you ends up dead. And Sentry no, I have a wife and kid, Solara and I are friends, nothing more. And if we were, that wouldnt concern you”

Sentry did a mocking soldier salute, but his eyes still lit up with malice “My favorite part of the day starts now.

Training Room

You squared off in the ring, the rest of the team watching from behind the glass. Sentry circled you, golden energy crackling at his fingertips.

“Ready to get schooled again, Solaris?” He smirked, eyes glinting with challenge.

You flexed your hands, solar energy pulsing beneath your skin. Already used to his shitty nicknames “I’ll try not to bruise your ego this time.”

He lunged, faster than sound, but you met him head-on-heat vision grazing his shoulder as he dodged. He laughed, delighted. “That all you got?”

You grinned, letting a solar flare ripple across your knuckles. “Not even close.”

He tried to pin you, but you twisted free, landing a punch that sent him skidding across the mat. He sat up, blonde hair hair wild, and grinned. “Damn, Titanium. You’re almost fun.”

Titanium? thats a new one

You offered him a hand up. “Almost?”

He took it, pulling you closer than necessary. “Keep this up, and you might even impress me.”

Suddenly a voice echoed through the intercom. “Just kiss already!”

You flushed, shoving Sentry away. He just laughed, as his back hit the wall with a loud thud oof he probably dented it, Bucky is gonna have my head

“You need to stop doing that Lena, seriously!” You tell her looking at the camera.

You felt her shrug “Can’t help it, im bored and spying people is the only good thing to do today” her voice boomed over the room”

You walked to Sentry again, pulling him up with your superstrength.

“You dented the way, Bucky is gonna make us eat shit” and he could only agree, a nervious drop of sweat dripped down his forehead.

Hallway

Yelena came down the security room, and looped her arm through yours. “He likes you, you know.” Her thick russian accent lacing through each word

You rolled your eyes. “He likes picking fights.”

She grinned. “Same thing, for him.”

Behind you, Sentry called out, “Hey, Titanium! Don’t forget-rematch tonight. Winner picks the movie.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder. “Hope you like rom-coms.”

He winked. “Hope you like losing.”

Yelena snickered. “Iconic.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the echo of Sentry’s laughter following you down the hall, the storm between you and him just beginning to rumble.

03. Eye of the Storm

The Tower’s atmosphere was lighter after that specific training session, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that the calm wouldn’t last. You, Yelena and Ava wandered into the kitchen, finding Alexei and Bucky arguing over the best way to make coffee.

“American coffee is like sewer water!” Alexei boomed, slapping the counter for emphasis.

Bucky shot him a deathly glare. “At least it doesn’t taste like jet fuel.”

Yelena rolled her eyes and grabbed a mug for you two “Ignore them, They’ve been at it for an hour.”

You grinned, pouring yourself some of Bucky’s “dirty water” and leaning against the counter. “I’ll take my chances. What do you think Ava?”

The girls looked at Ava spectantly, Ava shrugged while looking for something in the cabinet.

“Dont ask me, i’m british, we prefer tea” She dipped the tea bag, added hot water and sat with you two

“Cheers!” you clinked your mugs together.

Before you could take a sip, the lights flickered. You exchanged a look with the both of them-trouble, again.

John’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Everyone to the conference room. Now.”

•••

The team gathered, tension thickening as John face was unusually grim.

“AIM’s back,” he announced, tossing a flash drive onto the table. “They’re not just after us-they’re after the tech and put a bounty on Sentry and Solara.”

Sentry’s jaw flexed, but he kept his tone light. “Guess we’re popular, Titanium.”

You frowned, reviewing the files Walker pulled up. Schematics, blueprints, and a list of names-yours and Sentry’s at the top.

Yelena whistled. “They really don’t like you two.”

Alexei grinned. “Means you’re doing something right.”

Bucky leaned forward, voice low. “We need to be ready. If they come for us, we fight back-but we do it smart. No more solo heroics.” Now staring at Sentry

Sentry’s eyes flicked to you, something serious beneath the cocky exterior. “Don’t worry, Barnes. I’ll keep an eye on princess here.”

and here you thought y’all were progressing

You shot him a look. “I can handle myself, thank you very much”

He smirked. “I know. But where’s the fun in that?”

Later – Rooftop

You found yourself on the Tower’s rooftop, enjoying some time alone. The city lights stretching out below, it was an incredible view. Sentry landed beside you, arms folded, light steps.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, voice softer than usual.

You shook your head. “Just thinking.”

He studied you for a moment. “You’re not scared, are you?”

You scoffed. “Of AIM? pff please.”

He stepped closer, the air buzzing between you. “Good. Because if you were, I’d have to do something stupid. Like save you again.”

You rolled your eyes to your brain, but your heart skipped a beat. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned, leaning in just enough for his hand to brush your cheek. “You love it.”

You swatted his hand like a mosquito, he feigned being hurt.

Before you could reply, the alarm blared-red lights flashing through the night.

“Emergency – Tower Under Siege!”

You and Sentry spring down the stairwell, meeting the team in the lounge.

Bucky tossed you two a pair of comm. “They’re here. Solara, Sentry-you’re with me. Yelena, Alexei, Ghost, Walker -secure the lower levels.”

Sentry cracked his knuckles, golden light flaring. “Ready, Solaris?”

You nodded, solar energy pulsing at your fingertips. “Let’s show them why we’re at the top of their list.”

He winked, stepping in front of you as the doors exploded inward, AIM soldiers pouring into the hall.

“Stay behind me,” he teased.

You shoved past him, blasting the first wave with a solar flare. “Keep up, Sentry.”

He laughed, launching himself into the fray. “Atta girl!”

Aftermath

The fight was brutal but swift. Solara and Sentry moved in perfect sync-his raw power and your precision overwhelming the intruders. When the dust settled, Sentry hovered above the last unconscious soldier on the stairwell grinning down at you.

“Not bad, Stellar. Almost makes me want to let you win next time.”

You wiped sweat from your brow, smirking. “In your dreams.”

He floated down, landing close enough that you could see the gold flecks in his eyes. “Every night, Solara.”

You shoved him playfully, but your heart hammered in your chest. The first time he called you by your actual hero name.

The others came by and you regrouped, finishing the job together.

The storm between you was growing, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could resist.

04. Calm Before the Crash

The Tower was quiet, the kind of silence that made every sound echo. Most of the team had gone to bed, but you found yourself by the rooftop ‘s emergency door, soaking in the last rays of the city’s lights. You let the energy hum beneath your skin, feeling the gentle warmth that always lingered after a fight.

If it weren’t for your superhearing, you wouldn’t have noticed Sentry approaching you quietly. For someone so powerful, he surely knows how to be sneaky. You trully were’nt in the mood for fighting so before you clapped at him coming to pick on you, you reconsidered your choices as you looked at him

He leaned on the railing beside you, eyes scanning the skyline. For once, he didn’t wear his cocky grin. He looked tired-haunted, lost even.

You broke the silence first. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head. “Not lately.” Wow, who would’ve thought this almighty god had trouble sleeping?

You studied him, seeing the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed as if fighting something invisible. You mentally, debated what you wanted to do. Ugh, i’m so going to regret this later

“You want to talk about it?”

He hesitated, then sat on the low wall, elbows on his knees. This pose made him look so fragile “Do you know what it’s like to be afraid of yourself?” His voice was raw, stripped of all the sarcasticness it used to have all the time.

You suprised yourself by sitting beside him, close but not touching. “Sometimes. My powers…they’re a gift, but they’re also a burden. If I take in too much solar energy, I could level a city. If I don’t take enough sun, I get weak, sick. There’s never a perfect balance.”

He nodded at your statement, staring at his hands. “When I got my powers, it was supposed to be a miracle. I was just a guy- Robert Reynolds used to be my only name. Messed up, addicted, looking for a way out. I participated in a human testing experiment, not caring what would happen, hell I trully didnt care if I died. They gave me a serum, and suddenly I was a god. But there was a catch. The darkness within me came with it-I call it The Void. It’s always there, whispering, waiting for me to slip and take over. I’m terrified of what I’ll do if I lose control.”

You listened, heart aching for him with simpathy. “People see the power, not the cost. Only want the glory. They don’t understand what consequences comes with holding any power. ”

He looked at you, eyes shining in the city lights. “If I let myself feel, I’d fall apart. The Void feeds on that. It wants me to be alone.“

You reached out, your hand covering his. “You’re not alone, Sentry, I know what it’s like to feel like you’re one mistake away from disaster. But you’re more than the Void.”

He squeezed your hand, his grip trembling. You continue. “You’re more than your power.” You found yourself telling him words that you once wanted to hear.

Smiling, feeling the warmth of his skin and the truth in his words. “Hell, I can’t believe im saying this. You’re an amazing hero Sentry, the way you contribute to the team in your own way is very special. Yes they’re may be times that I want to strap you to a rocket full of grenades, or even throw you off the Burj Khalifa for being a little shit. Still do to be honest, you wont leave me alone”

He chuckled “You want my head, I get it”

“But even after all that, I think you shouldnt give in to the darkness. I’m sure the team would be willing to help you out too”

“They all have been shoved down my ass enough” Remembering the events a few years ago. Solara probably doesnt know, maybe its for the better.

“You’re not alone in this Sentry”

“You can call me Bob… well, if you want I mean. Sentry is a sickass name, way better than Bob, probably the best name around here hahah” He said with a cocky toothy grin nudging your shoulder. And there he is

“Well Bob, since we’re doing friendly introductions. You can call me, Y/N”

“Y/N” He tasted the way her name felt on his tongue “Its nice, fits you like a glove, princess”

For a long moment, you sat together in the quiet, two people carrying the weight of the world, finding solace in each other’s presence. For the first time ever, his dickheadness wasn’t so bad.

The storm inside both of you eased, if only for a little while.

05. Breaking Point

After the last attack, the Tower was humming with tension. You’d barely slept, senses on edge, always listening for the next alarm. Sentry Bob had become a little distant since your rooftop talk. Not suprising. You caught glimpses of him in the halls sometimes, golden aura flickering like a warning sign.

You were in the gym, pounding out your anxiety on a punching bag, when the emergency lights flashed red. Sirens blared. The comm crackled with Bucky’s voice:

“Guys, we’ve got incoming-AIM, these dickheads aren’t holding back. Sentry, Solara, Yelena front line. The rest of us will follow. Ava, report and go stealth mode”

Using your superspeed, you suited up quick and sprinted for the main hall, Yelena at your side. “Stay close, Дорогая. Let’s hope that Ken Doll doesnt do anything stupid”

You managed a grin. “No promises.”

The main doors exploded inward. AIM soldiers in advanced exo-suits stormed in, weapons glowing with unfamiliar energy. At their center stood out a white figure-AIM’s new soldier weapon, its suit peculiary powered by the mysterious tech.

Sentry landed beside you, face grim. “Stay behind me, Titanium.”

You bristled. “Nope, not happening”

The fight was chaos. Sentry tore through the first wave, Yelena and Solara focused on taking down the second incoming one together, but the AIM soldier unleashed a pulse that sent him crashing into a wall. Unnotices by you, something flickered in his eyes as he staggered to his feet.

You blasted the weapon with a solar flare, drawing its attention to you. “Come on, big guy. Pick on someone your own size.”

It charged you, and a fight between the two of you broke in. That thing was fast, enhanced, powerful. It threw a punch but you caught it with ease. However, the person under let a chuckle as it blasted the tech’s energy through its widow bites?? hitting you and making you loose balance. This caught you off guard but you absorbed the next energy blast, letting it fuel you. Your skin glowed, hair floating as you unleashed everything you had-a beam of pure solar energy that you knew would knock them out. It did.

Unnoticed by you, a soldier prepared to attack from behind, his weapon pointed to you head as he was taken out inmediately. Sentry was at your side in a flash, but something in his eyes were wrong-too dark, too wild.

“You’re messing with the wrong people, if you want to live, you can walk away now” His tone was filled with undeniable malice.

A soldier charged at him but was instantly turned into a shadow?? “Or not, be my guest”

More soldiers followed to battle, however he brutally manhandled-every-single one with ease. He had a wild grin on his face, his eyes glowing white as the time passed.

Yelena quickly came to your side “Oh no, its happening again. Sol, quick you have to stop him” Her russian accent laced with something you would’ve never thought you would hear, fear

You didnt question her further and quickly made way to his side, grabbing his arm to try and pull him to his senses. Sentry grabbed your neck, grip tight. “Who do you think you’re? trying to stop me? i’m a god, you’re nothing”

He slams you to the wall, you wheezed as his grip tightened. “I dont know what he sees in you, you’re weak” He continues as he gets closer and smells your hair, a whiff of your shampoo makes him smirk. Your thighs involuntarily clenched as his right hand caress your hips leaning by your ear. “You want this don’t you, I can give it to you.”

Having enough, you cupped his face, with the remaining energy you had left, forcing him to look at you, your light meeting his darkness. “You’re stronger than this, Bob. I’m here. I won’t let you go.”

For a moment, you saw him-the real Bob-fighting to surface. He blinked, eyes going back to normal. Sentry’s eyes widened as he saw the position you guys were in, and looked back to the battlefield. You two shared a look that said fight, talk later as more soldier barged in

The battle ended in minutes. The team regrouped, battered but alive.

•••

The members gathered around the table, eating comfortably and chatting. This was a common routine after a big battle. However, Sentry sat by the window apart from everyone. His eyes held that haunted gaze you saw in the rooftop. Everyone noticed how tense you two were after the incident, but nobody dared to ask. You approached slowly, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“Wanna eat anything? You should before the fridge ends up in Alexei and John’s stomachs” you whispered.

He looked at you, voice broken. “I lost it. I almost hurt you.”

You squeezed his hand. “But you didn’t. You fought it. Besides, i’m a big girl, I can handle myself” You flexed your bicep.

He let out a small laugh, some of the darkness easing from his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Solara”

For the first time, you felt hope-maybe, together, you could weather any storm.

06. Fracture

The Tower was messier than usual. AIM’s attack had left damage beyond the usual “repaint, move on” You courtly greeted the usual construction team working on the repairs as you made your way to the conference room.

The team gathered around the round table. Alexei sat besides his daughter who had a bored look on her face, Ava sat one chair apart leaving space for you, John sat on the other side with a small note pad filled with what you would assume were things he wanted to discuss, and lastly bucky stood by the whiteboard with some files.

The only missing one was Sentry. Not that you cared anyway.

“Sentry will be here later. He had a meeting with Valentina.” Bucky said for the team’s knowledge. Although the team didn’t have a formal leader, you all secretly agreed that if they were to be one, it had to be him. After all, he was the one that brought them together. Bucky rights on the board “Mission Report” damn. his handwriting is neat for a fossil.

“Anything you wanna comment on?” He asks before Ava raises her hand “Yes, they were twice the people we encountered before. At least 30 people per group, all armed with the same type of weapons”

You add thinking deeply “There was this person, who had a mask and a white suit, I would guess that was their leader. Although this person’s fighting style was different, but very familiar…almost like an enhanced black widow” You said truthfully.

Yelena turned to her in disbelief “You can’t be serious are you? The Red Room is gone, my sister and I made sure of that. “ You saw the pained look on her face when she mentioned Natasha.

“Dreykov’s dead, and not a single widow remains under the room’s control since we freed them all.” She huffed and Alexei rubbed her back, calming her down “Sorry, I got carried away, please continue” You gave her a sad smile, knowing that this was a sensitive topic “The person’s suit was oddly similar to the widow’s suits, also, they blasted me with two wrist guards similar to what you and Nat use. Coincidence? I think not”

John butts in, interest in his tone “Are you saying there may be a widow involved with this mysterious organization?” You nodded and Yelena rubbed her temple, clearly stressed.

“Well if there is one, she’s enhanced. I saw through the vents how she took down the lower level guards with ease.” Ava said. “Also, when are we gonna discuss what happened with Sentry back there? Seriously, he was crazier than usual”

Bucky nods “Solara, Yelena, when Sentry lost control, what happened before that?” You girls look at each other trying to remember

“Ah!” Yelena snaps her finger, remembering

“The white soldier blasted him with weird energy while me and Solara took down the others at the sides. You nod and add “After that, he completely changed” Everything discussed, John writes it down on his notepad. “Do you think the weapon had something to do?” Yelena asks Bucky.

Bucky grimmed, a clear thought passing through his head “This is more serious than I thought.”

Ava asks “What is it?” Bucky looked her way “We may be dealing with something similar to Superman’s red kryptonite. In the comics, the green one weakened him, the red one, however, made him loose control”

John snorted, eyes still on his pad “Didn’t take you for the kind that reads comics” Bucky palms his face grunting “It’s called having hobbies, Walker. And the first came out in 1938, for your information” Alexei stopped the banter “Sargent Barnes, if this is the case, what should we do? will Sentry turn on us?” He asked him with concern

“No I dont think he will, but we need to be precautios of whats coming. Keep Sentry at bay and investigate further. We can schedule a undercover mission to gather intel.” Everyone nodded.

Bucky hands Alexei some files which he passes around. “Some of the people arrested had criminal backstories with Hydra and Shield. Look for valuable info, Yelena if you can, get something out of any of them. That’s all for today”

The door opened, Sentry entered with his usual cocky grin. “Hope I didnt miss much” Bucky sighed and quicky summarized the meeting, including the part of the red kryptonite situation.

“Damn, Buck, who would’ve knew you read comics.” Sentry said with a raised eyebrow. John laughed loudly at his comment, fist bumping him. “I told him the same thing dude!” However, the energy of the room felt uneasy after that meeting.

•••

You found yourself in the kitchen later in the night, trying to make coffee, but the machine sputtered and died with a sad wheeze.

“Need help, Solaris?” Sentry’s voice behind you was a little too close, a little too smug.

You didn’t turn around. “Unless you can fix a coffee maker with your ego, I’m good.”

He leaned in, voice low. “My ego fixes a lot of things, sunshine.”

You snorted, grabbing another mug from the cabinet. “Like what? Your reputation for being a pain in my ass?”

He grinned, eyes glinting. “And you love it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart hammered. He was too close, heat radiating off him like a second sun. “You wish.”

He stepped back, cocky and casual, but you saw the tension in his jaw. You think he wanted you riled up, going back to his usual ways, rooftop talk long gone, and damn if it wasn’t working.

Yelena strolled in, hair in a half bun, jeans and hoodie, wait, isnt that my hoodie? . She eyed the two of you, then the broken coffee maker. “You two flirting or fighting? Hard to tell these days.” You shot her a glare. “He’s being insufferable.” Sentry shrugged, grabbing an apple from the counter. “She started it.” Yelena grinned. “If you two finally hook up, can you keep it down? Some of us need sleep.”

You choked on your coffee. Sentry just smirked, biting into the apple with a wink.

•••

Later, Bucky called a meeting in the lounge. “Someone infiltrated our database and our security team. We’re on lockdown until we figure out who leaked it. groups only. No one goes anywhere alone.”

Yelena immediately claimed you as her partner, but Bucky shook his head. “Solara, you’re with Sentry. Yelena, you’re with Ava. Alexei, John you’re with me.” You groaned. “Seriously?” Sentry’s grin was pure trouble.

You stomped furiously down the hallway to your room. Sentry following close. At your door you turned to face him “If you snore, I’m blasting you into the sun.” He leaned close, voice dropping. “You’d have to get close enough to find out.”

You shoved him, but he caught your wrist, pinning you to the door with a loud thudz The air buzzed with electricity. “Careful, sunshine,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours. “You keep pushing, I might just push back.” You glared, fighting the blush forming on your face. “Let go.” He did, but not before his thumb traced a line over your lips. “You’re fun when you’re mad.”

Having enough, you push him hard again and opened the door, craving to close it in his face and breaking all his perfect teeth. Inside, he glanced around your room: spacious, but comfortable. All sorts of paintings and posters decorated the walls, a small desk was filled with pens, notes, your bed was unkempt in a way that it meant that you planned to nap later. He saw a makeup vanity covered with polaroids of the team, you Yelena and Ava making funny faces, John sleeping on the couch and Alexei putting whip cream on his spralled hand, Bucky asleep as you drew things on his face with a smile and him in the back reading. He smiled at the sight.

You removed your hoodie staying only in a crop top, his eyes following you as you reached for the tv remote on the nightstand. You glanced his way “If you’re done staring, make yourself comfortable”

He sits on the edge of your bed, unsure when you said “I hope you like romcoms, you owe me one”

•••

Hours later, you woke up and found him in the floor, sitting alone in the dark. The cockiness was gone, replaced by shadows.

You glanced from the bed, silent for a moment. “You okay?”

He didn’t look at you. “I just thinking about that day, when I lost control”

You patted your side motioning him to sit, he does. “You didn’t. You fought it.”

He let out a shaky breath. “You make it sound so easy”

You swallowed, heart pounding. Remebering how the dark version of him gripped your neck, caressed your hip and whispered things in your ear

He turned, searching your face. “You’re dangerous, Y/N. You make me want to do things I shouldn’t.”

Sentry’s face starts getting closer to yours, you felt his breath on your lips.

The moment stretched, electric and fragile. You pulled away panicking “Let’s go to sleep” you quicky turned around, heart pounding against your sternum.

Sentry laughed, and the tension broke-but something had shifted between you. The storm was coming, and you weren’t sure you wanted to outrun it anymore.

[bower-quinn]

Where you are is home

Steve x Reader - Fluff, friends to lovers, modern!au Steve is your best friend, but what if... purely hypothetically... you feel more?

The sun over Hawkins hadn’t set yet, but golden light was already creeping through the leaves of the old trees behind the trailer park. You were sitting on the hood of Steve’s BMW – the one he somehow still drove, even though you regularly laughed about how it was basically a moving joke by now.

“Do you think your car will die on its own someday, or do I have to take care of that?” “Disrespectful,” Steve said, chewing on a straw and giving you a mock-offended glare. “This is a classic.” “Classically rusty.” He gave you a playful punch on the arm, and you let out an exaggerated sound, just to grin right after. “You’re such a baby,” he mumbled, leaning back against the windshield and closing his eyes. The wind blew a strand of hair into his face, but he didn’t move it.

That was the thing about the two of you: you didn’t have to say anything. You could be outside somewhere, between trees and chirping crickets, and just… be. You’d been best friends for two years – ever since you’d slipped him chips under the bench during a boring school play. He hadn’t really left your side since. The rumors that you were his latest fling had faded quickly. Like a boring song no one hums anymore. Over time, your friendship had only grown deeper.

He’d taken you on late-night drives, helped you forget your idiot ex (“I almost punched him.” “Come on, Steve, you would've broken your hand!” “But with dignity!”), and you’d helped him write his college applications (“I’m not a college guy.” “You’re just lazy!” “Exactly my point!”) And every time the world felt like too much, one of you was always there. Always.

“Remember when you fell asleep in the kitchen ‘cause you tried to make spaghetti at 3am?” “That was a tactical power nap,” Steve mumbled. “I was waiting for the water to boil.” You laughed – rough and honest. Steve looked at you briefly – just for a moment – but something in his eyes lingered.

“What would I be without you,” he murmured. You felt a lump in your throat. “Probably dead. Or still a terrible cook. A terrible cook with awful taste in music.” “I have fantastic taste in music.” “Steve, your playlist is just Foreigner. Nothing else.” “Romantically speaking, that’s a stroke of genius.” “Romantically speaking, it sucks.”

More laughter. More closeness. And when his head leaned on your shoulder, there was no thunderclap. No explosion. Just a warm, quiet feeling: You loved him. Like a best friend. But also… more.

A few days later, you were sitting with Steve on the roof of his garage. An old wooden ladder, a picnic blanket, two cans of Coke, and a rusty Bluetooth speaker. Your little, crooked paradise.

“Is it sad that this is the highlight of my weekend?” he asked. “No,” you said. “I’m here too.” He grinned – that half-serious grin that hurt if you looked at it too long. “You know you’re irreplaceable, right?” “Obviously,” you replied. “Were you about to confess your undying love?” “God forbid.” A pillow hit your arm. “Robin would’ve declared her eternal love by now. She’s more romantic. And smarter!” “Hey! I successfully built an IKEA cabinet today.” “Steve… I was there. You put the same screw in the wrong place. Twice. Twice, Steve.” “Artistic interpretation!”

Laughter. Deep breaths. Silence.

“You know…,” he suddenly began, “sometimes I feel like I’m missing something. I haven’t dated anyone in over a year. I just want to hang out with you.” You looked at him. “Would you rather go back to dating Cynthia?” “The one who called Chewbacca ‘the roaring bear’? I don’t think so.” You laughed loudly – one of your favorite memories. You’d never forget Steve’s face.

“You need a girlfriend who knows the difference between Star Trek and Star Wars.” “Yeah,” he said softly, leaning closer. “I think I like this. With you. You get me. You know me.” You placed your hand on his. Nothing big. Just… exactly right. His eyes wandered to your face and stayed there.

“You’ve got something,” he whispered, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “Eyelash. Make a wish,” he murmured. “I did.” “What was it?” “If I tell you, it won’t come true.” His gaze flickered. “What if I wished for the same thing?”

There it was. A moment. One second. Two. Three. And it passed. Neither of you made the first move. But still, something had changed. The spark that had only lived inside you was suddenly outside, too. Every touch felt like lightning, and you could see it in his eyes – he felt it too.

Those big puppy eyes. So open. So honest. So vulnerable. And still, weeks passed. Weeks full of longing.

One night at his place. The world outside was quiet, but something inside both of you was boiling – something that had stayed silent too long. Steve looked at you – and in his eyes were the words he couldn’t hold in much longer. He’d never been good at hiding anything.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said. “What do you mean?” “This... almost. This constant almost. Almost kissing. Almost saying how much I want you.” He stepped closer. “I can’t sleep. I only think about you.”

Your heart was racing. “I think about you too,” you whispered.

Then he pulled you into him – not gently. Not carefully. But like someone who’s been in love forever. His mouth found yours, hot and urgent, his hands on your back, under your shirt, pulling, searching – like he had to make sure you were real.

“I want you,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Not just now. Every day.” Your fingers ran down his chest, your breath hot on his neck. His grip tightened. He looked at you, half speechless, half overwhelmed.

“You’re everything I want.” When his lips met yours again, there was no more doubt. Only desire – built up over weeks. Months of glances that had never dared to speak. Now, they were screaming. In every touch. Every move. Every trace of skin on skin.

You didn’t fall on each other. You fell into something that had always been there – and finally had the space to catch fire.

[skywalkoverme]

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐱

a/n: Request made by @skywalkershootme Enjoy!

𐙚 Anakin Skywalker x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+ MDNI

Summary: You try breaking up with your DILF boyfriend.

Warnings/contains: dom! male, sub! fem, raw sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, rough sex, oral sex (f reciv), choking, lots of dirty talk, hair pulling, teasing, reader is in her early 20s, Anakin is in his mid 40s, proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 2k // More soon on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

You swung the front door open, a hand on your hip as you looked the man up and down. From behind his back, Anakin revealed a large bouquet of colorful peonies, lilies and tulips. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Yeah, you’re late.” You folded your arms and blocked the doorway.

“I’m sorry! Leia had softball practice, and she left her stuff with her mother. And—“

“It’s fine.” He could feel that it wasn’t. You let him inside and sat on the couch. Decorations from the surprise party your friends threw scattered around with the essence of a good time.

It was late. Very late. One in the morning. “Penny is asleep in the studio. Don’t wake her.” You muttered and turned back to the television.

Anakin placed the flowers on the dining room table along with the other bouquets and presents you received. “Baby, baby. I’m sorry.” He sat beside you, elbows on his knees as he leaned in.

“You didn’t even call.”

“I lost my phone.” You rolled your eyes; he did this often seeing as how his memory wasn’t the best. But you didn’t want to hear that! “Baby?”

Frustration fumed within you. “You embarrassed me in front of my girls! This is the last time.”

He took your hands into his. “You know I love you.” He said calmly, “look at me.” Your eyes flickered to his, but your head was still turned away. “You’re the best thing to happen to me, ok? You’re the center of my universe.”

“It’s one in the morning.”

“I apologize. If you had let me finish, after I dropped off Leia’s belongings, I was headed to you, but Luke broke his nose in his rocketry class. He stayed late and was tinkering with the upper-class men’s work.”

“Is he ok?”

“He’s fine but I was at the ER until about…” He turned his left wrist over and read the watch, “twenty minutes ago.” Your head lowered, “You have every right to be angry with me. I understand that communication isn’t my strong suit but, Doll, you can’t leave me.”

He was right, like always, you can’t. Never had you met a guy so perfect for you. Your fingers brushed the grey hairs in his stubble; red-ish dark hair filled your hand as he leaned into you, his arms crossed behind your back, and he pulled you closer. His voice was gruff but as gentle as it could be, “I love you, sweetheart.”

You found it hard to pull your gaze from his eyes, “I love you too.” You said softly so only his ears could hear.

“Happy birthday.” He said as of reminding you and placed a kiss between your eyebrows.

“Thank you.”

“I have a few gifts for you, Can I show them to you?” You nodded and kept your arms around his neck, your ass on his lap. He opened a small bag by his feet and retrieved a maroon, velvet box. He turned it to you and showed the gold necklace with a butterfly pendant. You lifted a bundle of your hair away from your neck and he leaned into you; clipped the ends of the necklace and let it rest above your breasts. “And…I know you like to take mine, so.” From the bag, he gathered another velvet box and revealed a watch to match his. “This one actually fits you.”

“Thank you.” You said softly as the quartz face of the watch gleamed in the light of the television. “I apologize for being rude earlier.”

“You know I’m used to your attitude.” His hands cuffed your cheeks, thumbs ran over the corners of your mouth. “You still seem tense.” The man noted as you sat comfortably on his jeans. “Let me help you.” A callused hand ran down the sides of your birthday dress and rest on your hip, the other on the back of your neck.

The tension was palpable as you avoided his gaze, “I feel bad asking for sex after…treating you that way.” You could feel his exhales on your face, a firm look was steady on your face.

“This is a first.” He chuckled deeply and took a breath of your sweet perfume. His hands roamed over the curves of your breasts and back down to the perfect curves of your hips. “Lay on me.” You rest your lips on his; his grip hardened on your body. Your delicate skin against him as he deepened the kiss with a groan. His lips moved against the sweet seam of your mouth, enticing it open for his tongue.

“Penny is in the other room.” You said through breaths.

“Then you must be quiet.” The hand on the back of your neck brought you back against him. Your body flush against him, he could feel your soft breasts and hard nipples. Without a doubt, you’d be sore from his grip alone in the morning. His hand moved from your hip to your ass, gently tugging your pink thong to the side. “Fuck.” His fingers slipped around your wet heat, “Did I do this?” He asked as you raised your dress higher.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He slapped your ass; he took your bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s that sorta’ night?” You blushed as his firm cock pressed on your pussy through his jeans. With a sway of your hips, you rubbed your clit on the bulge, back and forth, “You have no idea what I’m thinkin’, Sweetheart.” He said through rough kisses. Your chest rose and fell against his body, his hot breath fanned over your ear as he whispered. “I’m going to fuck you over this couch. Try your best not to wake your friend, alright?” You nodded quickly as he pulled the clothes off your body. His cock throbbed under you as his mind raced. It’s been days since he’s spread you out and fucked you right.

You managed to pull his cock from his jeans; memories flooded your head at the sight of it. He applied pressure on his kisses, a hand on the front of your throat. The man guided your body, your pussy rubbed against the length of his cock. Your thumb brushed the precum and swiftly, you sucked it off your thumb. “Quit teasing me.” You sighed.

He squeezed your throat until you stopped whining. He rubbed his thick cockhead against the slick folds of your pussy. Anakin groaned from the overwhelming warmth, his need for you clouded his thoughts. Your eyes fluttered shut as he thrusts his hips upward into you. You bit his finger that pressed over your lips. He buried himself to the hilt in your heated walls.

Anakin paused for a moment and let your body adjust to his size. You squirmed in his grip as he chuckled, “You feel heavenly, sweetheart.” His voice deep as he felt your deep bite on his finger. “…so fucking tight and hot around my cock.” You nodded as he slowly stroked inside of you. “Don’t I fit so nicely in this pussy?” You gave him a drunken nod; his hips rolled in a deep grind against yours. Each thrust reached a new nerve, shockwaves of pleasure sent through your beautiful body as you wadded over him.

He pulled his finger from your mouth, “Shhhh.” He reminded, his tongue found your mouth again started stroking, twined with your own. He swallowed your sweet moans and whimpers down his throat. “That’s it, baby. You’re taking every inch.” Before you could reply, his tongue swirled inside of your mouth, panting kisses shared between you two. “You’re so precious.”

He hooked your legs over his elbows and turned you on your back. You pressed onto the soft couch cushions as he loomed over you. Soon, his hand found your neck again and his cock drove deeper into your pussy. A helpless squeal left your lips as his heavy cock fucked you harder. With each deep stroke, his cockhead kissed your cervix. Your eyes fell back into your head, twitching fingers reached for him desperately. He could feel it when you came on his cock, your sweet pussy clutched him tightly, and your cum dressed his cock in sweet cream.

Anakin leaned closer to you until your soft fingers met his cheeks. “I’m here, baby. I’m here. Baby girl.” His rough and lustful voice made you cling tighter to him, “I’m gonna fill you to the brim, sweetheart.” He panted, his hot breath mixing with yours between the small space. It was a miracle you weren’t tearing holes into the couch cushions from the stretching pleasure.

Anakin snarled as you gripped around him tighter. The feeling of your soft cervix kissing his cock with each thrust, your body submitting beneath his relentless strokes, was enough to drive him inside. “Fuck yes,” Every time he pulled from you, your pussy pulled him right back. His heavy balls slapped against your ass, “Fuck, take my cum.” He could feel his release close to the edge of his cock.

Your breathy moans were soft, mindful of the woman that lay asleep in the bedroom down the hall. His hand tangled in your hair and brought your neck to him. He latched onto you as if trying to draw blood from your system. He sucked on the skin as he fucked you relentlessly. “I- I’m gonna cum, Baby!” His voice strained as he tried to hold back. “You want my seed?” You nodded, holding a hand over your mouth to keep your loud moans from escaping. Anakin pressed his hips against yours and emptied himself deep inside of you as you came with him. “M~ ngh~” Each stream of thick, hot cum flooded your womb.

His hands were gentle as he pets your cheeks, working you through your own trembling orgasm. He tilted your chin up with callused fingers and wiped away your tears. Anakin gazed down at you with sweet adoration; he could feel your swollen and tender flesh quivering around his thick cock, still aching from your first round. “How’d I do, baby?” He asked, softly stroking inside of your well-used pussy. Your eyes twitched closed as your fingers fell from the overstimulation. As he pulled his hips back and forth, your sorry clitoris taking all the pressure. “Should I stop?” You twitched and shook your head. He leaned down until his elbows rest of either side of your head, his biceps enclosed your head. “What a greedy cunt…you aren’t leaving me anytime soon.”

Each grind more delicious than the last as his cum spilled out of you and on the couch. Your tender folds and clit pulsed, “Doesn’t my cock feel nice?” He asked, his breath on your lips. “Say it.”

“Y- your…” He turned your head back to him, “Your cock feels so…n-nice.”

“Daddy fucked your greedy cunt so well, didn’t he?” Your forehead rests on his as you nod. “All red and sore, isn’t she?” He slid a hand down to your breast, kneading gently. He pinched your nipple and rolled it between his fingers. “Poor baby…” He whispered, thrusting harder as he fucked you into the couch.

“Daddy~” In an almost punishing pace, Anakin rocks himself into you. “A~ ah!”

“Shhh.” His lips pressed down onto yours, capturing the swell of moans in his throat. “Let me finish you off, baby girl.” He thrusts deep into you, punishing your clitoris endlessly, “What’s wrong?” He cooed and pushed tears away from your cheeks. “Is this too much?”

Anakin pulled out of your cunt; your hole stretched and oozing your shared orgasm. “You are so beautiful, baby. Such a pretty pussy…” He gazed at you between your quivering thighs, “You don’t believe me?” He asked before dragging his tongue over the seam of your cunt with a slow, deep lick. He could taste himself on your sensitive skin. Your legs spasmed from the pressure while he enjoyed the feel of your swollen clitoris.

Anakin focused on your throbbing heat and sucked on your tender nub. Your heart raced as he held your thighs open, circling and flicking your clit until tears ran down your soft cheeks once more. “A~ Ani~” You whimpered helplessly from the strums of pleasure. You were completely undone beneath him, conflicted and heated.

A hand rose to your face, gently caressing your cheek. You leaned onto his hand and let your eyes shut. “It’s ok, baby.” His tongue dove into your center, eating your soft pussy. There was a glow about you, an orgasm heat on your cheeks from the lovemaking. He couldn’t care less about your friend in the other room nor the sounds you both were making in the living room.

After all, it’s your big day. Well, it was yesterday. Now it’s 3:47AM and you lay in your shared mess with his kisses up and down your throat. He took your wrist into his clutch, careful of the gold watch, and kissed your fingers.

a/n: Happy (early/late) birthday to anyone reading this!

Interact with my Anakin master list to be tagged:

@littlestpadfoot @thescxrpio @fullclodponycop @kirbie44danielle @duck6789 @mcxdiaz @maneater97 @swiftiesimonriley @yeonjinnie @laddle @daughterofstairs @edenizzyx @eymie @xxhvzelxx @bored-as-fuck @viviennebloom @jujustarwars1 @kaaaatta-blog @javierpenaspentis @cherrylvrsworld @finnyboob @nouschkaa @blackkhir4 @ilovepurple31 @smiling-is-suffering @kellyburkesblog @decaffeinatedcrowntragedy @kaggelagge @naomiisme2 @heretonerdout @reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @xlovingyoux @hakanaijeon @skywalkershootme @vixenhatesyou @meowmeowjang @slingggshot @cdfvgbhnjm @peachpit31 @carterc15 @smithcaityy @sisterofreverance @hellomwah @blondiebatter @aqqjjk @radiantvader @anthrais @xhino3 @valyna27 @wuxianwrld @discobronzer @melaninswift @justthingzsblog @stanyuqisworld @ppoppy-seed @fawninthesnow @sunwxoxo @santinstar

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Already ruined”

Harry Da Souza x f!Reader

Harry’s masterlist here

Summary: Does being Jan’s friend and secretly fantasizing about fucking her husband make you a terrible person?

WC: 5,8k

Warnings/tags: intense smut, pwp, minors DNI, unprotected piv, dirty talk, fingering, oral (m!receiving), creampie, infidelity.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Jan and you used to be inseparable in high school. Wherever you went, she followed, and the same the other way around.

She made you laugh like nobody else could. She was your safe place, holding your hair back the first time you got so drunk you ended up puking in her bathroom. She was your shield when your first boyfriend broke up with you, hugging you through the ugly sobs. She was celebrating with you when you got accepted into college, jumping up and down in your room like it was her dream, too.

But then life happened. College. Work. Family. The slow drift that neither of you could stop, even if you wanted to. You traveled around the world because of your work, never staying in one place too long.

That was until a few months ago—when you ran into her in a café.

“Jan?” you said, almost dropping your coffee, your breath catching in your throat.

She turned, eyes widening. “Oh my god—is that you?!”

You two hugged, tight, like no time had passed. Like you were sixteen again, giggling over secrets and crushes.

“Where have you been? What are you doin’ here?” she asked, clutching your arms like she was making sure you were real.

“I came back from Spain last week. Got a job offer here in London.”

She looked so happy, her voice trembling with emotion. “You don’t know how much I missed you.”

“I missed you too. God, I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

You two had coffee right then and there, catching up as much as you could. Laughing, remembering, filling in the years like pages in a book that had been dog-eared too long.

Before you left, she gripped your hand and smiled. “Come to dinner Friday. Meet my family.”

You agreed. How could you not?

Jan’s life seemed perfect. A beautiful home, a smart, gorgeous daughter, the kind of settled comfort you used to dream about.

And then you met Harry.

Oh, Jan. You lucky, lucky woman.

That man was the finest you’d ever seen. Tall, broad, devastatingly handsome. The kind of man who walked like he didn’t care who watched. Who spoke in that gruff, velvet-lined voice, a slow, deep rumble that vibrated straight through your chest and between your thighs, making you press them together. You felt it the moment he said your name. Like he already knew how you tasted.

“This tiramisu’s unreal’,” he’d said that night at dinner, taking a bite like it was something filthy. “You make this yourself?”

“Yeah. Learned how to make it when I lived in Italy.”

“Best I’ve ever had, swear down.” he said, licking the back of his spoon like he wanted to make it last.

You smiled, tried to play it off. But your body betrayed you. Heat bloomed in your chest. Your thighs pressed together beneath the table. You couldn’t stop watching his mouth.

Later that night, alone in bed, your hand slid beneath the waistband of your panties, fingers finding your soaked heat.

You were drenched. Embarrassingly wet. Pathetically turned on by the ghost of his voice in your head.

“Best I’ve ever had…”

The sound of it playing on a loop. The slow drag of his tongue against that spoon. The look he gave you like he already knew how you’d sound falling apart beneath him.

You moaned into your pillow, back arching, hips rolling against your own hand. You came hard. Fast. Sloppy.

Your body shaking, thighs clenched, slick coating your fingers as you bit your lip to muffle the cry building in your throat. And even then, when your breath slowed and the world stopped spinning, you didn’t feel relief.

You felt haunted. Hungry. Unsatisfied. Because no matter how many times you touched yourself after that. It was never enough. Not when what you really wanted was him.

You started seeing the cracks in Jan’s perfect world soon after. She’d told you Harry worked in security. A “consultant,” whatever that meant. He was barely ever home. Never touched her. Barely talked.

Jan confided in you—wine in hand, sitting out on her balcony, her voice tired.

“So I started therapy. And he promised me, right? Promised he’d come. Take a guess.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back the ache in your chest. “Jan, how long are you gonna put up with this? You deserve so much better.” Your voice soft, but your meaning anything but innocent.

“Sometimes I think he only married me because I got pregnant with Gina. That he never really loved me.”

“I’m telling you, babe… sometimes divorce is just the best option.” The words came out silk-smooth, but your pulse was racing. You hated yourself a little for saying them. But not enough.

Jan sighed again, curling into herself. “I just wish he’d look at me the way he used to. Like he wanted me. Like I was enough.”

Silence stretched between you. Thick. Loaded.

“God,” she whispered, wiping at her eyes. “What the fuck happened to us?”

You didn’t answer. Because part of you—the selfish, hungry, shamefully honest part—didn’t care.

Now here you are. Jan had forgotten her coat at your place the night before. You’d texted her, and she’d told you to drop it off.

You knocked on their door, your stomach twisting with something that wasn’t nerves—it was anticipation.

Harry answers it barefoot. Black pants hanging low on his hips. White shirt clinging to his chest. Hair damp from the shower.

You almost forgot how to breathe.

“Hey, love,” he says. “You after Jan?”

You nod. “Yeah, she forgot her coat.”

“Right, right. Come in,” he says, stepping aside. His voice rumbles in your chest. “She’s, uh… in therapy right now.”

You already knew she wasn’t home. That’s why you came. You’d timed it that way. Carefully. Shamefully. But even as guilt whispered in your ear, your body buzzed with something deeper—darker. The need to be alone with him, even if it was just for a moment.

“You wanna stay for a bit? Wait for her?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

“Course not, love,” he says, already walking toward the kitchen. “Coffee? Tea?”

“Tea would be good.”

You follow him, your gaze shameless, drinking in the muscles in his back as they shift under the soft stretch of cotton. The way his forearms flex as he fills the kettle. The tiny scar on the back of his neck. The slight curve of muscle where his hip meets the waistband of his pants. You imagine pulling it lower. With your teeth.

The kettle clicks on. Steam rises. You lean against the counter, pretending to be casual, but your heart is pounding. Loud. Desperate. You shouldn’t be here. But you are.

And when he turns to hand you the mug, your fingers graze his, and you swear you feel the air crackle between you.

You meet his eyes. And something passes between you—quick and dangerous.

You take a slow sip, letting the silence grow heavy.

“So, how’s life going?” you asked him, voice soft, careful, trying to break the silence—trying to open something between you. Something raw and hidden.

“It is goin’,” he replied firmly, eyes fixed somewhere far behind you. His jaw tight, his shoulders stiff. Like the words tasted bad in his mouth.

“You’re not in therapy with Jan.”

He snorts, dry. “Nah… had bits to sort. And didn’t feel like gettin’ yelled at today.”

You nodded. He chuckled then, low and bitter, the sound scraped raw.

“Bet you think I’m a right bastard.”

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Why would I think that?” you asked, stepping closer, just enough for the heat between your bodies to start warming the space.

“Because you’re Jan’s friend. And she’s probably told you all about the shitty husband I am.”

“I don’t think badly of you, Harry,” you said, your voice low, intimate. “I feel sorry for you.”

He hummed softly, brows raised. “And why’s that then?”

“Because you’re trapped in a relationship with a woman you don’t love.” You said it bluntly. Bold. A truth with no cushion.

“I love Jan.”

“No, you don’t.” You took another step forward, close enough to feel his body tense. “You’ve grown used to being with her. That’s not being in love.”

His nostrils flared. “What makes you think you know anythin’ about me?”

“She’s told me. That you don’t ever kiss her. That you don’t even fuck her anymore.”

Silence. But his breath hitched.

You heard it. You felt it. Something shifting in him.

“Tell me, Harry,” you whispered, eyes locked on his mouth, your voice a slow seduction. “How do you blow off the steam, then?”

Your fingers reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging gently, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the fabric. He was burning. You could feel it. And so were you.

“You must be really stressed,” you murmur, “she said you haven’t fucked her in over a year.”

“Don’t,” he said, grabbing your wrist and taking your hand away from him. But his grip lingered. His fingers didn’t let go right away. And that pause—God, that pause said more than anything else.

“But you still get hard, don’t you?” you whisper, watching his eyes darken. “Still wake up aching. Needing.”

“Think you best go.”

“Why?” you breathed. “Am I tempting you?”

His jaw clenches. “You’re her friend.”

You stepped in closer, deliberately brushing your chest against his arm as you leaned in. “C’mon, Harry. She doesn’t have to know.” Your voice dropped, seductive and cruel. You didn’t care about Jan or about the consequences anymore. You just wanted him. “You don’t touch her but I bet you want to touch me though.”

“Why are you doin’ this?” he rasped, his voice hoarse and strangled with something he didn’t want to name. Desire. Longing. Guilt. All tangled in his throat.

“Because I’m not stupid,” you whispered. “And I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.”

You leaned in more, lips close to his jaw, your breath hot against his neck. “And I want you just as much.”

His entire body went still. Rigid. Like he was trying not to explode.

“I think about you,” you admit, voice sultry and low. “At night. In my bed.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?” He whispers.

You meet his eyes, voice velvet-smooth and deadly. “Everything.”

Then—without a word—he grabbed his keys and coat, slammed the door behind him, and left you standing alone in his house.

But he didn’t say no. He didn’t say he didn’t want you.

That night Harry—the same man who had had an almost nonexistent sex drive for the last couple of years, always blaming work, stress, fatigue—jerked off in his shower like a man possessed. Like a man starving. He fisted his cock hard and fast, eyes clenched shut, your voice in his head, your lips on his neck, your breath whispering filth into his ear. He came with your name on his tongue, his release violent and shuddering, crashing against the tile with a groan that bordered on a sob. He stayed there afterward, forehead pressed to the wall, shame washing over him in waves—but even that couldn’t drown the way you made him feel. Alive. Desired. Addicted.

This Saturday night Jan had invited you for dinner at her house. But when you arrived it was Harry who opened the door.

He didn’t say a word—just looked at you for a beat too long, eyes dark and unreadable—then let you in without speaking.

“Where’s Jan?”

“She’s runnin’ late. Took Gina to the dentist.”

You nodded slowly, stepping past him into the hallway, tension already humming low and hot beneath your skin, each breath suddenly heavier.

He didn’t offer you his usual small talk, didn’t ask how your day was—he just closed the door behind you with a soft thud and leaned against it, like he needed the wood at his back to stay upright, watching you like a storm he couldn’t outrun.

“Said she’d be back in about an hour,” Harry finally said, walking past you and toward the kitchen.

His voice was hoarse, almost reluctant, like each word cost him.

He pulled two glasses down from the shelf and reached for a bottle of red. “Asked me to start with dinner. Figured we’d open this in the meantime.”

You took the glass he offered, letting your fingers brush his again—warm, calloused, familiar. And this time—this time—he didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch. Just stared. Like he didn’t trust himself to speak.

You sat at the edge of the kitchen table, legs crossed, sipping the wine slowly, eyes locked on him.

“You kissed her when you got home today?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“What?”

“Jan. Did you kiss her?”

His lips twitch. “No.”

“Did you fuck her?”

A pause. Sharp and heavy. “No.”

Your throat is dry. You take a sip of wine. “Right.”

“You ever thought about tellin’ her?” he asked suddenly, not looking at you.

Your stomach twisted. “Telling her what?”

“That you’ve been undressin’ me with your eyes every time you walk through that fuckin’ door.”

You shrugged. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you said. “Did you know she stole my boyfriend in high school? Yeah, she was a wild thing back then.”

“So what is this? An eye for an eye? She stole your high school boyfriend and now you want to steal her husband?”

You chuckled. “No, this has nothing to do with her, Harry. This is about you and me only.”

You took a slow sip of wine, let the silence stretch until it grew thick, nearly unbearable. “You’ve been thinking about it,��� you say softly. “About me.”

His jaw ticks, mouth tightening like he’s holding something back. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

You laugh, but it’s low and smoky. Dangerous. Temptation wrapped in silk.

“Then why’d you leave the other day, Harry? Why did you slam the door like you were running from something?”

“Listen, yeah?” he said. “I can’t do this. I ain’t that bloke. I won’t cheat on Jan.”

“You already have,” you whispered. “Not with your body. But with your thoughts. You’ve been fucking me in your head for weeks, haven’t you?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Besides, It’s not cheating if you don’t love her anymore, you’re a man with needs, after all. Needs she can’t satisfy,” you said.

“Stop it,” he growls, barely above a whisper.

“I dream about you,” you murmur. “Every night I wake up wet. Needing you. Begging for you.”

He growled, voice low and tight, like he was fighting something inside him. “This ain’t right.”

“Maybe not,” you said, voice velvet-smooth, fingers brushing his chest. “But it feels real, doesn’t it?”

“I’m married,” he snapped, more to himself than to you.

“And you don’t love her. You care about her, but you don’t want her.”

“Don’t,” he rasps, voice shaking like something was breaking inside him. “This isn’t—this can’t—You’re gonna ruin everythin’.”

“Maybe it’s already ruined,” you whisper.

His mouth crashed onto yours, rough and bruising. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was desperate, like all the guilt and anger and need had finally broken loose and found your lips.

Your legs parted instinctively, and he stepped between them, pressing hard against you. You could feel him—hard, straining in his jeans—and that only made you bolder.

You tilted your hips up, rubbing your soaked center against the rough denim, grinding into the thick press of him with a needy little whimper, and he shuddered. You could feel how badly he wanted to fuck you—how close he was to tearing through the rest of his restraint.

“I shouldn’t—fuck, I shouldn’t—” he gasps, dragging his mouth down your neck, his voice a ragged edge, teeth grazing your skin like he wants to mark you. Nothing left of the man trying to stay good.

“But you are,” you whisper, your hands slipping beneath his shirt, feeling the hot, tense muscle of his back. “And don’t you fuckin’ dare stop now.”

You tugged his shirt up, greedy, fingers exploring every inch—hard ridges of muscle, the heat of his spine. You dug your nails in, dragging them down, and he groaned low and deep like it hurt so good. His cock twitching against you through his jeans.

He kissed you like a man drowning. Like he’d wanted to feel this way for years and never dared to admit it.

“I think about your mouth,” you gasp, grinding against him. “Think about your hands—your cock—”

“Jesus Christ,” he growls, like you just punched the air from his lungs.

His hand slid up under your dress, fingers brushing the damp lace of your panties. He growled low in his throat when he felt how soaked you were.

“You came here like this?” he demanded against your mouth. “Drippin’ for me already?”

“I get like this all the time, just for you,” you confessed, breathless.

He let out a sound—somewhere between a snarl and a moan— his fingers curled into the lace, yanking it to the side with a roughness that made your breath catch, and slipping a finger inside you. One thick, knuckle-deep stroke that made your eyes roll back.

You gasped, clutching his shoulders.

He moved that single finger like he was learning you. Testing your walls. Curling just right—so fucking right—you almost sobbed from the sensation. He knew exactly where to press, how to rub the inner wall that made your toes curl.

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, voice rough with disbelief. “Tight little cunt… ’course you’ve been thinkin’ about this.”

He pumped slow and deep, watching your face with wild eyes. His thumb finds your clit like he knows exactly where it is, lazy, cruel circles, barely enough to satisfy.

“More,” you whimpered, desperate. “Please, Harry—more.”

A second finger slid in beside the first, thicker now, the stretch pushing at the edge of too much—but you welcomed it, reveled in it. His thumb kept teasing your clit, giving you exactly what you need—and you cry out, your body arching, the heat inside you building so fast it’s almost unbearable.

“Does she feel like this?” you purred in his ear. “Bet she’s not this tight… she doesn’t get this wet for you.”

He growled when you clenched around him, fingers fucking up into you harder, faster. Slick sounds filled the kitchen, obscene and raw, and it only pushed him further.

“Oh—Fuck, don’t stop,” you hissed, hips rocking into his hand. “Right there, Harry—fuck, yes, there—” your voice broke into a sob.

He cursed. Low and violent. “I’ll never forgive myself for this.”

“You will,” you breathed. “Because I’m not sorry.” “And I’d let you do it again. Every damn time you want it.”

His fingers were still working inside you, steady and slick, his breath hot against your throat. Every time your hips bucked against his hand, he growled. Like you were making him lose his mind.

You whined, thighs shaking, body trembling from the inside out. Every flick of his thumb made your vision blur, and you were so close—so close.

“Look at you—fuckin’ perfect mess, makin’ these filthy sounds just from my fingers…” he rasped, voice thick with lust.

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry, your back arching off the edge of the kitchen table. He wasn’t gentle—no, he was rough, greedy, like he needed to feel every tight inch of you around him.

“That’s it,” he grunted, watching you fall apart under his touch. “Cum for me. Cum on my fuckin’ fingers.”

You came hard on his fingers with your forehead pressed against his chest, your cry muffled by the cotton of his shirt, your body trembling like something had finally broken loose. Your body shattered around his hand and you clenched tight on his fingers, your thighs shaking, mouth falling open in a moan you couldn’t even recognize as your own.

Your cunt fluttered around him, hot and dripping, soaking his fingers to the knuckle. He cursed again—raw, reverent. “Fuckin’ hell… you just soaked me.”

He kept working you through it, thumb relentless on your clit, fingers fucking you through every spasm, every pulse of heat. You were boneless, trembling, already soaked—and he hadn’t even unzipped his jeans yet.

When you finally lifted your face to look at him, you saw it—the ruin in his eyes. The guilt. The hunger. The part of him that knew he should’ve stopped this before it started, and the part of him that never wanted to stop again.

You pulled his hand out from between your legs and brought it to your mouth, licking your release off his fingers, your tongue slow and deliberate

You sank to your knees before he could say anything.

“What’re you doin’?” he rasped, fists clenched at his sides like if he didn’t hold himself back, he might wreck you entirely.

You looked up at him, lips parted, dress still bunched indecently around your hips. “Making you feel good.”

You tugged his pants down, exposing the thick bulge pressing against his boxers. He’s already hard. Heavy. You can see the shape of him straining through the fabric, a wet patch already forming at the tip. He twitched when the cool air hit him, the thick head of his cock nudging against the seam of his boxers, begging to be freed. You bit your lip, breathing hard.

The sight made your thighs clench. Fuck, he was big—bigger than you imagined, bigger than you dared to dream. The kind of cock that made your mouth ache and your cunt throb just looking at it.

You swore you could feel your pussy flutter just at the sight of him—thick and leaking and perfect. Like your body already knew how it would feel to be split open by him.

You glance up. “Didn’t even touch you yet.”

His hand curls into a fist. “I know what’s comin’.”

His voice was wrecked—already. Rough and fraying at the edges, like the thought of your mouth around him was enough to undo him completely.

You smile, wicked and warm, and then lean down between his thighs. You mouth him through the fabric first—slow drags of your lips over the swollen head, breathing hot against the damp cotton. His body jerks beneath you, a growl rumbling from his chest.

You made a show of it, dragging your tongue across the damp patch, letting your breath soak through. He twitched again, his hips bucking just slightly, like even this was too much.

“You little tease, aren’t you?” He bites out.

He hissed when his cock sprang free—thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip. Your mouth watered. He was so fucking hard it looked painful.

Your hand wrapped around the base automatically, thumb swiping over the swollen, weeping head, and he shuddered—like you’d just zapped him with electricity.

“Jesus, Harry…” you murmured, wrapping your hand around him, loving how he twitched in your palm. “You really have been thinking about this.”

“Oh, shut it, love,” he growled. But it was weak. Desperate.

You loved him like this. Barely hanging on. His jaw clenched, his chest heaving, like he didn’t know whether to let you worship him or fuck your throat raw. His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts as you stroked him slow, dragging your thumb along the thick vein pulsing up his shaft.

You licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of him, savoring the way his breath caught. Then you took him into your mouth—slow, teasing, letting him feel every inch of your tongue.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips jerking. The weight of him filled your mouth, stretching your lips wide, the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue. You moaned around him, eyes fluttering shut.

“Mmm you’re so sensitive,” you said, teasing him. “You’ve been neglected, haven’t you?”

Your voice dripped sin. You knew what you were doing. Knew exactly how tight your lips felt wrapped around him, how filthy you looked on your knees with your mouth stretched wide and spit pooling at the corners.

“No one’s been takin’ care of this, huh?” you whispered between licks. “Poor baby… too fuckin’ hard for too fuckin’ long.”

Your lips stretch around him, sinking down slow, letting him feel every inch of your mouth as you slide lower and lower. You gag just a little when he hits the back of your throat—and fuck, he groans. Loud.

You pulled back, sucked just the head, and then slid back down again, deeper this time—letting your throat tighten around him, your jaw aching, tears prickling your eyes, and you loved it.

You wanted to cry on his cock, wanted to ruin your makeup for it, let him see how much you loved being full of him.

You worked him deeper, hands on his thighs, loving the way his abs flexed, the tremble in his voice when he muttered, “God, your fuckin’ mouth—yeah, just like that.” His hand finds your hair, threading through it, holding—not forcing, just claiming. “You’re too good at this. Too fuckin’ good.”

You pull off with a wet pop, spit trailing from your lip to the flushed head of his cock. “She can’t suck you off like this, can she?”

“N-no,” he said through his teeth.

“Didn’t think so,” you whispered, before swallowing him down again. Your hand pumped the base of him, twisting just right, matching the rhythm of your mouth.

“She doesn’t get you like this, all twitchy and leaking just from my mouth.” You said, hand pumping his length. “She doesn’t deserve it, Harry. But I do. I earned this.”

Harry’s voice was ragged, “You’ve got me harder than I’ve ever fuckin’ been. You’re fuckin’ poison. You know that?”

You bobbed your head slowly, hollowing your cheeks, your eyes locked on his. He couldn’t look away—he looked wrecked. Like he was watching something forbidden but too far gone to stop it.

Your hand pumps what your mouth can’t reach, slick and messy with your spit. You moan around him, the vibration making his hips jolt.

He started to roll his hips, fucking just a little deeper each time, more desperate with every thrust.

“When was the last time you had your dick sucked this good?”

“Never like this. You’ve got me losin’ my fuckin’ mind.”

“She doesn’t touch you enough, does she? Poor baby. Walkin’ around with this big cock all ignored…”

“You’re gonna do me in, I swear it.” he panted, his hand tangling in your hair.

You moaned around him, the vibration pulling a savage curse from his lips. “God… she’s wasting this cock. It needs someone filthy.”

You swirled your tongue around the head, teasing his slit with delicate flicks until his knees buckled and he had to lean against the counter to stay upright.

“If I were your wife, I wouldn’t let a day go by without treating you like you deserve. I’d wake you up with your dick down my throat.”

His hand tightened, pushing you down, controlling your pace just slightly. Guiding you. “Shit—just like that—yeah, that’s it…”

You took him deeper, gagging softly when he hit the back of your throat. again. You hollow your cheeks and suck harder, your tongue teasing under the head while your free hand cups his balls, squeezing just enough to make his head fall back. He’s cursing under his breath, grinding up into your mouth now, losing the thread of control.

“Filthy fuckin’ mouth,” he groaned, barely coherent. “You’re gonna make me cum down your throat—you want that? You want me to fuck your mouth ‘til I lose it?”

You moaned again, bobbing faster, eyes locked on his like a challenge. Your mascara was already smudged, spit dripping down your chin, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t. He tasted too good—looked too good—completely undone just for you.

“Fuck, fuck—stop,” he grunted, pulling you off with a gasp. His cock was slick with your spit, twitching in the air between you.

You wiped your mouth, still on your knees, chest heaving. “What? Don’t wanna cum yet?”

You smiled like a devil. Your lips were red and swollen, chin glistening, dress still hitched high like a perfect little mess. “You just needed someone to worship you, huh? Treat this cock like it deserves.”

He reached down and hauled you up with both hands, slamming his mouth onto yours again—rough, unrelenting. His tongue tasted like wine and lust and regret. You could taste yourself on him, feel his cock pressing hard against your stomach as he kissed you like he was ready to fuck you right there, standing, against the counter. And maybe he would.

And then he was lifting you onto the table, pushing everything aside without looking, yanking your panties the rest of the way off.

“You think about me, do you?” he murmured, kissing down your neck, down your chest. “When you’re touchin’ yourself? Got me in your head, yeah? Think about my cock in your mouth? Imagine me pushin’ my cock all the way up your cunt till it’s nice and full?”

His lips were hot and hungry, teeth scraping your skin like he wanted to devour every inch. The way he looked at your breasts—wide-eyed, starving—made your cunt clench around nothing.

“I think about it inside me,” you gasped, grinding against him. “I think about how good it’d feel to finally get fucked like I need to.”

Your hips rolled against him, desperate, shameless. You weren’t asking anymore. You were begging with your body.

He groaned like he was in pain. “You’re fuckin’ dangerous.”

“And you’re fuckin’ hard.”

His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to his, lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to ruin you, yeah? Want me to make it so you can’t even fuckin’ look her in the eye after this?”

“You’re the one who won’t be able too look at her again after this.”

He growled—actually growled—and grabbed himself, thick and throbbing in his hand, rubbing the leaking tip against your slick entrance. The head of his cock slipped through your folds, catching at your hole, wetting himself with your arousal like he was savoring every second of this tease.

You wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Condom?” you manage, voice wrecked.

“Vasectomy,” he says against your skin, not missing a beat.

“C’mon, Harry. Ruin me.” Your voice was wreckage. A dare. A plea. His control shattered the moment you said it.

He groans—loud, guttural—and thrusts into you in one deep, brutal stroke.

You screamed. Nails raked down his back. Your walls clenched around him, still adjusting, the stretch delicious and overwhelming. He filled you—completely—like he was made to. Like your body had been waiting for this moment all its life.

“Fuck—so deep—” you cried, legs shaking already. “Feels too good—Harry—”

He starts to move, rough and unrelenting.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Take it. Take all of it. So fuckin’ greedy for my cock.”

The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room—wet, primal, obscene. He was buried balls-deep and fucking you like he didn’t care if someone heard you.

“Jesus,” he mutters, eyes locked on yours. “So fuckin’ tight. So wet for me.”

And then—mid-thrust—he growled and grabbed the neckline of your dress in both hands, yanking it down violently until your tits spilled free, bouncing with the force of every brutal snap of his hips.

“Wanted to see these,” he grunted. “Wanted to see ‘em fuckin’ shake while I wrecked you.”

He slapped one breast, not hard, just enough to make it jiggle for him. His mouth descended without warning, biting, sucking, claiming one nipple while he rammed into you, the brutal drag of his cock inside you matching the rough, possessive rhythm of his mouth.

Your tits bounced between you, raw and exposed, his chest dragging against them with every punishing thrust, the friction only adding to the electric firestorm already raging in your belly.

His teeth bared like it hurt to hold back. Like the way your pussy sucked him in was going to fucking destroy him. He pounds into you, hips snapping, your bodies slamming together like they were meant to be.

Harry groans “Fuckin’ hell… so tight, warm—fuckin’ built for me—fuckin’ meant to wrap around my cock. I’m never gonna stop wantin’ it.”

The table creaked beneath you. His sweat dripped onto your chest. You were trembling already, thighs wrapped tight around him, arms clinging to his shoulders like you might fall apart without him.

Your cunt made wet, obscene noises every time he bottomed out, the slap of his hips echoing off the walls like a warning. This was sin. And you were fucking drowning in it.

“Is this what you wanted, love?” he grunted, breath ragged against your ear. “Me breakin’ every fuckin’ promise I ever made?”

You moaned, biting his shoulder. “Yes.”

He hissed at the sting, fucked you harder. Your teeth still buried in his skin. The taste of him—sweat and skin and sin—flooded your mouth as your moans turned to whimpers.

“Fuckin’ filthy girl,” he snarled, grinding so deep you swore you could feel him in your throat. “Takin’ me like you fuckin’ own me.”

His hand gripped your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. “You don’t know what the fuck you’ve done to me. No one’s ever made me feel like this. No one.”

His eyes were wild—burning. Like he hated how much he needed you. Like he was punishing you with pleasure, and himself with every thrust.

Your moans fill the room, his name a broken prayer on your tongue. Every thrust is an apology. A confession. A betrayal. But your body didn’t care. Your pussy clenched tighter with every snap of his hips, your clit throbbing, your whole body coiled like a live wire about to blow.

“Does she let you fuck her like this, Harry? Does she moan like this when you’re inside her?”

“Fuck—no. She never has.” He groans, thrusting harder. “This cock’s yours now, yeah? You fuckin’ own me, don’t you?”

His hand slides between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing harsh and fast, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Oh, you’re so good, Harry. Fuck—fuckin’ amazing. Gonna make you cum so hard for me you forget her name.”

You screamed—loud and desperate—your whole body arching up off the table as the pleasure tore through you. His fingers kept rubbing fast, desperate circles over your swollen bud, slick and ruthless, never missing the spot—even as he slammed into you again and again, hips snapping hard and unforgiving. You could feel the way his cock filled you, thick and relentless, slamming into you from below, his balls smacking wetly against you with every thrust.

His thrusts are deep and punishing, his grip bruising on your hips, dragging you down to meet every snap of his pelvis. He groans like it hurts to be inside you, like the pleasure you’re giving him is too much to bear.

“You’re gonna cum for me,” he growls. “I wanna feel you fall apart on my cock.”

He fucks you like he’s trying to fuck the guilt out of himself. You feel him everywhere—stretching you, filling you like you’ve never been before. You can’t think. Can’t speak. Just take it. All of him, over and over again, the way he drives so deep you swear he’s splitting you apart, slamming into that sweet spot again and again.

You came hard—with a cry that felt like surrender. Your pussy clamped down, squeezing him like a vice, your legs shaking as the orgasm ripped through you like a firestorm. Your whole body spasmed, overwhelmed, undone.

Harry’s body jerked. “Babe, please—shit, I’m gonna—”

He fucks you through it, his movements going sloppy, frantic, and then he groans—deep and low—and you feel him cum inside you, pulsing hard.

Hot spurts of cum filled you, thick and endless, coating your walls. He buried himself to the hilt and stayed there, twitching, gasping your name like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Do you cum this hard for her, Harry? Do you beg her like this?”

He can’t answer, he just collapses on top of you, panting into your neck, skin slick with sweat. You lie there together, breathless, ruined.

His cock still inside you, twitching with aftershocks. Your body limp, used, still fluttering from the orgasm that broke you open. And neither of you said a word—because you both knew this wasn’t over.

And then—you hear the front door open.

Jan’s voice, cheerful and unsuspecting:

“Harry? I’m back!”

He freezes inside you. Still buried to the hilt, still pulsing from his orgasm, his breath caught in his throat like a man about to drown.

“Fuck,” he mouths, eyes wide, panic flashing through the haze of lust still clinging to both your sweat-slick bodies.

You’re still trembling—his cum leaking out of you, still stretched open around him, your dress bunched around your waist, your tits exposed and heaving. His body is flush against yours, every inch of him still hot and hard and soaked in sin.

He moves then—scrambling off you with a guttural curse, shoving his spent cock back into his pants without even wiping it off. You flinch as the loss of him leaves you aching and empty, cum dripping down your thighs as you try to sit up.

“Get dressed,” he hisses, voice low and frantic. “Fuck—get dressed now.”

You’re already pulling your panties up—sticky, soaked through, unwearable—and yanking your dress back over your breasts with shaking hands.

Your fingers fumbled the hem. Your thighs were still trembling. His cum was leaking out of you, warm and wet, dripping into those ruined panties as you tried to force your body into pretending nothing had happened.

He’s shoving the table back into place like that’ll erase the way your body’s still imprinted on it. The imprint of your ass on the wood, the smears of sweat, maybe even a drop of his cum left behind—he wiped it all in a frenzy, chest still rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. Or like he wanted to fuck you again.

Jan stands there, smiling, purse still slung over her shoulder.

“Oh! You’re here,” she says to you, polite, unaware. “I’m sorry, Gina’s appointment took forever.”

You force a smile, “Don’t worry, Harry and I were just catching up in the meantime.”

Your voice barely held. Your lips were swollen, your cheeks flushed, your knees still weak. You prayed to God she didn’t smell sex in the air—the sharp tang of sweat and cum and heat—or notice the way Harry wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Well, good. I’m glad you two are getting to know each other.”

You stay through dinner, legs pressed tight, trying not to wince every time you shift in your seat. Trying not to gasp when you feel a fresh trickle of him slide out of you. You sit on soaked panties, his cum warm against your folds, the ache between your thighs throbbing in time with your heartbeat.

You chew the food, but it tastes like him. You smile, but your mouth still tastes like his cock.

Every time Jan speaks, you nod politely, and all you can think is: she’s sitting three feet away from the man who just fucked me raw against her kitchen table. Who just came inside me like he had every right.

And you wonder how long you have before this lie shatters completely. Before she notices the tension. The way you can’t look her in the eye. The way Harry looks at you like he’s already ruined everything and wants to do it again.

And God knows how badly you wanted to do it again.

A/N: To everyone who was waiting for this — I hope it lived up to the expectations (I also hope it wasn’t too long).

As always tysm for reading and for your nice words🫶🏻

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

[casdean-jenmish]

Just Stay • B. Barnes

Word Count- 3.8k

Tags- angst, there’s so much angst, married!bucky, y/n insert (cause I couldn’t be bothered for a name), there’s a child included, dad!bucky, hints at sex (very vaguely, sorry no smut this time), just a lot of angst guys

"You'll be okay bug, I promise daddy will home in the morning." I mumbled. Here I sat with my six year old daughter as she cried. Bucky has been gone helping Steve with some business in Wakanda for about two months, so it was just Rebecca and I. She hated when Bucky was away, even more than I did. Our nightly routine was always a movie, bath or shower time, brush time, bedtime story, and snug as a bug in a rug. Without Bucky here though, I could barely get her through her bath or shower without her crying that she missed her daddy.

It was absolutely heartbreaking for me every single time. We've tried calls before bed or facetiming, but Becca still gets upset. Even before she was born she was a daddy's girl. All Bucky had to do was talk to or lay a hand on my bump and she would calm down. And when she was born? Oh boy. You couldn't get Bucky to put her down for a second without watching her like a hawk. Poor Peter and Sam. The first time they had tried to hold her, Bucky was down their throats about be responsible and acting like an adult. Don't even get me started on when we joked about Rocket holding her.

"Mommy, why can't daddy just stay home? I hate when he leaves." Becca whimpered. My heart broke in half as she clung to her deer plushie. A gift from her Uncle Steve because as he called it, it was "a buck for a mini buck". I let out a small sigh and began rubbing my hand across her back. "I hate when he leaves too Beck, but he always comes back. I promise you that daddy will always come back." I said. I tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, running my thumb across her cheek to wipe a stray tear. "Tomorrow you can spend all day with daddy, but you got to get some sleep first bug." She let out a small sigh, but nodded her head. "Mommy will stay here until you fall asleep, okay?" She nodded again and reached out to wrap her small hand around my big one.

"I love you mommy." "I love you too bug."

I waited for her breathing to even out and small snores to start filling the room before I made my exit. I made sure I left her door ajar so the hallway light peaked in a little. Even if she wasn't scared of the dark, it made me feel better knowing she had some light. I took in a deep breath before making my way downstairs. Now just to wait on my husband. Steve should just be considered Bucky's mistress at this point. I rolled my eyes at the thought. I just miss my husband, doesn't mean I need to compare his best friend to a side piece.

I began picking up the living room, hearing the slight clink of the metal under my shirt. Bucky had given me his tags before he left for a three month mission. He said he wanted me to have a piece of him while he was gone. Part of me always wondered if it was actually because he didn't expect to come back from the mission. It was always a risk when he left. I always waited for the day that Steve would show up at my door without Buck by his side. I felt my heart weigh down in my chest at the thought of him not coming home one day. I could never make it without him.

After Becca was born, I never went on another mission. I stayed at the compound with her and the rest of the avengers. Depending on who was home, I practically didn't see Becca all day. Every time she needs fed or changed or burped or rocked to sleep, they would take her. Always telling me "go get some sleep, I've got her". It amazed me how quickly everyone fell in love with her.

Especially Vision and Loki. Loki would smack my hand anytime I tried to take her for nap time. Which was strange to me because Loki wasn't exactly fond of children to begin with. I had multiple photos of the god of mischief laying with Bucky and I's daughter tucked into his chest. Not that Loki ever needed to know about said photos.

When Becca turned two, Tony gifted Bucky and I our own home so we weren't cramped into the compound with everyone else. A three story house, six bedrooms, three full baths, fully decked out kitchen, in-ground pool in the backyard, finished basement, office area, and so much more. Bucky refused to take it at first due to his past with the Stark's, but Tony shut it down real quick. "I'm not saying I'll ever forgive you Barnes, but you aren't that man anymore. I don't think the winter solider would ever cry over a little girl getting her hair trimmed." Which lead to them fighting over if Bucky actually cried or not.

Just because I stopped missions though, doesn't mean the great White Wolf did. Steve and Tony both said that Bucky would continue to be a great asset to the team. I think Bucky truly didn't want to give up having the life he was used to. His whole life has been spent fighting and even if he hates it, it's practically his comfort zone. When he found out I was pregnant, it scared him. It absolutely terrified him because all he could think was 'i have taken so many other people's children, so why do i deserve my own'. It took weeks for the closest people around him to get it through to him that he deserved this as much as the next person.

The first four years weren't bad. I could handle him being gone for weeks, a month, or even two months. Sometimes even as long as four months. Here lately though, every time he walks out the door I'm worried I won't see my husband again. I know for a fact that it has a big affect on Becca. She loves her dad and if he's gone for more than three days, she's not her normal cheery happy self. I sat on the couch and sighed as I seen all the toys still scattered. I just want him home for a change.

————————————

I slowly open my eyes as I heard the shut of a door. I heard the footsteps of my husband begin to echo suddenly. What time is it? I looked up at the clock on the wall, only for the hands to be pointed at 2:48. Almost three o'clock in the morning. Four hours after he was supposed to be home. I huffed in slight annoyance making the footsteps come to halt. "Sweetheart?" I rolled my eyes and slowly sat up from my laying position. The footsteps began making their way towards me, but I was thrilled like I usually am. I was severely annoyed with everything.

"Why are you on the couch sweets?" I looked up seeing his concerned face staring down at me. I could see confusion slowly take over as he noticed the annoyed look on my face. "What's wrong? What happened?" I scoffed at his words. Of course. I stood up from the couch and made my to the kitchen, Bucky following close behind. "Why are you mad?" I could hear the worry in his tone. We weren't a couple that fought, mostly due to our pasts. We bickered and argued, but never got to the point where we were yelling at each other. It's the one type of fighting we always prevented from happening. Seems like I wasn't able to prevent this one though.

"It's almost three in the morning James, why am I mad?" I asked snapping my head over his way. I could see his face fall as he realized. "I was supposed to be home at eleven." He muttered. He ran his hand down his face while I just nodded. "I'm sorry. Steve needed me to stay for debriefing before we leave again tomorrow." He said. I just smiled and shook my head. "Of course he did." I snapped, slamming the cupboard shut. "Y/N, you know how these thing-" "Yes James! I know how the work! I understand that you have a job, you have a responsibility to the team, but what about our team? What about our daughter?!" Bucky looked at me with his eyes wide. I wasn't someone who yelled, at all.

"Sweets, I'm sorry. I know I'm not home much, but I'm trying so hard." I let out a dry laugh as I opened our dishwasher. "Not hard enough." It wasn't fair to say, I know how hard he tries. I know that he does the best he can to stay home and be available for work. "That's not fair Y/N and you know it." He said with a small hint of aggression in his tone. "No what's not fair is that you never seem to have time for our daughter! When's the last parent teacher conference you went to? When was the last dance recital you attended?! When did you last hug her goodnight? Or even-" "I get it Y/N! Got anymore ways to explain how much of a shitty father I am?!" Here it is, our first actual yelling match.

"She's cries every night for you! She misses you so much and you're never here anymore! We might as well be divorced!" I yelled. I immediately regretted the words when Bucky's angry face dissolved quickly. Instead he looked hurt, wounded even. The silence was suffocating, just like every night without him here. "Is that- are you saying you want a divorce?" I felt my heart start to crumble as his eyes watered over at the words. "Buck-" "You're getting divorced?" I quickly snapped my head over to see our daughter standing there with tears down her cheeks.

"Bug-" she quickly turned around, running back upstairs with sobs falling from her lips. Without a second thought I rushed up after her. I could fix the fight later, right now my buggy needs me.

My heart finished shattering when I walked into her room seeing her curled into a ball. The sobs leaving her lips was never what a mother wanted to hear. It was gut wrenching. I quickly made my way over to her bed, resting my hand on her back. "Becca, please don't cry." I whispered. She just shrugged my hand off of her and buried her head further into her pillow. I sighed as I felt defeat rushing through me. I looked over as I heard the floorboard creak quietly. There stood Bucky with almost the same look of defeat.

He walked in and sat beside Becca's bed. I watched as he reached his metal hand across to grab ahold of her small one. She loved that her dad was part 'robot'. I felt tears filling my eyes as Becca slowly turned her head towards her dad. Her small eyes swollen and her lips wobbly. "Why is my pretty girl crying?" Bucky asked. His tone as gentle as the hold he had on her hand. "Y-You and mom-mommy are getting a div-divorce." She hiccuped. God, I'm a terrible mother.

"Mommy and I are just having a disagreement right now princess, I promise-" "But you said you were! Don't lie daddy!" Becca cried, burying her face back into her pillow. Bucky sighed and leaned towards the bed. "Buggy, daddy and I aren't getting a divorce." I said, Bucky looked over at me with almost relief on his features. "Stop lying to me!" I sighed at her words. I moved closer and laid down beside her. "Sometimes things are said that shouldn't be said Bug, and that happened between daddy and I tonight. Mommy said things she shouldn't of. You know how when you're upset, you say things to mommy that you don't mean?" I asked. I smiled slightly as her small head nodded.

"Well, that's what mommy did. She got upset and said things she didn't mean." I said. I began rubbing her back, watching as she slowly pulled her pillow away from her. "There's my princess." Bucky whispered squeezing her small hand. "Why were you upset with daddy?" I heard her small voice ask. Oh, sweet girl. I looked over her head to see Bucky looking at me. The guilt on his face made me want to burst out in tears. "I was upset because I miss daddy so much." I muttered. His eyes watered as he looked at me.

Becca suddenly turned towards me with a look of remorse. I felt a tear fall from my eye as she placed her little hand on my cheek. "I miss him too, but remember what you told me mommy? Daddy always comes back. He always comes back because he misses us too." I let more tears fall as she looked at me with those sweet blue eyes. "He comes back because he loves us."

————————————

I sat with my knees tucked into my chest tightly. After Becca calmed down, she asked Bucky to read a story to help her go back to sleep. Instead of staying for story time I left the room. It gives Becca that time with Bucky she so desperately needs. She needs him, sometimes I think more than she needs me. I never viewed it as bad thing though, I knew that Becca loved me. It's just hard when she practically never sees Bucky, who is ultimately her favorite.

I ran a hand through my hair and let out a deep sigh. I need four years of sleep. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood from my spot. I shimmed out of my sweatpants and walks over to the hamper of dirty clothes. It doesn't fill as fast anymore. I shook the thought from my head and threw the pair of sweatpants in. I flipped the light on to the walk-in closet and made my way around to find a pair of shorts.

I tensed as I heard the bedroom door slowly shut. And here it comes. I could hear the footsteps making their way towards the closet and it genuinely worried me. What was I supposed to say to him? "She's asleep." I heard him mutter. I couldn't bring myself to look at him though. It's our first ever fight, what was I supposed to say after the harsh words that left my mouth? "Baby, look at me." I felt the tears rush to my eyes as he stepped closer and closer to me. His hands circled around my waist and I felt my walls crumble.

"Sweet girl-" his words cut off when I let out a small sob. "I'm so sorry." I cried leaning against him. I heard a small sigh leave his lips before his head came to rest in the crook of my neck. "No, I'm sorry." It was so comforting to feel the words mumbled into my skin. "I know I'm gone too much. I know I'm not home as much as any of us want. I know it's hard on you and Rebecca." He knows, but he hasn't done anything to change it? Does he not want us anymore?

Almost as if he read my thoughts, the arms around my waist tightened. "I want to be home more, don't ever think I don't want to be here." He spoke, rubbing small circles on my hip. "Then why don't you stay?" I whispered. I felt him tense at the question, telling me that he was hiding something. What could it possibly be?

"Because I have a responsibility-" I let out a weak scoff and looked down at the floor. A responsibility to the team. "Don't do this, baby please don't." He whispered as I began to remove myself from his arms. "I forgot, the responsibility to the team is more important than your family. Sorry I asked you to come home tonight. I should've been more considerate and told you to stay at the compound. At least then you're only a shake away from the quintet to rush-" "Stop!" I tensed as I heard the anger in his voice.

"Why are you being like this tonight? Why is it all of the sudden an issue?" I let out a small laugh and turned to him. His features looked exhausted, hurt, and most of all? Guilty. "It's been a issue for months James! Months! But you're never home for us to have this fight! You're never fucking home anymore!" I could feel the tears building up with my last sentence. I just wanted him be home with his family, why is it so much to ask?

"You're never here anymore and it's killing me. I feel like I've lost my husband, my soulmate. We agreed to be parents the minute we discussed I was pregnant, so why does it feel like I'm a single parent doing all of this on my own?" Bucky put his back against the closet wall, slowly sliding down which each of my words. I could see the stress and tension weighing down his shoulders.

I bent down with him and grab ahold of his hands. "Buck, every time you walk out that door-" I stopped as the words got caught in my throat. I worry you won't come back. I felt the tears filling quickly as I tried to keep myself calm and collected. "I worry that I'm going to lose you." I cried.

He leaned his head back, allowing me to see the tears falling down his cheeks. "It's more than some responsibility, I know it is. So please tell me what's going on, tell me so I can help." I begged. He let out a small sob and squeezed my hands tightly in his. "She'll hate me. She'll find out soon and she'll just hate me, Y/N." Bug. He's worried about Bug finding out about Soldat.

"Those days are so far behind us. Baby, that girl worships the ground you walk on. She will understand that you were doing what you had to do to survive." I whispered. He was crying profusely, the idea of our baby girl despising him for his brainwashed past being overwhelming. "She won't be disgusted by you, just like I wasn't. That part is one of things I love the most about you, you know why?" I asked. Bucky looked at me, his eyes bloodshot from the tears. His lip was wobbly and the hurt was evident on his features.

"Because I know that it wasn't you. I know how hard you fought to be free from those chains. I know that you pushed your hardest to be the man that you are today. The man that cries every time he sees our wedding video. The man that worships every step our daughter takes. The man who dances with me in the kitchen at two am when he gets home, just to feel me in his arms. The man that loves with his whole heart and soul. The man who went from being a tortured soul to being a selfless hero." He closed his eyes tightly as cries left his lips.

"James Buchanan Barnes, you are the strongest, bravest, most selfless man I ever known. You are the love of my life. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." I said, resting my forehead against his. I felt my heart swell with love as he wrapped his arms around me, making me sit in his lap. He continued to let out cries as he held me close to him. "Don't you ever think your past will make us hate you. You are our baby girl's world." I whispered, placing small kisses along his beautiful facial features.

"I love you so much."

————————————

I let out a slight groan as I felt consciousness making it way through my body. I instinctively reached my hand out to Bucky's side of the bed, only to feel the cold sheets beneath the warmth of my hand. My eyes shot open to find an empty bed. My heart nearly split in half as I realized that he more than likely left early this morning. Yet another week of him being gone. Another week of an empty bed. It's exhausting constantly waking up and being depressed. Especially when you have another human being to take care of while you're trying not to break down and cry.

I flipped the comforter off my body, shivering at the cold air. It's even harder after you spend a night filled with nothing but pure love. Nights where it's nothing but being vulnerable with one another, just for him to be gone again in the morning. I held back the tears in my eyes as I stood from the bed. I walked over and grabbed the first sweater I could find. I threw it on to cover myself up, then threw my hair into a lazy updo. Time to wake up Becca and start our routine.

I opened up the bedroom door, only to hear the sounds of Rebecca laughter. She must be watching tv. I slept in too late for her. I sighed and ran a hand down my face before heading towards the steps. I can’t take this any longer. I once again fought back the tears as I headed down the steps. “Becs, turn the tv off so we can have some break-“ my words stopped as I seen my husband and daughter sitting on the couch together, hand in hand.

“Good morning Mama! There’s breakfast on the stove! Daddy didn’t want to wake you up.” Becca said smiling at me. She was quick to turn her attention back to the tv, Trolls was playing which meant no one mattered right now. I looked at Bucky, tears no longer being able to be held back. “Bug, I got to get up.” Bucky whispered making her nod. I held back the sobs as he walked over to me, his face filled with so much love.

“I’m on leave. Talked to Steve last night after you fell asleep. A mechanic job sounds nice right? Something simple and easy?” I couldn’t help the sobs that left that time. He wasted no time to scoop me up in his arms. “I’m home baby. For good. No more leaving, no more missions. It’s time to be home.” I held the back of his head, making sure he was kept close to me as I cried in his arms. “I love you so much sweets. I’m home.” I smiled as I let out a mix of a sob and a joy filled laugh.

“I love you more baby. I’m so glad that you’re home.”

[godricgryffinsnore]

The Jumper Chronicles ♡ : A James Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : James Potter x fem!reader

summary : When James lends you his jumper on a rainy day, he doesn’t expect to fall helplessly in love every time you wear it—but the heart wants what it wants, and sometimes, it wants its favorite girl in its favorite jumper.

warnings : Intense pining, Secondhand embarrassment (from James being a lovesick fool), Excessive fluff, Friends-to-lovers tension, Mischievous teasing by close friends (The Marauders doing what they do best), Possible risk of swooning due to James Potter in love. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della’s note : Guess what? I am in a writing spree. Not complaining though!!! 😏🤌🏻

word count : 0.7k

main master list <3

banners : @kodaswrld and @cafekitsune

James Potter was in love.

Not the kind of love you slip into gently, like easing into a hot bath. No, James had fallen like a meteor—crashing, burning, utterly destroyed and reborn in your orbit.

And all it took was his jumper.

To be fair, it was a really nice jumper. Gryffindor red, slightly oversized, frayed a little at the sleeves from Quidditch training and the many detentions he'd served with it scrunched beneath his head. It smelled like mischief and cinnamon and something almost boyishly comforting.

You had borrowed it one October morning after a surprise downpour soaked your robes. James—drenched as well, glasses fogged, hair looking like it had been electrocuted—had peeled off the jumper with a cocky, “Don’t say I never gave you anything, darling,” and draped it over your shoulders.

And you never gave it back.

He didn’t ask for it either.

Because the moment you pulled it tighter around yourself, burying your fingers in the sleeves, his soul left his body and hovered somewhere near the ceiling of the common room, whispering, That’s it. That’s my wife.

You wore it everywhere. In the library, curled up on the window seat; on Hogsmeade weekends, the hem hitting just above your knees; at breakfast, where James could barely eat because you looked so stupidly adorable sipping pumpkin juice in his jumper. It was hell. Beautiful, soft, jumper-scented hell.

── .✦

“You’ve got to tell her,” Remus said over breakfast one Saturday, not looking up from his book. “Before you combust. Or cry. Or both.”

“I’m not crying,” James said firmly.

“You were tearing up over your eggs, mate,” Sirius pointed out. “You whispered ‘she even sleeps in it’ like a man watching his true love marry another.”

James stabbed his toast. “She’s warm. I mean—it’s warm. The jumper. She’s probably just cold.”

“You enchanted the jumper to stay warm all the time,” Peter muttered, sipping his tea.

“Shut up, Wormtail.”

── .✦

The breaking point came on a quiet Tuesday evening. You were in the common room, sitting cross-legged by the fire, hair a little messy, nose in a book, sleeves of the jumper covering your hands entirely.

And then—you sneezed. Just a little one. A tiny, adorable thing.

James dropped his quill and nearly passed out.

“Okay,” he mumbled, standing up. “I can’t live like this.”

You looked up, blinking. “Live like what?”

“Like—this.” He gestured at you. At the jumper. At everything. “You. In that. Looking like—like you’re mine.”

You tilted your head. “But I’m not?”

“I mean—no! I mean—yes? Or—Merlin’s pants.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t want it back.”

You blinked. “The jumper?”

“No. Yes. Yes to the jumper, no to me wanting it back. It’s—yours. It's always been yours. Or maybe it was mine until you wore it and now I can’t stop thinking about how you look like home and I’m—oh no, I'm rambling, aren't I?”

You stood, walking toward him, firelight painting your face gold.

“James?”

“Yes?” His voice cracked. He sounded thirteen again.

You smiled softly, brushing your fingers along his hand. “Do you want to kiss me, or declare ownership over all my future clothing?”

He blinked. “Is both an option?”

You laughed. And it was the kind of laugh that made angels consider quitting their jobs.

And then you kissed him.

It was warm and awkward and perfect. He smiled into it like a complete fool.

── .✦

The next morning, you came down wearing his pajama shirt.

Sirius fell out of his chair.

Remus choked on his tea.

Peter went redder than a tomato.

James strolled in behind you, smug as anything. “Morning, lads.”

Sirius: “Is it? Or is it the End of Days? Did the world tilt slightly on its axis last night? Because that’s not just the jumper. That’s your Quidditch pajamas.”

Remus: “I’d like to die. Can I die?”

Peter: “You’re unbearable now, aren’t you?”

James just grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head. “Get used to it, boys. She’s keeping the jumper—and me.”

── .✦

And from that day on, James Potter never got his jumper back. And he never wanted to.

[thoughtwriter]

puppy love - a. tv

summary -> you’re a big animal lover and fall in love with everyone’s pets the second you meet them so arthur surprises you

wc -> 2k

masterlist | main masterlist | requests

you never stood a chance when it came to dogs. one look at a wagging tail, a wet nose, or those soul-piercing puppy eyes and your heart was theirs. it wasn’t just that you liked animals —no, you felt something every time you met one. dogs especially. you connected with them instantly, like you’d known them in a past life and they were just waiting for you to come back.

it had become a running joke amongst your friends —your inability to resist any dog you met. arthur teased you constantly about it. and now, hanging out more frequently with the sidemen and their circle because of your growing presence on youtube, it was almost too easy to fall in love.

your first true test came at simon’s.

“okay, but i’m warning you now,” simon said, opening the door to his house with a raised eyebrow, “if you make that squealing noise again when you see her, i’mm revoking your dog privileges.”

you grinned, bouncing on your toes. “no promises.”

he stepped aside dramatically like he was revealing royalty.

and there she was. nala.

the golden retriever you’d stalked for months on Instagram, seen in countless vlogs, and now… now she was walking toward you in real life with that serene confidence only retrievers seem to have. like she knew she was the star of every room she walked into.

you didn’t even finish greeting simon properly. you dropped to your knees like your soul had left your body.

“NALA,” you gasped, arms already outstretched.

she blinked at you, tail giving a curious wag —then broke into a full run, barreling into you like you were long-lost best friends.

“she’s softer than i imagined,” you mumbled, face buried in her golden fur.

“she’s also going to leave you in five minutes for a piece of ham,” simon quipped.

“she’s perfect,” you said, ignoring him.

nala licked your cheek, and you genuinely thought you might cry. she was a walking serotonin boost, and you refused to believe that this was just a casual meeting. this was love. soulmate-level.

talia walked in just as you tried to take a selfie with nala’s head on your shoulder. she rolled her eyes with a smile. “another victim, i see.”

“don’t act like you weren’t the same,” simon said, nudging her.

“she’s magic,” you murmured. “i would die for her.”

simon groaned. “you met her two minutes ago.”

“doesn’t matter.”

by the time you left that night, nala had successfully claimed 47 new photos in your camera roll and at least three mentions in your Instagram story. you weren’t ashamed.

the next week, you were at tobi’s.

“she’s a bit shy,” he warned as you walked into his cozy living room. “takes a while to warm up.”

you immediately crouched down and kept your hands in your lap.

“hi, luna,” you said gently. “it’s okay. take your time.”

the black lab mix peeked out from behind the sofa, cautious eyes watching you like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“she’s a rescue,” tobi added. “didn’t have the easiest start.”

you nodded softly, not taking your eyes off her, “she’s beautiful.”

a few moments passed —then luna padded forward, ears back but nose twitching with curiosity.

when she finally reached you and nudged your hand, you felt that same heart-thudding connection again. you let her sniff, then slowly scratched behind her ears. she leaned into it like a sleepy cat.

“she trusts you,” tobi said quietly. “that’s rare.”

you looked up at him with a watery smile. “she’s safe now. she knows.”

after that, it was game over. you visited luna at least three more times in the span of two weeks. you memorized where she liked to be scratched, which squeaky toy was her favorite, and how she did a little full-body shake after every nap.

by the time you were posting a tiktok dedicated to her, arthur texted:

do i need to start barking to get your attention or…?

ypu replied with a photo of luna snuggled against your lap and captioned it:

u couldn’t compete

his response came instantly:

rude. also accurate.

still, he never seemed bothered. not really. he always seemed… amused. a little quiet when you talked too long about someone else’s dog, sure. but his eyes always softened when he saw you like that —all light and affection and no filter.

then one thursday night, while you were half-asleep on facetime with him, he asked, “you free Saturday?”

you blinked. “uh, yeah, i think so. why?”

“got something planned. just be here at 3.”

you sat up a little. “why? what are we doing?”

he smirked. “you’ll see. don’t ask questions.”

you raised a suspicious brow. “if this is an elaborate intervention for how obsessed i am with dogs—”

“you’ll see,” he repeated, grinning before ending the call.

saturday rolled around. you stood outside his flat, suspicious and excited, wondering if maybe he’d borrowed a dog for the afternoon just to mess with you. or worse —adopted a raccoon. arthur would do something chaotic like that.

but nothing prepared you for what was behind that door.

arthur answered with the most casual expression ever, despite the fact that he was obviously dying to spill something.

“hey,” he said smoothly.

“hi,” you replied, narrowing your eyes. “you’re being weird.”

“i’m always weird,” he said, stepping aside.

you walked in —and froze.

you heard it first. a tiny, excited whimper. then a shuffle. then the sound of claws gently tapping against hardwood.

you turned toward the sound —and your heart dropped into your stomach.

in the center of the room was a small playpen. inside it sat a crate, some toys, a tiny food bowl… and the smallest puppy you had ever seen in your life.

golden-brown fur. big floppy ears. a speckled nose. and the moment she saw you, her tail wagged so hard her whole body wobbled.

“Arthur,” you whispered, stunned.

he tried —and failed —to keep a straight face. “so, you know how you keep falling in love with everyone else’s dog?”

you turned to him in disbelief, heart pounding. “you didn’t.”

“i did,” he said, stepping closer. “she’s yours.”

your hands flew to your mouth.

“she’s mine?”

“she needed a home,” he said, voice gentler now. “and you… you’ve got the biggest heart i know. i figured, if anyone could love her the way she deserves—”

you didn’t hear the rest. the puppy barked, a tiny, excited squeak, and you rushed forward to open the gate.

she launched herself at you, clumsy and wiggling and full of joy. you scooped her up, your eyes already full of tears.

“she’s so little,” you whispered, pressing your face against her.

“she’s a rescue, got a bit of retriever, a bit of shepherd —maybe some collie too. bit of everything. she’s smart. and loud. like someone i know.”

you laughed through your tears. “i can’t believe you did this.”

arthur rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “i just wanted you to have something that makes you happy. every time you see a dog, you light up. i thought… maybe this time, it could be yours.”

the puppy licked your cheek, tail wagging furiously as she squirmed in your arms.

you looked up at arthur, heart thudding. “god, i love you.”

the words slipped out before you could even think.

his eyes widened —and then softened.

“i love you too,” he said, stepping closer. “have for a while, actually.”

you stood there, puppy in your arms, love of your life in front of you, and for once, you didn’t have anything sarcastic to say. you were full. complete.

“what’s her name?” arthur asked softly.

you looked down at the puppy. her eyes blinked up at you, full of trust. like she already knew who she belonged to.

“cleo,” you said. “she looks like a cleo.”

arthur grinned. “cleo it is.”

you sat on the floor together, cleo snuggled in your lap, her tiny snores filling the room like the final note in a perfect song.

and somewhere between the crinkle of her toy, the warmth of arthur’s hand in yours, and the feeling of unconditional love wrapped in fur, you realized: this wasn’t just a surprise.

it was the beginning of your forever.

[ducksido]

Would it be possible to write the first years with a reader who suffers from gifted kid burnout because she thought excellence equalled love? Like, through elementary and middle school, she was perfect in everything, participated in every school event, knew practically everyone, teachers sang praises about her and used her as an example.

Then, in seventh free, she spiralled really badly. Her grades plummeted, she withdrew from social events her friend circle reduced, and her teachers were worried.

She recovered once she got to NRC and does fairly okay, but she never aims for that level of perfection again because, if she does it once, it'll be the bar for her to reach everytime which will just cause her to burn out again.

The culprit was her absent father. She wanted him to love her, so she ran herself to the ground trying to get that love, feeding off of everyone's praise and adoration until she could.

— 💖🌺

(alright 💖🌺)

You were the golden child. Elementary school felt like a stage you were born to perform on. Every talent show, every spelling bee, every quiz bowl—you were there. You were always on. Perfect hair, perfect posture, perfect grades, perfect smile. You learned early that applause filled the silence your father's absence left behind.

By seventh grade, it caught up to you. You dropped everything. No more 4.0 GPA. No more rehearsals. No more playdates. Your world quieted to a whisper, and nobody understood why.

Now, at NRC, you’re… not the same. Not in a bad way. Just… healthier. You do your work, you try your best, but never to the point where it costs you sleep or sanity. You don’t strive for perfection anymore—because perfection was a cage. And you know what? You’re okay with just being okay.

But your friends? They notice.

Ace Trappola

At first, Ace thought you were just "lazy talented."

"You aced Crewel’s quiz without even studying? Ugh, I hate you."

You laughed it off—what else could you do?

But then he saw how your hand trembled when he joked about how “you used to be a tryhard, huh?” You tried to laugh, but your fingers curled tight, nails digging into your palm.

Later that night, he found you staring blankly at your textbook, not turning the page.

“…Hey,” he mumbled, sliding onto the bench beside you in the library. “I was an ass earlier. Sorry.”

You gave him a weak smile.

“I didn’t know you used to push yourself so hard,” he added. “You don’t have to do that around us, y’know? I like you even if you bomb a test.”

He tapped his pencil on your arm. “If you get a bad grade, we’ll just cheat off Deuce’s notes together next time. Teamwork.”

You laughed. For real, this time.

Deuce Spade

Deuce didn’t get it at first, but when he did, it hit him like a truck.

When you once explained your burnout over lunch—how you'd chased praise like a starving dog because it was the only way you knew to feel loved—his whole expression crumpled.

“That’s—” he clenched his jaw. “That’s messed up. No kid should have to do that alone.”

He asked about your dad. You told him the truth.

"Never showed up. Not for recitals. Not for birthdays. I just wanted him to say he was proud of me."

Deuce got real quiet. Then he offered you the apple off his tray.

"You don’t need to chase anyone anymore. You’ve got us."

And when you won second place in Alchemy class and didn’t cry over not winning first, Deuce clapped harder than anyone else.

Jack Howl

Jack was the first to notice how disciplined you were—not in a good way.

You didn’t slack, but you always measured how much effort you gave. Never overdid it. Never underperformed either.

“You always pace yourself,” he commented once after P.E.

"Yeah," you shrugged. "If I do too well, people start expecting it. And I can't keep doing that."

Jack frowned, ears twitching. He got it. You weren’t lazy. You were tired—of expectations, of living for someone else.

“...You don’t have to impress me,” he said. “I respect you because you know your limits.”

And when Vargas gave you a B and you smiled—smiled, not cried—Jack gave you a nod of quiet approval.

Epel Felmier

You and Epel bonded over expectations—yours about perfection, his about masculinity.

“People always want somethin’ outta ya, huh?” he muttered once.

“Yeah,” you said. “They cheer when you give it, but they don’t see the cracks forming.”

He glanced at you sideways. “You’re not crackin’ now, are ya?”

You shook your head. “Not anymore.”

Epel doesn’t like sappy stuff, but he does show it. He always invites you to hang out even if you say no. Always saves you a seat. Always glares at anyone who tells you to “try harder.”

“You already tried more than enough,” he’d mutter. “Let yourself be.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek struggled to understand at first. “WHY DO YOU NOT STRIVE FOR EXCELLENCE?!”

But the moment you told him why, he shut up immediately.

“My father never praised me, no matter how much I achieved. I guess I thought if I could just be… perfect, he’d finally see me.”

Sebek, for once, had no loud retort.

"...That is not how love should work."

His voice was oddly quiet.

Over time, he adjusted. Stopped yelling when you didn’t study. Started encouraging you in a calmer way. He still cheered obnoxiously when you did well—but when you didn’t, he reminded you of your worth anyway.

"Your value is not in your grades, human. It is in your will."

And you smiled. Because someone finally saw you—not just your gold stars.

End

You’re not perfect anymore. But you’re present. You laugh. You cry. You rest. You breathe.

And the boys? They don’t want the golden child.

They want you.