#good thing i have extra fabric but man

[gucci-depressione]

Making a plushie rn and I drew half the pattern before realsing it's on the wrong side of the fabric. And i used a white gel pen so it's not coming off.

why must God forsaken me this way

Thank fuck I have more fabric but still this is so sad alexa play despacito

[wonryllis]

watermelon sugar (m) | sim jaeyun.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁?

preview. he’s the sweetest to you, one might confuse him for your boyfriend, but he’s not, he just your fuckboy of a roommate who treats you like a delicate candy, always looking out for you and never at you; or so you think.

or where, jake can't seem to get you off his mind no matter how hard he tries.

meet the cast. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader

genre. and they were roommates trope, fuckboy soft for his girl trope, SMUT MDNI!!!, lots of toothrooting fluff, tiny speck of angst but not proper angst, drunk confessions?, only one who can control him/her trope, happy happy ending, crack/humor, domestic scenes(newly added) college fuckboy athelete roommate!jake with his candy!roommate girl. computer science & programming major!reader, exercise physiology major!jake, nonidol!au, soccer player!jake.

word count. 13,488 unedited! it's word vomit.

warnings. fingering, dry humping, dirty talkkk lots and lots of it, nasty freak jake with innocent(seems to be) girlie, experienced x inexperienced(virgin but has idea), pussy slapping, somewhat drunk sex but there's consent consent, oral (m rec.) different scenes, p in v (unprotected! but pls pls pls do not do this ever use protection!!!!!) multiple orgasms (f.rec), overstimuation(f.rec) and somewhat (m.rec), spitting? slight nipple play, jake is rough and filthy, with heavyyyyy corruption kink it's all throughout the story, strength kink, size difference “i worship the ground you walk on” energy but still dominant jake, jake has soooo many dirty inner thoughts about you it's innumerable. he's a simp for you so you're a slut for him— i guess that's them?

theme song. animals by maroon 5 (jake pov), into you by ariana grande (yn pov)

﹙★﹚ ࣪DRABBLES (find them here)

` author notes. im sorry for making you guys wait three extra weeks I hope y'all still want to read this,, what do i say it was so horrible before the revamp, thankfully it's so much better now and the smut god, it was so hard to write it i hope it's good enough. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!!

“i don’t mind this feeling.���

YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT, WHATEVER IS HAPPENING BETWEEN YOU BOTH, BUT YOU LIKE IT. IT FEELS SILLY AND FRAGILE AND GOOD. perhaps a little too good.

god forbid what you had done in your past life to get a roommate like jake, a complete package; a concoction of all classic kinds of roommate one could possibly expect. you aren’t complaining though he takes care of you in every way he possibly could. making you feel like his entire world revolves around you, from his time home to the hours he spends on the field. one would ask anything of him and his answer would surely include you in one way or another, everyone knew it, everyone could see it, the way he feels.

he makes you breakfast, he helps with the cleaning- you both actually have it planned to have a cleaning day every week to polish the apartment. he cooks for you and he does the dishes more often than not, the only exception being the time when you insist deathly on doing it yourself because come on you gotta do at least some thing around the house.

to add to the perfect mixture of god gifted man, he video games in his room with the door shut so that the sound of him shouting at the screen doesn’t disturb you. does the laundry- even your bras and underwear, he’s just too used to those clothings to give a care to get embarrassed (outwardly). he would never admit the way they get him all hot and bothered when he thinks of all the places those fabrics have touched. how wild his imagination runs and all the things he wishes he could do to you. all the sounds he could get, out of you and all the things you'd taste of.

you are his candy (well not exactly ‘his’ but according to him this nickname of yours is only and I repeat only reserved for him) literally because you are all over sweets all the damn time and figureratively because he’d die to have a taste of you; the forbidden fruit of his life, too innocent for a person like him to ruin. but lord would he give up everything to land a chance to lay his hands on you not so innocently.

this man does not give a fuck about who is not you, and maybe occasionally spare a care for his two best friends who so far have only been blessed enough to know your name because jake has made it clear that you're off-limits and if they ever dare to do anything given the opportunity he'd rip off their balls and feed it to ducks (he's serious he swears)

getting to the real point of your dynamic: the only drawback— jake sim is a renowned fuckboy on campus, the heartbreak prince and you, his miss americana as they all like to call it. it is a daily routine, having to find a new girl in the house and ofttimes hearing them even with your door closed and your hands pressed on your ears. at first it felt disgusting, then you got used to it, and now very recently you’ve been feeling weirdly dejected. a certain kind of hatred towards the girls, something you can’t pin point exactly to why and what it is.

“candy, my laptop broke down again!” jake's raspy voice dances through the little cracks of the bathroom door as you prepare for a quick shower. you sigh, tightening the towel wrapped around you before stepping out. a short knock at his batman poster door left ajar, and he's whipping his head to have a look at you as if he knew you'd be in the middle of washing up. a little secret, yes he knew because everytime ahead of bathtime you make sure to have a sip of your watermelon slush stack from the fridge and the sound of it's door reaches his room just right to let him know.

he remains seated on his bed, a sheepish smile on his face. your eyes fall at his desk to see his laptop closed, he tricked you, and like always you fell for it,“maybe if you used your school laptop to study instead of playing games on it, this wouldn't happen all the time. but i assume you probably did it to get me here, it’s not gonna work everytime yun,” you click your tongue in feigned annoyance making him grin wider,“well it does work everytime though,” he knows how to have you on his tail just like you know how to have him wrapped around your finger. it only seems fair, you both know what gets the other going and you use it to your advantage.

“what is it?” asking in a sing song tone, you plop down on his desk chair. spinning in rounds with your legs out swinging, hands gripping onto the arms of the chair while looking up at the phosphorescent glow-in-the-dark stickers you had forcefully put up on the ceiling of his room. a funny memory of jake trying to stop you because it would defeat the whole image of his room only to fold when you gave him the puppy doe eyes, baby talking that you really wanted to do it. it doesn't take much to have jake cave in, just one look from you and the boy is a flatline. fuckboy? he is that to everyone but to you he's practically whatever you want him to be, though you have never really had a talk about it.

“actually eunsang, she-” there is a hesitation is his tone you are well aware of, having almost a clear idea of what he's about to say,“i told- no warned you not to get involved with her for a second time, didn’t i?” you scold, feeling that little twinge of hurt knowing he probably will keep on being involved with girls like this no matter what you say. it's the one thing where you don't have him under your spell. or that's you think, i mean you you have no idea do you of how much he wants you. just like how you have no idea how much you want him.

“yes but it happened and now she’s after me all the time, she even showed up to my soccer practice yesterday! please just this one time, please help me get rid of her,” clamping together his hands in a plea, jake pouts as best as he can, giving you his puppy eyes. but when you don’t show a reaction of any sort he resorts to the next best guaranteed thing: bribery,“i’ll buy you tons of watermelon lollipops! from your favorite brand that too!” eyes sparkling with hope and expections of having you fall for it, like you do every single time, he waits. albeit patterns break, in everything and everyone.

“no, i’m on a diet. i gave up on sweets, what if i get diabetes? will you,” you point at him dramatically,“take responsibility?” to which his stance morphs into one of stunned. he would gladly take responsibility for you at any given chance, but it's one of more gravity and significance than diabetes. and he's sure he's not one you should be in care of as more than anything that you are right now. he's too corrupted and you are too naive.

“yes of course i’ll help you take your meds and-” he mumbles in a quick, hurried note aware that you’ll not let him answer if he’s not fast enough. you still beat him to it though, speaking loud over and above his voice, to drown out his words despite hearing them quite clearly,“will you? NO you will not! so let me just shower peacefully before i get the urge to lock you in the bathroom when you’re in there later,” with a silence after, one that has jake grinning again at your cuteness, you take it as a que to rush out swiftly. trying to make it to the bathroom before he decides to use his strength against you and hold you down wherever he wants. which though hasn't been often, has always left you breathless and flustered to a point you refuse to admit.

training to become an athlete, a buff center forward in comparison to you who barely puts effort into doing even a little bit of yoga once a month. it’s obvious he’ll have you give in if he wants but he’s too sweet to force you. and of course it's obvious, the tension of the strength kink that looms over in the room.

it comes as a shock to you when the next day, the first thing you see waking up in the morning and walking into the living room: is eunsang standing by the kitchen counter. and important point: clad in one of jake’s dress shirts that you recognize from doing his laundry occasionally, pouring herself a glass of water. oh you had to see this coming, this is jake we're talking about will be really ever like ever not bring over girls? no matter if they're clingy or not. the answer is ambiguous and definitely not to your favor.

she’s shares a small smile upon noticing you, a friendly smile which you know is obviously fake. she’s doing it just to look good and polite in jake’s eyes. just to show that she's not bothered by you, because as said everyone knows if they don't like you then they automatically are on jake sim's blacklist. and being the star player of the team, his acquaintance is more or less influential to a large extent, so note to be taken be nice to candy to not be on the cross out list.

however as sad as it is to say it’s of no use. she’s not even there in his eyes to begin with. the moment the jake comes out of his room, his field of vision doesn’t include her. passing by her very visible figure like she’s a microscopic bug to ruffle your hair in a dotting manner, his morning voice coming out in an adoring essence,“good morning, candy,” he smiles and scrunches up his nose when he notices the baby cat you both adopted last month, curled up in the corner of the couch,“and mei,” he acknowledges your pet kitty but not the girl he brought home, that should speak volumes to you, jake thinks. treating you like candy of his world you are, shouldn't that be the ultimate giveaway of his feelings? like even his hookups can see how down bad he is for you why is it that you're the only one who can't? he wants you to know but at the same time he feels he's not right for you, a dilemma he handles by fucking up over and over again.

wishing him morning in response you give him a look which silently delivers your question of what is going on. you did hear them last night (more like her), but you didn’t know it was her her. you weren’t even expecting her to be the one. after the conversation with jake yesterday, she was the last person you would have ever assumed. he sends you a flying look that he’ll explain everything later, shushing you off before you speak out loud.

“yunie,” your ears perk up at her voice, eyes narrowing in a deadly stare at the nickname you exclusively call him with, leaving her crusty mouth. certainly, like jake you blossom a definite possession over names too. perhaps it's the effect of living with him 24/7 but you seem to have picked up a lot of his antics.

jake’s eyes shift to look at you for a moment and then he’s running a hand through his hair, dropping his sweet conduct to get back into his usual cold fuckboy self. he absolutely does not like the way your brows turn down and the pretty smile you were previously adorning for him falling off your pretty lips. he can tolerate anything but seeing you bothered in any way. “you’re still here? it's better if you leave soon, candy doesn’t like all this,” walking around her to the other side of the counter and into the kitchen to open the upper cabinets, jake ignores her like a plague as if he wasn't showing her heaven last night. but alas, nothing comes above you, she should have known that.

“what do you want for breakfast candy? should i make you some toast? or do you want your usual dose of sugar?” his palms rest on the granite countertop, leaning against it slightly while turning to fix his gaze on you. it makes eunsang rage with anger, throwing you a demeaning look before she disappears into jake's room.

the moment his bedroom door closes, you feel the unfamiliar weight on your shoulders relax a tad bit,“my watermelon slush please,” finding your cozy spot on the kitchen counter, you give him your most adorable pout feeling like you had to gain back his warmth after the hookup. your legs dangle over the height between, toes softly brushing against jake's calves every two seconds. watching him prepare your drink, you decide to voice out the thing that had been disturbing since the moment you walked out your room,”did you like make a friends with benefit kind of arrangement or something?” it comes out in a low whisper, afraid if you said it too loud it'd come true. the thought of it disturbs you for some reason, it’s not new for you to see random girls in your apartment; or to hear them while they’re at it. yet it still gives you a sort of uneasy feeling, something you do not like feeling.

“it was a last time kind of deal actually,” he stops briefly to give you a quilty smile. finishing your sweet slushy just as eunsang hastily steps out, wearing what you assume her clothes from the previous night. she slows down to observe as jake hands you the cup, repulsively watching you take a sip,“is it good?” hearing him speak in a tone way different than the one she’s acquainted with him using with her has stomp her way out in a grumpy fit.

looking up from the edge of your cup with hopes to give her a sly stare, your eyes follow her figure, flinching silently when she bangs the door close harshly,“bitch,” you comment, hooded orbs shifting back to jake who scowls in disapproval,”language candy,” he reminds, knowing very well it does nothing to stop you.

“sorry yunie but she's so agressive, and for what?” you whine.

“from what i’ve seen, you’re way more aggressive,” jake laughs softly, index finger coming to poke at your cheek tenderly.

with full cheeks, you grin like a cheshire cat and jake feels his heart rate speeding up, who gave you the permission to be the cutest person he's ever known? the urge to kiss you just keeps growing with each passing day and with with each little sneaky smile and doe eyes you give him.

“we need to get the groceries this week, i have after classes soccer practice for the next four days and we're not gonna last that long,” the thought of spending the next four evenings alone in the unit is gloomier than the half assed ham and cheese toast jake makes for himself. if only you said yes to some proper breakfast, his taste buds and stomach wouldn't be suffering so much.

you nod as if he has eyes on his back, knowing well he's gonna want you with him but not force you, if you'd say no. whatever you want, is whatever he does.

“‘m gonna go take a shower first then,” hopping down, you place your empty mug in the sink, and skip to your room to take your bath supplies.

“let’s shower together,” jake's friskiness thrives in the way he shouts with an undertone of mischief. watching you with a teasing gaze as you step out the threshold of your bedroom door. a tiny smirk spreading onto his lips when you scrunch your nose in a grimace. cute, he mouths thinking you wouldn't notice but god you do. he's clearly joking but you can’t help feeling flustered internally. keeping up with his flirty and touchy stunts and tricks should have made it easier for you by now, but over a year in and you're yet to find yourself getting used to it. he’s too attractive and hot to get used to; at least that’s what excuse your brain gives you, which honestly is true to some extent. his looks score a lot of points and you can't deny that.

“and if we get locked in there, who’s gonna get us out? you know the door lock has problems,” you complain in a soft groan which, in his eyes is more adorable with the little annoyance you show. if you think you could ever intimidate him, you probably will because he'll melt right away to even think of a counter back.

his stance straightens at that, a fleeting look of flabbergast clouding his face before he’s breaking out in a taunt of smile, eyes closing in on you in a brazen look,“so does that mean if the lock was fine you’d actually shower together with me,” he feels this triumph of emotions, a sudden rush of sugar at the realization that'd probably maybe perhaps someday let him get in the shower together with you. the sheer excitement he experiences through his veins is over the roof, just the possibility of something so intimate with you is a bite of golden spoon for him.

he purposely stops all he’s doing to stare at you, moving his eyebrows cheekily, trying to provoke you,“i never said that,” you stick your tongue out at him, closing the door in a soft slam and crying out a ‘you’re sick in the head!’

“only for you!” jake yells back, chuckling to himself as he leaves the room.

two hours later you’re both strolling through the isles of shelving, bright florescent lighting, end displays of popular products, sale signs, banners with store mottoes, isle signs with product locations, rows and rows of household products and everything you'd always spend lots of time looking through until jake has to drag you back home.

he pushes the cart while you look around for items to throw in and cross out one by one from your checklist. the way you both discuss and bicker over what to keep in the cart and what not to every two minutes will lead any sane person to conclude you as a couple. you both would also admit it feels as such. how he insists on taking what you like while you argue that you’re on a diet and need to cut down on the consumption and desires of your sweet tooth. it feels sweet, he feels sweet. and you make him want to coddle you so bad, like what do you mean you're on a diet? you're perfect already. too perfect for him.

“i’m taking the pop tarts!” you hear him shout from two or probably three Isles away while you look through some new make up launches,”…okay fine!” capturing the attention of an old couple who glance at your way and mutter something you don’t quite catch but you assume it’s probably about how annoying you both are, shouting at the mart.

“yunie look these are so pretty,” you point at the line of lipgloss as jake comes over with cart. he hums in agreement, watching you scan through the shades in an animated mood, mumbling over the names and speaking of how it'd look good for an everyday look or with summer dress you recently got. oh how smitten he feels, observing the way you seem so pumped up simply over gloss.

“there's no mirror— “

“try it on me,” oh he's bewitched under your spell.

jake stands still as you apply the mauve on him, staring at you through hooded eyes,”oh, this one’s really pretty on you!” you beam, looking up at him as if he could see it too.

“it'd look prettier on you,” he's hardly able to whisper out, gaze trained on the way you part your lips while you wipe it off his and apply another. if he didn't have a strong self control, by now he would have shoved his tongue down your throat in the dirtiest and messiest kiss you'd ever known. knocking your breath out, as well as his. he's already on the verge of losing it with every little touch you leave on his lips, wetting your own as a habit.

“which one should i take?” you ask something cutely, jake almost feels guilty for the thoughts swimming in his head.

“i’ll buy all of it for you, we can do something like a chapstick challenge you know. the one where you kiss and guess the flavor,” he teases loving the tiny exasperated glare you throw him. “yunn, be serious! which one?”

“these two?” he points to ones you commented were pretty feeling impatient at the conjured up image of you wearing the colors on with you tiny, sexy little sundresses you got hidden in your closet. please feel guilty man he thinks.

in the end jake (successfully) convinces you to continue your diet later over the summer break offering to help you with it. and grabs a bunch of packets of your favorite snacks, your favorite brand’s watermelon lollipops and not to forget the fruit itself. checking all out he insists on carrying everything himself, only handing you the little bag that held your lollies in case you'd want one on the way back.

the subway is more crowded than usual, scarcely any seat left. it takes you a whole minute to scan around for an empty one, immediately encouraging jake to take it. a silly game of rock paper scissors to decide who stands, insisting firmly that he sit when you end up winning. the grocery bags rest by his foot and you stand between his legs, holding onto the bar wobbling every now and then. it’s just one stop left when jake suddenly pulls you onto his lap, adjusting you comfortably on his thighs and placing his hands on your legs possessively. you turn to look at him, lashes brushing against his skin and lips parting in the slightest at the adrenaline you feel pumping into your fast beating heart. the muscles in his chest feel firm at the faint touch of your back against him, the thumping of his own heart similar to that of yours.

he leans closer to whisper in your ear,“that creep right there kept staring you up and down,” pointing with a discreet move of his eyes as he drills holes through his stern gaze fixed on the said guy. you on the other hand, grow hot with irritation, perhaps just as hot and bothered you are feeling jake pressed so close. an abrupt and sharp impulse of anger.

“i’ll show him the fuck he was staring at," you mutter out, teeth gritted, and hands almost forming into fists, expression as innocent as always. jake seems to catch on to what you’re about to do and before you can get up from lap, his hold on you gets tighter,"okay, i know you hate this candy, but i don’t want you getting hurt in any way, if he does anything i’ll make sure to set him right, for now i think he got it that he’s not gonna stare at you however he wants,” hand grabing yours in gentle caresses along the expanse of your arm. delicate and slow like a soothing rub. his touch just as enticing and stimulating it is, is also calming, knowing exactly how to pacify your hot headedness. jake finds that really hot about you, the way you look like you couldn't harm a bug but he's seen you throw kicks and punches (for the right reasons) ‘looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you’ he never knew that's his type. sometimes and really only some rare times he wonders if you're not as innocent as he thinks you are, getting rock hard at the thought of it, dick twitching multiple times imagining you saying and doing things that an angel like you shouldn't be.

for the rest of the ride he manages to lull you back to your sweet candy mode, making you laugh at his lame pick up lines, and occasionally tickling your sides. head falling back into his shoulder in cute giggles and hips rolling on him, damn only he knows how bad he's holding back. as shameless as he is he'd probably jump your bones right infront of everyone to see. thankfully you bring the decency in your relationship.

when your stop comes, he intertwines his fingers you as you walk out the compartment, just in case you decide to give the dude a slap before leaving.

“'m gonna flatten out all your abs today, you'll need to gym again,” jake chuckles, feeling you roll over his body like mei’s lint roller as he lays on your favorite fluffy kuromi rug typing away on his laptop an essay deadlined for tomorrow. the weight of your body on and off and the touch of your hot skin he feels funsies,“you do this all the time, candy and my abs have never left. how can i let them? knowing how much you love it,” reaching behind to hold you still on his back. you are glad he can't see the way your cheeks warm up at that, a bashful look on your face remembering all the times he's caught you ogling at his body.

“why are you sulking?” he asks when you don't respond with a whine like you usually do. aware that you behave this way either when you’re over the top bathing in happiness or dissatisfied with something.

“’m gonna gain weight now because of you, i’ll see all the snacks and sweets in the pantry and not be able to resist binge eating,” you lightly punch at the curve of his shoulders, dropping your head into the crook of his neck in a pout. jake turns around swiftly to hold you in a hug, wanting nothing more than to cheer you up,“i love your belly anyhow, whether it’s visible or not,” giving the plump flesh of your stomach a zephyr-like pinch. you wince playfully drawing back inches to tease him only to drop down into his arms to hug him back seconds later,“yeah whatever,” his words make you feel butterflies, a turmoil of frenzy and fuzzy feelings, cheeks growing warm once again, and the warmth spreading all over your mind this time. why does he have to be so sweet to you?

you both stay like that for a while breathing slowly, and taking in the comfort of a hug, the room saturated with a restful and serene silence. you’re the first to pull away,“you should finish that essay, i have to prepare for my test next week,” jake groans at the loss of your touch, wailing out with his hands as you leave the room.

”i’m joining you as soon as i finish this!”

four days later on the weekend, you sit on the couch alone, wrapped in the thin lilac charmeuse blanket jake got for you (he said it the softness of it, reminded him of you.) waiting for your him to join you. eight in the morning with ‘tangled’ running on the tv, it's not something jake would ever want to do, but he gives in because you like it; bonus sometimes when you get a little sleepy, he grabs the chance to cuddle you as close as he can, leaving a few fluttering kisses on your temple and cheeks. he's grateful you never say anything about it and just let him be.

“yunie, can you pass me the watermelon in the fridge? the one from yesterday,” you spare a quick glance towards jake as he walks out his room. his headset rests loosely around his neck, half naked, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and his black hair all dishevelled: looking even more messier due to the perm he got last week. “yeah sure,” the rasp in his voice as he mumbles out softly gives away the fact that he probably stayed up all night again.

taking the half a piece of watermelon out and grabbing a spoon, jake scoops out a small little portion. going up to your slouched figure on the couch, and extending it out for you to eat,“here you go, candy,” he does it quite often, infact he loves to feed you. seeing your cheeks full and your eyes sparkling makes him feel fond as much as it turns him on. picturing you the same way on your knees between his legs with his dick stuffed in your mouth. choking and gagging on him, tears dropping down your pretty eyes while you stare up at him with this same doe look. it'd be heaven. even more so if he would have to teach you how to do it right, further fueling the massive corruption kink he seems to have harboured after meeting you.

he passes you melon after you take the bite, sitting beside you with his legs crossed. eyes trained on the way you fill in more in your mouth than you can handle, face all round and full,”eat slowly,” he flicks at your forehead.

“do you want to go buy a new sofa at ikea tomorrow? this one’s pretty small,” he adds a minute later, raising his brows subtly.

“well, first of all i didn’t plan to have a roommate and secon- i swear if it’s for your hook-ups i’m kicking you out!” it comes out in a yell, voice raising with every syllable before you spit a seed at him. one that due to your bad aiming skills instead of landing on his face, falls and sticks to the skin of his chest. damn those muscles they get you feelings things you probably shouldn't be.

putting away the watermelon on your tea table, you pick up mei and settle her on your lap, pulling back your blanket which had slipped off in a crackle of laughter,“this is public space have some decency before you have such thoughts!”

“stop making me appear like a horndog!” he laughs along, whinning at your false accusations in giggles and a look of faux disbelief.

“well that is exactly what you are!” you throw the closest cushion at his face. grinning with your signature cutesy doe eyes and jake is a goner. he always is.

“no don't do this me,”

“change the sheets then, it's your turn this week,” turning away from him, you fix your eyes on rapunzel climbing down the tower. trying to avoid the way he stares at you with betrayal, immediately scooting over to tickle you.

“you cheeky liar it's your turn,” his hands glossing over your ticklish areas.

“i love you,” in a fit of uncontrolled giggles, you shout. pushing against him to escape only to have your wrists pulled away, held together in a tight grasp and pinned above your head. “candy! i love you is not gonna get you out of chores come on i'll help you. we'll watch tangled later. together, i promise,” his laughter dies down with every word he utters, whispering out the last part as he becomes aware of the proximity between you two. so close you both think, breaths slowing down and heartbeats picking up the pace with each passing second.

“we're doing this okay?” jake whispers again, albeit, his tone a tad bit more heavy and bothered. an ambiguous daze clouding over, as if he is talking about something entirely different than just changing sheets. a twinge of lust bubbling inside. having you under him like this makes him realize just how desperately he wants you, and how bad his strength kink blooms for you. to have you whimpering and moaning, gaze all hazy as you let him do whatever he wants with you. damn he feels his dick twitch at that, gulping nervously hoping you wouldn't notice.

“you look like eugene,” you mumble out suddenly and jake feels his thirst rise off the roof, because the size difference between the characters? he wouldn't deny he thought of you the first time he saw the animation. wanting you have you in his arms the same way.

“then you must be my rapunzel,” you feel even more flustered if that's possible, your stomach twisting and twirling at his words until,”now come on we gotta keep the house clean for mother gothel,” jake let's his grip on you loosen, taking a moment to get off you.

“yunie!”

“i'll make you some sweet soy-glazed potatoes too later,” he voice drowns out as he enters you bedroom first.

“well i guess it's okay then,” you giggle following after him.

“candy that's not how you tuck in the corners,” jake scolds you for nth time, running after you to fix the edges you mess up deliberately time and again. “hey! candy! get down!” you make it a chaos for him, jumping onto the unmade bed and messing up the sheets all the way.

“oops,” there's a devilish grin on your face as jake pauses to watch you have your sugar rush episode.

“if you wanna wrestle again and end up under me, just say so,” he teases, inching closer and grabbing you by the waist. you both laugh again as if you weren't dripping with need for each other just moments ago. he picks you up and walks to the door putting you down by the sill,”i seriously need to get this done, you go and peel the potatoes for me,” you can't cook for the sake of god and letting you use knives is like a deathwish, jake can only hope peeling will keep you busy and safe enough to not end up with cuts anywhere.

the doorbell rings just as you step into the kitchen, walking back to the front in a sluggish sigh. feeling utter regret for answering the door, the instant you notice the figure outside. not wanting to reveal the presence to jake, you shut the door behind.

he peeps out your room at the sound of it, shrugging it off as nothing because you’ve done it lot many times: when your friends show up because you simply don’t want them to fall under his radar as prey.

you spare an indifferent glance at the way eunsang stands tall; hands folded with a cocky look on her rather gorgeous face. she's a beauty and you hate to admit that, a vibe so opposite of you it makes you insecure considering jake's hooked up with her more than a few times. “i’m here to see jake,” she states, tilting her head to point over at the closed door, all the sugary honeyed act she keeps up around him nowhere to be seen.

“and he doesn’t want to see you, didn’t he tell you it was the last time,” you counterattack, folding your arms and straightening up to look intimidating. your stare is one of taunt, carrying a gaze of boredom in hopes to establish that you're one to reckon with.

“are you jake? i said i want to talk to jake not you,” her heels click in impatience and underlying disgust in the tone she uses with you gets on your nerves.

you close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the annoyance in you before it turns into anger, tongue poking at the side of your cheek, “and are you deaf? i said he does not want to talk to you,” assert dominance, assert dominance you repeat over and over in your head.

but what she says next makes you lose your temper.

jake, the very epicenter of it all, on the other hand has no idea of what's going on outside until there's a scream that sounds too much like you, one turning into many more. it's frantic and inhumane, the speed at which he runs out. dropping everything and anything. there in broad daylight he finds you and eunsang trying to rip each other's hair out in the thankfully empty hallway. he doesn't know if he should be worried more about your scalp hurting or your throat tearing from how loudly you scream over eunsang. his hands flail as he contemplates on breaking the fight or letting you calm down, which you probably won't as he knows. he grabs onto eunsang's hands on your head trying to loosen her grip on your hair, concerned over the pain you must be feeling while you're there now trying to kick her between her legs. she's shocked to say the least, watching him latch you off her in a swift motion and throw you over his shoulder. he takes you back inside quickly, groaning at your fists pounding against his back in a protest,”fucking let go of me! i’m gonna give her a good piece of my mind!”

“candy language!” putting you down by the kitchen softly, he grasps the side of your arms and forces you to look into his eyes,“stop fighting all the time, stay here i’ll talk to her, okay?” he speaks slowly as an attempt to calm you. when you wiggle off in a scornful shrug, he asks again, this time moving to cup your face, a tender look in his eyes,“okay?” you nod in a defeated sigh and he's out the door before you can say anything else. you're upset, really upset, you know what you did outside was not decent yet you can't get over the fact that he left you in here to go back to talk to her. he was on your tail last week trying to beg you to help him get rid of her and even shooed her out the unit harshly, what more is there to talk about?

truth to be told, this was how he first met you, or should he say saw you. it was the move in day, he had all the necessities for the week packed in a travel suitcase, with the other stuff to be brought in later on. he was waiting for the elevator in the lobby, more tense and anxious than ever to meet the girl he was going to be living with a good four years of his college life. hoping she'd not treat him like some stranger, or be someone impossible to get close to hash live with. along with little bits of curiosity and hopes again, that she'd be a pretty and sweet girl maybe someone help could form some kind of benefits with.

however never in a million years did he ever expect it to be the cute yet fierce girl in the elevator. to say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement, he was literally blown off his feet, scared or impressed, his confusion was massive. when the doors of the elevator had opened he had found you slapping a middle aged man,”fun? you think groping my butt ‘s fun, you sicko,” kicking him in the balls next. hard. jake had gulped at that, hard. heart on a pause. the look of feigned innocence on your face as you did all that. damn jake swears it was that moment he fell. maybe not romantically but you definitely got his dick hard.

you looked super cute, and you knew how to fight, jake thought he hit the jackpot when you turned out to be his roommate. pretty you were, definitely, and sweet wasn't even a question; you were sweet to him and you are a lot of sweet. the only thing that remains a mystery till now is if you'd taste as sweet. jake hopes he can find that out.

he returns a few minutes later, lips pursed in a small smile as he shuts the front door. it grows even wider when his eyes find you,“so your soy glazed potatoes,” he chuckles walking over to the kitchen and getting other things out.

“she called me a slut for living with a guy like you and i was in the midst of giving her a lecture on actually how good of a person you are-” you bang on the counter with a thud and turn around to face him,“and you dragged me in!” whinning in a pout that looked as upset as your furrowed brows.

jake glances over in amusement, halting to give you another grin as he boops your nose gently,“my darling candy, i’m only good to you,” the glare you throw his way only makes him snicker with adoration. the little flicker of bashfulness you feel making you break out in a smile which (thankfully, for you) jake doesn't notice.

“whatever, i’m gonna take a long shower. do not disturb me!” you leave in a rush afraid if you stay too long he'd see it all on your face.

ten minutes later, as you tiptoe to get your favorite shower gel from the shelf above the mirror, luck decides to remind you why you shouldn't ever stay away from jake sim. feet slipping on the wet floor, body colliding against the cold tiles in a thud loud enough to have jake come running.

“candy, you're okay? what happened? should i open the door? ‘m coming in,” his voice is laced with worry, snapping open the door to find you laying flat down, though to his relief not unconscious. he picks you carefully, bringing you to your room and seating you on the edge of the bed to check for any injuries. hands delicately caressing all over and asking if it hurts any where,”you're so clumsy, always getting me worried like shit,”

“language,” you giggle, trying to make him laugh and it works.

“sorry, just please be careful, okay?” his fingers brush back your hair as you give him a small nod,“do you feel pain anywhere?” another nod, and this one ticks his alarms.

“where!” your fingers reach out to press against the brooding crease between his brows, attempting to remove the frown from his face. and jake melts at that, feeling his heart flutter at your cuteness, god he loves this side of you so much.

“you little demon, look what happens if you don't shower with me,” laughing out together, oh how he wishes it were like this forever. and jake sim has never thought of a forever ever before.

a month passes by in the blink of an eye, your routines and relationship staying the same as always, classes, his soccer practice and your weekly cleaning day. but what seems to have changed is his routine of bringing over girls, the number alarmingly cutting down day by day (which currently sits at zero) and what you haven’t noticed- his display of affection towards you growing more and more. yet you think nothing special of it, assuming that perhaps now he got a grip over himself. which is partially true. jake thought of you as deserving someone better, so it was only right that he became better. and what better way than to start with quitting the position of campus’ resident fuckboy.

after an all nighter the previous day, coming back from your classes you get straight to bed. changing you clothes and getting tucked under the blanket from around eight in the evening. jake returns from his soccer practice later, unaware of the fact that you're already passed out. opening your door to let you know of his night out plans,“candy, i’m gonna go out with jay and sunghoon! make sure to have your dinne- oh you were sleeping? i didn’t know i’m so sorry candy,” he mumbles out in a soft whisper towards the end, supressing a smile watching your sleepy figure under the covers. trying to rub out the drowsiness from your eyes; heavy blinking and a small pout, his cute girl.

“it’s okay no need to get up, go back to sleep, i’ll be back in the morning,” approaching the bed as you lay back down, he pats your head in a 'sleep well’ before leaving.

it's probably past midnight when you wake up to constant ringing of calls. fumbling around for your phone in a daze only to find a dozen calls from an unknown number and a bunch of texts from the same. it's jay, asking you to get jake from the bar they're at. saying the guy's refusing to go back with anyone that's not you: whining for your presence and making it hard for his two friends.

'where is my candy?’ jay and sunghoon are sick and tired of hearing it all night.

by the time you get him back to the apartment, it's three and your bones hurt from the weight of his body leaning all over you. it doesn't help that all he does is giggle and throw himself over you. there's been a lot of times you have seen him drunk, probably more than a dozen, but he's never looked as wasted as today. sunghoon told you it's because he drank way more than usual, and unbeknownst to you that you are the sole reason, you wonder of the things that plague his mind to the extent of drinking so much.

dragging him into his room you have him sit on his bed, going through his closet and getting him a pair of sweatpants and the first shirt you can grab. “come on yunie, get changed,” you hand him the clothes, turning away when he takes everything off nonchalantly. even though he likely would rather want you to look, from the many times he's said it before ‘why’re you looking away, candy it's all for you,’ his exact words. the bane of your existence.

after he's changed, you wipe the sweat off his body with a wet towel as much as you can. giving him a glass of water before leaving for your room when he grabs your wrist and stops you with his puppy eyes.

in the morning, around noon jake is the first one to wake up and having no memory of the previous night besides the fact that he was drunk. he sits at his desk chair, hands in his hair, watching you sleep on the other side of his bed, clad in his shirt. it’s like he feels everything is over and done from here. he did what he swore never to do, this was the very first thing he pinned on his mind as an important note: not using you even if he has very obvious feelings for you. he tugs on his hair in frustration, angry at himself for not staying in his lane when drunk. with his head hung in guilt, he doesn't notice you stirring awake, sitting up at the sight of his hunched figure.

“yun? are you okay? is the hangover severe? should i make you something for it?” startled at your soft voice, he flinches visibly. a thousand scenarios running through his mind and not one ends up good.

“you don’t even know any hangover recipes,” jake mumbles almost inaudibly.

“i can just search on the internet and try my best, it’s not like i’ll give you anything inedible,” you teaee, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere you feel in the air.

it takes him a moment to speak again, sounding as miserable as he has never before,“candy i’m,” he halts, gulping to hold back the lump in his throat,“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to, i don’t why i, it's all my fault,” he stops again, leaving you confused and dumbfounded,“what are you saying? what apology?” it is when his eyes shift to stare at what you’re clad in, staying there for a hard minute when you get a rough idea of what he could be thinking of. your cheeks grow hot at the realization, shaking your head when unholy images pop up in your subconscious.

but the butterflies fly away just as fast as they came as his words dawn uppn you. even if it didn’t happen the fact that he wouldn’t mean it, want it, regret it has something in you twisting in pain, are you so bad? or that he actually really thinks of you as his little sister? that you read his affections wrong, assumed his feelings differently? your heart breaks more than a little at that.

“why? is it because i’m not like the others you have been with? because i’m not like eunsang? or because i’m not her? the one you were smiling so hard after talking to? are you dating he-”

“that’s the problem! you’re not like her! you’re not like anyone i've known before! you’re special and i’m afraid i’ll lose you, things will change and just i’ll have to get over you without even getting a chance,” it's the first time he's ever raised his voice at you, and the first time ever he's sounded so desperate, weak and dejected. so vulnerable.

the split moment of sadness dissipates with every word that sinks in. the revelation of a(n after)drunk confession. the fact that you're a different kind of special to him, that he would want a chance to be with you, that he's afraid to lose you. you supres the urge to laugh when it all settles into your understanding. having a better grasp over the bigger picture. your steps are slow and calculated as you walk over to him, sitting across his lap and cupping his cheeks in a fleeting breath of courage. his eyes almost bulge out when you brush your lips lightly against his, mumbling softly,“nothing happened, but if you still want i can give you a chance, it’s going to be hard though tolerating me, think wisely,” you giggle and jake malfunctions for an instant before grabbing you in a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“of course, of course i do want it, i’ve always wanted it,” chanting out in a trance.

“your lips tasted like watermelon,” he mutters out some time after, eyes locking with yours in an intense pull. still in a daze that out of all the bad things that could've happened it was none. literally none plus you perhaps wanting him just as much as he wants you.

“i had some in the morning before you woke up, anyhow yours taste like alcohol and your breath is horrible, go and freshen up,” you push at his shoulder, getting off him to leave the room to cook something. probably (as you said) a recipe searched up on the web, hopefully edible enough for a hungover person.

when he comes out later, all showered and back to the jake you know: the one who likes his hair slightly messy and almost never in a shirt. “why were- are you wearing my shirt then?”

“you practically begged me to last night while sobbing for i don’t know what reason,” he's a bit flustered at that, but hey, it's what got him here, you gotta do what you gotta do.

“candy, you wanna go out tonight? jay and sunghoon wanted to hang out but i don't wanna leave you so i said i’d bring you along,” jake asks, knocking at your door.

it takes you a little over a minute to open up but jake's does not mind it at all for obvious reasons, his jaw comically falling to the floor when you walk out in your tiny little blue sundress and the shade of lipgloss he was dying to see you in. you're unreal.

“yes! i heard you on call earlier,”

“oh my god candy, gimme a princess twirl,” the amount of desire he feels for you right now is unfathomable. biting his lips at the sight of your lace panties underneath that faintly flash him in the mini twirl you do. can you get any hotter?

“just fifteen minutes and i'll be ready,” he got ten minutes to do something about the boner he just popped, and it's more than enough to have him rub one out with what he just saw. maybe add a little hint of imagination and wondering what you'd sound like if he were to touch you down there. especially given the fact that the likelihood of it happening were through the roof now. you almost kissed last week, anything could happen at this point. and jake's dick gets impossibly sensitive at the odds of it.

at the restaurant, jay and sunghoon sit in an awkward silence, watching you both be all over each other. when they agreed for jake to bring his girl along, they didn't expect it to be so bad.

“um jake talks a lot about you,” sunghoon says trying to start a conversation that he knows probably wouldn't go anywhere.

“he does? that's so sweet,” you smile, giggling over something jake whispers in your ear, his hand palming over the plush of your exposed thighs,”what do you wanna eat?” sunghoon nerves feel boiled at the way jake completely skips over his attempt to talk to you. while jay sips at wine, agonizingly slow knowing this is how it's gonna be from now on. their friend is a changed man.

“i have this picture of jake from middle school, you'd love to see it i promise,” a little tipsy, sunghoon's persistence to put himself in the equation albeit admirable, annoys the fuck out of jake, scowling at the other well of aware of the so called picture he wants to share.

“jay man, take care of him. candy and i are going home,” jake gives them a tight lipped smile, holding your rather drunk self (it's just wine you had said)

“see you later ca- y/n,” at first jay leans in for a friendly hug but— nevermind. the way jake stares at him is scarily weird.

jake makes sure to have you sit on the couch before he leaves to get you water but you're sprawled out on the floor when he comes back. mumbling something about how cool the tiles feel against your skin,”come on you should drink some water,” jake pulls you up on your ass, sitting cross legged on the floor beside you. his hand softly holds the back of your head as he brings the glass to your mouth.

“alright say, what did you wanna say?”

“i wanna kiss you,” if jake thinks the pout on your lips is the cutest thing ever then the words you say must have to be the hottest thing ever. how can a simple word like kiss make his heart flutter so bad? and it's not even lust at this point.

he fulfils your wish without a thought, leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. sucking on your bottom lip a second long before he pulls away and boops your nose. no tongue and no other intentions. the after taste of your gloss lingering in his mouth.

“let me tell you a secret,” you whisper out, moving over to his lap, knees on the floor each side.

“i knew you stole my kuromi panties,” he's shocked you know about it, he made sure to be extra careful with it, though his nasty ass was internally hoping you'd catch him.

“mhm, i do have it with me but it's not really wearable now,” he did not see this becoming something sexual but the moment you brought up the panties, you might as well have brought up his dick. man practically re-lived every single time he used it to jerk off, all those orgasms coming to life at once.

“you need to punished!” you whine,

“what do you wanna do?” and jake feels his dick get harder at that.

“can we kiss again?” oh my god, you make him feel so fuzzy and horny at the same time, it's unbelievable. in the guide of jake sim: to make him horny is relatively easy, to get him all fuzzy is once in a lifetime and to get him both at the same time is impossible. yet you do it so effortlessly.

jake answers you with his lips against yours again, relishing in the feeling of them on his own. all those times he wondered of how it'd feel like to kiss you seemed so lame now that he actually did. no imagination could ever come close to way he feels right now. his hand comes up to cup the side of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls away for a moment,”i wanna love you so much and take you on cute little dates and buy you all the food you want and fuck you so hard you only remember my name,”he mumbles against your lips in a bit whisper, letting you take a breath before he dives right back in. this time he lets his tongue slide in, rubbing against your own for a short while only to pull back and go for another trying to keep your lips pressed together for as long as he could. finally pulling away when he feels you push against him a little too roughly, a crawl of shudders all over his skin at the roll of your hips against his bulge.

“wan’ you to fuck me too,” you whine, this time desperately.

“fuck candy, you're drunk we shouldn't be doing this,” he reminds, failing miserably to hold himself back. his hands keep twitching to just grab your hips and grind you down on his dick until you're both cumming together.

“i’m not, i swear. i just drank a little because i couldn't have done this all sober,” even through the layers of clothes, jake can feel your neediness dropping with the way you roll your hips harder against him. speeding up when you think he's pushing you away, but he's just grabbing you closer by the waist. he can't deny how wanted he feels right now, feeling like he'd explode any second. the fuck were you so horny for him?

“are you sure this is okay?” he asks again. no matter how bad he's dying to fuck you, he'll never do it if you don't to.

“‘s okay, please yunie,” you feel his hands slide along your thighs and in between your legs. fingers faintly brushing over the wet patch on your panties in a sharp inhale. he grazes two fingers against your clit, testing the waters. rubbing harder when he feels your breathing pick up it's pace, switching to spank your clit impossibly fast having lost control at the sound of your wanton whimpers.

“don’t move and take it baby,” jake growls, pushing you flush against his chest, making your back arch more and more into him. tits bouncing right up in his face as he bends down to nibble as the exposed skin between them.

he stops for a moment only to push your panties to the side and touch you raw. rubbing rougher and so intense, your legs feel number from pleasure,”has anyone touched you like before?” his jaw clenches hard, eyes dark with want as they remain fixated at the sight of his hands on your pussy. fuck he finally knows what touching you feels like.

“ngh— no, fuck!” and it boosts jake's ego through the roof, he doesn't think he's ever felt as horny as he feels right now. the thought of being the first to touch you in your princess parts, the first you have seen you putty like this, the first to be the one to get you like this. fuck, fuck, fuck! he feels so turned on it's literally inhumane. precum oozing out his tip with every twitch of his dick.

“mm, gonna put my fingers in you,” you feel one of jake's fingers press into you, sliding inside easily with how dripping wet you are. the pornographic moan you let out when he slowly slips in another and curves up has his dick twitch so damn hard he thinks he just came untouched. you sound so cute yet so fucking hot, his mind is in a spiral of everything he wants to do to have you moan like that again and again until you're so drunk on pleasure, you only want him all the time.

“shit you're so tight and warm, can't imagine how good you'd feel around my cock,” his eyes keenly hooked on the way you raise your hips to meet the thrusts halfway,”y-yun, ‘s feels too g-good ah,”

“fuck you're so hot and so perfect for me,” his words travel straight to your core having you clench tight around his fingers and all of a sudden you find your oragasm hitting you as violently as jake continues to run you through it, fast and painfully pleasurable. enamoured and obsessed with the way your doe eyes struggle to stay open, mouth parting in a loud whine, back arching and hips shooting up. god you're a piece of art and jake doesn't think he's ever gonna want anyone other than you.

he immediately stands up with you in his arms, walking over to the kitchen counter and placing you gently on the cold marble. his fingers run through your hair in a soft caress, tucking in the messy strands behind your ears,”you sure you want this? we can stop here if you want. just say the word and i’ll stop,”

“wan’ yun to be my first,” you whimper wearily, jake feels his heart skip a couple of beats. your first, he wants to be your last too and you to be his last.

”gonna make you cum so much harder on my cock,” he places his hands on your thighs in a tight grip and forces them apart fervently. he so damn wants to eat you out but he also wants to feel you cum around his cock, it's a hard choice to make but his cock feels so angry and heavy slick from all the precum he shot out each time you whimpered or moaned or whined, if he'd wait to get his dick wet he'd probably actually come untouched from your sounds and reactions alone. and only god knows(jay too oops) how bad jake sim wants the first time he cums with you to be deep inside you. so much so that he might develop a kink of getting you knocked up (nope you're too young for that!)

he takes his pants off in a snap, practically ripping his boxers along with it, grabbing his rock hard dick, throbbing and red at the tip and trusting into his fist a couple of times. breathing heavy at the way you watch him with your lips between your teeth. he wonders how good it'd feel to watch you touch yourself while he does the same, cumming together with your eyes locked. but he probably doesn't have that kind of self control to just watch you touch yourself, when he can do it himself?

he taps his tip against your clit for a hot minute sliding it along your folds in a strained groan. you're so embarrassing wet, it's like jake could shove himself inside immediately and your you'd hardly feel pain for a while. however, holding back his desires, he pushes into you slowly, holding your body close and stroking your back soothingly,”let me know when i can move,” a tender kiss at your forehead, trying to make sure you know you have the say it in.

jake groans as you give him the go seconds later,”mhmmm candy⁠— baby,” moaning soft and lustful as he pulls out till the tip and thrusts all the way in. your insides feel so warm and gummy, walls clenching around him crazy tight. he thinks he'll lose his mind and end up cumming embarrassingly fast like a teen getting pussy for the first time. the way he feels the pleasure throb in his veins so intense all over his body, it's almost numbing.

your hands loop around his neck, fingers scratching at his back as he pounds into you rough, his pace hard and fast pushing all his body weight against you.

“don't think i can ever get enough of you,”

the sight of the thin straps of your dress slipped to the sides, tits almost spilling out of the front gets jake going, fueling him to grab at you anywhere and everywhere his hands can possibly go,”tell me im dreaming fuckkk— i've wanted you for so long, can't count the number of times i've jerked off to the thought of having you like this, so pretty and dumb under me,” all those evenings when you roamed around the unit in the shortest shorts and the smallest crops, driving him mad shit insane, having to sneak off into the bathroom multiple times. fisting his cock hard, groaning and biting back his moans as he got off to the thought of you, while you sat all unaware and innocent on the other side of the wall.

he stops abruptly, pulling out in a frenzy and turning you around on your heels and pushing you by the back of your neck to lay against the cool granite. one hand going down to grab at your thigh and hook it up on the counter, drooling at the way your pussy glistens from the angle. he shoves his dick back in without a warning, feeling your ass collide against him harsh yet fervid.

you both pant in rasps when his cock hits a sensitive spot inside you. he shifts to angle himself just right to repeatedly brush against that spot and you mewl out loud at that, so loud your neighbours probably know what you're up to.

“fuck i can't stand not seeing your cute face,” jake bends over to grab you by your throat, pulling you up and flush against him, head resting back at his shoulders as he forces to look at him, fingers gripping your jaw softly,”eyes on me, okay baby?” grunting from deep within his chest, a wild grin on his face as he watches you get lost in ecstasy,”i’ll get you addicted to my cock,” just like how addicted he already is with your pussy and everything about you.

his other hand reaches up to tug the front of your dress down, groping up one of your tits, a silk touch to see your reaction. loving the way it's so obvious how sensitive you are there. mouth parting open with you in sensuous gasps as he twists your nipple harshly, rubbing the tip with his thumb. your walls clench a little too hard and your back arches off as you push your hips back into him, the tell tale signs of you getting close,”my baby's gonna cum for me?”

holding your jaw to have your eyes trained on him, he unexpectedly inserts his thumb in your mouth pressing against your wet tongue, your red swollen lips too tempting to resist,“fuck yes, show me how pretty you cum,” you mumble out a series of incoherent words in hazy chant.

the hand on your breast slips down to your lower abdomen pressing rashly against his bulge, feeling faint movement of his cock deep inside you. fuck you're so small and delicate. his hold on you tightening as his calloused fingers find your neglected bud, rolling it in quick, tight circles. it's so painful yet you feel so good, tears wailing down your cheeks as your orgasm crashes hard, overwhelming and violent, thighs trembling and pussy clenching uncontrollably. jake's continues to rub your clit, helping you ride out your high. eyes fluttering shut, and swallowing thickly at the sensation of you creaking over his sensitive length, cock throbbing impossibly hard.

jake refuses to stop even after you have come down,”one more candy, i know you can do one more for me,” hips hammering into you at full force, and lips finding yours in ragged breaths. and it dawns on you what exactly you have gotten yourself into when you feel the two of his fingers protruding at your entrance, trying to push in beside his cock,“if you try to close your legs i'm gonna punish you,” he warns making you whine into his mouth.

in a flash he turns your body to face his, quickly shoving his cock and fingers back into you. his other hand spanking the skin of your ass and kneading it a soft caress after. he eyes hypnotized at the view of you taking him in, a white ring of your cum adorning the base of his cock. he spits at your clit, once again toying with the engorged bud, pinching and flicking,”“gonna make you cum until you pass out, fuck i really wanna do that⁠—” your hand darts out to grip at jake's wrist, feeling too overwhelmed with hypersensitivity. wanting to shy away but the pleasure’s so good you can't bring yourself to push him away.

“but it's your first time,” jake mumbles between hoarse grunts.

before you can even realize it yourself your third orgasm courses through you vehemently. body jerking and twitching, almost falling over if not for jake's hold. jets of cum gushing out as you moan loud.

feeling you spill down his cock, all warm and tight, his brutal rhythm falters,”fuck- ‘m gonna cum,” eyes locking with yours as he thrusts once, twice and then stills, burying himself deep, streams of cum shooting out. hot spurt after spurt, swollen cock twitching against your walls. goosebumps all over, his legs quiver from how hard he came.

he stays quiet and motionless for a while, his arms wrapped around your shaking body. breathing in the scent of your shampoo, trying to calm his pounding heart and cock.

“you good candy? i’m sorry, i think i went a little rough on you,” you nuzzle into him in quiet,’its okay’ as he strokes your head, leaving fluttering kisses over your face. picking you up by the thighs he brings you to your bed, laying you down and gently pulling out. groaning at the way all your mixed cum oozes out, pretty little hole clenching around nothing.

exhausted, you let your mind drift, feeling the drowsiness kick in while jake bends between your legs with a wet towel. whining wearily, when his lips wrap around your nub in a suck, the wet sensation of his tongue against your clit like a shot of electricity,”sorry, baby just had to do that once,” he knew he didn't just call you candy for nothing and he was right. grining sheepishly as he wipes the rest of the cum off, cleaning you all up.

“you're nasty,” you manage to whisper out.

“only for you,” the touch of his body is hot and comforting, arms around your waist cuddling closely(and half naked).

“let's shower together in the morning, wanna eat you out so-”

“jake!”

“what? it's the truth!”

the following around four in the afternoon before jake has to leave for his soccer practice, you approach him on the couch, as always re-watching an episode of vincenzo. you haven't talked much about labels, but it's known to everyone that you're sorta together. more like jake is taken by you. his friends weren't too surprised to know about you both, it was obvious jake had the hots for you and from the little hangout at the restaurant they figured it all worked out for him.

“incoming, pocky!” you sit beside him with a banana flavored pocky stick between your teeth, leaning in teasingly.

“oh you want me so bad,” he plays along inch closer and biting it off in a snap, lips barely brushing against yours.

pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed into his chest, he locks you in place, chuckling at the way you attempt to escape. his fingers twirling the ends of your hair as you surrender in seconds, switching to watching the show absent-mindedly,”my parents wanted to meet you,” he drops the bomb, tracing random letters on your skin to distract of the fact that he just mention a meeting with parents.

“as my roommate, actually,” quickly adding the important point, fingers poking at your cheeks like jello.

“so suddenly though?” you think back on all the things you have ever done to him, for them to want to see you. perhaps they think of you as a snobby girl who’s indulging their son’s already unpleasant habits.

“they’ve actually been wanting to meet you for the past three months, i was putting it off but now summer break is starting next week and i have no more excuses to give,” hugging you, he rests his head on the curve of your neck, breathing in the smell of watermelon that surrounds you after you had basically devoured a whole at lunch. “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to, i’ll talk to them,” he assures, not wanting you to feel obligated to agree, or force yourself despite being uncomfortable.

“no it’s okay, we can go meet them. how long will the drive be?” fumbling with his red knuckles, your mind wanders off to when he fingered you, growing hot and embarrassed all of a sudden. hardly listening in on his answers.

when jake leaves for his soccer practice, you find time to complete the trivial chores around the house. watering the plants with a pout, missing jake more than ever. you have completely different majors and you are not in any clubs either to stay after classes. the only time you spend together being the one at the apartment which is also cut down by his frequent practice sessions, sometimes in the morning during weekends and normally most evenings on weekdays. it makes you ponder on whether you should try out for any club, after all these years doing something else besides studying. but you have no idea what you should consider, having no knowledge on which clubs you could be eligible to join.

it takes you two whole weeks and a bunch of outfit checks to find yourself on your way to meet jake's parents. feeling almost weird and exhilarating at how his parents and his older brother welcome you. treating you so well even though they recognize you as nothing more than just his college apartment roommate who helps fix his laptop and tolerates the boy knowing the kind of womanizer he is. appearing more as a meeting with in-laws when you jake and you are not even official yet, more so they have no idea of what's going between you two.

they try their best to make you feel at home. during the lunch as jake had told them beforehand, his mother had a few sweet dishes prepared for you, coddling you just as jake does back at your unit. they talk to you about casual things including your likes and dislikes, what major you are in, whether jake treats you well, if you have any complaints regarding his behavior. it doesn’t feel as awkward as you as thought it would and you didn't have to put on any act as you prepared yourself to do.

in the beginning of your roommate journey, his accent, his voice was the first thing to attract you but slowly as you explored his personality you came to like him for more than just what attracted you to him. now you as you spend time with people closest to him, you understand where he got it all from. the sweet person he is, which you never expected a fuckboy to be, you didn’t even have an ounce of hope that he’ll acknowledge your presence in the apartment when you got to know about his playing around conduct. yet he turned out to be the sweetest boy you’ve ever come around in your life ( and the nastiest perhaps, )

when you are sitting alone with his brother, while jake is away downstairs to bring you something sugary to eat, his brother takes it as a chance to share his thoughts,“you know until i heard him call you candy a while ago, i was under the impression that 'candy’,” he quotes it specially with a movement of his fingers,“is supposedly a cheerleader fling of his after i saw the contact name showing up when he got a call the last time he was here,” giving you a sly look as he catches sight of jake approaching,“turns out it’s you, i never knew he is the type to give such sweet, unique petnames,”

before you leave in the evening, jake makes sure to let them know that you’re toegther, and that he’s not playing around this time. he’s willing to give effort into it and change his usual ways of living, to be better for himself and as well as for you.

on your way there you had thought of a lot things, had a lot of assumptions and expectations. even prepared yourself to hear things that’ll stick to you not so positively. but what stays in your mind now is completely unexpected and opposite of what you had internally composed yourself for. it’s all you can think of in the car and after you’re back in the comfort of your familiar apartment.

cheerleader, not a bad idea—

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

[mcrdvcks]

—please me

chapter summary: After dating for a while, you want nothing more than for Logan to really please you. Or, you beg Logan to finally fuck you.

word count: 2.2k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: here was the request

i don't have a lot of experience with the corruption kink, but i think this is it?? or maybe not, feel free to correct me😅

warnings/tags: old man logan, age gap, porn no plot, implied oral (f!receiving), pet names, begging, unprotected piv, corruption kink, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, slight crybaby!reader(?), creampie

Normally you wouldn’t beg for something like this. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no man, yet were more than happy to have one.

You weren’t like most girls your age either, moving from guy to guy never staying with one. It just wasn’t for you, you were never a super horny teenager, nor a super horny adult.

But when you started to date Logan, it was like you could feel the shift in your ovaries, and to make matters worse he never went the extra step, no matter how much you said you were ready.

It was always him going down on you, giving you beard burn that you delighted in, with the addition of his lovely thick fingers that always pushed you over. And sure, you went down on him, but that’s where it ended.

And you couldn’t help but want more, but Logan being Logan always made up an excuse about you being too young, or how he didn’t want to ruin a pretty little thing like you.

Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his beard glistening from the evidence of what he’d just done. You were still trembling, clutching at the sheets as the last waves of your release rolled through you, trying to catch your breath.

He shifted, moving up to sit beside you on the couch. The lazy smirk on his face told you he was proud of himself, as if he didn’t already know how good he was with his mouth and those ridiculously skilled fingers.

“You good, doll?” he asked, his voice gravelly and low, sending another shiver through your body.

You nodded, but something in you wasn’t satisfied. Not this time. It wasn’t enough anymore. You wanted more—needed more. And it wasn’t just your body begging; it was something deeper, something primal.

“Logan,” you murmured, sitting up on your knees and reaching out to touch his chest. Your fingers traced the lines of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt. He stiffened slightly, glancing at your hand before looking back up at your face.

“What is it, princess?” His tone softened a bit, though you caught the slight edge of wariness in it. He probably already knew what you were about to ask.

“I want you,” you whispered, leaning closer so your breath ghosted over his ear. “I need you.”

Logan groaned, running a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the temptation that was you. “Y/N… we’ve talked about this. You’re… you’re too young, and I don’t wanna ruin you.”

You pulled back slightly, pouting in that way you knew he couldn’t resist. “I’m not a kid, Logan. I’m old enough to know what I want, and I want you.”

“Damn it, doll, don’t make this harder than it already is,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

You weren’t going to let him get away with brushing you off this time. Shifting, you straddled his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His hands instinctively moved to grip your thighs, and you felt the tension in his body as he tried to keep himself in check.

“Please, Logan,” you pleaded, grinding down against him. His breath hitched, and you knew you were getting to him. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses up to his jaw. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited, but I can’t anymore. I need you.”

He groaned again, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Doll, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, I do,” you said firmly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Logan’s resolve was crumbling; you could see it in the way his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. He exhaled sharply, his grip on your thighs loosening slightly as he leaned his head back against the couch.

“Just the tip,” he muttered, almost as if trying to convince himself more than you. “Just the tip, and we stop if it’s too much.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing as you started to pull at his shirt. Logan’s rough hands came up to still yours, his calloused fingers wrapping around your wrists.

“Doll,” he said, his voice low and strained. “You’re killin’ me here.”

“Good,” you shot back, leaning in close enough that your lips brushed his as you spoke. “Then stop holding back.”

For a second, he didn’t move, his knuckles going white from the tension in his grip. Then, with a growl that vibrated through his chest, Logan released your wrists and let you yank his shirt over his head. The fabric barely hit the floor before his hands were on you again, sliding under your top to feel the softness of your skin. His touch was rough, desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his gaze locking onto yours. His eyes were dark, hungry, but there was a flicker of hesitation there, too.

You answered by pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside, leaving yourself bare before him. His breath hitched, and his hands froze for a moment before sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft gasp, your hips pressing down against him.

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

“Good,” you repeated, your hands moving to the waistband of his jeans. “Because I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”

Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you unbuttoned his jeans and dragged the zipper down. His hips lifted slightly to help you, and you pushed the denim down just enough to free him. The sight of him made your breath catch; he was thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip. You swallowed hard, your excitement and nerves mingling as you wrapped your fingers around him.

“Doll,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Don’t… fuck, don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” you said, shifting so you could line him up with your entrance. You paused, looking up at him one last time. “I want you, Logan. All of you.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. “Just the tip,” he muttered, as if trying to convince himself. “We’ll stop if it’s too much.”

You nodded, your hands braced on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. The stretch was intense, bordering on overwhelming, but the pleasure that came with it was undeniable. Logan’s hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, and his head tipped back as a low, guttural groan escaped him.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he hissed. “You’re so… tight. Fuck.”

You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to the intrusion. “Logan…”

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained. His hands flexed on your hips, like he was fighting the urge to move.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… give me a second.”

He nodded, his chest heaving as he tried to keep still. But as the initial sting faded and the pleasure began to build, you couldn’t help but start to move. You lifted yourself up slightly before sinking back down, and the friction sent a wave of heat through your body.

“Fuck,” Logan groaned, his hands guiding your movements as you began to pick up the pace. “Doll, you… you feel too good. I—fuck.”

Your response was a breathy moan, your head tipping back as you rode him. The way he filled you, stretched you, was almost too much, but you didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t. Not when it felt this good.

"Logan," you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Please… I need… more."

Logan clenched his jaw, his self-control unraveling as your breathy voice and soft pleas pushed him further. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet more firmly on the floor, and wrapped one arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head so he could press his lips to your temple.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for, princess," he muttered, his voice rough, low, and dangerously close to a growl. But even as he spoke, he rolled his hips up into you, just enough to pull a choked gasp from your lips.

"I do," you whispered, your forehead resting against his shoulder. Your nails scraped lightly down his arms, and you moved your hips again, meeting his shallow thrust. "Please… I… I can take it."

Logan swore under his breath, his grip on your waist tightening. "You’re gonna regret beggin' like that," he warned, but the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips betrayed his own amusement at your desperation.

He thrust up into you harder, and the sharp cry that escaped you sent a shiver down his spine. Your body clenched around him, the slick heat driving him mad. The way you buried your face in the crook of his neck, panting and babbling softly, only added to his torment.

"Logan," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Feels s’good… oh… ohhh… please…"

"Look at you," Logan said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. He gripped your hips tighter, guiding you as you started to move more erratically. "Beggin' me to fuck you, and now you can’t even talk straight."

Your only response was a breathy whine, your body trembling as you moved against him. Logan’s smirk grew as he thrust up into you again, harder this time, making you cry out. Your hands fisted in his hair, your nails dragging along his scalp as your head tipped back.

"Oh… ohhh Logan," you babbled, the sound broken and desperate. "Please… don’t stop… more… more."

Logan’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle, but his movements never faltered. He braced his feet against the floor and began to move, his hips snapping up into yours in a steady rhythm that had you gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

"Thought you wanted me to take it slow," he teased, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. "Now look at you, ridin' me like you can’t get enough."

Your response was incoherent, a string of soft cries and gasps as you clung to him. Your head fell forward onto his shoulder again, your breath hot against his neck as you mumbled, "So good… so good… ohhh… Logan…"

He groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hand slid down to grip your ass, pulling you down onto him harder with each thrust. "Yeah, that’s it, doll. Take it. You wanted this, didn’t you?"

"Y-yes," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Wanted… you… so much… oh… ohh…"

Logan growled, his hips bucking up into you more forcefully. Your cries grew louder, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with his relentless pace. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending lit up as he filled you over and over again.

"Fuck, you’re close," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel it. You gonna come for me, princess?"

You nodded frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. "Y-yes… oh… Logan… I… I…"

He didn’t let you finish, his hand sliding up your back to pull you even closer as he drove into you harder. Your body tensed, your cries turning into broken sobs of pleasure as your climax crashed over you.

"That’s it," Logan murmured, his voice rough but tender. "Let go for me, doll. Let me feel you."

You came undone, your body trembling and your head falling against his shoulder as you sobbed his name. Logan groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through the aftershocks, each thrust pulling another shuddering moan from your lips.

"Too much," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Logan… too much… can’t…"

But Logan didn’t stop. He slowed his movements slightly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back, but he kept going, his own release building as he pushed you past the edge.

"You’re fine," he said softly, his voice a deep rumble. "You can take it. You’re stronger than you think."

You whimpered, your body shivering as the overstimulation sent jolts of pleasure-pain through you. Logan pressed a kiss to your temple, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.

"Almost there, doll," he muttered, his voice strained. "Just hold on a little longer."

You nodded weakly, your hands clutching at him as he thrust into you one last time, his body tensing as he spilled inside you. He groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he held you close, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the TV in the background. Logan’s hands ran up and down your back soothingly, his touch grounding you as you both came down from the high.

"You okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft and laced with concern.

You nodded, your face still buried in his neck. "Yeah," you murmured, your voice hoarse. "More than okay."

Logan chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "Good. Because you’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow, princess."

You let out a breathless laugh, your body relaxing against him as a warm, contented silence settled over you both.

[jobean12-blog]

Sunshine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 6.4K

Summary: It's a beautiful day that turns even more beautiful when you run into the most handsome man you've ever seen...and the grumpiest. Will his good looks be enough for you to stick around and get to know him?

Author's Note: I love a grumpy!Bucky and a reader who just won't give up on him! Kind of sunshine/grumpy trope with enemies/lovers mixed in a little too. This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy 🥰

Warnings: fun, flirty tension, a tiny bit of angst, grumpy!bucky, fluffy sweetness too

Waiting in line at your favorite coffee shop is always worth it and today, after a restless night, you really need the extra boost. Even though you’re behind schedule the stop is a necessity and despite the busy morning rush the line is moving quickly but apparently not fast enough for the person behind you who lets out a loud and frustrated huff.

Trying to be discrete you turn and look out of the corner of your eye.

The sight of him strikes you in a way you’re not prepared for.

Then the barista calls your name. You blink, dazed but thankfully able to recover well enough to give the barista a warm smile and thanks.

As you grab your napkins and gather your things you can’t help but steal glances at the man. He’s tall and broad shouldered, wearing a leather jacket that shows his biceps shaping the fabric, his long legs are clad in well fitted dark denim, and he’s the perfect mix of masculinity and male beauty.

His brooding expression doesn’t falter as he retrieves his drink order, but he does say ‘thank you’ and to your continued surprise, ‘excuse me,’ to whomever he passes.

With one last longing glance you head for the door, walking out into the sunshine and crossing the street to your favorite bench to enjoy your coffee before work.

You’re focused on your phone while you sip slowly so at first you don’t notice the dark shadow looming over you. But the rumbly and gruff voice startles you.

“You’re in my seat.”

You look up, shielding your eyes from the sun to see nothing more than a large shadow.

“What?” you ask, feeling discombobulated.

The shadow shifts and your eyes widen when you see the man from the coffee shop, his glower ferocious despite your now big smile.

“This is your seat?...It’s a whole bench.”

“Yeah…well.”

You look at the open space next to you and offer out a hand. “There’s more than enough room for both of us.”

His eyes narrow but he sits.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” you say brightly.

“I’m here almost every day,” he answers.

You keep your smile in place.

“Well, I’m running late so that must be why I haven’t seen you before.”

“Then why are you sitting on this bench talking to me?” he asks.

You bristle inwardly but your smile doesn’t falter.

“I still have time. I usually get in early, so it won’t be a problem.”

He stares at you, the breeze catching his scent and blowing it your way.

You try not to inhale, focusing on the fact that he’s super grumpy instead of the fact that he’s super hot and smells really good.

“I enjoy sitting out in the sunshine. It helps me feel grounded before I really start the day.”

The words tumble out unprompted but under his narrowed gaze you find yourself feeling less confident than usual.

He just “hmphs” in response and looks away, taking a sip of his drink.

“You say you sit here every day so what’s with all the…” and you motion to him, “grumpy? Is the sunshine not good enough for you?”

He turns your way again, lips pressed together but his eyes flaring with surprise. Before he can respond his phone rings. He looks at the screen with another mild puff of air then swipes his thumb over it.

“Wilson,” he says gruffly.

His voice drops low, and you look down at your phone, trying not to listen. Most of the conversation on his part is a series of grunts and mumbled responses so it’s hard to follow anyway.

After hanging up he stands abruptly and looks down at you, his gaze lingering before he gives you a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgement and starts to walk off.

You yell after him, “I hope you find some sunshine!”

He doesn’t turn around but you’re sure you see his steps falter for just a second.

It’s only after you finish your drink that you stand and start the short walk to work, surprised to catch sight of the grumpy stranger across the street at the local VA, squatting down in front of an older man with a dog.

The grumpiness is gone, replaced by a warm smile that crinkles his eyes. All the air goes out of your lungs.

He looks up at that moment, noticing you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk across the street. His smile fades and you drop your head, speed walking away.

It’s Saturday morning and you’re standing outside the bakery, texting your friend to get their donut order. The door opens and you barely have time to register the whiff of familiar scent that floats by you when you look up and lock eyes with Mr. Grumpy himself.

You smile in greeting.

“You,” he answers.

Your grin widens. “Me. What are the chances? Your favorite bench stealer!”

He sighs heavily and glances back at the door to the bakery before pinning you with his stare again.

Now that the sun isn’t shining in your eyes you have a better chance to see the color of his. They’re blue. A gorgeous ocean colored blue framed by long, dark, and thick lashes.

His attention strays down your body and you feel tingles everywhere his eyes touch.

“Here for something sweet?” you ask.

He never gets the chance to answer because a man comes up behind him and grabs his shoulder, giving him a slight shove to move in front and say hi.

“Barnes! Aren’t you going to introduce me to your beautiful friend here?”

You smile warmly.

“Sam. Sam Wilson,” the friend says in introduction.

“Hi Sam!” you greet and give him your name.

“Barnes didn’t tell me he made a new friend,” Sam says.

“Barnes?” you repeat.

You direct your question to Mr. Grumpy whose been standing there silently murdering Sam with his eyes since he appeared.

Sam smiles triumphantly. “This here is James, but his friends call him Bucky.”

“Hi Bucky. Nice to officially meet you!”

Your tone is light and airy, and you wave.

“Hey,” Bucky answers, then turns to Sam. “Let’s go, the guys are looking forward to these donuts.”

“Is he always this grumpy?” you ask Sam.

Silence falls between you all, but it only lasts a moment, broken then by Sam’s loud cackle.

“Oh, I like her already!” Sam says.

Ignoring your comment-and Sam’s-Bucky repeats, “let’s go Wilson!”

Sam returns the favor, ignoring Bucky and focusing on you. “You should come down and visit us at the VA sometime. He’s never grumpy around the guys.”

“So just me then?” you ask with a laugh.

“That’s just because he thinks you’re beautiful,” Sam winks.

You steal a glance at Bucky and note the slight pink color that paints his cheeks.

“It was nice meeting you Sam. And you too Bucky.”

With those last words and a smile, you skirt past them and walk into the bakery. After placing your order you’re shocked to find Bucky standing at the pickup counter, hands in his pockets and shuffling on his feet.

“Miss me already?” you tease.

He doesn’t answer and instead hands you a business card. You take it and look down, reading the information for the VA and Bucky’s name.

“Thanks,” you say, meeting his eyes again and noting the pink still coating his cheeks.

He doesn’t answer but you think you see his lips lift into what might be a small smile before he casually strolls off.

His jeans are molded perfectly to his perfect ass, and you sigh.

“Are you going to go visit him?” Diana asks through a mouthful of donut.

“Nah,” you answer.

Diana’s eyes bug out of her head with a gasp.

“Um you said he was insanely hot. I don’t’ get it. You don’t NOT go visit.”

“You do if he’s a grumpy jerk.”

Diana laughs. “Maybe he needs to eat more of these donuts!”

You roll your eyes. “He had a whole box of them. He was with his friend Sam who was also hot. I should go visit him.”

“Ohhh make Mr. Grumpy jealous. I like it.”

You shove the card into your bag and grab a donut.

“I think we need more donuts for this day,” you retort.

After a long donut filled debate with Diana you decide to make the call to the VA office. To your happy surprise Sam answers.

“Hi Sam,” you say and tell him your name, thrilled he remembers you.

“I was just thinking I’d like to bring some treats down to the office this week. Is there anything in particular I should get?”

You can practically hear Sam’s smile through the phone. He rattles off some orders and then tells you the days and times that would work. When you hang up you feel lighter just knowing you could do something kind.

You’ve never been in the VA building before even though you’ve passed by it many times. The interior is warm and inviting and has a large walnut desk and matching benches nearby.

At the sight of the benches, you laugh to yourself, wondering if Bucky claimed these seats too.

“Hey.”

You barely catch the quiet greeting but look up to see Bucky standing by a doorway. You suddenly feel hyperalert, every inch of your sensitive tingling and awake. You almost forgot how gorgeous he is, his light blue henley fitted around his broad chest and his dark jeans showing off those long and muscular legs.

Your heart flutters as he crosses the hallway, hard expression on his face, before he stares down at the box of donuts.

“You can’t eat them all!”

He gives you a quelling look, though you’re sure you catch a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“I can actually,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone, “but when I’m here I share.”

“What if I want one?” you ask, feeling brave and maybe a little flirtatious.

It takes him a moment to answer as he holds you under his keen regard, sweeping his gaze down your body before it lingers on your lips and finally returns to your eyes.

“Maybe,” he grumbles, then turns on his heel. “Follow me.”

You enter a room with tables and chairs set up and one long counter and cabinets in the back where you see a coffee machine, refrigerator, and small microwave.

“Do you have a favorite?”

His question surprises you and it takes you a minute to realize he’s referring to the donuts.

“OH, yeah definitely. The Bavarian cream is the best!”

“Hm,” he replies.

He doesn’t indulge you with his favorite, so you decide to ask.

“What about you?”

“Glazed,” he says, then adds, “with sprinkles.”

You stare at him for a beat then a laugh bursts out of you.

“I was not expecting the sprinkles!”

You’re too busy laughing to notice his smile.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I visit,” you tell him when you finally catch your breath.

“You want to come back?” he asks, eyes narrowed.

You don’t have a chance to answer because Sam enters the room with a boisterous greeting.

“There you are!” he says. “So glad you stopped by to see us.”

“And I brought donuts!”

“Perfect,” Sam says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

You look back at Bucky as Sam leads you out of the room. “Don’t eat any of those!”

Bucky’s scoff is the last thing you hear before you step out into the hallway.

After Sam gives you a tour you meet some of the veterans while you share donuts. It’s wonderful to talk with them and make them laugh and you’re happy you made the visit.

Right before you leave you run into Bucky who’s hovering over the last of the box of donuts.

“Slim pickings huh?” you say as you look into the mostly empty box.

“Yeah,” he huffs with a scowl.

“Lucky for you,” you say and open the cabinet above your head, “I stashed one in here earlier before we gave them out.”

You pull out the paper plate and take the napkin off to reveal a glazed donut with colored sprinkles.

He studies you in such a way that your thighs press tightly together in reaction. His expression is irritatingly unreadable as your eyes meet again.

He shifts as if he’s uncomfortable, an awkward silence hanging between you, before he blurts out, “thanks doll.”

His expression morphs into one of surprise and it matches yours, but you recover quickly enough with a warm smile.

“You’re welcome Bucky. Thanks for having me.”

You’re just getting situated with your book on the couch, rain pelting the window outside, when your phone rings.

Sam’s name lights up the screen and you answer with an excited, “Ghostbusters, whaddya want?”

The silence your met with is unexpected as you were hoping for one of Sam’s bright laughs.

“Tell me that’s not how you answer your phone normally.”

At Bucky’s weary comment your smile falls. “Bucky? I thought it was Sam?”

“You sound disappointed,” he points out.

“Only because you seem bothered by my amazing phone answering skills. I’m sorry that one got lost on you. Sam would have loved it.”

“So, if you knew it was me calling what would have said?” he asks.

“Uh…hello?”

“Uh hello?”

“No…just, hell, ugh! Why are you calling me from Sam’s phone.”

Silence again.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah…I didn’t have your number and wasn’t sure you’d answer if I called from mine so…”

“Ok,” you say. “And now that you have mine just text me and I’ll have yours.”

He’s quiet again before he continues in a rush of words.

“So, we’re having our annual fundraiser gala soon and Sam mentioned that you said you’d like to volunteer more, and we could use some help planning.”

“I’m definitely interested,” you cheer. “When should I come by?”

You get all the information you need from Bucky and then hang up, his conversation stilted when you started getting more excited and telling him that you were looking forward to working with him and helping. He hung up with a mumbled goodbye and never text you to give you his number.

It makes your thoughts of his disinterest solidify and you try to let it go and focus on the good you’ll be doing.

The week moves slowly but when Friday comes around you feel the same lightness from the last time you visited the VA. It gives you renewed energy, and you open the door with a smile, searching for the familiar face of Sam or Bucky.

You don’t see either of them, so you head down the hallway to the small dining room. Sam is at the front by one of the windows. He waves, pointing to his phone to signal he’ll be right off, and Bucky is at the counter.

He turns to face you, and you walk over.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hiya doll,” he answers.

Confusion washes over you at his sweet endearment, but you push it down and focus on what he’s holding.

“More donuts!” you exclaim.

“We always have them,” he says lightly. “I got you a Bavarian.”

At your silence you feel his eyes on you, and you drag them away from the perfectly powdered and filled deliciousness in the box.

“Why didn’t you text me?” you ask without thinking.

“What?” he says, his brow furrowed.

“You never text me to give me your number.”

His attention never leaves you, his gaze drifting from your head down to your feet. When he reaches your face again he stares and pulls his phone from his back pocket.

“Can I have your number?” he asks quietly.

“Sure,” you say and take his phone to program it in.

“Thanks,” he says.

“And thank you for my donut,” you finally say. “That was really thoughtful.”

He nods and grabs a glazed before motioning for you to follow him. The rest of the day is spent pouring over invites and food orders as well as any little detail that needs to be squared away before the event.

Most of the time it’s you, Sam and Bucky seated at a table, but Sam leaves occasionally to take a phone call or manage something in the office.

During the down time you learn more about Bucky, asking questions and mostly getting abridged but not unfriendly answers. He seems genuinely interested in what you have to say and that, again, confuses you more as to his intentions-if he has any at all.

Once the sun has set and you’re worn out you help them clean up then gather your things.

“How are you getting home?” Sam asks as you walk together to the door.

“I think I’m gonna walk,” you tell him.

Bucky makes a sound of disapproval behind you.

“What?” you turn and ask.

“It’s late,” he states.

“And?” you answer.

“It’s not safe.”

“I appreciate your concern but after sitting most of the afternoon I want to walk.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

At Bucky’s statement both you and Sam give him a wide-eyed look.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell Bucky.

“Nah, he’s right,” Sam chimes in. “He should go with you. I would offer but I’m in the opposite direction.”

Sam tries to hide his smirk, but it’s written all over his face, so you just smile and accept Bucky’s kind and gentlemanly offer.

“Just gimme a sec. I want to grab something from my bike.”

“Bike?” you murmur as you track his movement toward a sleek black motorcycle parked at the curb.

Holy shit.

He doesn’t say a word as he walks back toward you.

“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says while running a hand through his hair. “You know…easier in the city.”

“Smart and badass. It’s beautiful.”

That’s when he smiles at you, a real smile, for the very first time.

You nearly swoon.

“Yeah?” He looks boyishly pleased about your reaction.

You nod and give the bike one last look before you fall into step beside him. You chat about everything from the upcoming event to how he met Sam and even find out more about his motorcycle. He’s more open and comfortable and indulges you with more details about anything you ask.

As you pass by a bar a large crowd of young people come out, clearly drunk and rowdy as they sway and swerve as a mass toward you.

Bucky links your fingers together and deftly slides you out of harms way. Your skin tingles, little sparks of feeling shooting up your arm and it’s all you can concentrate on until the group passes by and continues down the street in a clamor.

“They seem like they’re having fun,” you giggle. “Thanks for the save there.”

The corner of his mouth starts to tilt upward and then he remembers he has a hold on your hand and his eyes drop and widen and he quickly let’s go, clearing his throat and mumbling, “no problem.”

“Did you ever go out like that and get wild?” you ask after a beat, hoping to lighten the mood again.

“Who me?” he asks and blows a raspberry. “Nah. I’m not really into big crowds much.”

“Then you should really enjoy the gala next week,” you say wryly.

“Right?” he answers. “If it weren’t for such a good cause and important to me, I’d skip it all together and stay behind the scenes.”

“Well at least you’ll have Sam!” you say in support.

“Actually…he’s usually caught up in everything since I leave all the talking and canoodling to him.”

“Canoodling,” you repeat and cover your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I can’t imagine you not wanting to canoodle.”

Your delivery drips with sarcasm, and he throws you another killer smile.

He has the sexiest smile ever. Of course he does. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t smile a lot, because of its killer effect? Or is he really just Mr. Grumpy? One or the other.

When you reach your apartment you walk toward the double doors, thanking him for walking you home. Searching for your keys in your bag you end up dropping your phone, bending to pick it up at the same time Bucky does.

You bump heads and he immediately apologizes and rests his hand gently on your forehead.

“You ok?” he asks, rubbing his thumb soothingly.

“Yeah,” you say, slightly breathless.

His gaze drops to your lips and lingers before coming back to your eyes.

“Hey um…” he starts, those beautiful blue eyes studying you, sweeping over your features, as if tallying every little detail he finds.

“Yeah?” you ask, giving him a sweet and reassuring smile.

“Uh, thanks, for the help today. I’ll see you soon.”

You deflate at his quick departure; telling him it was “your pleasure and you’ll see him later.”

You’re not even to your apartment door when your phone chimes. You retrieve it from your pocket and see Bucky’s name on the screen.

You open the text and nearly drop your phone again.

'Do you want to be my date to the fund raiser?'

Like sunshine bursting through a cloud, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, a fluttery warning that you’re way in over your head.

“What are you going to wear?” Diana asks as you stand in front of your closet.

“I have no idea!” you sigh. “I asked for a dress code, and he said ‘formal’…and that’s it. Then I asked what he was wearing, and he said, ‘a tux.’”

“Not very chatty, is he?” she mutters.

You shrug at stare at your closet that has nothing appropriate in it.

“Looks like we’re going shopping,” Diana says as she jumps off the bed and grabs her bag. “Come on, we’re gonna find you something that will knock his socks off.”

Bucky picks you up in a town car, and you smile graciously as he opens the door for you, your internal nerves wild as you wait for his reaction to your appearance.

Unfortunately, his reaction isn’t worth the nerves because he stares blankly at you before giving you an abrupt nod of greeting.

All the while you try not to drool over him in a tux.

When you arrive inside you can’t hide your beaming smile. It looks beautiful. All the details having come together perfectly to create an elegant yet comfortable atmosphere.

“You’re really doing wonderful work here,” you tell Bucky.

He holds out his arm for you and smiles. “Thanks doll.”

“You’re here!”

You turn at the familiar voice. Sam hurries over and takes you in.

“Wow,” he says, raising his brows. “Lucky man Barnes.”

He claps Bucky on the shoulder. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be around if you need me.”

Bucky places his hand on your lower back and leads you across the room to the table. Your breath catches at the sensation of his hand on your bare skin, but you try to shake it off.

His hand presses deeper into your back, and you follow his guide. People greet him and he says hello, but he doesn’t stop to chat.

“Shouldn’t you be taking the time to talk with these people?” you ask.

“Probably,” he says as he pulls out your chair.

You snort because he sounds like he couldn’t care less.

You’re the first people at the table and you stare at the fancy centerpiece.

“It really does look amazing in here.”

Bucky glances over it all, bemused.

“It does. I guess it’s necessary.”

“What do you mean,” you ask.

“I come to these events for Sam and the veterans. I want to raise money and help but if it were up to me it would all be quiet and low key. This kind of socializing isn’t my first choice.”

Turning to study his handsome face, you smile. “Is any kind of socializing your choice?”

He throws you a dark but amused look. “You’re funny”

You hold back more laughter and touch his knee, giving it a soft squeeze. His eyes meet yours and you swallow around the sudden sensation of your racing heart.

Needing to break the intense eye contact, you turn to observe the room, noting that more people are heading to their tables.

You spot Sam talking to a lovely woman and you feel Bucky’s smile.

“Sam likes her,” Bucky says quietly.

“Who is she?” you ask in a whisper.

He leans into you, his breath tickling your cheek as he murmurs, “the daughter of one of our veterans. They’ve met a few times, and I can tell he’s totally taken with her.”

You turn your head slightly, bringing your faces just inches apart. “She’s lovely. I’m sure she likes him too.”

His attention moves from Sam to you, and his eyes narrow as he realizes how close you are. But he doesn’t move back. Instead, he searches your eyes.

Your heartbeat skips and you’re almost afraid to breathe.                      

Needing to break the tension once again, you wrench your gaze away and find Sam shooting you a quick glance.

“I have the sudden urge to run over there and embarrass him,” you say with a devious smile.

Bucky’s answer is to move away but only because he throws his head back in laughter.

“I’d pay to see that,” he replies, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Before long, your table is filled, and Bucky introduces you to the people he knows. The older couple sitting nearest to you is just smitten with both you and Bucky, peppering you with questions and hanging on your every word.

They tell you their life story too, how they found each other and fell in love and have been together ever since. It warms you and you give his thigh another squeeze under the table.

He places his hand over yours and brushes his thumb across your knuckles.

The food comes and you turn his way, lightly tugging on your hand.

“I need that to eat,” you giggle.

“Oh, right,” he says with one more sweep of his thumb before he releases you with a soft expression.

The food is delicious, and you find yourself smiling between every bite.

“You two look like you’re having a good time.”

Bucky stiffens next to you, and you wait for his move before following his gaze to the older woman standing behind you.

“Don’t you look handsome as always James,” she comments then flits her eyes to you but doesn’t say anything more.

Bucky smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Mrs. Whitman. How are you?”

“Fine, just fine. Now I need to steal you away for a moment.”

Bucky’s eyes lift over Mrs. Whitman’s shoulder and his lips turn down in a frown.

“I can’t, sorry Mrs. Whitman. I’m here with someone.”

He looks at you and smiles.

Mrs. Whitman sighs, clearly annoyed.

“You can’t spare just a moment?” she pleads, trying to appear genuine.

“Sorry,” Bucky says as kindly as he can.

Without a goodbye she huffs off and you wait until she’s far enough away before looking at Bucky. His frown melts away as your gazes lock.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Her husband was a veteran, and he recently passed. She’s been trying to set me up with her daughter since, but I’m not interested.”

“I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble,” you tell him.

“No. Not at all doll. She can be rude sometimes, but I think she’s just struggling with grief and doesn’t know what to do with herself. I feel bad, but like I said. I’m really not interested.”

You smile reassuringly then excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a little air. When you return, you see Bucky hasn’t moved from his seat and his gaze is zeroed in on the hallway to the bathroom.

As you cross the room toward him, his eyes drift down your body. His gaze lingers on your bare shoulders and the sway of your hips and by the time you reach the table, you need another restroom break to cool off.

He doesn’t move out of the way, so you have to brush up against him to sit back down. When your eyes meet, his are heated. You stare at each other, the music and chatter around you fading away.

The lovely old woman next to you breaks you out the haze when she asks where the restroom is. You point her in the right direction, telling her you’ll happily escort her, but she refuses kindly and slowly makes her way through the crowd.

Once she’s safely down the hallway, you look away and find yourself staring at Bucky. His face is close.

Too close.

Or maybe just close enough depending on how you look at it.

His eyes search yours and you ignore the rushing in your ears as you close the distance between you and gently brush your lips over his.

Your mouth tingles from the brief touch as you pull away.

He scowls hard at your mouth, but you’re not sure if it’s because you kissed him or because you barely kissed him.

“What…?” he starts to ask roughly, but a loud banging at the front of the room, startles you and pulls your attention away.

Sam stands at a small podium, a smile on his face as he greets everyone.

Nice timing Sam.

‘How’s work today?’

You smile at you phone and Bucky’s name on the screen.

‘It’s going…’ you type back. ‘How about you? I know you said your day was going to be busy.’

‘Up and down. We made some really good progress with one of our veterans today, but we lost one of our oldest members to cancer.’

‘Oh Bucky. I’m sorry it’s been a tough day. Do you need anything? I can come by on my lunch break.’

‘Thank you doll, I appreciate it. But it’s unfortunately something I’ve gotten used to. Comes with the territory.’

‘I’m here if you need anything.’

‘Thanks.’

You’re just clearing your desk at the end of the day when your phone rings. You smile at the sight of Bucky’s name, and you’re not surprised considering you’d received a text to inform you that your delivery had been successfully made.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hey.” His voice is low, a little hoarse. He clears his throat. “You sent me donuts.’

You grin at how confused he sounds. “I did and cookies.”

In fact, you sent him a dozen glazed- with sprinkles of course- donuts and a box full of assorted cookies from your usual favorite bakery.

“I wanted you to have a little treat after a long day. I know you might be used to it but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard on you.”

He’s quiet so long you have a horrible feeling that you may have crossed a line. But then he speaks.

“Thank you doll. I really appreciate it.”

You smile and try to quell the butterflies dancing around your stomach. “You’re welcome!”

“I’ve never had so many glazed donuts to myself!” There’s a teasing tone to his confession.

“But you have to share the cookies!” you tell him, trying to sound stern.

“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” he laughs. “But really, thank you.”

“It was nothing,” you say trying to shake off the giddy feeling he’s giving you with a shrug he can’t see.

His voice is gravelly when he promises, “it’s not nothing to me.”

You teeter on your feet. “Well, I’m glad it cheered you up a little. I’m just heading out of work so…”

“So, I’ll let you go.”

Did you hear a smile in his voice?

“I’ll see you this weekend for Sam’s BBQ?”

“Yes! Looking forward to it,” you say.

“Great doll, see you then and I am too.”

With that, he hangs up and you stand at your desk and try to slow the rapid beating of your heart.

Bucky picks you up on his bike and you’re barely ashamed at how excited you are to ride with him.

He revs the engine when he pulls up at the curb where you’re standing and settles the bike with his leg on the sidewalk.

“No helmet?” you ask with a wave.

He sucks in a breath and his eyes are glued to your legs.

“Wrong outfit?” you say as you track his gaze. “I can go…”

“Nope,” he says quickly.

He hops off the bike and offers a hand to help you get on, squeezing his eyes closed when you get close to him and your shoulder brushes against his chest.

“Are you ok?” you ask him, looking up into his blue eyes.

“Yep. All good,” he says, voice strained.

You narrow your eyes at his sharp tone but take his offered hand and help onto the bike. Once you’re wrapped around him and pressed to his back you lean up and say, “what’s going on? You seem grumpy today?”

“Nothing,” he replies before revving the engine and pulling away from the curb.

It doesn’t take long to get to Sam’s and when you arrive Bucky parks his bike and hops off lithely and you wait for him to offer his hand to help you off.

To your surprise he takes you by the waist and lifts you off the bike in one easy movement. Your body is plastered to his as your feet slide to the ground.

You shiver at the contact.

“You cold?” He frowns at you.

“Nope,” you answer, looking away and straightening the bottom of your dress.

Over his shoulder you see Sam walking your way.

“There you two are!” he yells.

You wave and smile.

“You look gorgeous as always,” Sam says.

Sam leads the way to the backyard and Bucky places a hand at your lower back. Your brain fritzes and it’s all you can think about as you walk through the yard saying hello to people as you pass.

When you reach Sarah, Sam’s sister, you greet her with a warm hello, having met her once before at the VA. Bucky joins in the conversation, his fingers still warmly pressed into your skin when he starts to draw little circles on your lower back.

You suck in a breath and trip over your words and then he splays his palm and slides it around to your hip, drawing you into his side.

Your heart stops.

Sarah doesn’t seem to notice or if she does she doesn’t make it known and when Sam calls for her help she rushes off with a promise to come back and chat after.

“You seem to be in a better mood now that we’re here,” you say as you turn your eyes to Bucky.

His eyebrows draw in. “I…you look gorgeous.”

Your lips part and your mouth falls open.

“You always do. You did at the fund raiser. You do today. It’s just…I’m not good at…”

He trails off, his words dying on his lips and his cheeks turning your favorite shade of pink.

His words fill you with relief and you swear that it’s the lingering heat of that barely there kiss from the gala that you can’t seem to forget because the next thing you know you’re grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling his lips down to yours.

You intend it to be a quick kiss, but he brings one of his hands to the back of your neck and the other presses deep into your back as he takes over. Your small gasp turns into a moan, and it ignites him. He deepens the kiss, hungry and desperate and it sets every inch of you on fire.

“Uh, there are children present.”

Sam’s voice cuts through the moment like a bucket of cold water and you move back. Bucky’s hand flexes at the back of your neck as if to stop you from moving away from him. You breathe hard and state at each other.

Best. Kiss. Of. Your. Life.

Bucky appears dazed enough for you to believe maybe it was for him too.

The party around you comes back to life and Sam’s broad smile fills your vision. He claps Bucky hard on the back. “I knew ya had it you Barnes!”

Sam saunters off with some extra pep to his step and you watch him walk back into the house. Bucky’s fingers close around yours and he tugs you away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer but just holds tightly to your hand until you reach a small garden enclosed by a low white fence. At the back there’s a wrought iron bench just big enough for two.

“This is so pretty,” you whisper as he walks you through the garden.

When you reach the bench he turns your way.

“You’re really going to share the bench with me?” you ask playfully.

His answer is to lift his hand to cup your jaw, his eyes dropping to your mouth. You hold your breath as he leans in. The first contact he makes is just a brush of his lips over yours. The briefest sweep.

“I’m sorry I was such an ass that first day we met,” he whispers against your lips. “I was having a rough day but it’s no excuse.”

“It’s ok,” you breathe out. “I forgive you.”

He does it again. Sweeps his lips along yours and you hear the quietest moan escape his throat as he leans in closer, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his.

With a smile forming against your mouth, he tilts his head and kisses you with a heat that rivals the one only minutes ago. His free hand slides around your waist and smooths along the curve of your spine, dragging you up against his body.

Without an audience he kisses you long enough to have you pulling back for need of air.

“Bucky,” you whisper, grabbing his biceps for support.

“I really am sorry,” he murmurs.

“You’re good at that.”

“At what?” he asks, distracted by your mouth again.

“Kissing.”

He hums. “That’s only because I’m kissing you. And I plan to keep kissing you. For as long as you’ll let me.”

“Forever sounds good,” you whisper at the feel of his lips hovering over yours.

“Won’t be long enough but it’s a start doll.”

[sutorus]

BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 

PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader

WC: 5.1k whoops!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 

A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!

you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 

nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 

it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 

in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 

sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 

besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 

toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 

it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 

you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 

but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.

you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 

with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 

“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”

he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”

you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“

“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”

“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 

without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”

an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.

you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 

“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”

“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 

you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.

“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”

that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 

“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”

“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 

toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 

“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 

you can feel your face flush.

“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 

instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.

his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 

he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 

you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 

you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 

he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.

you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 

so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 

“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”

“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 

“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”

toji scoffs.

“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”

you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”

toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”

oh, if he only knew. 

“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”

toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 

“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”

you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“

“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”

you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 

“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“

you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.

you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.

he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 

you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 

his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 

soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.

it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 

“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”

“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”

toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.

your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.

toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.

“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”

a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.

he noticed.

he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 

“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 

he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.

god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 

you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.

he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.

your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 

toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 

it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.

you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 

you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 

toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.

you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 

“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”

you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 

“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”

you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 

toji’s having none of it.

he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 

“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 

you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.

toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 

he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 

he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.

“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 

you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.

toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 

you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 

toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 

you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.

toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 

it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 

it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.

he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 

“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 

you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 

he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”

you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 

toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 

“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”

you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 

you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.

when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 

“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”

he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 

you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 

his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 

“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.

you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 

the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.

it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 

your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 

you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 

“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”

“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“

“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.

“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“

“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 

you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 

he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 

“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”

“ahh, toji—“

“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”

“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 

“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 

“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”

“d—daddy?” 

toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”

it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 

he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 

he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—

toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 

you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 

“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”

toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 

“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 

there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 

he grunts, speeding up his movements.

“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”

you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.

toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 

“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”

you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.

toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 

“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“

“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”

you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 

toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 

“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”

he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 

you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 

once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 

toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 

“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”

you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 

fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 

toji finally addresses you. 

“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”

you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”

he smirks. 

“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”

A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated

[flowersforbucky]

oil & water

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.8k

prompt - "If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so."

shout out to @ellemj for her encouragement with this ♡

warnings/tags: SMUT, vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receving), face sitting, mentions of violence, description of blood & wounds, no use of y/n, reader is afab, hurt/comfort trope, bickering & banter, friends to lovers, forced close proximity trope. 18 plus only!

“Roll your window up,” Bucky snaps at you as he turns down the music you had just put on moments ago. “The last thing we need is someone noticing the blood caked all over the entire right side of your body.” 

As if the lack of functioning AC in the twenty-something year old getaway car (an early 2000’s model Chevy Aveo is inconspicuous, according to Sam) wasn’t stifling enough in the south Georgia summer, the annoyance radiating from the brooding super soldier sitting next to you adds an extra ten degrees. 

Sure, Sam. Inconspicuous is the right word to describe a six foot, two hundred plus pound man with a metal arm cramped behind the driver’s seat of the equivalent to a clown car. Bright fucking cherry red and all. 

“It’s 103 degrees outside.” You glare at him from the passenger seat, where you’re using a tattered handkerchief found in the glove compartment to put pressure on the knife wound on your shoulder. “I’m going to have a heatstroke.” 

“You’re not going to have a heatstroke,” he rolls his eyes at you. “That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” you say under your breath, reluctantly rolling up the manual window with your still bleeding arm. “I got the fucking intel, did I not?” 

You remove the USB drive from its secure location in the cup of your bra and flash it at Bucky. “Though we’ll be lucky if this thing still works after being drowned in boob sweat, since you won’t let me keep the window rolled down.” 

“And nearly got yourself killed in the process.” He grabs the flashdrive from you and grimaces. “We’ll be at the safehouse in less than five minutes, if you can please just refrain from stroking out or bleeding out in the meantime.” 

You glance down at the once white handkerchief clutched in your hand. “I’m not making you any guarantees.” 

You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way, you resist adding. 

Jokes aside, the energy exerted in bringing down over a dozen HYDRA agents in combination with the July heat and the substantial blood loss from your shoulder wound has you feeling woozier by the minute. Factor in a few potentially fractured ribs and a dislocated knee and you're in pretty rough shape. 

As promised, just under five minutes later Bucky parks in front of a small trailer just outside the city limits of Valdosta. It's seen better days, but you don't mind as long as it has semi-functioning air conditioning. 

Bucky is opening your car door and offering you a hand up before you can take in your surroundings. You force yourself out of your seat, ignoring his outstretched hand and attempting to stand on your own, doing your best to ignore the borderline blinding pain radiating from your right knee. 

“Thanks, but I think I can–” 

Your vision goes fuzzy as you stumble forward, right into Bucky's chest. Your hand instinctively clutches the fabric of his shirt as you attempt to regain your balance.

“Let me guess. You're capable of stitching up your own shoulder, too?” 

He gently loops his arm around your waist, slowly walking the two of you to the front door of the trailer. You try to focus on keeping pressure on the gash on your shoulder and not the feeling of his toned body pressed against you. How does he smell so good after hand to hand combat and sitting in that sauna of a car? You're sure you probably smell like a wet diaper that's been left in the sun for–

Bucky opens the door and guides you inside. The interior of the safehouse is surprisingly homey and clean. It's still uncomfortably warm, but offers a nice reprieve from the violent mid-day sun. 

Bucky leads you into the small living space before maneuvering you out of his hold, where you all but collapse onto a suede sofa.

“I guess you do have some amount of good luck, after all,” you mumble, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky glances at you from over his shoulder as he flicks on the AC. 

“That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck,” you quote his sarcastic comment from the car ride. 

“Ha-ha-ha,” he fake laughs just as you did. He rummages through a few cabinets and drawers of the small kitchen before finding everything he’s searching for, then makes his way back to where you are on the couch. 

“Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of water that you hadn't even noticed him grab. For once you don't object to his instructions, uncapping the bottle and gulping down the contents as quickly as you can. 

“You're not having a heatstroke,” he assures you. “But you are going to have to let me stitch up this crater on your shoulder and pop your knee back into place.” 

You sit forward, removing the now fully soaked cloth that you've been holding to your shoulder for the last half hour. 

Bucky winces at the sight of it, handing you a dishrag before opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “You might want to bite down on–” 

“I know the drill.” You sigh before putting the rag between your teeth. 

He hesitates for a moment before pouring the clear liquid over the wound. You groan against the rag, your eyes squint shut in pain. You've had your fair share of broken bones and black eyes working in this field, but you don't think you'll ever get used to the pain of getting stitches without the comforts of saline solution and anesthesia.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dabbing the cut dry with a paper towel. 

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “It's part of the job. I've come out of missions worse than this before,” you shrug, squeezing the dish rag he gave you until your knuckles go white as he makes the first incision. 

“Never because of me.” 

You glance at him, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. His gaze doesn't leave the thread and needle that he's using to close up the gash on your arm - his normally plump pout set into a hard line. 

“You know this isn't your fault, right?” You keep your eyes locked on him. “I saw that guy coming at you out of nowhere and I panicked. I wasn't watching my own back. That's my fault, not yours,” you say earnestly. 

“If you say so.” He glances up for a split second, giving you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes. 

“Is that why you've been such a grouch? You're blaming yourself for me not being careful enough?” 

“Maybe,” he admits quietly. “Or maybe I just hate seeing you covered in blood for any reason.” 

You freeze at the bluntness of his words. You and Bucky have been partners on more missions than you could count at this point - you know that he would have done the same for you if the situation had been reversed; in fact, there had been times where he had taken the brunt of the fight in order to protect you. 

All of those instances suddenly flash through your mind. 

The time he used himself as a human shield when there was a bomb set off during a recon mission at a warehouse in Tokyo. Or when he football tackled you out of the direct line of an incoming dagger during an operation in Portland. Not to mention the time he left a job all the way in Prague unfinished because he merely suspected you had a concussion. 

You had always chalked it up to “that’s what partners do,” but the pained expression on his face as he refuses to meet your eyes has you questioning if there could possibly be more to it. 

No. You’re his partner. He’d do the same for anyone else. He wouldn’t want to see anyone on his team covered in blood if he could prevent it. 

The two of you sit in a thick silence while he finishes stitching you up. 

“There,” he says at last, clipping the excess suture thread with scissors. “Not quite as good as your stitch work, but I think it’ll hold you together.” His voice isn’t as strained as it was moments ago, though you can't help but notice it sounds forced. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed the tiniest bit at his compliment. “Now for the really fun part,” you add, staring at your throbbing knee. 

“You’re in luck,” he says, perking up a bit. “I’ve popped my own knees back into place an embarrassing amount of times, so this should be a breeze.” He repositions himself to have better access to your leg, moving off the couch to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You attempt to pull the tight fabric of your tactical pants up enough to give him unhindered access to your knee, but it’s too restrictive, immediately causing you to wince in pain. 

“Fuck,” you huff. “I’m going to have to take these off.” You pop the button at the top of your pants and begin to push them down your thighs before insecurity can get the better of you. You try not to think about the fact that Bucky's never seen you in such little clothing - pants now pushed down to your calves, only your underwear and the bra and thin tank top you wore underneath the tactical vest that you took off as soon as you were in the safety of the getaway car left to cover you. 

Hesitation flashes across Bucky’s face for a brief moment before he scoots over slightly, moving directly in front of you so that he can position his hands on either side of your kneecap. You’re painfully aware of the polar opposite feeling of his right and left hand - his flesh hand is warm and so much softer than you’d expect, his metal one icy and smooth. You aren’t sure which causes the visible goosebumps that now litter your skin.

Maybe it’s not his touch at all. Maybe it’s the way his eyes haven’t left your thighs since you exposed them.

Maybe it’s the fact that if you parted your legs just a few inches, he’d be nestled between them. 

Chill out, you berate yourself. He's just relocating your knee for Christ's sake. 

“On the count of three,” he starts and you brace yourself. “One, two–” 

“MOTHERFUCKER.” You yell out at the same moment your knee creates a loud cracking noise that echoes off the walls of the small trailer. “You said count of three!” 

“Would that really have made it less painful?” He shrugs, but doesn't move from where his knees brush against yours. “I think what you mean to say is “thank you, Bucky, you're a lifesaver and I'm now in your debt.” 

“In your fuckin’ dreams,” you scoff. “I'm going to wash all of this blood and sweat off of me.” You move to push yourself off of the couch, tugging your pants back up as you stand. You can feel his eyes trail up your body as you do, making you feel woozy all over again. You turn away from him, heading towards the hallway that the bathroom is likely located down. 

“I could have done that through your pants, by the way.” 

You freeze mid-step, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?” You snap at him. 

“Your knee,” he clarifies, a hint of undeniable mischief in his expression. “I could have popped your knee back into place through your pants. If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so.” 

Just when you thought the safehouse was starting to cool down, your entire body heats up a thousand degrees. You're racking your brain trying to think of a retort when Bucky's ringtone starts blaring from the kitchen countertop. He ignores it, his eyes not leaving yours for what feels like an eternity. 

You finally break the silence. “That's most likely Sam wanting to make sure we're not dead. Should probably answer it.” 

“Probably should,” he smirks, and at last gets up from the coffee table to answer the phone.

You scurry the rest of the way to the bathroom before he can look back at you again, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from your ribcage and the now dull ache that spreads from your knee. 

You turn the water to cold, and don't get out until you've started to shiver. 

— — — — — 

When you exit the bathroom and step back into the connected bedroom in only a towel, you see that Bucky has done you the kindness of bringing in the bags that had been stored in the backseat of the getaway car. 

You dig through your backpack, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and pair of leggings. From the next room, you can smell the aroma of whatever non-perishable food that Bucky has scrounged together. Despite your growing hunger pains, you take your sweet time combing through your freshly rinsed hair. The thought of looking Bucky in the eye after your last interaction nearly makes you lose your appetite. 

What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn't thinking at all, otherwise I wouldn't have just pushed my fucking pants down right in front of–

“Your five course dinner is getting cold.” Bucky raps his fingers against the bedroom door, startling you from your thoughts. 

“Be right there,” you call back to him, swiping some deodorant under your arms. You take a glance at yourself in the bedroom’s small vanity mirror and immediately wish that you hadn't – you're cleaner than you were by miles, at least no longer covered in your own blood as well as the blood of HYDRA agents – but your cheekbone is lightly bruised, there's a slit on your bottom lip, and the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a month. 

You take a deep breath and then walk back to the one room that makes up the kitchen, dining area and living room. 

“Beef or shrimp ramen?” Bucky asks as you climb onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter from where he's standing. 

“Hm,” you contemplate, not meeting his stare and instead occupying yourself with another bottle of water that he's placed where you now sit. 

Fucker probably wouldn't fluster me so bad if he wasn't being so damn thoughtful.

“I'll go with shrimp,” you answer, remembering that beef is his favorite.

He slides the bowl across the counter and then hands you a fork. You finally get the nerve to look up and meet his stare that feels as if it weighs two tons. 

“So, what did Sam say?” You try to go for light conversation, twisting the fork around your noodles. “Are we free to get out of here once it's dark out?” 

“Not…quite,” he hesitates, now seeming particularly interested in his own food. “The car battery kind of died.” 

“What do you mean the car battery kind of died?” 

“While you were in the shower, I tried to move the car behind the house so that anyone driving by wouldn't immediately know that someone's here. It started fine, but as I was driving it around back it just.. stopped. Had to push it the rest of the way.” 

You let out a dramatic groan as he continues. 

“I called Sam again and he said the earliest they can send someone to get us is in the morning.” 

“Well,” you exhale, blowing a raspberry with your lips. “We can flip a coin to see who gets the bed?” You ask lightheartedly. This isn’t the first time that you and Bucky have had an overnight mission together, but it is the first overnight mission where the two of you haven’t had your own motel rooms or at least a safehouse with two beds.

He looks at you quizzically, furrowing his eyebrows. “You really think there’s a chance of me making you sleep on the couch? In your condition?” 

“My condition?” you laugh. “I’ve got a few stitches, I’m not dying of cancer.” 

“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way it’s uncomfortable for you to inhale and exhale? You’ve probably got a couple fractured ribs with the way you landed on that cement. If not fractured, then at least heavily bruised. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” 

Between his tone and the look on his face, you know it isn’t up for debate. You throw your hands up in faux surrender. 

“Serving me instant ramen and letting me take the king sized bed?” you say teasingly. “Keep it up and I'm going to think that you're soft on me.” 

His gaze on you is heavy as he takes a long sip of water from his own bottle. “Wouldn't that be a shame?” 

— — — — — 

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you lounging in bed, resting your injuries and reading some cheesy western romance novel that you found in the drawer of the bedside table. 

Bucky keeps to the living room, where you hear a violent sounding movie playing from a TV that has to be as old as you are. 

You tell yourself that you're staying in the bedroom because you need to take it easy and relax, but truthfully you feel suffocated by the tension that has been escalating between you and Bucky since you arrived here. 

A certain level of tension had always been there, you knew deep down. From the first time the two of you met almost two years ago. 

Bucky had been formally introduced to the team just a few weeks prior, and it was his first official mission. An undercover mission - just the two of you. 

Posing as an engaged couple at a party thrown at the estate of a notorious crime boss in order to obtain intel. Pretty straight forward - it was far from your first undercover mission. And then it was sprung on you at the last minute that the man who you'd only met once, less than a month ago, was to be your fiancé for the evening. 

The bastard even went as far as to slip the fake engagement ring on your finger himself. 

“Natasha picked this out. She said it needed to be a princess cut, because that's what you like.” 

You chuckled as he went to slide the rock onto your ring finger. “What? You're not going to get down on one knee?” 

The mission went shockingly smooth, you and Bucky were in and out with the needed intel in just a few hours. But those few hours replayed in the back of your mind more often than you care to admit. 

The way his arm stayed wrapped securely around your shoulder or waist the entire hour that you mingled as guests. How he pulled you into a slow dance to discuss the plan for sneaking into the study on an off-limits floor. The musky smell of his aftershave and the spearmint on his breath. 

And especially the way he referred to you as his “bride” when introducing yourselves to people, on more than one occasion throughout the night. 

“And who is this absolutely beautiful young woman on your arm?” an elderly man with eye boogers and booze on his breath asks Bucky. 

“This is my bride,” Bucky introduces you, giving him your undercover name. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Most beautiful woman here, if I do say so myself.” 

Saying that Bucky played his part well that night would have been an understatement. Saying that he played his part scarily well would be a more accurate assertion. 

After grabbing the intel and fleeing the scene, neither of you ever mentioned that mission again. Not the lingering touches, smoldering stares - not even the way he shoved you up against the wall of a corridor, cupped your face in his large hands, and kissed you senseless for half a minute when you came close to getting caught sneaking into the private office by security at the very end of the evening. 

“Do you think that was believable?” he asks nervously, his hands still clutching your face as he looks around the hallway for any lingering guards. 

“Ye-yeah,” you stutter breathily. “As believable as it possibly could be.” 

There’s a light knock on the partially open bedroom door that draws you back to the reality of the safehouse. You realize that you’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your book for the last half hour. 

"Yeah?” you answer, bringing yourself to a sitting position. 

Bucky peaks his head around the door, opening it further so that you can see what he is carrying. 

“I’m tired of watching old James Bond movies,” he sighs, glancing between you and the stack of board games in his arms. “I found these in the TV stand.” 

“I kicked your ass in Battleship last time we played,” you remind him. “Do you really want a rematch of that?” 

“How about we make a bet?”

— — — — — 

Half an hour later, you've eaten your own words, now owing Bucky a large meat lovers pizza from his favorite parlor in Brooklyn and two weeks worth of laundry duty when you return to the compound. 

“How'd you get so good?” you demand as he makes the winning attack. “You were so lame at this last time.” 

“Maybe I just let you win last time,” he shrugs with a shit-eating grin. 

You just shake your head in defeat, wincing as you stand up from where you had been playing on the shag area rug in the living room. 

“No,” you declare firmly. “No, I don't believe that. There's no way you'd willingly let me win anything. I've learned that the hard way during hand to hand combat training way too many times.”  

Bucky belly laughs from where he still sits on the floor, his gaze trailing after you. 

You walk over to where he has piled the board games on the coffee table, trying to find something you were confident you could win. 

Monopoly isn't fun with only two players, Risk takes too long — 

Your eyes lock onto a card game peeking out from underneath the Sorry! box. 

You pick it up, turning back to face him with a growing smile on your face.

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “I'm over a hundred years old–” 

“What does age have to do with truth or dare?!” You exclaim, sitting back down on the floor once more. 

“I haven't been roped into a game of truth or dare since the 1930's,” he groans. 

“Scared of what you might have to do?” You tease, unboxing the cards. “Or what you might have to admit?” 

He stares at you for a long moment, pursing his lips. The disapproval doesn't quite reach his eyes - you can tell by the way they gleam that he's going to cave. 

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits. He tousles his fingers through his hair and moves to cross his legs at the ankles. “Fine,” he relents. “One game.” 

You squeal like a kid in a candy store as you shuffle the deck of cards and lay them in a stack between you. 

“Elders first,” you motion to the pile. 

He rolls his eyes, drawing one from the top – dare. 

“Smell another player's armpit,” he deadpans. You're instantly thankful that you remembered to cram a stick of deodorant into your backpack when packing for the mission. 

“Well?” You lift up your arm. “I'm the only other player here and it's not going to sniff itself.” 

Bucky sighs, leaning across the game to put his nose directly next to the opening of your t-shirt sleeve. “Lavender,” he observes after inhaling, giving you an approving nod. “As far as dares go, I got lucky.” 

“Lucky that I showered earlier,” you mumble as you draw your turn, your cheeks warming slightly. 

Truth. 

“Who was your last kiss with and what was it like?” 

Your heart plummets to your stomach as you read the words aloud. Bucky waits impatiently as you fiddle with the piece of paper in your hands. 

“Might I remind you, you are the one who wanted to play this game so desp–” 

You hold up a finger and make a shushing sound, silencing him as he grins menacingly. 

“My last kiss was almost two years ago,” you answer honestly, looking back down at the card to avoid his stare. He can always tell when you're lying, why even try? 

“With a man I barely knew,” you continue. “We had to pretend to be in love for the evening. It was a shockingly easy thing to do. When he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me as a distraction to security guards, I had to remind myself that it was an act. We never spoke about it again. But now two years later, I'm telling him that I think of that kiss often.” 

When you finally look up, you can't decipher the look on his face. Long gone is the mischievous grin from just moments ago, in its place is.. shock? Perplexity? 

“And why exactly have you not kissed anyone else since then?” He asks quietly. 

“Nope,” you say, popping your lips on the p. “That's not how the game works, you don't get to add sub-questions.” 

His eyes don't leave yours as he draws his next card.

His turn for truth. He glances down to read his question.

“Have you ever wanted to have sex with any of the players?” 

Forget your cheeks feeling warm - your entire body feels like it's on fire as you wait for him to answer. 

He chuckles, tossing the card on top of the other two that had already been picked. 

“Every goddamn day since I kissed her almost two years ago.” 

You aren't sure which one of you snaps first. You lunge forward at the same moment that he's leaning across the splay of cards to grasp your face in his hands just like he did in that corridor two years ago. The same hint of spearmint on his breath, a bit more stubble on his jaw, and a sense of desperation that wasn't there before. 

He moves his hands to your lower back, pulling you flush against him as you both sit on your knees. Your own hands find the hem of his shirt, your fingers dancing across the skin of his waistline. 

“I asked you why you haven't kissed anyone since we last kissed,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, both of you breathless. “You don't have to answer, but that..” his mouth moves to the side of your throat where he trails open-mouth kisses across the sensitive flesh of your pulse point. 

“That's why I haven't kissed anyone else, either.” 

A pathetic, small moan escapes past your lips at his admission. In a split second decision, you take control. You place your hands across his chest, pushing him down onto the shag rug that you'd been playing games on just moments ago. He lets himself fall back, pulling you with him. 

You straddle him, positioning yourself directly on his already evident erection. You drag yourself forwards, and then backwards, desperate for friction - he groans beneath you, jutting upwards. 

The fabric of your pants between you feels like a prison. 

You scoot back a few inches - just far enough to give yourself enough room to unbutton his jeans. 

“Wait, wait,” he stops you as you're about to begin pulling down his pants and underwear. You freeze, petrified that you've crossed a line– 

“I haven't stopped thinking about having your thighs wrapped around my head since I saw them earlier,” he says as he hooks his hands around them and hauls you up to his chest. “Take these off and sit on my face.” He tugs on the waistline of your leggings. 

“If you wanted me to take my pants off for you so badly, you could have just said so,” you echo his earlier teasing. 

“I'm asking you now, sweetheart,” his voice has a strained edge to it. “Don't make me beg.” 

Though the notion of him begging has wetness pooling down your thighs, you're too eager to entertain it. 

You stand up, directly above him as he keeps his position on the floor. You shimmy your leggings down your thighs, this time completely removing them and tossing them somewhere behind you. He tugs his t-shirt over his head and throws it in the general direction of your discarded pants. 

With you still standing above him, he leans forward so that his face brushes against the inside of your thighs. He brings his hands to the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers and slowly pulling them down until they're at your ankles. 

You slip them off as he lays back down on the floor. A bit apprehensively, you sit so that your bare pussy is against his hard chest. 

“Just stop me if it's too uncomfortable or if you can't breathe or any–” 

He cuts you off by all but picking you up and hauling you up to his face.

“I wouldn't worry about that,” his voice vibrates against the flesh of your innermost thighs. He tugs you down just one more inch so that his mouth makes contact with your center. 

You gasp out in pleasure as his tongue begins exploring your folds. There's no restraint about it - he sets a brutal pace, alternating between fucking his tongue into your cunt and sucking on your clit. 

You're writhing above him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. You go to squeeze your breasts, pulling your t-shirt off when you realize it's the one clothing article you've yet to shed. 

When he realizes that you're now completely naked above him, he lets out an animalistic groan as he laps a thick lick up your center. 

The vibration, in addition to him now squeezing your ass with enough pressure that he's bound to leave behind fingertip shaped bruises, is enough to send you spiraling to your climax. 

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs around his cheeks, riding out your orgasm as he continues to wrap his lips around your throbbing clitoris. 

You go still for a moment, aside from your heaving chest, as you come back down to earth. 

You climb off of him, your jellified legs nearly causing you to collapse onto the floor next to him. 

He props himself up with one arm, looking down at you. His face is thoroughly glistening with your juices. 

You can't help but think he's never looked hotter. 

A proud grin begins to form across his features as you pull him down to you by the back of his neck. 

You kiss him with as much feverency as you can muster in your post orgasm haze, tasting the semi-sweet tang of your come on his lips and tongue. 

“It's your turn to get these off,” you demand, drawing back from the kiss to pull at the waistband of his pants. 

“Can I at least take you to the comfy bed before this goes any further?” he bargains. “You are still recovering from multiple injuries, you know.” 

“I can assure you that I've never felt better.” But you let him have his way. He stands before picking you up, lifting you so that you can wrap your legs securely around his midsection. His large hands planted firmly on your ass, he walks the short distance to the bedroom. Your nipples pebble as they press against his bare chest. 

He gently places you on top of the comforter before standing back, at last removing his jeans and boxers. His cock springs forward, slapping against his lower belly. 

Your mouth goes dry at the sight. If it had been a long time since you had been kissed, it had been even longer since you had been fucked. 

He crawls onto the bed, hovering above where you lay. You automatically open your legs to allow him between them. 

His eyes rake up and down your body, pausing on your breasts. 

"You're goddamn stunning.” 

Before you can respond, he's leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth, the sensation has you arching your back into his touch. You can feel the tip of his cock jutting against your core - teasing but not yet entering. 

He starts to line himself up at your hole, his eyes locking onto yours as he pumps himself in his hand. He brings his lips down to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth at the same moment he nudges his tip past your entrance. 

There's a blissful burn as he cautiously buries himself inside you - you're simultaneously thankful that he's going slow and needing him balls deep. He pushes in, inch by inch, until you're filled to the hilt. When he can't get any deeper, he pulls back - and slams back into you all at once. 

You swear you can feel him in your stomach. You look down at where your bodies connect, the sight of him sliding in and out of you enough to have you on the edge of climaxing again already. 

He brings his metal hand to knead your breast. 

"Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured having you under me like this?” He coos. You gyrate your hips to meet his thrusts, causing his eyes to roll back into his head. 

“How many times I've thought about what your little moans would sound like?” 

Your only answer is a gutteral moan of his name as you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into the flesh of his back. 

“Your pussy feels even more like heaven than I imagined it would.” 

His praises send you over the edge - you're coming for a second time, clenching around him as his thrusts grow messy. He fucks you through your orgasm before he loses control himself, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he spills into you. 

With you still panting and limp beneath him,  his movements gradually come to a stop but he doesn't pull out - instead he flips you to your side and maneuvers himself into a spooning position behind you. 

He peppers soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder, being careful to avoid your stitches, and relaxes beside you. 

“Remind me to dislocate my knee more often,” you joke, processing everything that just happened. 

He snorts, then tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Remind me to play truth or dare with you more often.” He captures your lips in his, this kiss slower than any of the ones before. 

“I guess it would be weird to make you do my laundry for two weeks now, huh?” He teases, earning a laugh from you.

“You do still owe me a pizza, but I'll be happy to share it with you.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

[lazysoulwriter]

protective love. - pedro pascal.

It was supposed to be a fun night, just a casual hangout with friends from the industry. Drinks flowed, laughter filled the air, and everything was lighthearted. But you? You were a little more than tipsy. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the atmosphere, or maybe it was just the warmth of the night. Whatever it was, you didn’t notice how much attention you were drawing, especially from one person.

Pedro, ever the calm and collected one, had barely touched his drink. He was the responsible one, the designated driver. But even with that extra level of sobriety, he could feel something was off as soon as he stepped into the bar. You were stunning, obviously, but tonight, you were wearing that dress. The one with the daring neckline and slit that reached up to your thigh. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew all eyes were on you—particularly from one guy, who seemed to have a little too much interest in you.

Pedro wasn’t the jealous type, not normally. He trusted you. He trusted that you'd be able to handle yourself. But tonight, something shifted in him. Maybe it was the combination of the dim lighting, the music, and the way that man’s eyes kept lingering on you. Pedro was aware of the glances, the smirks. It made his chest tighten, and before he knew it, his jaw was clenched.

You, blissfully unaware of the tension building around you, were tipsy enough to be carefree. Your laughter echoed as you chatted with a few of the other guests, until you felt someone step a little too close. Your gaze met the stranger’s, and you, in your hazy state, didn’t quite process the way his smile was a little too wide, his hands a little too eager. He leaned in, his words slurred, and it was obvious he was trying his luck.

“Come on, darling,” he whispered, “I’m sure we could have a much better time alone…”

Before you could register what was happening, the room seemed to freeze. You felt the pit of your stomach twist, but it wasn’t fear—it was more of a sudden, unexpected excitement. Because, just as things were about to escalate, your heart skipped a beat.

“Mi amor!”

There he was. Pedro. Your Pedro. You stumbled toward him, arms outstretched, your voice a little too loud in the space as you nearly collided with his chest. You giggled, burying your face into the soft fabric of his jacket. “Pedrito,” you murmured affectionately, the nickname spilling from your lips like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Pedro couldn’t help but smile, his heart melting at the sight of you—stumbling, but with that warmth in your eyes that only you could carry. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his eyes flickering up to the guy who had been eyeing you. He didn’t need to say a word. His presence alone was enough to send the message loud and clear. Don’t even try.

You giggled even more, nuzzling your face into his chest. “I missed you,” you whispered, barely coherent but completely in love with the safety of his arms around you.

Pedro’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I missed you too, mi vida,” he murmured, glancing at the guy who was now awkwardly backing away, sensing the very real threat in Pedro’s gaze.

“Let’s get you home, sí?” Pedro said, his tone soft but commanding. You nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to how tense the situation had just been, and without a second thought, you linked your arm with his, almost tripping over your heels as he steadied you.

As you all headed out of the bar, Pedro couldn’t help but smile to himself, shaking his head. “No one gets to have you but me, cariño,” he whispered under his breath, his hand firmly around yours.

You looked up at him with sleepy eyes, smiling innocently. “I’m yours, Pedrito,” you said, and the way your words wrapped around him made his heart swell. “No one else could ever have me.”

“Good,” he murmured with a grin. “Let’s keep it that way.”

And as he helped you into the car, his hand never left your waist. Because tonight, something had changed. Tonight, Pedro had realized just how much he was willing to fight for you, even if it was just with a look.

But deep down, he knew the one thing that would always stand between you and anyone else wasn’t his jealousy—it was the way you called him “Mi amor” every time, and how that alone made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⤷ eijirou kirishima x reader

⤷ friends to lovers, kiri implied to be taller than reader, inspired the song “look after you” by the fray

compassion is second nature to eijirou kirishima. he’s always willing to lend a helping hand, no protest and no questions asked. 

he’s the ‘bro’ friend, the big-brother of the group standing over you all like a shield. they don’t call him the sturdy hero for nothing. 

he’s saved your life plenty of times, common in your line of work. but most often the things kirishima saves you from aren’t as big as falling buildings or supervillains. 

he always carries an extra hoodie for you in case you get cold. he makes sure everyone drinks water on the weekend group hikes. he always, always offers to share his snacks and insists even when you refuse. 

he texts you to make sure you got home safe, even when he’s the one who drove or walked you. 

for god’s sake, this is the man that sprinted two blocks to a corner store to buy tweezers when you got a splinter one time a few years ago. 

you wonder sometimes how a heart as big as his even fits in his broad chest. 

every other weekend bakugou insists on dragging everyone out for a hike because he can’t catch up with you all over dinner like a normal person and needs to do something active. 

today’s hike had taken longer than you’d originally thought. bakugou got a little too ambitious with his destination, and then mina and denki had wandered off the trail, and then sero twisted his ankle chasing after them. 

it’s nighttime now, and everyone’s been dropped off. you’re the last stop, sitting in the passenger seat of eijirou’s car and wondering how long you can linger without it being weird. 

you sigh after a long moment of sitting in peaceful silence with the faint radio music, finally moving to get out of the car. 

“night, kiri,” you say in the voice of someone who really doesn’t want to say goodnight. 

he moves when you move, clambering out of the drivers seat with a little smile. “i’ll walk you up.”

you stop, meeting his big crimson eyes. “it’s a ten foot walk to the door.”

“yeah.”

“you could just watch me from here, y’know?”

he shrugs, coming around to your side of the car. “‘s no big deal.”

you can feel the warmth coming off his body from when he’s standing next to you. you’re staring up at him curiously, and he blinks down at you. 

“i can see your breath,” he chuckles, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around you loosely while you stand there, stunned. his hands linger on the fabric, warm on your shoulders as he beams down at you. 

“eiji, don’t you ever get tired of looking after everyone?” you ask after a minute, walking up to the door at his side. 

kirishima hums thoughtfully, thinking on it for a second. “i mean, maybe sometimes i guess? but not really, ‘cause i look after the people i care about. so it’s not really work for me, y’know?”

“but don’t you ever want someone to look after you?” you’re at the door now, but you don’t want to go inside just yet. 

“you do,” he replies with a little smile, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you blink, stunned by the revelation.

“you always check up on me. text me good morning and good night. make sure i rest when i’ve been working too hard. carpool front seat so i don’t have to drive alone in the night.” he’s ticking them off on his fingers, an indescribable fondness in his voice. “and besides,” he adds cheerfully, “seeing you happy always has me feeling brand-new.”

you stare up at him with big, soft eyes. “kirishima, i love you.”

he laughs bashfully, scratching at his neck. “yeah, man, i love you too.”

“no, eiji, like i love you.”

he looks at you, meeting your loving gaze. his cheeks darken, and he looks almost nervous. “you…you do?”

you don’t dignify him with a spoken answer. you try to put any words you might’ve strung together into the kiss you pull him in for, clutching at his jacket to bring him down. 

he almost gasps into your mouth, but after a moment he’s cradling your face in big, careful hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. 

he’s grinning when you pull away, eyes like melting rubies. “i love you, too. but i think maybe you knew that already.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/anitalenia — one hug from kirishima could fix all my problems. no further comments.

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.3 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has THREE parts (or more?) summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』 『 part 2 』 『 part 3 』 『 part 4 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

To say that things were complicated after that day was an understatement. On the night of the game you and Bucky had to wait for everyone to leave and for Andy to go to bed, before he could sneak you out of the house - at the end of the ride you had to force yourselves off of each other, or the night would become a lot longer than intended.

You had kept in constant contact, yearning to repeat what had happened the day (and night) of the game. If the day had more hours, and if the week had more days, you would've spent even that extra time messaging each other, as it appeared that the twenty-four hours of contact were (seemingly) not enough.

Bucky didn't tell you, obviously, but he was afraid that you'd stop showing interest right after, due to his age - he considered the possibility of being an experiment to you. On the other hand, you had also considered that he had only wanted you as a trophy, the young piece of ass that he'd tell his friends about. However, as time passed and as messages were exchanged, it was clear to the both of you that your worries were nothing but mere fiction made up by your overthinking.

You: lazy day today...

Mr. Barnes: does that mean I'm not getting a pic of one those cute little outfits you like to wear?

You: 1 attachment

You: this is the only outfit I'm wearing today, good enough? 😇

"Fuck..." Bucky muttered, and licked his lips as he looked at the image you had sent him.

The t-shirt was loose, but you were laying on your back so your curves and your nipples were very distinguishable. You had purposefully pulled it up, so your panties peeked from underneath the fabric, teasing him purposefully.

Something within him flared up, all the while you stared at the phone, anxiously awaiting his reply. You saw the text go from sent, to delivered, to seen, to... ignored?

You frowned, he had never taken that long to respond... You thought the both of you were "in a mood", but apparently you were wrong. Minutes went by and there was still no response, and suddenly you wondered if you had done something wrong.

The sound of the doorbell echoed in your place, bringing you back to reality. You were confused, you hadn't ordered anything, and you weren't expecting anyone, it was also quite late, which definitely raised an alarm.

You quietly walked to the door and looked through the peephole. Your eyes widened as you realized that, on the other side of the door, stood none other than James Barnes, he looked angry... no, desperate.

You swung the door open and, before you could say a word, Bucky cupped one of your cheeks and the other hand gripped your waist, pushing you against the wall as he closed the door with his foot. His lips smashed against yours, devouring you in a hungry kiss while his shameless hand travelled to your ass and gripped it harshly, bringing your hips forward. You could feel the outline of his hardened cock pressing against your hip, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped into the kiss.

"How are you here? I texted you like... ten minutes ago. You live twenty minutes away." You asked, looking at him through half lidded eyes as you caressed his cheek.

"My foot was on the floor with that gas pedal."

You leaned your head against the wall and laughed, giving him an opening to kiss and bite your neck.

"You risked getting pulled over just to come here quickly?"

"It was an urgent matter..." The man rolled his hips against you as he spoke, fully letting you feel his boner. "This time..." he paused, biting your neck in the middle of the sentence "there's no one around, so I want to hear you call my name real loud."

A string of cures left your lips as you grabbed his hand and hurriedly dragged him into your bedroom.

Bucky was quick to throw you onto your bed, discarding of his shirt and working on his jeans as he hovered over you. His impatience was clear, he didn't even remove your panties, the man simply pulled them to the side as he slid into you with ease.

Your moans and his grunts were muffled out by the hungry kiss you two shared. Your legs wrapped around his waist, giving Bucky a better angle to thrust deeper into you.

"Y-you feel so good!" You moaned, fueling Bucky to fuck you even harder.

He gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it off of you, so that he could see your tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips. The man gripped and squeezed every inch of your body, seemingly hypnotized by the way you looked when being fucked by him.

"I'm not lasting long, sweetheart." Bucky admitted.

"C-cum in me."

Those three words alone nearly had him climaxing, your pretty voice saying those dirty words for him, as your pretty eyes looked at him with that little sparkle in them... It took real commitment not to spill inside of you that very second.

"You're sure, baby?"

You could only nod and, before long, his hips snapped against yours in one final thrust, and his cock twitched inside of you, filling you with his cum. Bucky bent over, and kissed you slowly to drown out his groans.

"That's it, take it all in..." He paused, and kissed your temple. "Good girl..."

Once he was done, Bucky was careful when pulling out. He laid beside you, placing several kisses to your temple.

"You okay?"

You looked at him and nodded. Bucky looked back at you, with adoration plastered on his face. You were a grown adult, but the expression on your face when you stared at him was simply too cute, too much to bear, he wanted to hold onto you forever.

"I will wash up and get us some water, okay?" You said, brushing stray strands of hair away from his face.

Bucky nodded and slapped your ass as you walked away, earning a small shriek in return.

A couple minutes later, his phone vibrated on the pocket of his jeans that were lying somewhere on the floor. Bucky cursed and rummaged through the clothes until he found the device, picking up without looking at the caller ID.

"Dad? Where are you? I just got home and you're nowhere, I tried calling you like, three times. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I left home like forty minutes ago." Bucky clarified with a sigh - sometimes he felt like the child.

"Where are you?"

Just as the man was about to answer and give some shitty excuse, your voice echoed in the house.

"Hey Bucky, do you want a beer instead or-" You stopped in your tracks when you walked into the room and saw Bucky sitting there, with wide eyes and his phone to his ear.

"Dad? Who was that? Oh my God are you on a date?!" The boy asked, with a teasing tone.

"No, Andy, I'm not on a date, see you later, okay?" Bucky responded, making sure to say his name so that you'd understand who it was on the other side.

"Sure dad, see you."

You sat beside him on the bed, giving him the beer you had brought for him.

"Do you think he recognized my voice?" You asked as you bit your lip, suddenly feeling uneasy and nervous.

"No, he would've given me Hell on the phone if he had. But it is kind of late, I should head back." The man said, placing a kiss to your lips, as he got ready to stand up.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him. He looked at you as you pressed your lips together and averted your gaze - you were clearly itching to ask something, but you were too nervous.

"What?" He asked with a chuckle and a small smile, knowing very well what you were going to question next.

"No need to head back... It's so late, why don't you spend the night?"

Bucky kissed your lips softly, and then kissed you a little deeper, just enough so you could taste the alcohol on his tongue.

"I thought you were gonna make me do the walk of shame."

Bucky strolled into his house with a small smile, as he thought of you, of your body, and of the time you had spent together. It was hard to conceal how happy you made him, and the man didn't try hard to hide it either.

The second the front door closed, a curious Andy came in the room.

"Hey dad, where did you spend the night, hm?" The boy asked teasingly, hinting at the feminine voice he had heard on the phone.

The dad chuckled, and the spark in his eye instantly died down as he remembered that you were his son's crush and he had just spent the night fucking you.

"No one." Bucky responded simply, throwing his phone and keys onto the table.

"Come on dad, I'm not going to be mad! You and mom have been divorced long enough, I knew it was going to happen eventually." The boy insisted, in a whiny voice, as he followed his dad up the stairs.

Little did Andy know, but he definitely would care.

"You're being a pain in the ass, kid." Bucky warned, evading the question once more.

Before Andy could say anything else, the man walked into the bathroom and shut the door, creating a physical barrier between the two of them, hoping that Andy would stop pushing him for answers on such an uncomfortable matter.

As Bucky walked down the stairs after his shower, in search for his phone, he understood why there had been a deafening silence in the house for so long.

His son stood in the middle of the hallway, holding Bucky's phone. The man couldn't see what he had opened, but once Andy lifted his head, with red, tear-stained eyes, it was pretty clear.

"You're fucking Y/N?..." He asked, with a faint, shaky voice, but it wasn't really a question.

Bucky's mouth opened, but closed right after, as he had no idea what to say.

"You're fucking Y/N?!" Andy repeated, now yelling.

The tears streaming down his face were those of sadness, anger and frustration - he couldn't comprehend what was happening, and he was unable to assimilate that it was real life, surely it had to be a dream, a nightmare. His face was contorted in hate and betrayal, and the whole situation made him feel so, so small.

"Andy, I'm sorry..." That was the only thing Bucky could muster the courage to say.

"Are you!? Are you really!? 'Cause you didn't seem sorry at all when you were coming in the house! You knew I fucking liked her, I told you!"

The man opened his mouth to say something, but Andy was quicker.

"I don't wanna hear whatever bullshit excuse you're going to make up to make yourself feel better."

Andy dropped his dad's phone on the floor with force and dashed out of the door.

Bucky stood there, all of what he had done hitting him like a brick wall. Soon after, he heard the tires of Andy's car screeching as he sped down the street.

Fuck.

"You're fucking my dad?!"

It felt as if your world had crumbled around you. You had been startled by someone banging on your door, and, when you opened the door to find Andy in his disheveled state you didn't expect that to come out of his mouth.

"H-how..."

"I saw it. On his phone."

"Oh..."

"That's all you have to say!? 'Oh'!?" Andy yelled, his whole body was shaking and his face was red, there was not a single negative emotion he had not been feeling.

It was all you could say, it was all that your dry, aching throat would allow you to utter. Your body was shaking too, but your legs were frozen in the spot.

"How fucking could you?! You have to have known that I fucking liked you! And I invite you to my house and what, you fuck my dad?! What the fuck is wrong with you!" By the end of his speech, Andy was laughing, out of anger and anxiousness, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, at how he had been played.

"I-I didn't! Andy I swear that I didn't know you liked me!" You shrieked back, but it sounded more like a plea than anything.

"You're a fucking liar!" He yelled, pointing his index finger at you.

"Andy I liked you! I liked you too but..." You confessed, holding your palms in front of your chest, as if protecting yourself from him.

You couldn't finish your sentence, but you didn't need to, Andy understood.

"You liked me?..." The boy asked.

His voice had become soft, as if he had realized, just then, that he had had the opportunity he wanted and had lost it, to his dad.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Andy repeated, his voice harsher and louder.

As he stepped forward towards you, you stepped backwards, until your back was against the wall. Andy towered over you, staring down into your eyes with anger and disgust.

"I-I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry... But after I met Buck- your dad, I... I'm sorry."

You averted your gaze and stumbled on your words, nothing you said made sense and you couldn't bring yourself to make a full sentence.

Suddenly, Andy was pushed away from you by something, and, when you looked in his direction, you saw Bucky behind him, with a stern, rigid expression. The man had pulled his son back by the arm and kept a strong grip on it, preventing Andy from going up to you again.

"Not at her. You don't yell at her like that, and you especially don't treat her like that." The man told his son.

"Oh, aren't you the cutest couple." Andy retorted, in a snarky and ironic voice, while trying to escape his dad's grip.

"Don't be a fucking idiot, I've taught you better than to yell at women. You want to be angry then be angry at me. I fucked up. I knew about it, she didn't, so you want to get up in someone's face, get up in mine." Bucky snarled.

It was weird, he felt intense guilt for betraying his son's trust in such a vulnerable way, but at the same time his stomach churned and his face burned when he saw his son treat you like that.

Andy looked up at his dad and, knowing it was a fight he wasn't going to win, violently shook his dad's hand off of his arm.

"See you at home, dad." He said, and left, slamming your front door as loudly as he could.

Once the silence had settled in, and once your mind processed what had happened, you dropped to your knees. Your chest heaved up and down quickly and tears flowed down your face incessantly, the droplets forming a polka-dot pattern on the floor beneath you.

Bucky said nothing, he simply knelt beside you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards his chest.

"Sh... It's fine..." He told you softly, as one of his hands caressed your face and the other caressed your hair.

You had no idea how long you had stayed on the floor crying against Bucky's chest, but the man had not attempted to get up even once. He stayed there, holding you and whispering sweet words until you had calmed down. He waited for you to shower and made you some tea (after opening and closing nearly every cabinet in your kitchen).

"So... Y/N..." He started, with a sigh, breaking the seemingly never-ending silence, as he sat across from you "I think we should stop whatever we have going on."

Bucky was met with silence and a blank expression.

"What?"

You had to have heard it wrong, there was no way the two of you had risked so much for him to end things like that.

"I don't think this is a good idea Y/N... I-I have already hurt my son, and I can't sacrifice my relationship with my son like this-"

You stood up abruptly, accidentally knocking over the tea he had made you.

"You're a coward!" You snapped, shooting daggers at him with your eyes.

Bucky stood up carefully, he was now the one locked in a cage with a wolf, as it seemed.

"Y/N, please don't make this harder than it has to be..." The man stepped towards you and tried to grab your hands, but you moved them away.

"Coward! Asshole! I was just a piece of ass to you, wasn't I?! The second trouble came your way you didn't even hesitate to throw me to the curb!" You yelled, smacking his chest.

Bucky's jaw tightened and he tried to make you stop once more, he tried to calm you down, but to no avail.

"You were not just a piece of ass Y/N, you know it, but I can't do it if I'm hurting-"

You continued on smacking his chest, while crying and cursing at him - you didn't want to listen to whatever he was saying. Bucky was older than you, but he wasn't made of iron and his heart wasn't made of stone, your words and actions had hurt him just as much as his confession had hurt you.

"This is what I get for fucking around with kids." Bucky mumbled angrily under his breath, his jaw still clenched.

You stopped everything and slowly lifted your eyes to meet his gaze. You were enraged, disappointed and hurt, but his eyes... The emotions were far too vast, sorrow, regret, hurt...

You stepped closer and looked deep into his eyes.

"I wasn't a kid when you were fucking me earlier today." You spat.

Bucky had had enough. He finally grabbed your hands and pushed you against the wall of the kitchen, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand.

Neither of you said anything, and both of you refused to break the intense eye contact.

It happened quickly, like a flash of light, but your lips were brought together by the tension and your hands roamed each other's bodies like wild animals. Moans, groans and curses echoed in the air as the the two of you made out against the wall.

The man picked you up with ease and swung you over his shoulder, spanking you ass several times on your way to the bedroom. When he dropped you on your bed, your body had not finished bouncing on the mattress and he had already jumped on top of you.

Your hands fidgeted with the button and the zipper of his jeans, while his fingers gripped the waistband of your shorts and of your panties, pulling them off your body in one harsh pull. The man pulled away for a second, to fully remove his pants, and to strip from his shirt, before removing your shirt with haste and attaching his lips to your neck. He stained your skin with bites that would leave a mark for certain, a small, dirty trail that followed from your neck down to your chest.

As one of his hands played with one of your nipples, his mouth attached to the other, roughly sucking on it, and giving it playful bites. Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging on it from time to time.

A long, strained moan was ripped from your throat as his fingers found your pussy, his index and middle finger slowly entering you as his thumb circled your clit. The man's lips pulled away from your tits, so that he could watch your face as his fingers fucked you.

The pace quickened at a steady pace, and he watched your pleasure-struck expression with a shit-eating grin.

"You like it, sweetheart?" He asked, bending over so he could whisper in your ear and bite your earlobe "Do you like it when I make you feel good, hm?"

"Y-yes sir." You moaned out.

Suddenly, Bucky removed his fingers entirely, licking them clean right in front of your face before gripping your neck with his hand, applying just enough pressure.

"Now, what did I say about calling me sir?" The man asked, with a glint in his eye, glad to have something to punish you about.

"S-sorry-"

"Too late, sweetheart."

Bucky flipped you around on the mattress, and pulled your hips up, so you'd be on all fours. He knelt behind you, so that his hips would be lined up with your ass, and slowly inserted himself into you, groaning as he felt your walls tightened around him. It felt heavenly, to be filled by him and to be wrapped around by you.

His hips snapped against yours at a fast, rough pace right from the start. The man's hands made a makeshift ponytail with your hair and he tugged on it from time to time, as if punishing you for talking back to him.

"Who's fucking you this good? Hm?"

"Y-you!" You yelled.

His free hand spanked your ass a couple of times.

"Who are you a whore for, pretty girl?"

"You!"

Spank.

"Say my name!"

"F-fuck! You Bucky! You fuck me so well- shit!" You cursed as you could feel the familiar knot forming on your stomach.

You arms gave in and your back arched, allowing for Bucky to somehow hit a better spot in you. With a cry for his name, and a string of undecipherable curses, you came.

The way his name left your lips made Bucky climax instantly, filling you up with his cum as he praised you.

As you both came down from your high, the man bent over and kissed your shoulder blades, before pulling out.

"You did really good, sweetheart." He whispered, before slowly flipping you around and pulling you towards him.

As you laid on his chest, Bucky played with your hair, sharing a minute of silence while the two of you caught your breaths.

"So... Is this goodbye?" You said, unwilling to meet his eye.

"It can't be..." The man admitted.

After that confession, you slowly looked up at him. His face was unreadable, the emotions were far too many to be able to decipher just one.

"Then why would you say that... earlier."

Bucky pressed his lips together and sighed. He didn't know how you had done it, but you snuck into his heart and tripled its size. Bucky found himself thinking of you day and night, you made him feel things he hadn't felt in a long time.

"It seemed like the best option- the only option. I mean fuck, my son likes you, and here I am with you. And it's selfish but..." He paused and sighed once more, unsure if he should speak his mind "This has already been done, I've already hurt my son, unfortunately. All I can do is ask for forgiveness, but if I stopped seeing you... Then three people would end up being hurt."

You squeezed Bucky tightly - you hadn't known him for long, but you could tell that it was hard for him to be selfish, to act in his own interest instead of putting everyone else before him.

"We'll figure this out..."

"minors dni" banner credit - @cafekitsune taglist: @bookofriverr ; @starfly-nicole @deafening-roar-of-angry-students

[levandright]

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — giftsꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn! reader ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ extra extra soft fluff, established relationship, non-idol au, just enha spoiling you with gifts <3 ꕀ word count : 1,637 ʬʬ go back to the start? ・ archive ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : i wrote the whole thing with good thing by nct 127 on repeat and i think it did something to my brain. after making this i now want someone to gift like the boys do- cause the hell man :(( i envy their relationship its so cute T-T (i literally wrote this) thx for proofreading and editing this again twin <3 (gotta make sure twin gets their recognition)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 - plushies

you come home to find a familiar pink gift bag sitting on your bed, decorated with little hearts and a note in heesung’s handwriting: “a little something for your collection—hope they make you smile! - hee”

excitedly, you peek inside, immediately spotting the cute sanrio tags and soft pastel colors. you pull out not one, but three adorable plushies—my melody, cinnamoroll, and hello kitty, each one perfectly cuddly and looking up at you with their iconic smiles.

just as you’re hugging my melody close, heesung steps into the room, a shy grin on his face as he watches your reaction. “i couldn’t decide on one,” he admits, scratching his head. “so i figured… why not get them all?”

you can’t stop smiling as you place the plushies carefully among the others on your shelf, each one finding its perfect spot. “they’re perfect,” you say, turning to give him a grateful hug. “you know me so well.”

he chuckles, returning the hug. “i love seeing your face light up every time. besides your collection wouldn’t be complete without the whole sanrio squad, right?”

with a laugh, you look back at the shelf, feeling warm inside. thanks to heesung your little plushie family just got a lot bigger.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 - clothes

you’re scrolling through your phone when you get a text from jay: “check your doorstep!”

curious, you open the door to find a large shopping bag sitting outside. you bring it inside, already knowing who it’s from. as you pull out one dress after another—soft fabrics in different colors, some with delicate lace, others with simple elegance—you can’t help but laugh, imagining jay going through the store and picking each one out.

a moment later, he shows up at your door, grinning like he’s just won a prize. “so, what do you think? i couldn’t decide on just one, so i got you…options,” he says with a wink.

“options?” you tease, holding up a deep blue dress. “jay, you bought out the whole store!”

he shrugs, unbothered. “i just wanted you to have the best. besides, i know you have that event coming up, and i wanted you to feel amazing.”

you shake your head, touched. “you’re too much, you know that?”

he grins, gently nudging you toward the mirror. “go try one on, just to see how perfect you look.”

with a smile, you head to change, grateful for his thoughtfulness and the joy he finds in seeing you happy.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 - perfume

you’re sitting on your bed, flipping through a magazine, when you hear a light knock on your door. “hey, can I come in?” jake’s familliar voice calls out from the other side.

“sure!” you reply, setting the magazine aside. as he steps in, you notice he’s holding a beautifully wrapped box, the corners tied with a silky ribbon.

“what’s this?” you asked curiously.

jake grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “open it and see!”

you carefully unwrap the box, revealing a stunning bottle of your favorite perfume, the one you always rave about. the familiar shape of the bottle brings an instant smile to your face. “jake! you remembered!”

“of course i did! i always remember,” he says, pride evident in his voice. “i figured it was time to restock your collection. i know how much you love this scent.”

you get up and give him a warm hug, breathing in the comforting mix of his cologne and the fresh scent of the perfume. “you always know how to make me happy. thank you!”

he chuckles, pulling back to look at you. “i just want to make sure you never run out. you wear it so well.”

you shake your head in delight, placing the perfume on your vanity. “i’ll always think of you when I wear it,” you say, feeling grateful for his thoughtful gesture.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 - chocolate

you’re at your desk, sorting through some papers, when you notice a familiar small box tucked beside your things. smiling, you pick it up and read the note stuck on top: “just because. - sunghoon.”

opening it, you’re greeted by the rich aroma of chocolate—a collection of your favorite flavors. dark, milk, hazelnut-filled, and even a few fruit-infused truffles.

it’s the third time this week sunghoon has surprised you with chocolate, each box seemingly chosen with extra care.

later, as you’re enjoying a piece, sunghoon walks in, catching you mid-bite.

“caught you!” he teases, grinning as he leans against the doorframe. “how’s today’s selection of sweets?”

you laugh, holding up the chocolate box. “perfect as always. i still don’t know how you manage to get these here without me noticing.”

he shrugs, looking pleased. “i have my ways,” he says, pretending to be mysterious. then, with a softer smile, he adds, “i just like knowing that you’re never without a little something sweet.”

you smile, feeling warmth spread through you. “well, thanks to you my lovely boyfriend, i’ve never been happier—or more stocked on chocolate.”

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 - jewelry

one quiet afternoon, sunoo shows up at your door with a mysterious grin and a small, velvet box in his hand.

“what’s that?” you ask, your curiosity piqued as he invites himself in and settles onto the couch beside you.

he just smiles, handing you the box without a word. inside, nestled against the satin, is a delicate silver bracelet, adorned with a tiny charm shaped like a star. your eyes widen in surprise as you look up at him. “sunoo, it’s beautiful! you didn’t have to…”

but he’s already lifting his wrist to show you a matching bracelet around his own. “it’s not just for you,” he says, looking at you with a gentle smile. “it’s for us. i found these and thought it would be a nice reminder… something we can both wear.”

a warm blush creeps onto your cheeks as you turn the bracelet over in your hand. “it’s perfect. thank you, sunoo.”

he beams, taking the bracelet from you and gently fastening it around your wrist. “now, every time you see it, you’ll know we’re connected—even if we’re not together.”

you reach out, holding his hand, and squeeze it. “i love it, really. but i love you more.”

he laughs, giving your hand a playful squeeze back. “good, because that’s the part of the gift i’m hoping you’ll keep forever.”

you both sit there, admiring your matching bracelets, feeling closer than ever as the sunlight filters through the room, casting a gentle glow over both of you.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 - flowers

the soft chime of the doorbell echoes through the house, pulling you from your cozy spot on the couch. you rise, curious about who could be at the door. as you open it, a burst of color greets you: jungwon stands there with a bright bouquet of flowers in hand, a broad smile stretching across his face.

“surprise!” he exclaims, presenting the bouquet like a trophy. the flowers are vibrant, a mix of sunflowers, daisies, and wildflowers, their sweet scent filling the air.

your eyes widen, and a smile blooms on your face. “oh, jungwon! they’re beautiful!” you reach out to take them, feeling the warmth of his enthusiasm radiate towards you.

“i thought you could use a little brightness today,” he says, stepping inside. “i know you’ve been busy with work and school, so i wanted to remind you that you’re doing an amazing job.”

you feel a swell of gratitude as you breathe in the flowers’ fresh scent. “you always know how to make my day better,” you reply, feeling the weight of your stress start to lift.

“i just love seeing that smile on your face,” he says, his voice sincere. “you deserve to be reminded how wonderful you are.”

as you arrange the flowers in a vase, jungwon leans against the counter, watching you with a soft smile. “every time you look at them, i want you to remember that you’re loved, no matter how tough things get.”

you glance back at him, your heart warming at his words. “thank you, jungwon . this really means a lot to me.”

he steps closer, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you know i’ll always be here for you, right? just like these flowers, i’ll always try to bring a little color into your life.”

you lean into him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “i’m so lucky to have you.”

he kisses your temple gently, and you close your eyes, savoring the moment. with jungwon by your side and flowers brightening the room, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you’ll face them with a smile.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 - sunglasses

riki practically skips over to you, a mischievous grin plastered across his face and his hands hidden behind his back. you give him a curious look, and he finally reveals what he’s holding: two pairs of sunglasses, both sleek and stylish with tinted lenses.

“tada~ matching sunglasses,” he announces proudly, handing you one of the pairs. “i figured it was time to make you as cool as me.”

you laugh, slipping them on. “so, does this mean i get honorary 'riki’s fashion sidekick' status now?”

he nods, adjusting his own sunglasses as he strikes a dramatic pose. “absolutely. now we can both look this good,” he teases, winking at you from behind the lenses.

the two of you step out into the sunlight, instantly feeling like the coolest duo around. you both take turns posing, doing mock runway walks and playfully pointing at each other like you’re celebrities. riki laughs every time you strike a ridiculous pose, clutching his sides with giggles.

eventually, you both settle down, leaning against a wall, still wearing the shades and smiling widely at each other. “i think we should make this our thing,” riki says, nudging you. “matching sunglasses, everywhere we go.”

you nod, grinning. “agreed. it’s our official look.”

perm taglist. @honeychocos @kozumesphone @manaah02 (open)

wyll taglist. @lilly-cherry7 (comment or ask to be added)

©levandright

[zevrra]

[—𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ]

synop: you and vik have a little too much to drink and decide it’s a perfect night to appreciate jayce and everything he does.

wc: 1.8k

includes: gn!reader, smüt, mdni, 21(+), established relationship, jayvik x reader, oräl (m receiving), jayce is pathetic, 3some, reader & vik top jayce, jayce is just really obedient tbh, lil bit of edging, mentions of drinking/being drunk

extra(s): part 2 is here!

oh you should not have had that last drink. or the last two.

jayce had invited you and viktor to one of the council parties he regularly attended alone but this time he had begged for you both to join him. which ended up with just you and viktor standing off in the corner, away from the crowds, chugging their frilly and expensive alcohol, while jayce mingled about; doing his regular golden boy activities. and when he finally made it back to the two of you after his schmoozing, you and viktor were both giggling, drunk messes.

jayce knew better about how things would end with both of you drunk. so he had said his goodbyes before dragging the two of you out of the venue the second upon finding you, heading in the direction of home. but when you had made one too many stops, demanding to touch every animal you came across; while viktor argued with no one, refusing to budge, about some scientific thing you couldn’t distinguish, jayce had had enough and unceremoniously picked you both up and actually carried your asses all the way home, over his shoulder.

when jayce finally got you both home, he takes you both straight to the bedroom. he sits you down on the bed and tells you not to move; he was going to get you both some much needed water.

“ugh, jayce is just so…” you mutter, watching the large man leave the bedroom and disappear down the hall.

“charming? perfect?” viktor chimes in as he sits on the edge of the bed where he had been put down by jayce, hand brushing through his brown hair.

you chuckle alongside vik, nodding your head in agreement. “mhm, all of the above but he should relaaaax tonight.” you respond falling back onto the large bed with a poof. the sheets were comforting and cool, if it had been any other night you might’ve just fallen asleep right then and there but you refused to do so; not tonight.

you gasp with the idea tumbling through the fog in your drunken brain, sitting up quickly next to vik. “i know what we should do!” you exclaim before leaning over to whisper your plan in vik’s ear.

when jayce returns to the bedroom he’s holding two glasses of water as promised, standing right in front of you and viktor before handing a cup to you and the other to viktor. you share a look with vik, the two of you trying to stifle a few knowing giggles while bringing the cup to your lips. you take a few much needed sips of water before by “accident” the cup wobbles, spilling water down the front of your outfit.

“oh noooo…” you sigh as jayce gently takes the cup away from your grasp in fear of you spilling anything else, setting it down on a nearby table. “guess you’ll just have to take it off for me.” you hum, lifting your arms up into the air.

jayce rolls his eyes, as if he didn’t know what you were trying to do, but does as you tell him too anyway. his fingers gently grab your top and he lifts it with ease over your head. “okay, okay. you two need to rest now.”

“jayce…you’re always so kind and always take good care of us.” you hum as your fingers trail along the hem of jayce’s pants, digging gently into the fabric and giving it a stiff tug.

“so let us return that favor.” viktor adds with his own devious smile.

jayce upon realizing the hint the two of you have dropped, blushes a brilliant bright red; even to the tips of his ears. he slides a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, or maybe it’s his excitement, as he mulls over the idea. “how do you two have so much energy…” he finally mumbles, glancing between the two of you with his pretty hazel eyes, having already made up his mind.

viktor follows your hand and together, somehow, you manage to unbuckle jayce’s pants. he shrugs them off to make it a little easier for the two of you to continue. you find yourself running a hand up his thigh, sliding it along his warm skin, before moving a hand to squeeze the front of his boxers. viktor kisses along your shoulder as his own hand follows along yours, pressing right up against the front of his pants, tangling with your own fingers. jayce sighs at the welcoming touch as he watches the scene unfold before him. and while a little voice in the back of his head tells him that maybe this isn’t the best idea for his drunk lovers; the growing need in his lower half wins him over in the end. as if there was any competition between the two in the first place.

it doesn’t take long before jayce is breathless and fully hard. his chest flushed red to match his face while you and vik fall into a nice, rhythmic pace of groping the front of his boxers until he’s practically begging for the two of you to; ‘quit teasing’.

the drunk duo share a laugh as your hand finds itself running up along the edge of jay’s lower abdomen, following along the muscle he bears like a sailor following a map. relishing in the way jayce sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers move down his happy trail before hooking around the edge of his underwear. and with vik’s help, you manage to strip jayce of his boxers; finally.

and by god does the sight of jayce’s hard cock sober you up real fast. your mouth waters at the sight as your fingers slowly wrap around his shaft and you give him a slow tug. you hum sweetly at the low groan jayce makes, licking your lips at the sight of his flushed face. you lean forward to press a kiss into his tip, trailing your lips down along his shaft while giving him another stroke.

“you’re too damn tall…” vik grumbles, annoyed with the fact that if he wanted to help he might end up on his knees; and there was no way he was going to do that.

you couldn’t blame him, you didn’t want to get on your knees either.

“i agree. go lay down, pretty boy.” you instruct as you retrieve your hand to gesture somewhere behind you.

jayce rolls his eyes at the silly demand but he’s going to do it anyway. he, almost shyly, shuffles to the top of the bed; where he lays down, settling back against the countless of pillows. you and viktor crawl your way up to his side, descending upon him like wild, starving animals. where viktor takes his right while you take his left, hands grasping at his thighs, parting his legs to fit you both. one of vik’s hands wraps around the base of jayce’s cock before his thin fingers move up onto his tip. while vik begins to jerk jayce off, you kiss along jayce’s thighs and stomach. planting kisses all over his lower half that you could reach, teasing him as vik’s hand moves swiftly along his shaft. jayce groans, biting his bottom lip as vik uses his fingers to draw out any precum he can from jayce’s head. he uses a mix of precum and spit to slick the entirety of his shaft.

you push whatever hair you can out of the way before your lips find the tip of his awaiting cock. you suck gently on his head, vik’s hand continues to work on stroking up where he can before meeting your lips; until he replaces his fingers with his own tongue. you tease the tip of jayce’s cock with your tongue, pressing it flat against the underside of his head, loving the way the big boy sucks in a sharp breath in the midst of his pleasure. you slip your mouth of his head as viktor’s lips meet yours. you kiss him drunkenly over jayce’s throbbing cock, his tongue slipping between your lips. your tongue clashes with vik’s for a sweet moment before you both untangle just to slip jayce’s cock between your locked lips.

now you both work effortlessly in pleasing jayce. tongues clashing against the tip, pressing hot kisses into his shaft, sharing jayce like a snack before you slip him back into the warmth of your mouth. jayce groans as he places a hand gently against your head as you return to sucking him off, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth and you do as he wants. slipping your lips further down onto his shaft, as far as you can, until your lips pop off of him once more; where viktor replaces your mouth with his own.

now you two take turns sucking jayce off until he’s a whining mess. “mmph fuck!” jayce cries as he throws his head back.

a high pitched groan slips past his lips with every breath he takes, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to concentrate on not coming. his toes curl and you can feel his thighs tense up everytime your lips wrap around him, pull off, and vik slips his mouth back onto his cock. never giving jayce truly a moment to rest. the next time vik pops off, you return to the meal, and take jayce all the way into your mouth. he fills your mouth entirely, hitting damn near the back of your throat and your jaw begins to burn with the stretch.

jayce sucks in a sharp breath as you take him deep into your throat, grabbing any hair he can and gripping it gently as the sweetest whines tumble from his lips. “feels‘so good baby.”

and for a moment, you think that maybe you could continue forever drawing every noise you possibly could out of jayce until the sudden need between your own thighs grows to be too much.

you slip your mouth off of his cock, licking your puffy lips. you sneak a hand between your thighs to press against your soaking wet core. “can’t take it anymore jay…” you groan.

viktor chuckles at your desperation, as if he’s in any better shape than you are with his stiff cock straining against his pants. “i can’t take much more either.” viktor finally admits after you gave him a sarcastic look with a lifted eyebrow.

jayce, who is still flushed red, panting, hanging on the edge of his orgasm, and slightly dazed; curls up one of his fingers and motions for you to come to him. “c’mere baby.” he mutters with a fluttering gaze. forgetting his own orgasm as he wants nothing more than to please both you and viktor. as if it was his life’s purpose to make you both feel incredible.

[bunny-jpeg]

collars, lando n. - heaven came in the form as a collar. while most assumes that it was a hefty piece of leather with a clasp on the back. something for a dog. but you weren't a bitch, you weren't an animal to be tamed. you were lando's everything. never had he had the luxury of the love of a woman like you. your love danced under his skin and sent his brain into overdrive with the simplest of touches.

lando was a possessive man, in the world of racing many things required hyper focus. and lando's hungry gaze always landed on you. he yearned for you, that's why he bought you the collar. a symbol of his mark on you. something that wouldn't ruin with age, forever a reminder of who was your man. because lando was no fool, you were going to be together forever.

you collar was a gold chain that you could never take off. to most it seemed like an evergreen accessory, but to you it was a sign that you were an owned woman. a woman with a man who loved her.

most had wedding rings, you had a pretty gold chain. lando loved you in gold. but his favourite was the collar he gave you. the piece of him that was with you always, as if there wasn't so much his cum kept safely in your achy cunt as you greeted friends for a dinner party. lando would play with your chain while you were curled up on the couch in the vip section of a club. yank on it a little when he pulled you in for kisses. his words, "good girl." made you ears burn with heat.

"a girl looks best when she's collared. owned by a man." he said with humor in his tone. he loved a independent woman as much as the next guy, but to see you grew aroused by his degrading words was often a turn on for him, "should've gotten my name around that little neck of yours. a little extra hardware around that pretty throat of yours. then no one would have the balls to flirt with you. but, i know something better than gold. pretty, splotchy bruises."

lando loved when he got you hot and bothered with just his words. to watch you squirm in your seat as he held you close to him, his fingers across your throat where the chain was, "pretty things deserve pretty things. and good girls deserve the world." he yanked on the gold chain a little and chuckled lowly in your ear, "and you're my good girl, right? you listen to your man. behave for me. i work all day and all night to make your little life charmed. that's why you wear the collar, another thing i paid for. i pay for everything you own, baby. all mine. top to bottom. from the pretty paint on your nails to your soaked panties." lando made more money than you'd ever seen. you were his to poke, prod, kiss, fuck, squeeze, spank, and most of all, mark up anyway he saw fit. after all, he paid good money. even got you a lovely collar. you were the ultimate live in girlfriend, practically a housewife for lando. and he loved that. the ability to yank the gold chain, to pull you closer in more ways than one.

he was a hungry lover. he was a passionate, starving lover. they type of lover that would have you pressed up the nearest surface with the skirt of your dress flipped up and his heavy cock sank into you. speaking of dresses, you found yourself in more dresses than before. since lando started to buy you new clothes, the colours became softer as did the fabrics. and you had more dresses than at any other point in your life. you thought it was weird that your jeans and ratty t-shirts were slowly disappearing from your closet.

"where is that red t-shirt i always wore." you pouted as you searched through the drawers. "don't know, love. but i think you look better in orange anyway." the next day there are white and soft orange striped panties in your drawer. maybe not exactly mclaren colours, but you didn't need garish, loud colours. you needed something softer, delicate. like the chain around your neck.

"don't need anyone else but me, beautiful." he often said, especially when you're so-called friends ditched you for the evening. lando may have told them that you didn't want to go out. that the plans were mixed up and tonight you were spending with him. and don't even bother looking at instagram. it always made you sad when you saw them out without you. but it was alright, he'll make it all better. that was what he did, right? no need to worry about anything while he was by your side. clubbing isn't as fun when you could spend the night in bed with lando getting orgasm after orgasm out of you. fingers and tongue, followed by his cock. it left you out of breath and out of your mind. the throb of want coursing through you. insatiable.

curled up at lando's side, his hand in your hair. maybe he needed something nicer than a collar, maybe he was right. he needed to mark you pretty neck in the darkest purples he can make with his teeth. <3

a/n: thank you to everyone who basically forced me to take a few days off from writing. i'm slowly getting back into the game. here's a little something for you

[monster-disaster]

Hey, I hope you're doin' great! So... I just read that boss!orc x curvy!reader that you posted a while I go and I was thinking if you could write a part 2 for it? I'm not the one who asked for it but omggg it was so perfect. Thank you. 🥺♥️

orc!boss x human!curvy!Reader Good to know: original request, some lying and manipulation, but nothing angsty or bad, spice, spanking

He has to force himself to keep the growl buried deep within his broad chest. The rumble churns and bubbles in his throat, begging for release, but he swallows it down with a sharp breath before it can escape. His mouth twists into a wild snarl instead. His tusks, thick and prominent, dig into his upper lip. A deep wrinkle forms between his brows, furrowing so intensely it casts a shadow over his dark, piercing eyes as he stares at you through the darkened glass of his office wall.

You sit at your table, humming softly under your breath as your fingers glide over the keypad, pausing every now and then while your eyes flick between the screen and the document in your other hand. The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face, your long lashes, and the gentle gleam of your lipstick. You are wearing a sleek black piece that barely reaches the middle of your thighs. The soft fabric is snug against your curves, cupping your breasts into a delicious cleavage and hugging your wide hips just enough to make the orc's palms tingle to feel your flesh underneath his touch.

You always look beautiful in your dresses and skirts, but today, he knew something was different the moment he laid his eyes on you. You are glowing. You seem lighter, and more cheerful than usual. The way you move as you carry yourself, the brightness in your eyes, and your smile, everything about you is a touch more vibrant. More alive.

And he didn’t have to dig for long to discover the reason for it all.

His fingers curl into hard fists as the thought crosses his mind. A simmering heat flares up in his chest, twisting with something bitter and unspoken. It makes his jaw tighten and his pulse quicken.

You have a date tonight.

After the lesson on keeping your space tidy and the reward for doing so, he made the mistake of leaving things between you two as they were. He didn’t push forward. He let his head, his hesitancy, and the fear of what could go wrong win. And now, he's forced to face the consequences; you with another man. A snarl threatens to break free from his throat, but he swallows it down again. His frustration buzzes just beneath the surface. It makes his posture rigid and tense. No, the orc thinks, clenching his fists tighter. Not if it’s up to me. He can feel his resolve hardening with each passing second as he watches you glancing at the clock on your wrist with a giddy smile on your pretty lips. He had waited too long, but that was over now.

Reaching for the phone, he presses the button that connects straight to your desk. He watches you jump at the sudden noise, your head snapping up, but you answer immediately with your other hand still on your chest to calm down your rapid heartbeat.

"Hey, boss," you greet him. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember the file I sent you yesterday?"

"Yes."

"I need them for tomorrow." Even though his jaw is tight and tense, the lie slips out smoothly between his rigid lips.

He sees you freeze in your seat. "What? You said it could wait until next week."

"I got the date wrong," the orc says almost apologetically, his voice deliberately innocent. "Why? Is that a problem?"

"Well... I won’t finish them without putting in extra hours," you admit. Your voice is softer now, hesitant as you click away on your computer, scanning through the files he sent.

"And what's the problem with that?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. His eyes are locked on your figure the whole time.

"I... I already have a program for tonight," you respond, uncertainty lacing your words. "Are you sure it can't wait until tomorrow?" You glance at his way, but the man knows you can't see him through the dark fog of the glass.

"Are you sure you can't postpone your plans?" His voice is calm, too calm. Even though he phrased it like a question, both of you know there is only one acceptable answer.

"Yeah," you sigh in a reluctant surrender. "I can, boss."

"Great."

His satisfaction doesn't last long, though. His triumph fades as the hours drag on while he watches you from his office. Each glance at your hunched form tightens the knot in his chest. Your shoulders sag as you tirelessly type away on the keypad. Guilt gnaws at him, sharp and persistent, and no matter how much he tries to focus on his own tasks, he can't shake it off. The smile he had envied earlier has vanished from your face, replaced by a strained focus. Your pretty, shiny lips now are in a pout. The glow he had been so jealous of is nowhere to be seen. He wanted you to cancel your plans, but now that he has you all to himself, he feels like an asshole.

The thought of letting you go crosses his mind several times throughout the day, but every time he reaches for the phone, his hand hesitates above the button. Each time, he pulls back, unable to go through with it. Despite his inner battle, the thought of you going out with another man burns much hotter in his chest than the guilt that nags at him. He can't make himself let you go.

So he does nothing, and before he knows it, it’s just you and him left in the building, along with the security guard downstairs. The lamps have been turned off, leaving only his office and your desk bathed in a dim glow. The city outside sparkles with lights and neon signs. The apartments' yellow hues spill through the windows onto the busy streets and bustling roads.

The orc remains at his desk. His fingers hover above the keyboard, dancing in idle patterns without actually pressing any buttons. The bluish light from the screen illuminates the slightly curved line of his nose, the fullness of his lips, and the hard edge of his jawline. He tries to focus on the chart in front of him, his gaze fixed on the shifting data, but his thoughts are far away. They are tangled in the images of you and what he did.

"Boss?"

For a long moment, the orc just blinks at you from his desk as you stand in the doorway. The shine of your lips has faded, and you look weary, worn down by the long hours. His heart clenches with guilt once again at the sight. A sharp pang of remorse cuts through him. He should have approached this differently. He should have been honest and asked you out directly instead of pushing you into working on something he didn't even need.

"Yes?" he finally manages to ask, his voice rougher than he intended.

"I'm done."

The orc’s surprise is barely contained. He hadn't truly expected you to finish it. He almost grimaces at the thought of how much you had to hurry with it.

"Thank you, Y/N," he hums. "I’m sorry you had to cancel your... program." The mention of it leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

You shrug, allowing a small but tired smile to curve your lips. "It's fine. I can go tomorrow."

The orc's jaw tightens. Being an adult, he scoffs to himself. That option is clearly out of the window now.

"Do you want to sit?" he asks, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of him. "Something to drink?" He adds, already rising from his seat to retrieve two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. "You deserve it."

You sigh with a nod, heading to the chair. "Thank you."

After handing you one of the glasses, the orc doesn’t return to his usual spot at the desk. Instead, he sits down beside you, legs spread wide. He takes a long gulp of his drink. The amber liquid burns down his throat. He watches you from the corner of his eye, noting how tired but oddly relaxed you look. Your legs are crossed, causing your skirt to ride up slightly on your plush thighs.

"So," he clears his throat, attempting to break the silence. "What was your plan for the evening, anyway?"

A long moment of silence stretches between you, and when he finally glances over, he sees a small, mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"What?" he asks.

"Don't act like you don't know what my plan was."

The orc feels himself freeze, his mind racing. "What?"

"I know you heard me when I talked about it with my friend."

"Y/N..." he starts, the words faltering on his tongue. He feels like he is in trouble, yet, your mischievous grin tells him otherwise.

"Do you want to know something?" you ask, leaning in slightly.

He nods, still not finding his voice.

"I lied," you say, barely containing a laugh as you watch his bewildered expression.

"Lied about what?" His frown deepens into a scowl.

"I lied about the date," you reveal. The curve of your lips widens, and your eyes sparkle with satisfaction and pride. "There was no date."

The orc’s confusion turns into a stunned silence. "No date?"

"No," you confirm with a grin. "I wanted to see if you cared enough to do something about it."

The orc's mouth opens and closes, but he is too shocked to say anything. You lied. You lied to see if you could make him jealous enough to do something.

You little minx.

Before he can gather his thoughts, a loud, surprised gasp escapes his lips as you stand up and settle onto one of his thighs, facing him. The black fabric of your dress stretches tightly around your legs where they drape over his. Your heat presses down against his trousers as you let your weight rest fully on him.

"Did it work?" you ask, nibbling on your lower lip. The only sign of your nervousness is the slight tremble in your hands as you play with the buttons of his shirt near his belt. You're clearly stepping out of your comfort zone, risking everything just because he couldn't muster the courage to take the lead.

His hands rest on yours for a moment, squeezing your delicate fingers as a reassuring gesture before moving up to your bare thighs. His touch is lingering and exploring. You feel soft and yielding beneath his fingers, and he can’t help but note the contrast between his firm grip and your pliant warmth.

"Did you lie to me, little one?" His voice rumbles deeply, sending a shiver up your spine.

You bite down on your lower lip, the soft flesh already swollen and tender. "Will you punish me for it?"

The orc growls low in his throat, squeezing your hips one time before hauling you up from his lap. The sudden movement punches a loud squeal out of your chest, and before you know it, you are on his table, knocking off his things onto the ground.

“Stay like that,” he growls, pressing one hand firmly in the middle of your back. Your upper body is now pressed down against the wooden surface of his desk, while your bottom is positioned toward him. The black skirt you wear rides up, revealing the lush curve of your ass and the thin fabric of your underwear.

“You lied to me,” he says, his voice heavy with frustration. “I could barely concentrate on my work because the thought of you with another man drove me mad.”

“I’m sorry,” you croak out, but you sound anything but sorry.

“You manipulated me, little one,” he continues, his anger tinged with a hint of a smile. “And now I have to punish you.”

With deliberate movements, the orc pushes your skirt higher, exposing your round ass and the thin black thong wedged between your cheeks. His cock twitches at the delicious sight.

“Ah!” you cry out when his large palm lands on your exposed skin with a loud smack.

“Now tell me,” he hums, his fingers gripping the warm, flushed skin, “was it worth it?”

“Yes,” you reply immediately, your breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. Despite the sting, there’s a spark of satisfaction in your voice. This was your goal all along. And more.

“So there’s no other man?” he asks, his voice rough and demanding as his hand lands on your ass with a series of loud, stinging slaps that make your whole body shudder.

“No,” you cry out.

“No one who wants to see your pretty little ass like this?” His hand comes down again with a sharp smack.

“I don’t care about anyone else." Your voice strained as you lie on the table. Your fingers clench into tight fists at the burning heat on your ass.

“Good answer,” the orc snarls, his hand moving relentlessly. Each slap makes your round bottom flush warm under his touch.

The zipper of his pants presses uncomfortably against his throbbing erection, a constant reminder of the raw, urgent desire he’s struggling to contain, but he knows that if he releases himself, there will be no turning back. He would need to be inside you immediately.

And he has too much fun now to end it so quickly.

The office is filled with the sounds of your panting and ragged moans as you squirm on the desk, desperately trying to rub your thick thighs together for some friction, but the orc quickly intervenes, pushing his leg between yours with a disapproving tsk of his tongue.

"I don’t think you’ve earned it yet," he says. His chest expands at the sounds of your pathetic whines.

"Please." Your plea trembles with need.

The orc grins, pressing his own thigh against your panty-clad cunt, teasing you without offering any real relief.

"Don’t you think you deserve your punishment?" he hums, his tone laced with amusement.

"I do," you reply in a whine, resting your forehead on the cool surface of his desk while he continues to knead your warm, sensitive skin.

"Good girl," he says approvingly, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your black thong. "I will give you pleasure when I think you earned it."

His name is barely out of your mouth when a loud gasp escapes your lips the moment the orc’s hand pulls at your panties, pressing the black fabric deeper between your flushed cheeks. The material slips between your damp folds, soaking up your wetness.

“Fuck, little one,” the orc groans at the sight of your panties almost disappearing into your fat pussy. “I would never let any man see this,” he says with a fierce possessiveness. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this sends a surge of burning anger through his veins. “It’s just for me.”

You remain silent, which earns you another sharp slap on your ass from the orc. You gasp and moan. The combined sensation of the burning sting on your ass and the thong rubbing against your pussy creates a heady mix of pleasure and pain that makes your hips grind instinctively.

“I want your answer,” he demands firmly as he lets go of your panties. His fingers slip between your ass, slipping down and finding the wet heat between your thighs. He teases you, making you shiver as you burn under his fingertips.

"Yes," you cry. "It's just for you! It's just for you!"

"That's what I like to hear," he hums, his fingers digging deeper between your swollen, sensitive lips. Your panties are ruined, the crotch is clinging soaked to your puffy cunt.

He can't wait to taste you, to feel your soft walls around his cock as he pounds into you until you see stars and know nothing but his name.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” he says, his patience thinning with each passing second. “You’ll spend the night at my place, and if you’re a good girl while I feed you, I’ll take you to bed and fuck you on every surface in my house.”

“Yesyesyes,” you sob. You tremble with desperation. “Please.”

“Come on, then,” he groans, pressing his hard cock against your pussy one last time before helping you off the desk and smoothing your skirt back into place. “Let me take you home, little one.”

[keresnotceres]

Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

PART TWO

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

[eddiesxangel]

My Little Bunny | Older!Eddie x Reader

For Evie, @oneforthemunny prompt for her writing challenge. “based off the lore that older!eddie gets slutty on tequila lol. gimme tequila eddie. make it slutty. the og prompt was at the beach for a wedding of a cousin, if you’d like to follow that, but if not- where does it happen? how do you think it would go? don’t spare a single detail please!!!!” I hope I did your man justice 😘 happy one year!

Happy new year! Here is some smut to start the year off right.

This is pure filth, don’t look at me🫣

Cw: age gap, oral, p in v, ass play, anal. Minors DNI. Only slightly proofread so if you see a spelling mistake… no you didn’t 😤

“Bunnnnnnnnnnnnnny” Eddie slurred. The man could not handle his liquor. But neither could you.

After what happened and the wedding, Eddie swore he wouldn’t drink tequila for a very long time. However, tonight was special. Tonight, the baby was with your parents, and Bri was off with your sister for the evening. It was just you. And Eddie. Alone for the first time in what felt like years. Eddie was wining and dining with you tonight.

You convinced him to go to a bar to dance. Well, you danced, he watched. He watched your body; he loved the new curves you got from bringing Delilah into the world. You returned to the bar where he was sitting and ordered four tequila shots. Eddie had been nursing a beer all night; he was shocked at your drink of choice.

“Bunny you know what happens when I drink this…” giving you a stern look.

“Maybe I wanna get a little freaky tonight…. It’s been so long” you run your hands up and down his chest.

“I don’t know”

“What if I gave you an insensitive?”

“And what would that be?”

“I want you to fuck my ass tonight” you whispered against your husband’s ear.

“Bunnnnnnnnnnnnnny” Eddie slured again as you both stumbled into your home.

“Fuck I need you. I need your tight ass so bad”

You can’t keep your hands off one another. Your lips are attached to his neck, and your hands run up and down his body. You barely make it through the front door before your hands are trying to get down his pants.

Somehow, you make it to the bedroom. You were stripping your man with each step. Something inside of you was burning, and Eddie was the only thing to put it out. A visceral ache in your core, screaming at you to do something about it.

“I need you, I need you so bad,” you whined because he wasn’t moving fast enough. You were already on the bed waiting for him.

Eddie giggled as he tried to unbutton his dress shirt, but it didn’t seem to work.

“Come here,” Eddie coxed you closer to him. “I need your help.”

“Arms up,” your mom instincts kicked in, and you pulled off Eddie’s shirt in one swift motion.

Without hesitation, you worked on his pants the second your fingertips left the fabric of his shirt. Your nimble fingers worked his belt, button, and zipper, and finally, why you craved most was released before you.

"God, you're so hot! How did I land a wife so fucking hot?"

You let Eddie cup your face, kissing you as he pushes you back onto the bed. His tongue parted your lips, and you gladly let him take charge.

It was needy and messy but so deliciously delightful. You missed your hundreds touch. You’d been so busy being a new mom, and Eddie tried picking up extra shifts to make a little more cash so you could take a nice vacation this summer. You hardly spent time together. You needed this. He needed this. The fire in his belly was also burning the second you mentioned your perfect tight little hole wanting to be stretched and pounded by his cock.

“You gonna be my good little bunny?” Eddie spoke as he slinked down your body so his face was level with your throbbing pussy.

“Yes!” You had zero patients, and he thought it was cute.

“Well then... You gotta get nice and wet, f’me”

“Already ammmmm” you wined again. Why was he prolonging this?

“Oh is she? I guess I’ll just have to see for myself.” Eddie didn’t spare another second. His hands wrenched your legs open, pressing them as far as they could reach.

You let out a moan of pleasure when his mouth finally attached to your lower lips.

Eddie needed to taste you. He usually didn’t do this often, but tonight you deserved to be thoroughly fucked. He needed to feel you cumming in his mouth, to taste you, to feel you. His eyes rolled back into his head as he moaned into your pussy.

“Looks like you were right, baby bunny, and you taste so good. Just can’t get enough,” Eddie dove back in, flicking and licking at your clit. Your body was so reactive to him tonight. Let’s thank the tequila because it didn’t take much to make you cum from his mouth.

“Baby, I’m so close”

“Already? But I just started playing with her” he pouted.

“Yes! P-please.” You stuttered.

“You wanna cum? You going to cum for me?”

Unexpectedly, Eddie replaced his mouth with his finger just as you were on the brink. Before you could say anything, his finger was inside your wet fold, collecting all of your slick, and was quickly replaced by his mouth again.

You could feel the warmth building back up. Eddie continued to work your clit. All the while, his finger, drenched with your own natural lube, was starting to tease your other hole.

“Oh my god,” you moan as his finger slowly makes its way inside.

“You okay?”

“Don’t stop!” You begged as your first orgasm washes through you.

“Fuck, your tight little ass is sucking me in so good,” Eddie continues to finger you as you ride out your orgasm.

“Good bunny. Turn around, ass up, show me what’s mine.”

You quickly obeyed his orders and flipped around so you could show him what he wanted. You loved when he got possessive.

“Tell me what you want bunny”

“You.”

“Nu-uh,” Eddie tutted. “Be more specific.”

“Edddiiiieee, please, I need you.”

Eddie couldn’t believe your extra brattiness tonight.

“No,” a sharp slap filled the room and your ass stung. “Tell me what you need, Bunny,” he spoke, and he massaged the area he slapped. Soothing your skin.

“Your tongue… and your fingers,” you pant.

“Good little bunny,” he smirked. “You want me to tongue fuck your tight little hole? Get you nice and ready for me?”

“Yes,” you sigh as you arch your back more so Eddie can see more of you.

“Fuck bunny, you’re perfect.” Eddie gripped each cheek, spreading you open before dipping his head down.

When you felt his tongue make contact with your hole, you cried out again. You were revelling in the fact you were in an empty house. You could be as loud as you wanted.

“Mmmmmm, you taste so good, Bunny,” he moaned into you.

“Eddie!”

“Yes, Bunny?”

“More!”

“More what?”

“Please fuck my pussy”

“You’re such a good little slut for me. Good girl telling me what you want…. But is that all you want?” God, he was so condescending.

You let out an irritated huff. “Eddie, please,” you begged as you wiggled your ass in the air to entice him.

“You need to behave, little bunny, or else you’re not going to get what you want.” Eddie’s hands gripped your cheeks tighter.

“I’m sorry, I just need you so badly baby”

“Ohhh, I like that; tell me more.”

“I need you so bad! I’m aching for you. Please.”

“That’s my good girl.

Eddie lined up his cock with your wanton hole and slowly stretched you out.

“Thank you.” You sighed with relief.

His thick long cock stretched out your walls. You couldn’t help yourself as you rocked your body back and forth onto his cock.

“That’s it, bunny. Show me what you really can do” he slapped your ass again. You rocked your knees and hips back onto Eddie’s cock as he stood at the edge of your shared bed.

“Mmmmmm”

“More!”

You felt a wad of spit drip down your ass, lower and lower, until Eddie’s fingers found it and rimmed your picked hole. As you rocked your body against Eddie’s cock he dipped in his single digit, adding another and another until you stretched out.

Your body is screaming; Eddie was making you feel so good.

“Ok, bunny, you’re going to ride me, bounce on this cock and show me how good of a Bunny you are.”

“Yes, please. Need you.”

Eddie pulled out so he could get underneath you, but not before he reached the nightstand to pull out the lube you had stashed away for nights like these.

“You ready for me, baby?” He asked as he covered his cock in the slippery substance.

“Yes,” you swung your leg around his hips, aligning yourself with his hard cock that lay on his stomach.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered as he guided your hips down onto him.

“Oh fuck” you both grit out in unison.

You watched as Eddie glazed over with lust.

“Fucking so good. Damn, tight.” Eddie gritted through his teeth.

He planted his feet on the mattress to ground himself. His hips started thrusting up into you, matching your strokes.

“Fuck fuck fuck I love the way you take my cock. Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“I love it,” you panted as you bounced on his cock. You felt so full, so complete. So ready for his cock to fill you.

“Baby, touch me,” you commanded.

Eddie dipped his head to take a nipple in his mouth as his hand found your pussy, finding your clit. A rush of pleasure ran through your body as his mouth and hands explored your body.

“Oh baby,” you threw your head back with pleasure.

“How much do you want it, baby bunny?”

“I want it so bad!”

“What do you want?”

“Your cum”

“Sucha little slut, want me to fill your ass with my cum?”

“Yes!”

Eddie’s hand never stopped working your clit. You could feel the pleasure build and build. Your legs were burning, but it was in measure to how Eddie was making you feel.

“You’re close baby I can feel you clenching down on me so tight.” He squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby, cum for me, then I’ll fill you up so good you’ll be leaking for days. Do you want that? To feel my cum dripping out of you tomorrow?”

“Fuck. Eddie!” You cried out as your body clenched around his cock, cumming hard.

"Eddie continued to pound into your ass until he unloaded up into you, filling you up just like you begged him to do.

Your body went limp and your soar muscles rested as you lay your weight fully on your husband.

"Remind me again. Why don't I do tequila?" Eddie laughed as his brain released serotonin. "That was amazing." He kissed the top of your head.

"Remember that question tomorrow, big boy." You giggled, and Eddie finally pulled out of you.

"Come on, Bunny, let's get you cleaned up. " Even in his drunken state, he still needed to take care of you.

"Can't move. You fucked me too well." you sighed.

"I think you did most of the work Bun, you fucked me."

"I did, didn't I?" You smile at the realization.

"Don't get cocky now" He slapped your ass, and you jumped up out of bed with Eddie following close behind you.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

heartless- clark kent

thinking abour red red kryptonite clark teasing you and making you ride his thigh to get off... mmm

this is smutty so you have been warned

“I don't know why you keep squirming around like that angel. It's not gonna let you cum any faster.” Clark chuckled as you pouted upon your pedestal- his denim clothed thigh, struggling to get any form of friction to quell the heat that puddled between your legs.

It had been over an hour of this, of you trying to be extra sweet to please Clark, in hopes he would pick you up the way you liked- like a doll, and coo at you as he’d make you cum repeatedly in his bed.

Instead, you were here- desperate for relief as he mocked you.

Your usual schemes had failed, his gaze amused and uninterested as you tried extra hard to do things you knew tended to get him head over heels for you. It was as if he could see right through you.

Those attempts had resulted in failure, as Clark was anything but sweet. No, his demeanour was darker, and he was meaner.

But fuck if you didnt enjoy it, just a little.

He had coaxed you up onto his lap, where he man spread wide across the couch in his room. You straddled his thick thigh, rubbing your hips on your own accord. He refused to help, and it drove you to the point of tears.

“Please Clark, please- I ju-just need your help.” you hiccuped, feeling a tear start to slip down your cheek as your legs started to quiver and shake, just as your lower lip did.

He smirked, hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your lower lip- forcing its way into your mouth. You sucked, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“You look so pretty when you cry baby. Such a cute lil thing, aren't you?”

He bucked his knee up, bouncing it up and down in rhythm, making you squirm even more as you clung to his t-shirt, bawling the fabric into your fists.

“You really need my help to make you cum, don't you? Pathetic. Can you do anything on your own?”

You shook your head, another tear falling down your cheek, leaving them feeling sticky in its wake as it fell to Clarks hand.

“No, no that's right, you need me to do everything for you. You need me, cause no one can fuck you as good as I can- yeah?”

You frantically nodded, eyes widening as his hand slid down to your hips, guiding them as you grinded on him shamelessly, a wet patch on his pants.

“Yeah, I know baby. Maybe I’ll let you cum.” he said coyley, a smirk on his face, eyebrows raising as you tried to protest, only getting out incoherent mumbles through his thumb in your mouth.

“What's that? You can hold off a little longer? Oh angel..” he cooed as you shook your head, trying desperately to hold off from finishing. You knew if you came without his permission, you’d be in for it.

“I- I cant hold off anymore.” you choked out, drool dripping down your chin as he removed his thumb, shinny with your spit.

“Too bad.” he grinned, a flash of red shining in his eyes.