#but holy Jesus even as I was writing it I was like
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was my last fully completed multi chapter fic really coffee and Christmas 💀💀
#it’s like not even that good#‘but but neon I really liked that one’#that’s cool and all homie but like#objectively it is not nearly as good from a writing standpoint as my most recent work#and jeez how longs it been since that one ended#I really used to just have oneshot ideas that I tried to stretch out into full length stories#like it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever written#or even the worst thing I’ve ever read#but holy Jesus even as I was writing it I was like#‘y’all like this shot’#coffee and Christmas is my sticks stones and techno#it’s my come one come all#it’s like#objectively not good#but people like it anyway#probably just because I hate it so much#neon speeks#coffee and christmas#neon’s super awesome completed fics
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can we fucking stop assigning “ableist” to characters for no fucking reason. jesus christ. not only is it extremely boring and cop-out storytelling to just make villains out of regular ass characters to create your conflict, it’s also fucking jarring and exhausting to have to be slapped with slurs and ableist microagressions towards a CHILD out of nowhere while reading an otherwise unrelated (and untagged for it!) fic. im not normally one to get this negative on main, but if im being honest? you guys are pissing me the fuck off
#taylor marisol tommy random other characters who have NEVER SAID SHIT IN THE SHOW? can you guys get your head out of your ass#even ana who said one kind of rough thing about ability. why is she suddenly an outright bigot in your fics#like. i feel fucking unwell#i get that you don’t like the love interests but jesus fucking christ get better material#it’s boring conflict. It’s a cop out. and it’s UPSETTING#i get that there are assholes on the show. But i know to expect bigotry from them.#but when im not braced for it bc the character has never been that in the show?? holy fuck dude. unnecessary and honestly? uncalled for!!#it’s annoying and bad writing <3 get better at conflict <3 also fuck you <3#sorry! do better!#iinryer talk#tbh this goes for other unfounded bigotry too but the one i keep seeing is ableism and im angry
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jay not asking coach about letting lonnie onto the team bc he doesn’t want to do anything coach might disagree with…….
#‘coach trusts me…’ like what if i cried#man i wish they made more of a thing of jay being TEAM CAPTAIN#<- i’ve made a post before abt how easily he gives it up & jay not liking positions of power etc etc#but i do think he treats the role like it could be taken away at any moment#coach TRUSTS him. holy shit coach trusts him#the first positive adult figure in his life trusts him to take care of the team#train them and critique them and lead them to victory#and coach probably wouldn’t have cared abt lonnie being on the team#but jay is sooooo hesitant to ask#coming from the ‘if you want it take it and if you can’t take it break it’ guy#like this is the one thing he doesn’t want to risk breaking…….#and then obviously he gives it up!!!!!#he gives up the thing coach TRUSTED HIM WITH bc it was the only way to let lonnie on the team#& mr ‘my only dislike is women being unhappy’ was like I CANNOT REST UNTIL LONNIE IS ON THE TEAM#it’s suchhhhh a sweet gesture not only from a hashtag feminism standpoint#but also character wise for jay#like this precious thing that coach has trusted him with but didn’t really want that much anyway…..#it’s going to mean more to lonnie if she had it. even though it means everything to jay#oh it makes me crazy#damn my mum was right. i think too deeply about things#im like i analyse things a normal amount and then i’m writing essays about 1 line from descendants 2#I AM UNWELL#anyway. jesus christ#descendants#jay son of jafar#EDIT i’m not finished actually#do you think jay fears the repercussions? what would happen if he went against coach’s word?#bc sure. he knows coach is nice. he knows auradon isn’t like the isle#but. ‘you don’t want to be at my house at dinner time’…….#he is still scared of his dad. you know. he can never get the lamp he can never do anything right
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Okay, for real, real question.
How the fuck are you actually supposed to write a dissertation? Like... there is no guidance? Is that my advisor or is that me?
I feel like someone said "Hey, write me a 150 page document about something you did over the course of the last 5 years."
And I said, "Okay, but like, how do you want that to look?" and no one answered.
And so I said, "but like, you think x y z should go in it, right?" and no one answered.
and so I said, "but like... how should I go about that?" and no one fucking answered.
So now, like as of a day ago, I was asked to have a completed dissertation to turn into my advisor NEXT WEEK.
So I've been doing the spongebob, right? Like staring down at paper, writing furiously, reading furiously, I have had a headache every day for at least 2 straight weeks; I have bags under the bags on my eyes - my fiancé literally told me I have 3 consecutive bags under each eye where they just keep getting worse; I am not sleeping well unless I take my large dose medicine; I am not tired, I am only tired, I am not hungry, my body does not feel normal, I am not bathing regularly, I am behind on chores and
I
STILL
DON'T
KNOW
WHAT THE FUCK I'M SUPPOSED TO DO TO WRITE THIS.
What the fuck am I supposed to be doing? Like I'm going to give this a try but I cannot express how much I DO NOT KNOW what I'm doing.
And you say, but surely, Abby, in the last 5 years at this institution you've published right? Surely your advisor has kept up and made sure you're making good progress, right? Obviously, they have prepared you in some capacity, right?
I would say to you, unfortunately, no. No, I have not published a single first author pub in the last 5 years. My advisor has not kept up to the point over the summer we had not a single meeting -I need weekly meetings otherwise I fall into the void and am taken by the aether- and after waiting 3 months for him to give me feedback on my first paper - the first one I've written in any professional capacity - I am told to deliver a full thesis.
Somebody just fucking take me out brother. I am beyond lost at this point and feel like a failure.
Thanks for listening.
If you do have advice, it would be greatly appreciated because I'm losing my fucking mind.
#me#mental illness#what's wrong with me#phd candidate#phdjourney#phd life#phd student#phd i fucking hate it here#i hate grad school#i hate dissertation writing#i hate my existence#why did i do this#why did i choose this#its just like a fucking smidge of guidance#that's all I'm asking for#and I can't even make anyone kiss in it#its not creative at all#fucking chemistry technical writing#i love science but holy fuckballs boys#technical writing is the bane of my existance#how the fucking hell am i supposed to write something that's ALL MATH based and it not be plagiarism#where is that line#at this point do i care?#I do#but come on#jesus fucking christ#holy hell#i just want to write about the blorbos#chemistry does not equal blorbos#i'm a dumbass
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After finishing Disco Elysium a couple of months ago, I’ve been feeling that no game will ever be this good again and excite me and make me that emotional. And now I’m almost done playing the first Ace Attorney trilogy and I’ve realised that there are probably MANY games that I haven’t played yet that are THAT good. And that was a very pleasant thing
#fr tho ace attorney is genuinely a fking masterpiece#I want to clarify tho that I’m not comparing it to DE in any way#because obviously they are to completely different games with completely different content and target audience#but just the amount of enjoyment (and emotional stress as well jesus kristus) it has given me#and while ace attorney def has some weak points and flaws; the writing is so fking good holy hell#I’m like halfway through bridge to the turnabout and I’ve already been floored like 5 times by the twists#and how neatly and perfectly everything is starting to come together#and how much it ties in the whole trilogy even back to the first episode#I thought that farewell my turnabout was as good it was gonna get#which is really REALLY god damn good to be absolutely clear#turns out I was wrong again#bridge has in some insane and absolutely bonkers way exceeded even that#and I haven’t even finished it yet#ace attorney#it speaks
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and i often get upset with myself for complaining and venting as much as i do, or also for being as anxious as i am, but given the circumstances that I live in, I do think realistically I am being ... incredibly "well-behaved", all things considered. i could be acting so much worse.
but i do still wish i weren't so ... [gestures vaguely at this whole mess] because it's off-putting for people! and understandably so! but i wish i could make friends!
#i have tried hard to be niceys to be around but things seem to be taking a fairly steep nosedive in my life circumstances#which is . so cruel. because i am trying so hard to get onto welfare right now. i'm desperately trying to carve out a life for myself#but life seems determined to kick me out of it. i would just... really like things to be easy. if i'm honest. it always is such a fight.#i want something to be soft and kind and easy. just one thing perhaps. but i have to create it for myself (thank you art thank you stories)#at least i can create i suppose !!! if i cannot find softness then i will make it myself! if i cannot find love then i will make it myself!#anyways. i feel bad for venting here as much as i do. i try to keep it to myself as much as i can but things just get so isolating often#and there is smth somewhat comforting to put it somewhere where someone may see it. i am alive i am here i exist. you know?#alright pack it up this is ridiculous. shut up shut up shut up you poetry obsessed freak lmfao get out of here w that shit#post cancelled everyone go home we're logging out again. this mfer cannot be trusted with a keyboard and internet access#not even tagging this one. fuck off with this shit jesus christ my guy. shut UPPPP#delete later by order of Chase for the love of fuck LMFAO. i ain't even reading all that holy shit dude#this one freak rly logs in to write the worlds most embarrassing post and then runs away again. LOG OFF AND CRY ABT IT LIKE A NORMAL PERSON#posting literally just bc this is so embarrassing that its funny. shut UP my guy.#sorry if there's a tw i should add but genuinely i cannot be bothered to read over this and find out lmfao#delete later PLEASE lmao
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Y'all why the fuck was I going back through my doffy wips after ages and realised that 4 months ago I blacked the fuck out one night at like 3am and wrote 5-6 paragraphs of the most descriptive, heart wrenching thing I've ever read.
AND ITS IN MY NOTES? I WROTE THAT?!
genuinely reading the dialogue pulls at my heart strings(hehe strings anyway-) it's from doffys pov(atleast so far)which makes it a bit strange but holy shit you just get to peak into this man's thoughts in the best way.(It's so sweet too🥲)
I'd describe the story but I don't wanna spoil it. However I may not even post it because I doubt the rest of the story could compare to how poetic the beginning is.
I suck at writing beginnings(it holds me back a lot cause I know what's gonna happen but I can't get there.) but this is the most poetic shit and it actually makes sense,aside from a few very moments where I use the wrong word.
Btw I also have question regarding the end of that. I can't tell whether sleepy brain was correct or I'm correct. Sleepy me said a window was projecting light but shouldn't it be reflecting? Listen I know that's really dumb but google sucks.
I'm sorry for this big ol ramble out of nowhere lmao I just went back and reread my masterpiece and god it's great.
I'm really proud of it,even if I'm the only person to ever see it.
#listen writing shit is hard#but holy fuvk is this amazing#i can't believe its mine#in MY notes#by MY hands#like what the fuck#its the sweetest wip too#like the only non smut one lmao#but its just so cuteeeee#and so amazing#anyway about the light question#google has been an unhelpful bitch#and i really need to know whether i was correct when i blacked out vs now#its really dumb ik#but jesus this wip is godly#like i think i was possessed or some shit#i can just imagine the events playing out as i read which is odd for my own writing(it takes me a bit)#but like god damn its so good#i really need to finsh my wips lol#i don't even remember writing it tho#like i fully blacked out aside from a few sentences where i had to go back and fix my typos.. THATS LITERALLY ALL I REMEMBER#the fucker rambles#the fucker writes#sorry for the writers block btw#its been like 3 months since i actually opened my notes to write and even then its only been small#i know i shouldn't be apologising for that but i just feel bad for taking so long
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Honestly, if I thought it might actually be possible to just... exorcise the Amy brainrot from my head and move on with my life, fic ideas unwritten, fics unread and Worm unfinished, I'm tempted to.
Not because of the brainrot itself, but because of how fucking annoyed thinking about Ward and all the Ward-era WoG shit Wildbow pulled gets me.
#Grumping#Anti-Wildbow#I just-#This guy writes this character and then proceeds with Ward and all the Ward WoG to undo literally everything that makes her interesting or#even like a narratively meaningful part of Worm#If that really was his intent the whole time than HOLY SHIT even just going off Interludes 2 and 3 he failed so fucking hard at it given hi#WoGs about Interlude 3#and like if he's that fucking bad of a writer than wtf?#or he genuinely did change his mind or overcompensate because people 'weren't getting it' and that's just even#more bullshit#and like - getting pissy at Creators for this sort of shit is common in fandom and hardly new for me but it's all still so burningly active#and I don't need this sort of negativity in my life#but I do actually enjoy a lot of the worm fics I'm reading and the fics I'm dreaming up and most days I don't really think about this shit#that much and writing fics and people reading fics I write does in fact spark joy and will give me the sort of outlet to get past all this#crap#speaking from experience#but I have to actually get there#and then the smug assholes of the fandom who get really fucking snotty about 'canon' and 'fanon' and hang off Wildbow's every word like he'#a fucking prophet as if he hasn't been wrong and inconsistent in his own WoG before#and like the worst part is he is a good writer and a compelling writer but he's quite clearly a shitty person as far as I can tell like#maybe person to person he's fine but sweet fucking jesus#I need to stop letting him and stupid asshole BNFs live rent free in my head#Kylia Writes a Novel In the Tags#A fucking trilogy even#fml
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Hey, you like Raimundo along with Jack, right? And you're Brazilian. Feel free not to answer this if you don't wanna okay. I just thought you'd be best suited. Like when you commented on the "Rai" nickname.
I'm wondering if you perhaps have any thoughts or headcanons on him, family, hobbies, his inner thoughts, cause I wanna flesh him out for my fic and stuff. I'll give you credit for the ideas of course
even though I'm not that active in the xs fandom currently you've surprisingly come to the right person bc I've rambled a bit about raimundo hcs before to my friends. I had to dig up some discord messages to find all my hcs
I hc raimundo to be white-passing and mixed race, which is like the majority of brazilian ppl tbh. side note: in brazil "race" is defined almost solely by skin color, so like if I left my country it's possible I'd be considered a person of color because of my features, but in brazil I'm considered white. raimundo would be in a similar situation
so in these discord messages past!lucas has said "the only mentions of his background is that he has 8 siblings with a lots of aunts and uncles" and "he mentions that the 'rough' part of rio is his 'element'". now, I, lucas of the present, barely rmr this bc it's been forever ago since I watched xs, but I'm trusting past!lucas on this I think he would never lie to me. based on that I'm a fan of the theory raimundo is an orphan and grew up as part of the lower class. I don't think I ever theorized what the fuck happened to his parents, but I like the idea of him acquiring abandonment issues because of it. since he grew up poor I think he'd also have a lot of survival skills, knowing how to make due with very little, etc.
I actually just thought abt this but it's very uncommon for latino people to only have two names. I myself have four, bc the family names just keep adding on top of each other when u marry instead of being absorbed into the husband's name. so realistically raimundo would probably has at least one other family name
not exactly a hc but something interesting to note about mundo is that he is a good example of something we call a "malandro" in brazil. a malandro is a brazilian concept of a cunning anti-hero who outsmarts, deceives and takes advantage of others, usually for personal gain. describing it like this makes it sound like a bad word, but it has a positive connotation. like culturally being malandro is considered a good thing. we even have a saying that goes like "every day a malandro (in this case a scammer) and a sucker (in this case the one who gets scammed) leave their houses.", implying that if you're not the one taking advantage of others, you're the one being taken advantage of. I don't think this was intentional on the xs writers' part to make raimundo embody these traits so perfectly that r culturally significant to brazil but and I find it interesting.
similar thing to above we also have something called "gambiarra", which is like achieving something through improvised means instead of the "correct" (and usually more expensive) way. also very important to brazilian culture and I think raimundo would be adept in it
#asks#lindendragon#this is all I have. hope that helps#there's a lot I could say about um. languages#like languages he speaks and the way he would speak them but. the thing abt that one is that it's such a complex subject#and it's so often misunderstood how it works by ppl who r monolingual#and it's Reeeeally hard if not outright impossible to accurately write a bilingual character if ur not bilingual urself#and even if you ARE bilingual u have to speak the same languages they do#bc the speech patterns from diff languages r different and they carry over to the newly acquired language but since they're specific#you can't just write them if you don't know what they are#example. in brazil it's really common to use religious expressions like 'oh my god'. like way more common than in other places#I didn't grow up religious AT ALL like I don't know a single prayer#but it's super normal for me to go 'may god hear you' or 'only god knows' or#'holy mary' to express surprise and stuff#english has similar expressions too of course everyone says 'oh my god' and 'holy shit' and 'jesus christ'#but we have MORE of them and we say them MORE often#so bc the way ideas r expressed is unique to every language. if you're not familiar with the language it's near impossible#to accurately write a bilingual character#books and fics where the character randomly speaks another language in the middle of their sentence for no reason#is a pet peeve of mine#bc ok that can happen sometimes but it's so much more complicated than that. there's a lot more things that happen#to the way you express yourself when you're speaking a language that is not your native one#one thing for sure for me who's been fluent in english for about 10 years now . I can say for sure that I fucking hate speaking this langua#I find it restricting. it's inflexible compared to portuguese and I can't express myself as freely as I would like#anw I didn't mean to ramble in the tags abt this HEAHIUWEHAI#thank you for the ask I love raimundo and feel free to ask me more stuff if you have questions#xs#raimundo#raimundo pedrosa#xiaolin showdown
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I've been doing some research on Angie and pacific islanders, and here's what I've decided I'm going to do with her:
She's fairly Native Hawaiian coded, so I'm going to go full hog on that and make her Native Hawaiian.
From there, I'm going to keep her personality and core background traits that lead up to her personality--but I'm going to essentially scrap everything and everything because holy fuck Kodaka did you really have to be that racist about it.
Like I didn't realize it but holy fuck I don't think there's a single instance in her FTEs and Salmon Mode Dates where she doesn't at least mention some incredibly racist caricature thing being a part of her "culture."
This being in relation to the blood sacrifices, human sacrifices, implied child sacrifices, implied savagery/lesser civilization, ectect. There's just. So much here that I think it's time to throw out the whole suitcase and use actual references to Native Hawaiian culture.
I'm gonna have to do a butt ton of research... but I think it'll be worth it in the end.
Also, I know this one isn't Kodaka's fault, but from my limited research done so far, Angie's god, "Atua," is actually more or less multiple gods--though it can be used to describe "God" in more modern times, it is traditionally used to refer to multiple gods. I know in the original Japanese version she uses "Kami", which I think is a loose term for God/the gods? Still, the singular instance of Atua isn't technically wrong, but it does kind of feel... wrong, if you know what I mean?
Anyway.
#Not tagging this because holy shit on a stick#There are some things I've come to accept and even love about V3's writing. Angie being a racist caricature is not one of them.#Like for example: Maki's events showing a more human side to her and how she desperately wants to be a normal girl. This I can greatly--#--appreciate about her character. Good shit.#Angie's character isn't even like; bad#remove her backstory (and mentions of the racist caricature traits) and she's a great character with a lot of potential#just#jesus fuck. That backstory.#Throwing that rotting suitcase out and making my own no thank you#Side note I'm going to look into the idea of like#there being a specific god that is a god of art#and that will be the Atua she mostly refers to if I can find one#But I'm notoriously bad at research and the internet has become even worse about it so uh#wish me luck
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u r so correct. how did you know i sincerely love canon accurate jesus christ. you dont even follow my ig where i occasionally repost bible fanart to my story lmao
#doinkus.txt#religious symbolism and modern interpretations like this mean so much to me actually#insert the idea ive been sitting on for a good minute to depict katdeen everniss as holy and jam pack that bitch with religious imagery#specifically in a drawing with a halo and/or in a oneshot during the scene in the hospital when she interacts with the pre-bombed patients#and her simply being there is palpably hopeful and powerful. one could even say. the spirit of god was there. messiah parallels. et cetera.#and liek theres a line that says smthn like the people touched her as she walked through the crowd. very jesus christ core tbh.#theyd probably be complimentary pieces but i havent gotten around to writing em yet :p#and also id want to do background research on christianity for the Full Effect#man this accidentally turned into an infodump whoopsies
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LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! FIRST YEAR ACTUALLY WINNING NANOWRIMO!!!!!! YOU WISH YOU WERE ME!!!!!!!!!
#.txt#THIS IS THE POWER OF HYPERFIXATION. OBSERVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#anyways. uh. guess who actually only finished part one with this :3c and has like 25-50k more to write depends on how it all goes. teehee.#when i started this i was 100% convinced it would be done even before 50k. idk how i convinced myself of that tbqh.#<- i'm in the exact same boat now w/ convincing myself part two can be done in 25k and not necessarily 50k#but yeah. jesus christ. this is crazy. I'VE NEVER WON BEFORE!!!! i did nano in 2017 & 2022 but both times I didn't even get past 20k AT MOS#so i was 100% not expecting to win LMAOOO. i'm so happy. holy shit.
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love language
bucky barnes x reader
word count: 6.6k
snapshots of your relationship with bucky told through the five love languages.
“remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
warnings/tags: smut, oral, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, wound care, brief uses of alcohol, anxiety and self-doubt, language, reader is afab, avenger!reader, fluffier than what i typically write, undercover mission, friends to lovers!!! 18+ only
Acts of Service
“Exciting Friday night?” Your head snaps up at the masculine voice. You nearly slosh hot tea on both yourself and the pages of the book that lay open in your lap. You're surprised to see him - as far as you were aware, Bucky and Sam were in Munich. You didn't think they were supposed to be back in the country for another two days.
“Something like that,” you answer, regaining your composure as you bring the mug to your lips. “What are you doing back so early? Did recon go okay?”
Bucky lets out a long sigh as he plops down into the recliner, adjacent to where you're curled up on the sofa in the compound’s communal living room. His eyelids look heavier than normal, with dark circles underneath that aren't typically present. You place your cup of tea on the end table next to you and close the book before angling your body towards him, giving him your undivided attention.
“It was a shit-show,” he answers bluntly, voice laced with defeat. “HYDRA had the drop on us from the minute we entered Germany. What was supposed to be us just gathering intel turned into an ambush. One minute, it was just the two of us in an old warehouse, and then the next..” he trails off, eyes locked on one of the buttons of his tactical pants that he’s fidgeting with. “We’re lucky to have made it out. Sam was taken to med-bay as soon as we got back. Broken arm and collarbone, dislocated shoulder, possibly a few fractured ribs..” he lists off the injuries.
“Jesus,” you cringe, a death grip on the book in your hands as you listen to him summarize the mission. “Looks like you came out pretty unscathed in comparison.” You glance him over from head to toe, relieved to see no visible wounds or bruises.
“Yeah, well,” he starts, sitting forward and pulling the collar of his black t-shirt over to expose his right shoulder. Your eyes bulge when you see the obvious knife wound that the fabric had been concealing. “Not completely unscathed.”
“Holy shit, Bucky, why didn’t you go get this stitched up?” You stand up quickly, your book falling forgotten to the floor as you step closer to him to inspect the cut. There’s dried blood covering the surrounding skin of his chest and shoulder, with fresh blood still seeping from the opening of the wound. Even with the luxury of the Quinjet, a direct flight from Germany to New York is at least eight hours, who knows how long the cut had been steadily oozing–
“The bleeding has slacked off for the most part at this point,” he tries to assure you, attempting to cover the wound back up with his shirt. His shirt that, upon closer inspection, is thoroughly soaked through with blood. You all but smack his hand away so that you can continue to inspect the cut.
“It’s too deep,” you shake your head. “It needs stitches.”
“It’ll be fine by morning–” he starts to argue with you, but you’re already walking away from him, exiting the room to retrieve a first-aid kit kept in one of the shared bathrooms just down the hallway. Though you can’t currently see him, you have no doubt that he is shaking his head and rolling his eyes at you.
Before returning to the living room, you stop by the kitchen and grab a cold can of Blue Moon to help take the edge off. Upon reentering the living room, you find that he’s hunched over where he sits in the recliner, leaning forward to grab your book from where it had fallen on the rug.
“What were you reading before I so rudely interrupted you?” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in a smirk as he inspects the cover of the book.
“The Hunger Games,” you answer simply as you place the first-aid kit on the couch and hold out the beer to him. He accepts the drink, a small, surprised smile appearing on his face.
“Shirt,” you instruct a second later, turning to him with a warm, wet rag that you intend to clean some of the dried blood off with. Surprisingly, he obliges your request, placing both the beer and the book in his lap to pull the bloodied fabric over his head.
“And what exactly is The Hunger Games about?” he asks, looking up at you through his thick lashes before turning his attention back to the book in his lap. He flips it over, skimming the words on the back cover.
“The Hunger Games,” you begin as you delicately swipe the damp washcloth across the dirty skin around his wound, watching as the material turns from white to pink as it collects the old blood. “Are dystopian fiction novels. The books get their title from an annual event in which a boy and a girl, ranging from the ages of twelve to eighteen, from twelve different districts are selected by name-drawing to compete in a fight to the death. Twenty-four go into an arena, one comes out.”
“Sheesh,” Bucky grimaces and pops the tab to the beer. You turn away from him, placing the soiled washcloth on the table next to him before retrieving some disinfectant from the kit. “And what’s the point in having a bunch of children kill each other?”
“Punishment and control,” you shrug, pouring some of the clear liquid on a large gauze pad until it’s soaked. He gives you a vague nod, signaling he’s ready for you to clean the wound. You dab the drenched cotton along the opening of the wound, wincing more visibly than Bucky does himself. “The districts where the children are reaped from have had uprisings against the nation’s Capitol in the past. The games are to punish them, as well as to remind them what power the Capitol holds.”
Bucky’s brows furrow together, contemplating your words. You make the initial incision for his stitches and he lets out a grunt of discomfort. “Sorry,” you mumble, concentrating on the stitchwork.
“So what happens?” He asks after a few moments of silence, obviously trying to distract himself from the needle going in and out of his tender flesh as he sips on the amber colored liquid. “The group of kids rebel and take down the Capitol?”
“You’re not too far off,” you chuckle lightly. “I guess you’ll just have to read them for yourself to find out.”
“I suppose I will,” he says, eyeing your needlework from the corner of his eye. “Will you let me borrow your copies when I finish The Lord of the Rings?”
“You’re reading The Lord of the Rings?” you fail at hiding your tone of surprise, more focused on finishing suturing his cut.
“Don’t act so shocked,” he feigns insult. “I read when I have the free time to do so.” He turns his head towards you for the first time since you began stitching, causing you to realize just how close his face is to your own. You push down the fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach at the close proximity, clearing your throat as you turn to grab a pair of small medical scissors. You clip the thread before backing away from him.
“That should hold you together well enough until your supernatural super-soldier healing abilities take care of it while you sleep.”
He stands from his position in the recliner, holding out your book to you. “Thank you,” he tells you sincerely. “For the stitches, and the beer.”
“Of course,” you say as you take your book back from him. “Don’t want you getting blood all over the compound.”
“I think I’m gonna go check on Sam,” he sighs. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”
“Get some rest!” you demand as he retreats to the hallway.
“Yes ma’am,” he calls without looking back, his Brooklyn drawl making an appearance.
For the rest of the night, you try to focus on your book and not the way you felt when his plush pink lips and cerulean blue eyes were just inches from your face.
Receiving Gifts
One week later
Punctuality has never been your strong-suit, but you didn’t expect to be the very last person to arrive at Bucky’s birthday party - get together, as he insists on calling it, since he feels silly having a birthday party at over one hundred years old. However, as you’re approaching the pavilion at the compound’s lake, you see that all of your friends are already mingling comfortably.
Natasha, Sharon, and Wanda wave at you from where they lounge next to the bonfire, Steve and Sam are engaged in an intense game of beer pong (which Sam seems to be doing impressively well at, considering one arm is still in a cast and sling), Clint and Bruce are playing cornhole - everyone is here, though you don’t see the one person you came for.
You make your way over to a picnic table closer to the lake that has been dedicated to presents so that you can add yours to the pile. You had ordered the gift a week ago, the same night that you had stitched up Bucky’s shoulder wound, and it arrived just in time - in today's mail, only an hour ago.
Hence the reason you are the last to arrive with a shittily-wrapped present in hand.
“Is that Avengers wrapping paper?” You whirl around at the amused voice to see Bucky walking towards you.
“That it is,” you confirm. “You and I aren't featured, though. Just the OGs,” you shrug, staring down at the cartoon depictions of Steve and the others.
“I was starting to wonder if you weren't going to come.” He says lightheartedly, nodding in the direction of everyone else.
“Your present didn't get delivered until the last minute,” you explain, giving the box-shaped object in your hand a shake. “Didn't want to show up empty handed.”
“You didn't have to get me a gift at all,” he says reassuringly, but eyes the present curiously. “But since you almost missed my party over it, I should open it right away.” He holds his hands out expectantly, almost childlike.
You roll your eyes, handing over the poorly packaged present. You had never been the best at gift-wrapping, usually preferring to reuse bags.
“I did not almost miss your party. It's just now eight o'clock,” you defend yourself, staring at the sun that's just starting to set over the lake's horizon, painting the New York sky in hues of orange and purple.
He smirks, walking past you to place the present on the table. You watch as he rips the wrapping paper away unceremoniously, until the gift is revealed.
“I know you had asked to borrow my copies,” you begin, suddenly feeling nervous as you watch him look over the box set of the first edition of The Hunger Games trilogy. “But my copies are old, and tattered, and have been annotated to shit, so.. I thought maybe you'd like your own,” you shrug nonchalantly.
He studies the box, pulling out the first book and glancing it over with a look you can't quite decipher. There's a faint hint of rose on his cheeks, and the lines around his eyes crinkle when he turns his head to look at you.
“Thank you,” he says with a soft, earnest smile. “This is incredibly thoughtful of you. I'm going to start reading them–”
“This pizza is getting cold!” You hear Sam's voice bellow from under the pavilion a few yards away. “I'm about to dig in with or without the birthday boy.”
You exhale through your nose, a half laugh, half sigh and look at Bucky expectantly. “Pretty sure you're the only birthday boy here.”
“I guess that's my cue,” he sighs as he places the books with the rest of his unopened gifts. “Thanks again, really. It's my favorite gift,” he adds with a sly grin as he begins to walk towards Sam and the table of pizza boxes.
“You haven't even opened the others yet,” you point out, following in his steps.
“Don’t need to open any of the others to know that yours is my favorite.”
Words of Affirmation
Two weeks later
Overstimulated. That's the best word to describe the way you're currently feeling.
Nervous, uncomfortable, irritable, a little hungry, even - any of those words would suffice, too. But with the way the velvet fabric of your dress hugs your hips too tightly, the way that the conversation of the drunk party guests roars in your ears, and the way that the heels of your feet already burn in your platform wedges so early in the evening, you think overstimulated sums up your current state the best.
You fidget with the extravagant ring that adorns your left ring finger, twisting it back and forth and rubbing the pad of your right thumb across the oval-shaped stone.
You aren't even supposed to be here, your brain keeps reminding you. It was supposed to be Natasha. Natasha, who has a boatload of undercover operations experience. But then she had to come down with the flu. Natasha, who never gets sick with anything more than a head cold, bedridden with the flu the day before a highly anticipated undercover mission that you are now taking her place in.
It's not that you hadn't been part of an undercover operation before - you had. You just hadn't been part of any undercover operation that required you to pose as someone's wife before.
Definitely not Bucky's wife.
The two of you had just arrived at the party no more than thirty minutes ago and you had spent the entirety of that time thinking that you wouldn't be able to make this believable; that everyone would see how anxious and awkward you feel and just know - just know that you weren't meant to be here and that it's abundantly clear that you and Bucky aren't actually together.
“Ivanov just arrived,” Bucky's voice murmurs next to your ear as he walks up behind you, snapping you out of your self-doubt induced trance. His left hand, disguised using nano-tech to look like a human, flesh hand, comes to rest against the small of your back and his right hand extends the drink that he retrieved for you from the bar.
“How'd you know I like lemon drops?” You ask, instantly recognizing the pale yellow liquid in the martini glass.
“I'm your husband. It's part of my job to know your go-to cocktail,” he smirks, looking at you in a way that almost makes you believe his words. “Besides, I'd know your drink of choice anyway. You always order a lemon drop.”
You clear your throat, breaking his stare by checking out the fellow attendees and event staff filtering through the ballroom. You slowly sip the sour liquid, trying to focus on the burn of the vodka and not the heat radiating across the skin of your back from him simply resting his fingers against the material of your dress.
“So where's Ivanov?” you break the tension. The illegal arms dealer that you'd been assigned to spy on was nowhere to be seen.
“He should be showing his face any minute now,” Bucky answers, a hint of displeasure in his voice. “I overheard some men at the bar saying he had just arrived in a three million dollar Bugatti with his twenty year old girlfriend.” You visibly cringe at the numbers. Ivanov had to be approaching senior citizen status at this point.
“Can't say that I'd expect anything else from him,” you sigh, attempting to wipe the disgust from your features. “What’s our game plan from here? Hover close by him and listen in on conversations–”
“Dance with me,” Bucky interrupts, his eyes locked on something on the opposite side of the room. You follow his gaze, realizing that Ivanov has entered with his exceptionally youthful girlfriend on his arm. Bucky extends his own arm to you, which you accept after tossing back the last sip of your drink and setting the empty glass on a table behind you.
He guides you to the center of the dance floor where several other couples are swaying to classical piano music. Ivanov mingles with a small group of questionable looking men just a few feet behind you, where Bucky is able to keep an eye on him.
He places one hand on your waist, using the other to hold one of yours in his own as he begins to slowly sway both of you to the rhythm of the music. Your free hand rests on the back of his neck, where you nervously twirl a tuft of his hair between your perfectly manicured fingers (you tried not to take too much offense to Sharon rushing you to the first salon she could find yesterday to help you look the part).
Bucky huffs a low laugh before using his grip on your hip to tug you closer to him, closing an awkward amount of space that separates your chest from his.
“If we want this to be believable, you’re gonna have to act like you kind of like me,” he murmurs lowly so that no one near you overhears. His face is just inches from yours - the scent of sandalwood from his aftershave and spearmint from his mouthwash is dizzying. Add in the fact that the lemon drop you had just quickly downed was heavy on the vodka, it’s a miracle that you’re still standing upright in these ridiculous heels that Sharon had picked out for you.
“I do like you,” you huff, your cheeks warming. “Not liking you isn’t the problem.” His gaze shifts away from where Ivanov stands a few yards behind you and down to your face.
“What is the problem then?”
You stare at his hand that holds yours, your eyes fixated on the brilliant diamond of your faux wedding ring. “For starters, I don’t really know how to slow dance,” you half-mumble. As if on cue, your left ankle shifts ever so slightly in your shoe, causing you to wobble. Bucky tightens his grasp on both your waist and hand to help steady you. He cackles - loudly enough for an old lady walking by to give him a side-eye.
“I think it’s pretty unlikely that our cover gets blown because you’re a little unsteady,” he whispers reassuringly. It does little to ease the lump of anxiety that has settled in your gut.
“It’s not just my lack of dancing experience,” you retort. “It’s all of this. I’m a bit out of my element here and I can’t help but feel like Natasha would have been able to do a much better–”
“Hey, hey,” he soothes, beginning to massage his thumb over the skin of your hand in languid, circular motions. You can’t decide if it’s the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins or if it’s just the fact that it’s him, but it feels as though there’s a continuous trail of hot sparks everywhere his skin touches yours. “You've got this. If anyone’s got this, it's you. You've handled missions far more daunting than this with ease, right?”
You finally shift your eyes to meet his gaze. His deep blue eyes bore into yours with utmost sincerity. You give him a small nod of agreement and a tight-lipped, uncertain smile.
He leans in closer so that his mouth hovers just next to your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps down the expanse of your neck and shoulders.
“And remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
The slow, gentle swaying motions you'd been forcing your body to perform come to a sudden halt. You look at Bucky as if he's grown a second head. He’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin spread from ear to ear.
“Did you just quote Peeta Mellark?”
“I finished up the first book yesterday,” he shrugs as if his words hadn't just made your heart skip several beats. “Now let's get this job over with so we can go discuss the book in detail over some greasy diner food, yeah?”
Quality Time
The mere thought of getting the fuck out of that giant estate and away from Ivanov and the other countless skeevy party-goers to gorge on greasy diner food was more than enough motivation to get you through the duration of the mission.
Of course, it helped that Ivanov is a lightweight drunk with no concept of volume control. After a couple drinks, he handed the location of his next illegal arms deal to you and Bucky on a silver platter - without ever even noticing the two of you dancing just feet away from him.
“I'm sending the audio recording over to you right now,” Bucky says as he types on his cell phone. The two of you are currently in a drugstore parking lot half an hour away from the estate, sitting in the Audi SUV that you'd been given for this evening’s mission.
“Got it,” Sam’s voice booms through the car’s Bluetooth speakers a second later. “You guys did great back there. Go ahead and get back to the compound for debriefing.”
Your eyes flash to the time on the vehicle's touchscreen display - 10:06 pm. You can feel your stomach churning from hunger and your skin itching to get out of the restrictive velvet fabric, the last thing you wanted to do at this hour was go to a fucking debriefing.
“About that..” Bucky starts, noticing your disappointed expression and tense posture. “Debriefing is going to have to wait until the morning.”
“We should really get any details while they are still fresh–”
“What’s that? Sam? Sorry, you're breaking up, can't understand what you're–”
Bucky's flesh finger touches a button on the digital display screen and the call disconnects before he finishes his sentence.
“You know he's going to call back any second, right?” You ask after a moment of loaded silence. Bucky says nothing at first. You watch as he powers off his phone, and then grabs yours from its location in the center cup holder and powers it off, as well.
“I fully anticipate him trying,” he answers as he puts the car in reverse and peels out of the nearly vacant parking lot. “But I promised you a potentially gut-rotting meal, and I'm going to keep that promise.”
Half an hour later, you and Bucky sit opposite each other in a cozy, corner booth of the only open diner in a five mile radius. It's half diner, half arcade, and the two of you are some of the only people here save for the teenage couple making out next to the jukebox in the gaming area. You both look out of place - him in his black satin suit and you in your burgundy colored dress with the thigh-slit, but you're too relieved to be eating to care.
He's already scarfed down a fried chicken sandwich and is rapidly making his way through a pile of mozzarella sticks. You're eating a fat stack of blueberry pancakes and the best loaded hash browns that you think you've ever had.
Breakfast foods hit different at eleven o'clock at night.
“I'm just saying, Katniss is kind of oblivious,” Bucky shrugs with a mouthful of fried cheese. “It's obvious that Peeta was never just pretending to be in love with her.”
“That's a big assumption coming from someone who hasn't even started the second book yet,” you say as you fork a bite of pancake into your mouth.
He throws his hands up in mock defense, covering his now empty plate up with a dirty napkin.
“You're not wrong though,” you admit. “She did miss a lot of signs, and she's not always the most reliable narrator.”
He responds with a small hum as he watches you finish your pancakes with a soft smile that shows his laugh lines and the dimple of his left cheek.
His smile turns to something more curious as the young couple who had been making out in the arcade room earlier dashes past your booth and out the back door of the restaurant.
“What is it?” You ask, pushing your empty plate towards the center of the table.
“The game room is free now,” he states, as if it's obvious. “Now I can kick your ass in air hockey.”
And kick your ass in air hockey he does. And skee ball, and Dance Dance revolution.
“Please don't tell Natasha that you beat me at Dance Dance Revolution,” you beg him as you pick up your high heels that you had discarded for the game. “She'll never let me live that one down. In fact, if anyone asks, it was a dead tie for all of these games.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” he chuckles, approaching the pool table in the center of the room and leaning against the edge. “As long as you win this game of pool.”
“No, nope, absolutely not,” you freeze where you're standing, crossing your arms over your chest. “If I couldn't beat you at air hockey then I don't stand a chance of beating you at pool.”
He ignores you, instead turning to choose two cue sticks from the selection on the back wall. He tosses one to you from several feet away, which you instinctively drop your shoes to the floor to catch.
“I haven't even tried to play pool since I was maybe ten years old,” you whine.
“Why were you trying to play pool at ten years old?” he chuckles, gathering up all of the balls and placing them inside the triangular rack in the center of the table.
“It was at a birthday party,” you admit. “I pretended to know what I was doing to impress a boy that I had a crush on.”
“And how did that go for you?” He removes the triangle-shaped container from around the balls and begins to line up his shot.
“Well, I haven't tried to play pool since then,” you begin, taking a seat on the edge of the table and turning your head to watch him. He pulls the cue stick back and quickly stabs it forward, breaking the balls apart and sending them rolling in various directions across the felt table. “And Kyle from my fourth grade class thought that I had cooties, so, you tell me how you think that went for me.”
“Sounds like it was Kyle's loss.” You watch as he walks to one of the table's pockets to look inside. “I've got stripes,” he states, looking at you with an expectant smile.
You exhale a dramatic sigh, hopping off the edge of the table and turning around to position your stick in front of the cue ball.
“Fine,” you relent, looking up at him from where you're leaning over across the table. “But you're not allowed to laugh at me when you realize I wasn't lying about having no experience at this.”
“Scout's honor,” he swears and you can tell by his smile and reddened cheeks that he’s already trying to contain his laughter.
Feeling extra nervous due to the way you can physically feel him watching you, you take an embarrassing amount of time working up the courage to propel the tip of the cue stick towards a solid purple colored ball.
It travels a foot or so across the green felt material of the table and comes to a stop just inches away from a corner pocket.
“Damn it,” you sigh under your breath.
“That wasn't too bad, actually,” he says, not even trying to conceal his tone of surprise as he walks over to where you're standing. “You just need to change your stance a little and hit the ball a bit harder.”
“So, do basically everything differently, then?”
“I can help you, if you want,” he offers with a smug grin.
“Hm,” you bite your lip as you pretend to contemplate the proposition. “Okay,” you accept with a shrug. “But this better not be an attempt to pull a cliche “pretend to help her with pool as an excuse to make a move” kind of move.” You're fully joking - you know Bucky well enough to know he wouldn't make such a corny, obvious move with anyone - and you definitely wouldn't expect him to do so with you.
But you don't miss the way his expression darkens ever so slightly and his eyes sweep up your figure before moving to stand behind you, propping his own cue stick up against the table.
The front of your thighs brush up against the edge of the table and Bucky’s arms enclose you on either side - his hands coming to rest next to each of your legs on the table's edge, as close as they can be to you without actually touching.
Your breath hitches in your throat when the silky material of his suit brushes against your bare shoulders, the sensation causing you to go deadly still as you await his next move.
“With how fast your heart is beating right now, I don't think I would have to do something as cheesy as that to make a move.” He murmurs, his mouth close enough to the exposed skin of your neck that you can feel the heat of his breath. It's an automatic response, the way your head tilts back into his touch. You start to pull away, start to feel embarrassed, start to tell him just how wrong he is, when he brings a flesh finger to the ball of your shoulder and trails his index finger down the skin of your arm, eliciting a surge of goosebumps in its wake.
This physical reaction doesn't go unnoticed by him, either. He hums a small laugh, inching closer to you so that his body presses against your ass.
“In fact,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “I think that if I wanted to, I could have you bent over this table for me without having to resort to anything like that.”
If his chest wasn't pinning you between him and the pool table, you probably would have fallen over. The air in the arcade feels a sudden ten degrees warmer and you swear you can hear your blood pumping in your ears - things that unfortunately can't be blamed on the effects of the martini that had dissipated from your system hours ago.
No, it's all him. His closeness, his warmth, his voice, his scent. Just him.
“If you wanted to, yeah?” You question, your voice an octave higher than you ideally would have liked. “That makes it sound like you don't want to. But the bulge I'm feeling from your pants makes it seem like you do want to. Kinda sending me mixed signals here.” You rut back against him for good measure.
He hisses next to your ear, his hands snapping to your hips, effectively stilling you beneath him. His fingers dig into the flesh around your hip bones, the pressure somewhere perfectly between uncomfortable and pleasurable.
“Here? Bent over this table?” he tuts, his lips grazing the skin next to the shoulder strap of your dress. “Where a couple of unsuspecting teenagers could walk in for a game of skee ball at any second?” He lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating against your back.
“No, I don't think so,” he continues. “Not when we've got a brand new Audi with a spacious backseat and highly tinted windows just outside this building.”
Physical Touch
If someone had asked you six hours ago if you thought there was a chance you would be ending this night by having sex with Bucky Barnes, you would have said no.
But if someone had asked you if you thought there was a chance you would be having sex with Bucky Barnes in the backseat of a car in a diner-arcade combo parking lot, you would have said fuck no.
You would have been wrong on both accounts. And with the way that he's nipping and sucking up the insides of your thighs, you're pretty fucking okay with that.
Your dress is bunched up around your waist, your panties discarded on the floor of the car. You're laying as comfortably as you can across the backseat with Bucky nestled snuggly between your legs. It's a tight fit, and the stagnant air inside the Audi is balmy, but you'll be damned if you interrupt this to turn the AC on. The only light inside the vehicle is from the glow of the full moon that illuminates the sky, and the giant neon green diner sign a few yards away from where you're parked.
He's not wasting any time - it's well past midnight at this point and considering the fact that Bucky turned your cell phones off hours ago, you're surprised that Sam hasn't traced the location of the vehicle and sent search and rescue already.
As soon as his mouth makes contact with your center, you’re lacing your fingers through his short, soft locks and tugging on them. You grind your pussy against his face, meeting his fervent motions with your own. He locks his lips around your clit before pulling away with an obscene, wet pop that echoes through the cab of the car.
He reaches one hand up to your shoulders while keeping his lips on you, quickly tugging down the spaghetti straps of your dress and then pawing at the fabric covering your chest to free your tits.
At the same time that he plunges his tongue inside you, he rolls a nipple between two of his cool, metal digits, yearning a sharp yelp from you. He releases his grip and then palms your breast in his hand, continuing to work your folds with his lips and tongue.
You don't know if it's the fact that it's been a ridiculous amount of time since you so much as kissed someone or the fact that Bucky eats pussy like he's starving, but you're approaching your climax insanely fast.
You clench your thighs around his ears and push your hips upwards, the friction building that warm tension in your lower belly that comes spilling over when he lets out a guttural moan across your core.
You cum against his face, feeling your juices drip down the insides of your thighs - there's a pesky voice in the back of your head telling you that you're going to have to pay to have this car detailed before giving it back.
He sits up, his back resting against the middle of the leather seat. He unbuttons and unzips his suit pants, raising off the seat just enough to tug them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. You're still coming down from your orgasm when he's pulling you up from the seat and into a sitting position.
You tuck your legs underneath you so that you're propped up on your knees on the seat directly next to him. Bucky pumps himself in his hand as you lean over, gathering all of the saliva in your mouth and letting it slide between your lips and over the head of his cock.
You push his hand away to replace it with your own, using your spit as lubrication as you stroke him up and down. He throws his head back against the headrest, looking up at the roof of the car as he brings his hand around the curve of your ass, flesh hand finding your pussy that's still throbbing from how hard he had made you cum.
You can feel the smooth band of the engagement ring that you'd been wearing all evening repeatedly caress a large vein on the side of his dick - you remove your hand from him, causing him to snap his head back down to look at you. You bring your other hand to remove the ring from your finger, planning to tuck it into a cup holder for safekeeping while you use your hands on him.
“Leave it on,” he breaks the thick silence when he realizes what you're doing. “Want you to keep wearing it.”
You push the ring back down on your finger, his command sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You're extending your hand back to his cock when he cuts you off, pulling you to him and across his lap.
You straddle him, his erection locked between your pussy lips and his lower belly. You move forwards, and then backwards - earning another deep groan from him as you coat the underbelly of his cock in your juices. You grind up and down against him several times, until you're feeling impossibly empty and can't take the feeling of not having him inside you any longer.
You lift yourself up on the balls of your feet, high enough for him to guide himself to your entrance. He teases your hole with his head - or at least tries to, before you're sinking yourself down onto his length. You go still for a moment when he's fully inside you, giving you both time to adjust to the new, overwhelming sensation of each other.
You begin to ride him, slowly at first - he stretches you blissfully sweet and soon you're picking up the pace, your ass bouncing off of his thighs with each comedown.
He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face down to his in a sloppy, searing kiss. It hits you that he's inside you raw right now, and you're just now kissing. You taste yourself on him, warm and salty sweet. He sweeps his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up for him, letting him explore your mouth from the perfect angle that he's at beneath you.
He continues to kiss you but removes his hand from the back of your neck, moving both of them to cup your ass. He begins to meet your movements with his own, thrusting himself upwards so that his cock is ramming into that sweet spot of your cervix and sending you towards a second climax.
“Feel so fuckin’ good,” you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss for air. Your encouragement spurs him on, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Your legs turn to jelly beneath you, but he's got you - he holds you up by your ass cheeks and leans forward to take one of your nipples in his warm mouth.
It's enough to send you over the edge again. Your orgasm builds, heat exploding through your abdomen as his movements grow erratic and he spills into you from below.
He stills beneath you when you're both spent, your chest heaving against his. You make no effort to remove yourself from him, and he seems more than happy to keep you right where you are - his arms locking around your waist and pulling you close to him.
“I guess now would be as good of a time as any to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me sometime?”
“Go on a date with you sometime?” You lean back, looking down with him with the limited amount of moonlight and neon lighting that breaks through the tinted windows. “We dressed up real nice, slow danced, spied on a bad guy, ate greasy diner food, played arcade games, and you're inside me as we speak. I think it's safe to say we're currently on a date.”
He snorts, breaking into laughter beneath you. “A second date, then,” he concedes. “I would love to take you on a second date.”
♡♡♡♡♡
thank you for reading!!! kind of nervous to put this one out there tbh, i've been working on it off and on for weeks but i love how it turned out and i hope you all do too. as always comments and reblogs are very appreciated 💕
it's nice to have a friend
moth to a flame
oil & water
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction
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I’m back…had a random thought when listening to men moaning and I just had to write it for y’all.. you know the drill, bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock
Smut fic—in which reader has the terrible experience of being able to read minds. It was fun at first when you first found out at age ten.. but then it just got bad because you couldn’t control it
Hearing your mom’s thoughts about your dad was traumatizing to say the least. As you grew older, you basically learned to tune people out by filling your head with your own thoughts. It usually works.
And it was your usual day in your philosophy class at the university you dreamed of going to.. and it was the usual in that you sat next to this random girl who slept the entire time. Which was good, you didn’t have to worry about her thoughts.
But much to your surprise, someone sat next to you. It was pretty shocking. This guy was “popular” in the sense he was handsome and everyone wanted to be near him.
He usually only sat next to his friends but today he was next to you..? Odd—but you didn’t care that much. You now had to focus on making sure his thoughts didn’t distract you from your professor..
But you did want to take a little peak—just to see what a guy like him would be thinking. At most, you expected him to be focused on taking notes
This guy… is he an actor, you thought to yourself. He looked to be paying attention but the only thing on his mind was sex.. with you.
And not just a fleeting glimpse of sex. it was.. wow, pretty graphic.
He was fantasizing about fucking you in an empty classroom. The classroom you two were in right now. You sprawled on the teacher’s desk, back arched with your legs being pushed towards you.
He was fucking you. Very harsh. He had a very vivid dream of how you’d look fucked out on the table—your moans filling the empty classroom.
His fantasy was solely on you. How you cried, how you arched your back, how you whined his name.. suddenly, he was holding tightly on your neck, lightly squeezing it while his thrusts began to practically knock your breath away.
“You sound so cute.. but you can be louder, yeah?” His fantasy self said to you, reaching down and slapping your ass which earned a scream. Which embarrassingly enough caused you to flinch in real life.
Okay, that’s enough..! You thought to yourself, looking away with a blush. Holy shit. This random guy… was dreaming about having sex with you?! But you guys didn’t even speak.. why.. did he like you?
You couldn’t help but glance over at him, trying hard to not let his thoughts flood your mind again. He was certainly hot—which made sense why a lot girls kept fangirling about him.. Black hair slicked back with gel, a nice nose, plump lips girls were jealous of, a lean body, cat-like eyes..
why was he into you?
He could have anyone.. but he’s thinking about you?
By accident, a slip of his thoughts flooded you again. He wasn’t thinking about sex anymore, he was actually focused on his notes. With a sigh, you decided to believe you were just going crazy and took a sip from your water bottle.
‘His mouth is so small.. would it actually be able to fit around my cock?’
You coughed heavily as water slipped out of your mouth. Much to your shock, the perverted guy handed you some tissues to wipe your mouth. You muttered a thank you, cleaning your chin and mouth.
Jesus, this guy is going to be the death of you.
‘He’s so cute…I hope he likes guys…’
You sighed, happy that he was finally thinking about you normally.
‘Ah.. what if it was my cum instead of water on his lips..? Oh, too much don’t wanna pop a boner in class.’
You could only cough once more in shock and cover your ears. Oh, you needed him away from you fast. But it seemed like he was going to actually start pursuing you soon..
But what you really wondered is if you could survive hearing his thoughts on a daily basis.. and by the embarrassing boner you were sporting right now
Yeah, you were going to be having boners in philosophy often.
‘Does he even like giving blowjobs..? Hope so.. it’d be hot cumming in his mouth..having it overflow.. oops, boner!’
This was going to be a long day…
My first ever one where the guy actually thinks and technically talks… :0! This was fun if you guys want, I’ll definitely expand on it. For now, Imma continue the roommate for tmmr <3
Yoga instructor is coming soon, can’t wait to have an actual fic for him, it’ll be in 2nd person!
Tag list: @nakedtoasterr @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @the-ultimate-librarian @iwishtobeacrow (ask to added to my tag list to be tagged in all of my works :3)
#bottom male reader#uke male reader#oc x reader#smut drabble#smut ideas#mlm nsft#mlm ns/fw#x male reader#smut prompts
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Let's mess around
(MDNI, please reblog to support my writing.)
"Oh my gosh Jason, what the fuck are you doing?" you hissed at him, as you felt your pajama bottoms pulled down to your ankles, your panties pushed to the side,
"I don't like sleeping in a separate room from you." Jason replied, his fingers getting dangerously close to your area.
"Jason, we can't. The whole purpose of being here was to make sure Tim had the right incentive to lead the Titans." you whispered harshly, ignoring how his other hand came up and palmed your breast.
This was the first night of the week Jason and you had to observe Tim, and the fact that Jason had snuck out of his guest room, and into yours didn't bode well.
"Doll, you have no one to blame but yourself. When we were sparring and you put me in a headlock with your thighs..." he trailed off, slipping under your bra, and pinching your nipple.
A faint moan escaped you, and you put a hand over your mouth.
"Jason, I swear to-"
"It'll be quick and quiet, Ma. I just need your help taking care of this problem." he replied, his finger grazing your now swollen clit.
One of these days, you were going to kill him.
Maybe not now.
"Jason-" you stopped as you felt his teeth sink into the side of your breast, your heart stuttering a moment. It was dark to where you couldn't really see him, but you knew how he looked and felt like the back of your hand.
"I'm going all in, doll, please let me." he replied, his tongue tracing the side of your neck to your jaw.
Motherfuck-
"F-fine, but you better not make any noise." you relented, already feeling the fat blunt of his cock trace the opening of your pussy.
Jesus christ, was a few expert touches and bites from Jason was all it took to get you going? Were you really that big of a slut?
The answer appeared in the form of Jason shoving into you, a choked out gasp escaping your mouth.
Holy fuck, no matter how many times they had sex, it always took you a minute to adjust to his size.
You're basically grounding your teeth together as he splits you apart, his hands cupping and rubbing your breasts. Your bra was hastily torn off-one of many, thanks to Jason's methods-his fingers rubbing and pinching your nipples.
Once you figured out his game, you wanted to punch him.
Jason was trying to make you moan out loud.
His hips began a slow, steady, and deep thrust. He'd go all the way in you, and all the way out, the tip of his cock tickling your entrance as he speared right in.
And goddammitt, if it didn't feel so fucking good. Jason nestled upon you, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder, biting and sucking on your skin as he continued to thrust into you.
You couldn't even cover your mouth with your hands as he held on to them, soft pants escaping out of Jason.
And maybe by sheer willpower, or just stubbornness, you locked your jaw so you couldn't make a sound, only breathy gasps escaping you every time he thrusted in you.
Jason then pulled back, mouth giving you sloppy kisses, as he thoroughly tasted the inner of your mouth.
And that's where you were shit out of luck.
Now that he was making his tongue go in your mouth, there was nothing stopping you from moaning.
"You feel so fucking good on my cock, Ma, just my favorite pussy." he whispered against your mouth, his hands on your hips pulling you down and forcing to take him in deeper.
God, you weren't going to make it alive at this point.
Your legs began to shake, the first tell-tale sign that you're orgasm was drawing near.
And Jason was a very selfless lover; he'd make you cum two times over before he'd let himself cum once.
"Aw, Ma, you're squeezing me so tight. You feeling that good baby?" he spoke, bracing himself as he thrusts got rougher and harder, his hand reaching down and rubbing your clit.
Him doing that was your undoing; your body squeezed around his cock, and he grunted with effort to keep going.
Of course you came first, and he followed right after, collapsing on top of you.
Now, here you were, a mess in the sheets with a giant freak.
You tried to sit up to scold him or at least push him off, but considering you'd gone through the wringer, you decided sleep was the better option after all.
The next morning...
"And that is why I put you and Y/N in separate guest rooms." Tim said, his arms crossed as they held a Titans meeting.
Jason glared but you could feel a blush come over your skin.
This was going to be one long week indeed.
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Thoughts on a ‘the bodyguard’ AU with leon and reader BUT!!!! Reader is a superstar who is much more “sexualized” and basically records soft porn for their music videos. at first leon thinks he's going to deal with another girl who thinks shes all hot shit only to find out shes bound by contract and only wanted to sing and preform not do.. this. But shes wary of Leon bc she thinks Leon thinks can get her in bed.
Even better.. if shes a virgin… 👀
popular
re4 bodyguard!leon kennedy x famous!fem reader
— a oneshot (request)
warnings: MDNI, 18+, virgin reader (but not naive or inexperienced), leon being a big soft bodyguard, reader has insecurities, some mentions of body issues, mentions of anxiety around cameras, readers parents are assholes, everyone that’s not leon or reader is kind of an asshole (sorry), mentions of masturbating, praise, pet names (baby, sweet girl, etc), small age gap (reader is 21 & leon is 27), lots of kissing & praise, aftercare, soft!dom leon makes another appearance, sub!reader, oral (m receiving), and unprotected sex.
“she wants to argue. wants to refute the idea of even having a bodyguard. it’s ridiculous. even if stepping into a crowd with cameras pushed in her face and flashing lights makes her heart rate increase, not in the way she’d prefer. she waits for him to show up, she doesn’t even know who her agent hired but she’d rather hide and cower in fear then stand at her door like an idiot. finally, a knock at her door. she opens it without a second thought. the most devastating man on the other side of it, her resolve slips as he looks her up and down with a small click of his tongue, “nice to meet you, i’m leon.” and she seems to forget the reason she was arguing to begin with.”
— or reader gets a bodyguard and unknowingly signs up for more then protection in the process
masterlist taglist
an: HOLY SHIT UR A GENIUS <333 thank you for the request. i’ve been waiting for this, hopefully you enjoy it. i am a sucker for the bodyguard trope but throw in the fact that she’s a virgin and it’s almost like the bodyguard :,) jesus, y’all are geniuses. i’m sorry that this is so long in advance. take it as a peace offering for taking so long.
she has no idea what she signed up for.
not in the slightest.
she has no idea who her agent hired for protection but after her stunt last week in front of the paparazzi, she’s willing to bet it’s someone who knows what he’s doing.
after leaving her house last week, going to the strip to shop a little and having a day to herself. she got bombarded by the paparazzi for no reason, other then just simply being in the limelight and having cameras shoved in her direction.
she tried to avoid the millions of people with cameras, flashing bulbs and the annoying click of the cameras lens with their annoying and useless questions. one person in particular got a little too close and…
her anxiety spiked causing her to smack the persons camera out of their hand and cause him sending backwards on the sidewalk with the persons broken camera. she didn’t act rationally, there wasn’t room for that anymore. not when she was as famous as she was.
not when she closed her eyes she could hear the clicking of the cameras and the flashing of the lights and everything but her heart pounding her ribcage ceased to exist.
she hated it, she never wanted to be half-naked on magazine spreads, showing off her body on stage. she just wanted to sing for christ’s sake, wanted to write and preform the songs she’d written for years. but her fucking parents…her stupid agent. she hated all the people around her in her career secretly who made her into some sexualized object for people to gawk and stare at.
she felt like a circus act sometimes, not even a world renowned singer. she hated it, she really hated it. and not to mention, she’s a virgin. it’s like her career and the people around her are mocking her, taunting her with the idea of sex but not letting it within her reach.
it’s not like she still wanted to be a virgin at twenty-one. she didn’t but she couldn’t trust a single soul in her world, in her life that she could even begin to consider sharing that part of herself with.
so as she paced in the foyer of her house, waiting for this so called bodyguard that her agent hired to arrive, she couldn’t help but hate the idea. sure, she had anxiety with cameras and sure, she was unsafe every time she went out because of her status to the public.
and the fact that her agent didn’t even ask her before getting her a body guard, going behind her back and just doing it. another nail in the metaphorical coffin that was sure to send her spiraling one day. she ran a hand over her face and checked her apple watch on her wrist.
she didn’t wanna even think about the person that her agent hired. probably getting her someone who has more muscle mass then brains, and doesn’t think before he shoots a gun. in her case, if that’s it, she could just fire him.
a smile slid onto her face at the prospect, even though she really did need protecting. she just hoped it didn’t come back to bite her in the ass later. that was the last thing she needed in her already hectic life.
the doorbell rang and she smoothed out her yoga pants and baby tee, going to open the door. almost waiting to be disappointed when she opened the large piece of wood. but to no avail, she opened it and on the other side stood the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever laid her eyes on.
he seemed to be eyeing her the same way she was with him, she was suddenly very self conscious about her choice of clothing. almost wanting to run back up the stairs to her bedroom to change, his hard blue eyes scanning her from her feet to her eyes like he was analyzing her.
“nice to meet you, i’m leon.” he says with a small ghost of a smile on his features, she swallows and doesn’t know why she forgets her name all of a sudden. this cannot be her bodyguard, please tell me this is her agents idea of a cruel prank.
she nods and says her name, barely getting the words out. she tries to regain the confidence that she had before she opened the door, but it’s lost and she can no longer find it. “i know who you are,” he says with a small chuckle, “i’m sorry i’m late. they wouldn’t let me in at the gates.” he says with a small sigh as if reliving the moment in his head.
she side steps and lets him in, “yeah,” she laughs nervously as she watches him step past her and into her house. “they’re kind of paid to keep people out, not let them in.” she says with a small laugh that sounds nothing like herself. she shuts the door behind them both, letting him look around the interior of her house.
“i suppose their just doing their job then.” he says with a small amused click of his tongue as he moves through the entryway of her house. she stands behind him awkwardly, taking him in while he’s not looking.
he has to be six feet tall at least, or close to it. the suit he’s wearing doesn’t do him enough justice, his muscles are barely straining underneath the fabric. and how he smells…he’s like a cooling mix of mint and some other fragrance she can’t get a handle on.
“i suppose they are.” she says awkwardly as she makes her way past him and trails herself into the kitchen, letting him follow behind her. his shoes thudding against the hardwood polished flooring, making her heart pick up for a different reason entirely.
she grabs a drink from her fridge, trying to distract her brain and her eyes from the gorgeous man a few feet away from her. “would you like a drink?” she asks with a small nervous smile, keeping her eyes trained on the interior of the fridge rather than him. god, he just made her wet. just his presence was enough to make her feel horny.
he shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively, “i’m alright.” she nods and grabs a soda for herself out of her fully stocked fridge and shuts it behind her, cracking the soda and taking a sip. she manages to take a peek at him, he’s still looking around her house.
what could be so interesting about her house? she thinks to herself as she shifts on her feet, just watching him as she leans against her marble counter and sips her soda. his eyes seem to catch a piece of art in the kitchen, that was one of the perks about being subjected to being famous.
the art and things she had acquired, she had collected some pieces like trophies. just to prove to herself that not every part of being famous and having a lot of money was so terrible.
“you like art?” she asks softly as she shifts behind him, sipping on her soda again. she watched his blue eyes trace over the contours of the canvas in the kitchen. she just watches him take it in and devour it with his eyes.
she was kinda jealous of the painting.
just for a split second before he spoke and snapped her out of it, “i have a taste for it.” he says demurely, looking back over at her and away from the art. “so,” he eyes her up and down with those glacier blue eyes.
she swallows and shifts on her feet, looking back at him. “so?” she says with a small nervous smile. he sighs, “things are gonna be different from now on and i’m assuming you know that.” he says with a small brow raise, sticking his hands in his slack pockets.
she swallows and nods, “yeah, uhm, probably. my agent said that she gave you a rundown of everything that’s been going on.” she says nervously as she drinks more of her soda again and ducks her down for a split second. meeting his eyes was dangerous, it was like he could see right through her.
“exactly.” he clicks his tongue and moseys through the large kitchen, almost like he’s inspecting it as he talks, “i’m going to be with you all the time. i’ll escort you to places, even public outings that are simple. not another paparazzi fiasco will happen when i’m around.” he says firmly but his tone was gentle and smooth.
her cheeks blush a deep shade of scarlet, “you…heard about that?” she swallows as she looks back up at him from where he stood on the opposite side of her kitchen. he nods, a ghost of a smirk on his face, “who didn’t hear about that?” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice.
she had to give him that, it was on every publication after it happened. saying that she was violent towards the press when she simply just freaked out. cameras being shoved in her face, the flashing lights, the clicking of lenses, she hated it.
“that will never happen again, paparazzi will be controlled and away from you. put to a minimum, i’ll make sure of that.” he said with a tap of his fingers to the countertop of her kitchen. she sighs and nods, her mouth dry at just his presence alone. “i’ll protect you, okay? you’ve got nothing to worry about.” he said firmly.
she found comfort in leon’s words, more comfort then she should. she liked him already, maybe a little too much.
two weeks later, it was proving harder and harder to be around leon. she liked his presence, he was gentle and he never scolded her. he didn’t put pressure on her like everyone else did. he was simply doing his job and protecting her, like he was hired to do.
but she couldn’t ignore certain things about him, things that made her core heat up. he would always have his fingers splayed out on his thighs when he sat, and it was hard to not let her mind wander around. just imagining his hands on her, rubbing over her skin and coaxing noises out of her.
then there was the matter of him coming to her shoots, he would always keep his eyes trained on her. and seeing him and his eyes on her when she was basically wearing nothing for a shoot, it was beyond torture and it was like having another piece of sex dangled in front of her that she couldn’t have.
over time, in the next two weeks, she kept doing it for him. usually she’d have to fake acting sexy, fake her confidence but with his eyes on her. his blue irises trailing every movement, it was so easy to just pretend it was the two of them, fantasize for a small moment. it was the only way she got through shoots anymore.
as another week passed, then another, the constant presence of leon whether she went shopping was there. he was always watching her, watching other people. his gaze was so gentle, so firm and yet so cold. like he could snap someone’s neck with just a simple look. it was exciting and thrilling, making her uncomfortably aroused.
and whenever that happened, she went home, dismissed him for the day and went to her bedroom. she would slide her hand down her pants and just fantasize about him, his strong hands, his sharp jaw and the way his tone sometimes became gentle out of nowhere.
she would imagine that maybe one day, he would bend her over her kitchen counter, fuck her until she was a crying mess. he’d be gentle, but also rough and firm when it counted. she imagined all these things with her hands rubbing at herself.
it was becoming so unbearable to just be in his presence these days, he was just doing his job but it was so annoying. so annoying to be a virgin still and have a piece of eye candy basically follow you everywhere and always have his eyes on you.
the universe was taunting her again with her career, with her fame and she deeply despised it. she hoped secretly that she would just be put out of her misery sooner. she didn’t wanna be a virgin anymore.
one day, after hours at a shoot and grueling work, she went back to her house. leon escorted her back and she dismissed herself to go shower and clean up.
she needed to wash the filth of her career off of her body in one way or another. she fucking hated that she was forced into doing something by her parents and agent just so she could make money.
money was not everything. that was a proven fact.
after she showered, changed her clothes and did her skincare routine. she went downstairs, going into the kitchen to grab a soda. she needed calories, she didn’t give a fuck anymore. her mom, her dad and her agent could all shove it.
“a soda? it’s 4pm?” leon said from behind her at the island, his suited muscular body sitting on a stool and scrolling on his phone. she sighed, popping the can of soda open with a hiss, “your not my keeper. i can drink soda.” she says with a small frown.
“i personally don’t care what you do as long as it’s safe. i was just making an observation.” he says with a small ghost of a smirk down at his phone. why does he have to be so hot, this isn’t fair. she thinks to herself as she sips on her soda and nods.
“sorry, i’m just…” she starts and walks towards the marble island that separated them in the lavish kitchen. “i just don’t like being told what to do in every aspect of my life, i get a little touchy.” she says with a small sigh, brushing her damp hair over her shoulder.
he sits his phone down on the island, looking at her, “who tells you what to do? your parents?” he says with furrowed brows, he was almost confused. like he couldn’t understand why a 21 year old like herself was getting bossed around and told what to do.
“try my parents, my agent, and all of the people i employ.” she says with a small frown as she sips on her soda, looking down at the marble counter top of the island.
he sighs and shifts on the stool he’s perched on, “they’re all controlling?” he asks with a small look of confusion on his lovely features. she swallows back a little bit of her nerves, “i didn’t want this.” she says honestly.
she doesn’t feel like she has to hide everything from him all the time, not after he’s been around her a month, almost two. “i didn’t want to be…this.” she gestures to the house around him, she looked up at him and unflinchingly met his strong blue gaze.
she continued, “all i’ve ever wanted was to do things my way. my career, my life. i have never had a choice. my parents, my label and my agent have all made sure of that.” she feels her mouth drying up as she continues to speak. like all the things that have been pent up were pouring out of her.
and leon just listened, nodding when he wanted to or when it was needed. he wasn’t being paid to be her therapist, or anything other then her bodyguard. but he was listening, he was understanding her. her frustrations and the things that made her tick, made her upset.
“so let me get this straight.” he says after she explains and basically rants to him, raising a hand as his eyes shut in frustration and in something that border-lined on concern.
“you’ve just wanted to sing, to write music and preform. but your parents, your label and…your agent they’ve all made you into this sex symbol just because of the money?” he says with a small open to his blue eyes again, they were so powerful and untouchable, just like him. no wonder he was her bodyguard.
she nods with a dry mouth, sipping on her soda again, forgetting it was beside her on the counter. “pretty much.” she said with a sad laugh, shifting on her bare feet against the cool tile of the kitchen.
his face took on one of frustration, sadness and he almost looked pained. he didn’t pity her, didn’t say sorry. he just pressed his lips together into a line, “your they’re daughter.” he says in a cold tone.
it’s one she had never heard before but it had an affect, the shiver up her spine beneath her clothes. the goosebumps on her arms and the pulsing of her clit. it was having an affect.
she closes her eyes for a beat, blowing out some air and just said, “i know.” and she accepted it. she had accepted it for a while now, that maybe some things were just never going to change.
and she was just going to be expected to live with it.
the revelation to leon had brought forth changes, changes that she didn’t ever know she needed. and she should’ve done it sooner, told someone on the outside that had no idea who she was what she desired, what she longed for.
freedom.
he was different now, he was more…attentive.
he would stick by her side until the very last second at shoots, music videos, anything that required her to be half naked. he was there, standing right beside her.
he would even encourage her, whisper things when her makeup crew or clothing people weren’t around. he was even rubbing his hand over her elbows, shoulders and a firm hand on her lower back to steer her.
people wrote it off as him just being a very good and protective bodyguard. but they both knew deep down that things had shifted between them.
it was almost friendship, almost, except for the longing deep in her gut. his touches were innocent but would make her body pulse and her skin heat. it was dangerous to be so close to him sometimes.
she couldn’t doubt that if someone were to take her virginity, she’d want it to be him. she’d imagine often how gentle he would be, yet domineering like he was in his role as her bodyguard.
she had no doubt in her mind that if the opportunity ever presented itself, she’d have to take it.
she’d let him, the thought didn’t petrify her anymore. he had not spoken to a soul about what she shared about her career, about her life and what she really and truly wanted. she knew she could trust him.
she’d just have to wait and deeply hope that he’d try something, anything that she could latch onto where he was concerned.
she was too fucking nervous to make the first move, she didn’t know what that would even be? kiss him? palm his erection? she’d had sexual encounters before but they never went below the belt.
but she knew that she had just as much impact on him as he did with her. she had seen that subtle shift in the next two weeks after she had confided in him in the kitchen.
his stare lingered on certain parts of her body for far too long to be considered friendly. she never caught his stare, she wanted him to look. and it felt good to be practically eye-fucked by him, it gave her a sense of confidence that she’d never had before.
it was freeing.
one day, she was feeling like a taut rubber band. like every gentle touch and feeling of him being in her vicinity was driving that feeling in between her legs in agony.
it physically pained her from how aroused she was, her nipples were hard in her bra and she felt like she was going to burst into flames if he delicately touched her elbow or any part of her skin again.
it was torture.
she felt like she needed at least to masturbate like a hundred times before the feeling ended. before she could ease that ache, she was just sitting in her bedroom, watching her flatscreen on the wall mounted in front of her.
she rubbed her thighs together, she was hoping to soothe the ache there. she bites her lip until it could almost bleed.
she wasn’t expecting leon to still be here, she was waiting for him to go home like he did everyday, waiting for him to leave her. she was almost desperately waiting just so she could stick her hand in between her legs and satisfy the ache there.
but no, he looked in the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. she kept her eyes locked on the tv, but she could feel his glacier like gaze on her. she kept her back leaned against the headboard, pressing her thighs together as she watched the tv show in front of her.
“i thought you went home already?” weak excuse and question on her part, she didn’t know if she wanted him to go so she could alienate the ache herself or if she wanted him to stick around to see where this might lead.
he chuckled lowly and shook his head, “nah, sorry pretty girl. i’m sticking around a little later. why so urgent for me to leave?” he says with a small raise of his brow in her direction.
pretty girl? fuck me. she thinks to herself as she sputters for an answer, her lips parting. “uhm, i just…i’m not urgent. you…you just usually are gone by now.” she says softly as she looks at him, meeting his gaze.
she presses her thighs together on instinct even though it did nothing to get rid of the dripping tension in her panties.
“oh? so it’d have nothing to do with you touching yourself now would it?” he says with a almost feline smile, she felt her eyes go wide and her body freeze. how the hell did he know about that?
“i-i…” she tries to speak, to ignore the way her cheeks were heating up in embarrassment or the way her lower stomach churned with arousal that he knew.
“i heard you last week after you thought i left.” he says lowly as he slowly saunters into her room a little more, rounding the bed until he was standing at the very end of the queen mattress, his gaze trained on her, his movements almost primal.
she would almost pinch herself, she had to be dreaming. this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real.
“i-“ she tried to speak again, to justify what he heard, to maybe get some kind of excuse or explanation out. he stopped her again, planting one of his hands on the surface of her mattress. “you moaned my name.” he says in a dark voice, his eyes practically eating her alive.
she felt naked under his gaze, felt her skin shiver and heat up within the same breath as she parted her lips a little.
“so tell me, pretty girl, what about me turns you on enough to where you feel the need…to stick your hands down into your pants and cum all over your fingers?” he says with a small predatory raise of his brow, he leans back and rounds to her side of the bed on her mattress.
she couldn’t think of just one thing to answer his question, she had so many things. so many things that she could say but the lust and arousal in her underwear was fogging her virgin brain. “everything.” she breathed out as she looked up at him as he stood above her on where she was sitting on her bed.
he licks his lips and his pupils dilate a little bit, “everything, huh?” he says with a smirk, sitting down on the bed by her. his hand resting on her knee, rubbing small circles on the skin there, causing goosebumps to crawl up her legs and make in between her legs pulse.
“yes.” she breathes softly, almost gasping for air. this sounds nothing like her, so desperate and wanting. this was the opportunity and she had to take it, she moved forward as she met him, her face so close to his as his hand went up from her knee up to her thigh, gently squeezing and rubbing.
“go ahead, baby.” he said in a low rasp as he saw her looking between his beautiful blue eyes and his pink lips. she licked her own lips and nodded slowly, almost in a trance. he was giving her permission, he was letting her kiss him.
she moved her head forward and pressed her lips to his, softly moving her lips against his as his grip on her thigh got tighter. the kiss started to heat up, his tongue started moving against hers and she grasped at his shirt, her small hands grasping the fabric like a tether as they continued to sloppily make out.
she couldn’t find it in herself to care as the tv show went on and played softly in the background as she kept kissing him. she was desperate and trying to subtly get him closer to her, trying to pull herself on-top of him.
he caught onto that, letting her move onto him, straddling his lap as she felt his bulge rub up against the hem of her shorts. she came up for air but kept kissing him, his hands holding onto her hips in a gentle but firm grip. she wasn’t going to be moving anymore or going anywhere.
finally, he pulled away and rasped near her ear, “tell me what you want? hmm, pretty girl? what can i give you?” he whispers against the skin of her ear in a soft rasp.
she shivers and lets out a small whine, “i want…want…” she breathes and she’s desperate, she moves her hips down against his erection, trying to get him close to her.
“you want my cock pretty girl?” he says softly in her ear, rubbing the soft skin in between her shirt and shorts, down to her ass, cupping both cheeks in his hands and squeezing. the words going into her ear and drifting around like music to her ears.
she mewls, his hands on her ass making her press down on his hardened erection more. she nodded slowly and licked her lips, he pulled his head away a little to fully look at her face. her lips were puffy and swollen from their kissing, her eyes hazy and diluted with lust.
“where do you want it?” he rasps softly as he moves on of his hands from her ass to cup her chin, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip. “you want it in your mouth?” he says with a soft smirk, completely 180 from before.
he then doesn’t give her a chance to respond or react before he moves his hand down to her shorts, cupping in between her legs. “or in that pretty pussy you have?” he says. she whines and tries to move against his hand, he tuts her and moves his hand away. “choose baby, i’m being patient.” he whispers in a low rumble.
“both.” she mumbles in a small heave of breath, her chest rising and falling beneath her shirt fast. his eyes dilate more if it’s even possible, she can barely see the blue in his eyes anymore.
he licks his lips, she could feel his dick twitch in his pants beneath her, she held back a whine and swallowed. “mmm, both? i think that can be arranged, princess.” he says softly as he looks at her with a soft grin.
she feels her panties get wetter if it was even possible at this point. he seems to toss the idea around in his brain for a second, one hand still squeezing her ass and the other rubbing over her stomach over her shirt.
“get naked, baby. then get on your knees.” he says in a soft demand. she shakily climbs off of him, his hands falling away as her feet hit the ground of her bedroom in front of him. she keeps eye contact with him as she moves her hands to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head.
her skin kissing the cool air of the room, her nipples hardening further beneath the material of her bra. he keeps his eyes on her the whole time, practically devouring her with just a simple gaze.
that was incentive enough to continue doing what he said, the promise of what she was going to do after she got naked made her tremble in arousal a little.
she slipped off her cotton shorts next, letting them pathetically fall to the floor by her feet and her discarded shirt. and now was the time when he would see everything, he wouldn’t see the version that he’d seen before.
he’d see all of her in her purest form, so raw and real that it almost made her legs shake where she stood. he nodded once at her, silently telling her to continue.
she licked her lips and reached behind her, unclasping her bra like she’d done this a million times before. she lets the material fall to the floor again with the rest of her discarded clothes. she could’ve sworn she heard him groan when he saw her breasts.
she didn’t give him much time to recover as she stripped her underwear down her legs and was completely barren and standing before him.
he muttered a ‘fuck’ beneath his breath and grabbed a pillow from her bed, sitting it on the ground in front of his legs. she’d given blow jobs before, but nothing like this.
nothing like leon looking at her like she was the only thing that seemed to matter in this moment. this went beyond protection, beyond his job description and beyond anything they both could comprehend.
she got down on her knees in front of him, her knees kissing the pillow as she felt him reach down and cup her chin, bringing her gaze up towards him.
“your in good hands now, pretty girl. i’ll give you what you want. and i don’t expect anything in return, okay?” he says with his unwavering gaze locked on hers. she nods in his grip, his thumb going back to her bottom lip and pushing his thumb in between her lips and teeth.
she understands, her arousal pooling messily in between her thighs as she kneels on the pillow before him. she sucks generously on the pad of his thumb, taking the whole thing into her mouth, swirling her tongue on it a little.
“fuck, baby. so messy.” he whispers in a low rasp as he watches in amazement as you suck and lick at his thumb like it was his cock. he pulls it out of your mouth with a small pop, smearing your saliva all over your lips. “so pretty, princess. i promised you my cock.” he muses lowly.
she can’t think or say anything, fearing the only thing at this point to come out of her mouth would be whines and whimpers. he undoes his belt on his slacks, lifting his hips to pull both the boxers and the slacks down to where his cock springs free against his stomach.
fuck, even his cock was beautiful. she licked her lips on instinct and saw the little bead of precum at the tip, swallowing her nerves she moved her head over it. pressing a kiss to the tip which made him emit a small noise bordering on a groan and a moan, she kept pressing kisses to the tip before licking at the vein that ran from the base to the head. 
“oh, pretty girl…such a tease.” he drawls in a low panting breath above her. she feels her practically leak down her legs at this point, his words making her clench around nothing.
she licks at the tip before hollowing her cheeks and sucking him into her mouth, her head bobbing slowly. she felt his hands go into her hair and hold her head gently almost guiding her as she kept her mouth and head moving on his cock.
“fuck, just like…fuck…that.” he moans as he looks down at her, her head moving as steadily as she can, raising her hand to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. sucking on him like a lollipop, he lightly fists her hair, his nails lightly scratching her scalp.
she moans around his cock, her jaw aching but finding the pain worth it as she keeps trying to pleasure him. she looks up at him, making eye contact as she flutters her lashes, removing her hand and taking all of him into her mouth as she gags softly, ignoring the pain in her jaw and throat.
“oh god…such a dirty girl, you like having my cock in your mouth, baby?” he groans as she fists her hair a little tighter, she nods around his cock, moaning softly against it. he hisses at the feeling.
“so fucking close, princess. gonna cum in that pretty mouth and then…gonna cum in that pretty pussy.” he growls as she keeps up her pace with her head, basically deep throating him as the head of his cock meets the back of her throat.
she could come at just his words alone at this point, her pussy aching painfully and dripping down the inside of her thighs. she is determined at this point to let him finish inside of her mouth, she finds herself actually wanting his cum to slide down her throat.
with just a few more bobs of her head, he’s cumming into her mouth with a loud moan, gripping at her hair. seeing him come apart by just her mouth was enough to make her nerves disappear, he was so wrecked from just her mouth alone and it made her pussy tingle.
she eagerly swallowed his cum, swallowing all of it and pulling away from his cock with a small pop. he reached down with his thumb and wiped some of the saliva and his cum off of her lip and pushed it in her mouth. “mmm, good girl, baby.” he praises.
he gave her a second to gather herself before lifting her softly off of the pillow on the ground and laying her down on the bed. she hits her mattress and her comforter with a soft thud and bounces a little as he stands where she was just kneeling, kicking the pillow to the side by his feet.
he starts unbuttoning his shirt, getting fully undressed and kicking his shoes and socks off. his clothes joining her discarded ones on the floor. he then lets his blue eyes rake over her, looking from how hard her nipples are to the way your pussy is practically leaking onto the sheets below you.
he just can’t help himself, not when your involved. “baby, i’m gonna ask you something and please be honest with me.” he says in a soft but firm voice as he kneels in between her thighs, brushing some of her hair out of her face.
she just nods as she licks her puffy lips, letting him ask his question and giving him the go ahead that it was okay to ask.
“has anyone fucked you? ever?” he says with a small look over her eyes and the way her cheeks heated up to a perfect pink again. she shakes her head, “no, i’m a virgin. i’ve…i’ve done things but ive never…” she trails off and hopes that answer is good enough to satisfy him.
he groans and shakes his head, “jesus, princess.” he says with a low rasp as he leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek. “i’ll have to take extra care of you then, huh?” he says with a small smile against her lips, pressing a delicate kiss there.
she nods slowly, “i’ve trusted you enough to let you.” she whispers as she looks into his blue eyes, they were connected and yet they weren’t. the way his body came over hers and just protected her from the onslaught of nerves that bubbled beneath the surface.
his blue eyes soften and he nods slowly, the hand that’s not propping himself up by her head moves to cradle her cheek in a loving manner. “i know, baby. i’m gonna take such good care of you. make sure it’s nice for you.” he says with a ghost of a smile on his divine features.
she nods slowly, keeping eye contact as he reaches in between their naked bodies, grabbing his cock and rubbing it in between her slick and wet folds. she gasps softly when it catches her clit. “if it hurts,” he uses his other hand, balancing back on his knees above her on the bed.
he grabs her hand by her side, using the hand that he’s not stroking himself with to intertwine his fingers with hers. he lifts it by her head and leans forward again, his forehead resting against hers, “you squeeze three times on my hand. okay? and i’ll stop.” he says softly as he just lets his eyes flutter open and shut.
she nods in understanding, he continues to run his cock through her wet folds and coating his cock in her arousal. he presses a soft kiss to her lips and slowly notches the tip of his cock against her entrance.
she bites her lip in anticipation, waiting for the stretch and waiting for the pain that her friends had talked about for their first times. “relax. don’t tense up or it’ll hurt more.” he says softly as if he can read her mind.
she sighs softly against his lips and deeply inhales and exhales, attempting to relax her body and the hot rush of her blood beneath the skin.
he finally sticks the tip into her entrance, the stretch isn’t there yet, she can feel it. she can feel the burning fire in her belly. she doesn’t squeeze his hand that’s intertwined with hers on the bed, she just holds it and waits for him to slide in an inch, then another inch, and the burning is there.
it’s a stretch, it doesn’t hurt…not yet.
he keeps sliding in slowly but surely to make sure she’s okay, make sure she can take him. she takes slow breaths, letting his own mingle with hers in the small space between their lips. she feels him push more until he’s bottomed out within her.
if it wasn’t for his heavy breathing or the little aching stretch in her hymen, she wouldn’t have even known he was inside of her fully. “jesus…god…” he mumbles soft curses as he hovers his lips over hers.
“your pussy is gonna be the death of me. i swear to god.” he mumbles in a low groan as he just stayed still inside of her, the words making her clench instantly around him, he hisses and squeezes her hand, “don’t do that, or i’ll cum.” he grips.
she swallows and tries to ignore how he’s letting her grow accustomed to him inside of her, letting his dick stretch her out and make room for him. after a few minutes and just the sounds of their heavy breathing between them, she nods slowly.
“you can move. i’ll squeeze your hand if…if it hurts.” she manages to get out through a shallowed breath, he nods slowly. taking that as a sign to move his hips that are pressed against hers.
and god, help her. she was going to cum within minutes. the second he moved his hips, pulling out almost all the way and plunging back in, a steady pace that burned only slightly. the burn turned into pleasure as he kept moving his hips at a steady place, her moans soft and echoing through her bedroom.
she needed more, soon enough the heat within her became an insatiable desire. she needed it, craved it and she couldn’t believe she had denied herself of something so amazing for so long.
“deeper…more…” she moaned out as her eyes flutter shut and she gripped his intertwined hand beside her head. he almost growled against her lips, but not denying her, not for one second.
he lifts her legs, putting them around his hips and he grabs a pillow off of her bed, slipping it under her hips and then resuming his movements, only this time it was deeper and harder and he was hitting the spot her own fingers could never reach.
“leon!” she whined as she tilted her head back, he growled into her neck, pressing a kiss on her jaw as he groaned and slapped his hips repeatedly against hers. she’d be so sore tomorrow but it’d be so worth it.
“good…doing so good for me princess.” he says lowly in a whisper against her ear, goosebumps that shattered and battled with the climax rising in her belly. it had never felt like this before, felt so overwhelming and consuming.
she was so full of him, so drunk on his cock and the way it was hitting her g-spot every single time. god, she would build an alter for him after this or give him a raise. he deserved it.
the praise melted her brain and her pussy as she kept her eyes fluttering open and shut, her back arching into his. her hard nipples brushing against his chest as he pumped into her ruthlessly.
“fuck, so fucking…” he groaned into her ear and snapped his hips as if it would kill him if he didn’t make her cum, like it was his life’s mission. she whined, “cum…gonna cum…yes…” she cried loudly as he paused his movements and moved back, letting go of her hand and putting her thighs back until they were flush against her abdomen.
he hooked her ankles over his shoulders, putting her in a mating press and nailing her against the mattress. she almost screamed in pleasure, her skin was hot and she felt like she could burst into flames.
this angle…it was so delicious and she felt her climax get closer and closer…until…
“yes…” she moaned out loudly in a whine, her pussy clamping around his cock and cumming with a shudder, small pitiful noises that sounded nothing like her. he groaned and licked around her jaw and nipped, fucking her through her orgasm to chase his own.
“where do you want me to come baby?” he mumbles into her ear, a low drawl that made her pussy clench more. “inside…” she needed him too, she needed to feel it, just once. just one time.
he nipped at her jaw near her ear, “dirty little princess.” he drawls and she clenched the sheets between her hands beneath her. she whined, he just kept pumping into her, her trembling and shaking body was trying to hold onto the feeling.
“shh, im almost there sweet girl.” he says softly in a rasp as he pumps more and more until finally, he comes inside of her, his body slackening a little bit as if the last bit of his energy has been drained from him.
she can feel the warmth of his cum invading her womb and her pussy, it feels like heaven and she don’t know how she could not want to feel that. she saw him move back, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then her forehead and then her panting and flushed lips. his blue eyes drew back and he brushed some hair out of her face, gentle and tender she leaned into it.
“your all sweaty.” he says with a soft voice as his blue eyes rake over her face and her neck, to her bare collarbones. “here, hold on baby.” he says gently as he leans up onto his knees, carefully pulling his cock out of her entrance with a small pop.
“fuck me…” he mumbled as he looks down at his cum leaking out of her, their combined fluids leaking onto the crevice of her ass. he gently moved the pillow back from under her hips, causing her to mumble a groan.
“shhh, i got you, princess.” he says softly as he moves her legs back down to be comfortable and not pressed against her abdomen anymore. she smiles softly, her body melting into her sheets and comforter.
he gets up and grabs his boxers from the floor, pulling them over his stuff and depleting erection. he walks towards what she assumed was her bathroom attached to her bedroom. he grabbed a washcloth on the side of her sink, wetting it and coming back in.
he just sees her on the bed, her skin flushed and her naked contours against the sheets. she looks so heavenly with that blissed out expression on her face. he smiles and rounds the bed, crawling and bending her legs for her. he wipes the mess they made in between her legs. rubbing over her clit, causing her to hiss an attempt at smacking his hand.
“don’t. i’m just helping clean you up.” he says softly with some small reprimand. she sighs and blinks tiredly, “am i supposed to be so tired?” she asks in a grumble.
he chuckles and nods, “it’s normal.” he says with a small smile in her direction. he grabs the cloth in his hands, grabbing there discarded clothes off the floor, throwing them in her dirty clothes hamper, along with the cloth.
he then goes over to her dresser, pulling it open and one after another until he finds her pj drawer. he grabs her some underwear in the process, walking back over to the bed.
“sit up, baby.” he says gently as he taps her calf, she slowly follows his demand and sits up groggily. she’s pouty now and cute when she’s like this, he finds.
he slips the underwear onto her legs, letting her lift herself into it and putting them on her hips. he dresses her, putting a nightgown over her body. “come on,” he gestures towards the pillows at the head of the bed. she lazily sighs and moves her body until her head is resting on her pillows. he crawls in beside her ontop of the covers, pulling her so she’s half draped over him.
her lazy eyes closing and opening against his bare chest, “are you sore?” he whispers against her head. she shakes her head against his bare chest, “no, just tired.” she mumbles.
he nods and presses a kiss to the top of her head, rubbing a hand up and down her bare arm of the nightgown. “was i good?” she asks after a beat of silence, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.
“you were beyond good, sweet girl. you were spectacular.” he whispers sweetly in a comforting timbre, his lips hovering over her head. she smiles and nuzzles her head more into his chest, speaking again. “i’m so glad i chose you.” she says before her eyes drift closed against his chest.
something bloomed in his heart, something that he had ignored so many times before in the month and a half he had been working for her.
it was love? wasn’t it? it wasn’t lust. it was something deeper and rawer and it went beyond his comprehension. but as he held her in his arms, he thought one thing: he was happy she had chosen him too.
an: y’all know the drill, reblog and like. my masterlist and my taglist are linked above at the beginning. pls follow for more, i love you all and i hope this oneshot made up for me taking so long to finally post something. i’m working slowly to get all my oneshots and requests out. i promise. just bear with me <33 i love you all so much, hope you guys enjoyed it all. sorry it’s so long (im not), love u all sm, kisses xx.
taglist: @heartsforvin @elihii @argreion @sqiim (let me know in my dms if u wanna join and it’s linked above as well)
#leon kennedy#leon x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy au#re4 remake#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fic#leon kennedy imagine#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy x reader#re4 leon#leon kennedy x fem reader#re4 leon x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#resident evil smut
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