#if Visibility isn’t a Thing that you can do I see you and I am blowing a kiss ur way
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happy tdov to all my fellow gender freaks of the world ily ❤️
#I am unfortunately practicing the art of invisibility today bc my parents are here but#it’s the thought that counts#if Visibility isn’t a Thing that you can do I see you and I am blowing a kiss ur way#z posting
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I spent the evening looking into this AI shit and made a wee informative post of the information I found and thought all artists would be interested and maybe help yall?
edit: forgot to mention Glaze and Nightshade to alter/disrupt AI from taking your work into their machines. You can use these and post and it will apparently mess up the AI and it wont take your content into it's machine!
edit: ArtStation is not AI free! So make sure to read that when signing up if you do! (this post is also on twt)
[Image descriptions: A series of infographics titled: “Opt Out AI: [Social Media] and what I found.” The title image shows a drawing of a person holding up a stack of papers where the first says, ‘Terms of Service’ and the rest have logos for various social media sites and are falling onto the floor. Long transcriptions follow.
Instagram/Meta (I have to assume Facebook).
Hard for all users to locate the “opt out” options. The option has been known to move locations.
You have to click the opt out link to submit a request to opt out of the AI scraping. *You have to submit screenshots of your work/face/content you posted to the app, is curretnly being used in AI. If you do not have this, they will deny you.
Users are saying after being rejected, are being “meta blocked”
People’s requests are being accepted but they still have doubts that their content won’t be taken anyways.
Twitter/X
As of August 2023, Twitter’s ToS update:
“Twitter has the right to use any content that users post on its platform to train its AI models, and that users grant Twitter a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free license to do so.”
There isn’t much to say. They’re doing the same thing Instagram is doing (to my understanding) and we can’t even opt out.
Tumblr
They also take your data and content and sell it to AI models.
But you’re in luck!
It is very simply to opt out (Wow. Thank Gods)
Opt out on Desktop: click on your blog > blog settings > scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle
Out out of Mobile: click your blog > scroll then click visibility > toggle opt out option
TikTok
I took time skim their ToS and under “How We Use Your Information” and towards the end of the long list: “To train and improve our technology, such as our machine learning models and algorithms.”
Regarding data collected; they will only not sell your data when “where restricted by applicable law”. That is not many countries. You can refuse/disable some cookies by going into settings > ads > turn off targeted ads.
I couldn’t find much in AI besides “our machine learning models” which I think is the same thing.
What to do?
In this age of the internet, it’s scary! But you have options and can pick which are best for you!
Accepting these platforms collection of not only your artwork, but your face! And not only your faces but the faces of those in your photos. Your friends and family. Some of those family members are children! Some of those faces are minors! I shudder to think what darker purposes those faces could be used for.
Opt out where you can! Be mindful and know the content you are posting is at risk of being loaded to AI if unable to opt out.
Fully delete (not archive) your content/accounts with these platforms. I know it takes up to 90 days for instagram to “delete” your information. And even keep it for “legal” purposes like legal prevention.
Use lesser known social media platforms! Some examples are; Signal, Mastodon, Diaspora, et. As well as art platforms: Artfol, Cara, ArtStation, etc.
The last drawing shows the same person as the title saying, ‘I am, by no means, a ToS autistic! So feel free to share any relatable information to these topics via reply or qrt!
I just wanted to share the information I found while searching for my own answers cause I’m sure people have the same questions as me.’ \End description] (thank you @a-captions-blog!)
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Never have I ever - matt sturniolo
summary: an innocent game of never have i ever with your bestfriend matt, turns into you finding out his biggest secret, hes still a virgin. you have to teach him a thing or two.
contains: smut, virginity loss, clueless!matt, inexperienced!matt x experienced!reader, fluff, making out, bestfriend!matt.
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"okay- never have i everr... pissed the bed above the age of 16." i laugh, staring at matt who has a grin on his face.
"i am GLAD to say i have not." matt smiles, wiping his face.
"whatt!! i have!" i exclaim,
matt and i burst out laughing, him pushing me over on the bed. i fall on my back, still uncontrollably laughing.
i sit back up on the matress,
"your turn now!" i say,
matt pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, they slip down everytime he speaks.
"i dont have one!" matt instantly snaps back, shutting down my suggestion.
"okay ill go again." i grin cheekily.
"never have i everrr cried after sex." i speak,
matt visibly tenses, his smile faltering.
"oh- um- i dont know-" matt laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.
matt adjusts his glasses again, something he seems to do when he’s nervous.
"come onn, you can tell me!" i push,
matts eyes are going everywhere but mine, his cheeks flushed and his hands fidgety.
"im- like.. what- what do you mean." matt stammers,
"are you okay? you dont have to say." i say softly,
"no its fine- it doesnt- just shut up.” he mumbles,
“if you have it’s fine!!” i giggle
“i’ve never like- done anything so…” matt says quietly, an awkward chuckle escaping his lips.
“what?”
matt avoids eye contact, “it’s not a big deal,”
i nod, “no yeah- i know it’s not a big deal i just was convinced you’ve done a lot.”
matt shakes his head, “no.”
i grab his hand, “you know you can tell me stuff like that, right?”
he nods, “it’s just embarrassing..”
i shake my head, “no it’s not, i would never judge you.”
he sighs, running a hand through his hair. his cheeks are deep red and his head is tilted down and his gaze is fixed on his lap.
matt’s never really talked about his sex life, he’s always been a reserved person ever since i met him, now i can see why.
“i’ve never even made out with a girl, like i’ve kissed and shit but never made out, isn’t that so embarrassing?” matt starts to open up
“you’ve never even made out?” i repeat, my eyes widening.
“see- that reaction is why i don’t tell people.” matt groans, flopping back on the pillows as he throws his face into his hands.
“no- no it’s not a bad thing!” i state,
matt’s nods silently,
i stare down at him as he looks up at me,
suddenly he speaks.
“would you teach me stuff if i asked.” he blurts out
“pardon?” i say, not convinced that i heard him correctly.
“like how to have sex and stuff, if not that’s okay and we’ll forget this whole thing ever happened- i just trust you a lot and i feel like it would just be a friendly thing.” matt speaks fast, stumbling over his words
“you actually want me to..?”
matt nods shyly, his cheeks now a deep red.
“it won’t matter afterwards- it’s just purely so you’re not a virgin anymore?” i clarify,
matt nods again, “yes- no strings attatched..”
i take a deep breath, “you’re sure?”
matt speaks, “i am, i’m sorry-“
i furrow my eyebrows, “don’t be sorry, i’m glad you trust me.”
matt nods again.
i grab his chin, “just follow my lead baby.”
matt’s eyes widen, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.
i press my lips to his softly, a small gasp escaping his mouth.
our lips slot together perfectly, my nose brushed against his as i tilt my head to the right.
i run my hands up the back of his neck to the back of his hair, tugging loosely at the strands.
matt’s hands are practically glued by his sides, i grin as i grab his wrists, placing his hands on the curve of my waist.
i slowly dip my tongue inside his mouth,
although matt said he’d never made out before, it doesn’t seem like it, he’s impossibly good.
matt sits up on his knees, the matress dips beneath his weight.
i scoot closer to him, the wet sounds of our lips smacking together fill the silent room.
i slowly pull away to catch my breath, our panting loud and heavy.
matt has a different look in his eyes, more needy but dominant, he wants more.
he grabs the back of my neck and tugs me closer to him, colliding our lips again.
“you’re good at this.” i mutter against his raw lips, a smile tugging at his mouth.
“no i’m not.” he mumbles, his face inches away from mine.
“you definitely are.” i say softly,
i crawl onto his lap, he grabs my jaw and pulls me back into him.
our tongues fight for dominance, i clearly seem to be winning.
i can tell matt enjoys this, enjoys me being in full control.
i pull away again, “matt- should we start?” i breathe.
he covers his face, “i’m gonna be so clueless.”
“matt that’s okay, i promise, you said that about kissing and you were fucking good.”
matt’s breathes nervously as i shift on his lap,
“no but i barely know anything about this.. like i know the basics but nothing else and-“ he starts,
i press a finger to his lips, “shh.”
“i’m here to teach you, remember?” i say gently, running my hand through his hair.
he nods, “okay- okay.”
i smile at him reassuringly,
i reach for the hem of my shirt, tugging it up over my head.
matt’s eyes are trained on my lacy black bra, his cheeks instantly blushing
“wanna try take this off?” i say, referencing my bra
matt nods frantically, his hands reach up behind my back and fiddle with the clasp.
after a short amount of time he gently unclasps it, letting it fall fowards on his chest.
he sits up straight against the headboard, me still sat on his lap.
matt’s eyes are fixed on my tits, which are right in his face.
he stares shamelessly, “fuck..”
i feel him growing through his sweatpants, his bulge pressing against my clothed cunt.
“you’re hard?” i whisper, reaching for his waistband.
he nods,
i tug down his waistband to his mid thighs,
“im gonna take these off.” i speak,
matt whines softly, “okay- okay.”
i tug down his boxers, his erection springing out.
holy shit.
“not to boost your ego or anything but that’s big matt.” i tell him,
matt lets out a breathless laugh, “stop that..”
“have you ever had a blowjob?” i ask, knowing the answer already.
“no- no! i told you..” he replies, his tone whiny and embarrassed.
i grin, getting off his lap and sitting between his thighs,
i lay between his thighs, propped up on my elbows as his dick is inches away from my face.
i kitten lick his tip, a sharp gasp escaping matt’s mouth.
he bucks his hips up instantly,
“you’re so sensitive.”
matt breathes heavily,
i wrap my lips around his tip, taking the head of his cock in my mouth.
“ohh- oh my god..” matt groans, covering his face with his large hands.
i swirl my tongue around his tip, before taking more of him down my throat.
“fuck- fuck oh god-!” matt whimpers,
i instinctively clench as i hear his whimper, it was so fucking hot.
i look up at him through my eyelashes, his framed glasses sit ontop of his light blue eyes, which are now scrunched shut.
his glasses have always turned me on, it makes him seem more innocent.
matt clutches his bedsheets,
he gasp as i continue to take him down my throat.
i suddenly pull off of him, matt’s eyes opening slowly.
“don’t stop please.” he mumbles, his hands shaking lightly.
“i don’t want you to cum yet, you’ll be all overstimulated if you do.” i tell him,
i crawl back up onto his lap, sitting on his thighs.
matt’s dick rests against his stomach, still fully hard
i tug his shirt off over his head, “you’re sweating.” i laugh.
“how could i not i mean- you’ve just left me fully hard here and-!” matt complains,
i press a finger to his lips, “shh sh.”
he whines, “i want you so bad.”
“you want my pussy?” i ask, playing with the ties of my shorts.
matt nods frantically,
i sit up slightly to tug my shorts off,
matt stares down at me, still sat happily on his upper thighs.
he looks at my black lacy panties, which match the bra i had on.
he shyly reaches down, dragging his cold finger over the fabric of my panties, just lightly grazing my clit.
“please- please.” matt sighs,
i smile, tugging my panties to the side.
matt throws his head back as i’m revealed to him, clearly overwhelmed.
“i can’t- i need you right now.”
i grin, hovering myself above his tip.
“can you- can you be on top, like in charge.” matt asks shyly,
“yeah, of course i can.” i say,
“you ready?” i follow up,
“yes- yes.”
i slowly sink down onto his tip, both of our gasps filling the room.
matt’s dick almost instantly twitches inside of me.
his cheeks go a deep shade of red.
i sink further down on his length, matt arches his back off the bed. a small cry escaping his mouth.
“you- oh my- that feels so good-“ matt babbles,
i fully bottom out on him, sitting comfortably as i try to adjust to his girth.
matt lets out ragged breathes,
he reaches up and grabs my waist, the same thing i taught him to do while we were making out earlier.
i start to slowly drag myself back up his cock, almost pulling out then dropping back down again. i position his hands to my ass.
he sinks his fingers into the plush of my ass as he try’s to contain himself.
“y-you can make noises,” i assure him,
his lips are pursed in a thin straight line, which he instantly stops doing as soon as i tell him not to.
he lets out a well needed moan, his voice cracking.
“you- you usually guide the girl up and down your dick.” i say, still sticking to the ‘teacher’ label that he wanted me to do.
overall, this is just for me to teach him.. right?
matt helps me, pulling me up and down on his length,
“please- please i need to cum.” matt whimpers breathlessly,
“you can hold it.” i say,
i start to pick up the pace, bouncing harder, and faster on him.
his tip kisses my cervix, each vein fills me up so much.
he starts to squirm, his glasses fall off his face onto his chest.
i grab his glasses, without thinking putting them on me.
matt stares at me, instantly letting out a guttural moan at the sight.
“i can’t- please let me cum- please!” matt raises his voice, his voice high pitched and whiny
“i need to! i need to fuck!” matt rambles, his voice breaking as he sinks his fingers further into my sss.
“you- you can cum-“ i tell him,
matt lets out a high pitched whimper as he finishes.
he coats my inside with his release, his abs tensing and his eyes scrunching shut.
i let my head tip back, his glasses shifting up my nose.
i clench around his sensitive cock before orgasming aswell,
“matt!!” i squeal,
i slowly start to come down from the orgasm, gently lifting myself off his dick.
matt lays in the sheets, his body trembling.
i lay foward on his chest, pulling his glasses off of my face and putting them back on his.
he smiles softly, his eyes shut and beads of sweat on his forehead.
he pants heavily into my ear as i lay ontop of him.
a comfortable silence fills the room, accompanied sounds of our heavy breathing.
matt breaks the silence after a second.
“that glasses thing- was so hot.” he sighs, reffering to me riding him with his own glasses on.
i smile, chuckling softly into his shoulder.
matt speaks up again.
“um- i know we said it was a one time thing but.. do you maybe think we could maybe do it again tomorrow.. just so you know- you could teach me more..?”
“i could make that happen.”
-
@downbad4reid
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#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader
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Do you think I'm a monster?
Remus Lupin x fem! hufflepuff! werewolf! reader
Summary: After an eventful summer, Remus’ finds his girlfriend being distant, but it isn’t until the the next full moon he realises why
Warnings: swearing, mentions of eating, scars, greyback, violence, sex and nudity (non-sexual), kissing, established relationship, hurt/comfort
A/n: 4.1k words, I am back and taking requests, i haven’t written anything for over a year so things might be a little rusty, please bare with me as i get back into the groove of writing but I’m so happy to be back writing again, thank you so much for the request, enjoy ♡
Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist
Remus’ leg bobbed impatiently, eyes darting to the entrance everytime someone entered hoping it was you yet he was only met with disappointment. His mood did lighten as he saw his friends enter, chuckling as he watched James walk into the table as he tried to woo Lily.
“You alright?” he asks trying not to smile to hard as James groans
“Eh it’s nothing” he cringes sitting opposite, Peter by his side, while Sirius plops himself down next to Remus “Did she laugh at least?” he ignores his pain and embarrassment, only thinking of the girl sitting little ways down from them now, giggling with Marlene and Alice
“Yeah Prongs, she laughed” he tells a little white lie, though he’s sure Lily probably did think it slightly adorable
“Where's your lovely lady?” Sirius asks, scanning the Hufflepuff table for you
Remus sighs “She hasn’t appeared yet” he knew you were probably catching up with your friends, they had both been away with their families travelling so you hadn’t seen them either…he’d never admit it but he was a tad jealous he wasn’t going to get to hug you first
“Oi” he’s pulled from his gloom by Sirius nudging him, pointing towards the door “Speak of the angel and there she shall appear” he grins, his point turning it’s a little wave at you and your friends
Remus lights up, heart warming at your shy smile and slight embarrassment when both Peter and James join in waving to you…in fact they couldn’t see but Marlene, Lily and Alice had all begun to wave as well. You grant them a small wave back as you head to find a seat, Amos joining you as he smiles at them, while Alex shoots a wink and a small salute, the former towards one particular marauder.
“Happy now?” James grins at his friend
Remus nods bringing his gaze back to you as Dumbledore starts his speech, he barely listens, doubting it’s any more interesting this year than it has been the last six. Instead he admires you, he’d missed you so much, more than he realised in fact, the boy couldn’t take his eyes off you. His gaze drifted across your features, while he noted your face did look a little hollow, his mind had other ideas, asking you if you had been eating properly could come later, but for now his eyes fixated on your lips as he daydreamed about kissing you, touching you, f…
“Ha…best behaviour for the youngins…” Sirius brings him back to reality, chuckling to himself “...that’ll be right?” turning his gaze to him, before he starts to grin “Moony missin’ her too eh?” he wiggles his eyebrows noting Remus’ blown pupils and guilty look
If he wasn’t already bright in the face Remus was scarlet now “Shut up” he grumbles trying to compose himself, face riddled with embarrassment but it softens as he realises your looking over
Hi, he mouths
Hi, you mouth back with a small smile before turning your attention to the front once more but somethings off, he can feel it
You felt awful, every bone in your body ached, and it didn’t help that your skirt's waistband was rubbing against last month's scar. You were grateful none were too visible, the biggest were along your waist and hips from the initial attack, though there was one other on your arm, it could easily be written off as a fall or cat scratch, the former being the one used likely use as it lined up with a real fall you had written to Remus about over summer.
Remus
You sighed as you glanced over at him, finding his attention had finally moved back to his friends, most likely plotting their first prank of the year. It was easy to pretend in your letters, thankfully he hadn’t come looking for you on the train but you knew you would have to talk to him eventually. Would he know? Would he be able to sense you were now like him? Would he see you as he saw himself? Would he think you a monster?
Am I a monster now?
“Hey…” you’re broken out of your gaze, a soft hand finding your shoulder, followed by your friend's kind smile “...are you alright?” Alex asks, knowing something is wrong, just not what
“You can tell us anything” Amos adds, smiling on your other side “You’ve been quiet” and he was right, you’d barely said two words to them since kings cross that morning
How do I tell them? you think eyes welling
“”Hey hey” Amos turns you around as you try to look away, making you face him “You don’t have to tell us…” he assures and you almost want to cry more, you had such wonderful friends “...but let us help you”
“Anything you need, sunshine” Alex’s smile grows into a smirk “We do hugs, skipping out on welcome feasts early, hexes…” that one makes you giggle causing the two boys faces to light up
“Think we could start with a group hug?” you look up at them, the welling tears dissipating as they waste no time wrapping you up in a warm embrace
“Love, wait up!”
You close your eyes, scrunching your face a little as you stop, trying to put on your best act as you turn back around to greet your boyfriend as he lightly jogs towards you
“Oh hi” you smile at him, playing dumb and pretending like you weren’t just trying to avoid him…again
Remus stops in front of you “I’ve been trying to catch you all day!” he laughs a little bit while you feel guilt swell in your stomach “Merlin I’ve missed you so much” he confesses right away
Dammit, you think, finding yourself folding as you stare up at those big brown eyes of his, it didn’t help that your new little wolfy self was acting up either
You’d noticed the heightened senses, your hearing was impeccable now, and you finally understood why Remus was so prone to irritation, you almost smacked poor Amos in potions earlier for stirring the cauldron a little too loudly. Turns out smell was no different either, Remus smelled absolutely divine, and your wolf earned for him.
“Bun?” he gently prods and your heart breaks…you weren’t his bunny anymore
The realisation causes you to crumble, almost knocking him over as you wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest
He chuckles at that, oblivious to the turmoil inside “I’ll take that as you missed me too” he returns the hug, nose finding your hair
Merlin you smelled great, more so than normal, your pheromones always drove him nuts around the full moon but it was on overdrive now, so much so he finds himself gently shifting, unable to resist waiting to kiss you in a more private location as he brings one hand up to cup the back of your head, while he uses the other to guide your gaze back towards him, but as he moves in he notices the slight glisten in your eyes
“Is something wrong?” he asks, large hands finding your cheeks
You freeze, you never wanted to lie to Remus, you never thought yourself capable, and perhaps you aren’t not truely “I…I wish I could’ve spent the summer with you” it’s not a lie…because if you had, things would be just as they were and nothing would have to change
His face softens to a downturned smile, his eyes looking at you with such love “You’re too sweet to me” he brings you back into a warm embrace “I promise we will next year” he tells you, and you squeeze him tighter
You might not want me next year
The next few days went slowly for both of you, you knew Remus had figured out you were avoiding him on purpose. Never before had you been so distant, especially before a full moon. It hurt so much, every time you crossed paths you wanted nothing more than to run to him, hold him, kiss him anywhere he was hurting but you couldn’t. You knew how the full moons affected your boyfriend, in fact you could feel it yourself, that desire to be close to the one you love, if you did go to his dorm as you normally did he would see the scars, he would see the bite mark, he would know you weren’t his sweet little bunny anymore.
You fell back on your bed, eyes glancing over to the clock, you would need to leave soon if you were to get deep enough into the woods. Your eyes started to water, you didn’t want to go, this was only your second moon and it was already unbearable
You had never felt so alone…
Remus was worried, you never came by to see him, it was so unlike you. These past few days had been so strange to him, he knew something must have happened, he also knew you hadn’t spoken to your friends about it as they seemed just as confused as he did, but whatever it was he couldn’t fix right now
“That's us set up” Sirius pokes his head in averting his eyes from Remus’ unclothed figure “I’m sure she has a good reason moons”
Remus only nods, waiting until Sirius closes the door before reassuring himself “She does…” he brings his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them “...she loves us…” he gently rocks back and forth whispering “...she loves us”
Meanwhile Sirius makes it out of the willow, meeting James and Peter as they hide their bags for later “How is he?” Peter asks, looking forlorn as he notices his friend
“He’s putting on a brave face but…” Sirius shakes his head handing his and Remus’ bags to James “...he needs her” he puts simply
“I don’t understand why she didn’t come” James says, feeling genuinely confused as he reaches up to tuck away the last of the bags “Even when they’ve been in a fight she’s always shown up”
“Something must have happened” Peter looks to James “Maybe tomorrow we could go talk to her friends, surely they know” he suggests
James nods, hands finding his hips “Yeah…yeah that sounds good” he agrees, nodding a little more than was necessary in his worry “Sirius that a plan?” he and Peter look towards their friend only to find him looking somewhere between confused and concerned “Sirius?”
After a few more calls and one branch thrown at him Sirius finally responds “I…ugh…look” he can’t even form a sentence, doing a double take at his friends as he points towards the lining of the trees
James and Peter's eyes scan the area, widening with horror as they see you running towards the tree line. The trio look amongst themselves, their eyes doing the talking as they shift, they didn’t have much time to question why you were out here on tonight of all nights but they follow you into a small clearing, watching as you hang your bag on one of the branches, opening it up as you begin to take off your clothes.
Sirius makes a quiet grunt for only the boys to hear as they grasp you are fully stripping down causing them to all look at him instead of you as they give each other confused looks. However you never make it that far, it’s a scream that causes their heads to shoot back in your direction and they watch an all too familiar scene
You did have a good reason for not showing up tonight…and it shattered their hearts
They didn’t have much time to dwell. Sirius jumps into action first, attempting to distract you from clawing at yourself, while James slowly approaches behind with Peter sitting up on his back acting as a lookout for Remus as if you turned he surely couldn’t be far behind.
You seem a little startled at first before stalking towards Sirius, you seem to note he isn’t scared of you, the boys watch as you calm, your body no longer tense, nor sensing you are in danger and so you let them guide you warily through the woods. In all honesty the boys had no idea what they were doing, they figured if you could sense that Sirius wasn’t a threat then maybe you and Remus would recognise each other as such as well…hopefully
As they came towards the clearing they could hear Remus as he whined in pain but the boys had no time to react as you already bolted off. Startled, they try to catch up, but as they move past the tree line they realise you’ve already made your way to him, growling.
Shit
They’re eyes flick between one another, worried they had made the wrong choice until they watch Remus relax, the two of you sniffing around each other before you begin to lick his wounds and it dawns on them that you weren’t challenging him, you were berating him for hurting himself.
The rest of the moon went by smoothly, the best the boys had ever seen and it was all thanks to you. By the end Sirius and Peter had managed to herd you and Remus back into the willow while James headed back to get your bag
“I can’t believe it” Peter says in astonishment, sliding down the roots to sit at the entrance beside James “No wonder she’s been acting off”
James hums in agreement, fiddling with the strap of your bag “She doesn’t deserve this…neither of them do” he states, sadness washing over him “Man…this gonna break him when he wakes up, he loves her so much”
“He does…” the boys jump a little as Sirius reappears from the willow “I didn’t want to go in fully for y/n’s sake...but I’ve thrown the blanket in that general direction and well…it’s not like they haven’t seen it all before” he makes a face, chuckling softly with the other two as lowers himself to the ground to join them as they decide to try and get a little bit of sleep
At first you didn’t know where you were, eyes opening slowly to survey your surroundings, you had expected to wake up in a ditch somewhere but not…wait. Your eyes widen, jolting up with a slight hiss as you look around, you were in the shack but if you were in the shack then that meant…
“Hey…” you jump a little at his voice, slowly turning to find Remus sitting just behind you, posted up against the wall, one leg half bent with his arm wrapped around it “...how are you feeling? Any pain?” he asks, strain evident in his voice, he looks broken and it kills you
You can only shake your head, slowly bringing the blanket up to cover yourself, shivering a little from the cold draft “Rem…” you say so quietly you’re not even sure you’ve said anything at all
“You’re cold” he states, wincing a little as he moves over to you, body still aching from from his own transformation “I’m okay, don’t worry” he assures, knowing exactly what you were thinking “Here” he pulls off his jumper “Hands up sweetheart”
You do as you're told, allowing him to slip the jumper over your head. He was being so gentle with you, like you might shatter at a single touch, it shouldn’t have surprised you but it did, he must have seen the scars, he must see you differently now…he must…
“Do you think I’m a monster?” you whisper and his movements stop, eyes meeting yours in shock
He blinks at you a couple times before letting out a confused “What?”
Your eyes mist “Do you think I’m a monster?” you repeat, gaze never leaving his
“No” he shake his head firmly, hands finding yours “Never” he says almost harshly, stunned you would ever think such a thing
“Really?” you eyebrows lift, hope and relief in your voice
His eyes soften, confusion washing away as he finally sees it, and a bitter sense of deja vu falls over him. Almost a year ago to the day he sat in your position, looking up at you, asking if you fought him, a monster. He even remembers trying to convince you he was but you wouldn’t hear it, you refused to believe he was no matter what he said. In the end he stil didn’t believed it, but seeing you now, looking at you from the other position he realised just how stupid he had been, how much his own self hatred had made you scared to come to him, made you hate yourself the way he had all this time
“Really” he promises “Is…” he hesitates, because he’s almost certain he knows the answer “Is this why you've been avoiding me?” he asks, one hand slipping out of your own to softly cup your cheek
You lean into it, eyes fluttering as your own comes up to cup it “Yes” you confirm and he nods, looking in though “I’m so sorry…I…” he cuts you off
“Don’t you dare” he warns “You aren’t turning into me, I won’t allow it” both hands are cupping your face now “You haven’t changed, not to me, okay? You are still my girl, still my bu-” but you cut him off this time
“But I’m not I-” you try to argue but Remus isn’t having it
“Stop” he gently shakes your face to regain your attention “You know why I started to call you bunny?” you shake your head “Because whenever you get excited you would do this little bounce, you do it when you’re excited to see me, geeking out about a new book and not to mention when we…” he blushes, stopping himself
You feel heat rush to your cheeks “Remmyy!” you gently shove him as you bounce a little in faux annoyance, causing you both to let out little laughs
“There she is” he smiles at you, laughing more as you become self aware of your bounces, getting all shy before him “Nothing you could ever do would make me think you a monster. I’m so sorry bun, I never want you to talk about yourself the way I have, understood?”
You hum in agreement, nodding “...but that means you can’t be cruel to yourself either” you challenge him, holding your pinky up at him as a small smile gracing your face as you do
Remus clicks his tongue, of course you would use this as a way to help him love himself as well “Fine” he promises, taking your pinky “…now come ‘ere” he moves back to sit against the wall once more, patting his lap as he hithers for you to join him while you chew on your lip a little, shyly accepting the offer and moving to straddle his legs
“There we go” he presses a lingering kiss to your hair, hands wrapping around you while your head falls into his chest “Better?”
“Much” you hum, savouring the moment before you lift your head “I suppose you must have some questions?” you wonder, hands finding his chest, fiddling with buttons of his shirt
“I do” he confesses, it was only natural “My attack is hazy for me now because I was so young…” he softly caresses your cheek “...but it’s fresh for you and I…I don’t want to pry, I can wait until you’re ready” he assures you
You take his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm “You remember I told you about my dads case? He was representing the family that was attacked much like you were?” you begin and Remus nods, hands moving to your hips, thumbs gently brushing beneath the hem of his jumper
“Yeah, in your letters you said they got them all and your dad was taking you up north to celebrate?” he recalls but then his lips part “They didn’t get them all did they?”
You shake your head “Turns out their was a much bigger player, someone else behind the scenes who was pulling all the strings” you explain, eyes falling down to his chest, this is going to kill him
“Love…” he tries to guide you back to him “...who…” but as your eyes meet his and they tell all
“Rem” you voice trembles a little
“Say it” he begs you
“Greyback” you whisper watching as Remus’ heartbreak sinks into rage, his grip on your hips tightening “Remmy…Rem…”
He doesn’t hear you say his name, everything around him fades as his anger grows. He never wanted to hear that name again, he never wanted to see that monster again but now? All he could think about was ripping him apart, taking away his freedom like he had done to so many, making him feel as weak and powerless as Remus had felt his whole life…how you would now feel your whole life
I’ll kill him
“Rem” you gently cup his face pulling back to you “Stay with me” you kiss him softly
His hands come up to meet yours “But he hurt you, cursed us to be in pain for the rest of our lives…and the worst part is he’ll be revelling in it all…that bastard…he…” his anger sinks into sadness at your comforting touch “he…” he pleads with you
“He did and we don’t ever have to forgive him but we can't let him take away anything else from us either. He won’t ruin our lives” you watch remus’ eyes soften and you smile at him trying to lighten the mood “Besides…there's always silver linings”
“And what would those be?” he tilts his head, struggling to see it
“Well…” you move your hands downward and kiss his cheeks “...if your senses are anything like mine I smell great” you giggle and he starts to smile, a loving gaze as he looks up at you “And perhaps more importantly…” you peck his nose making it scrunch in the most perfect way “...you’ll never worry about me during a full moon…” you nudge your nose against his “...and that fantasy you have of us living in your parents old cottage can be real, because…” you lean in close, lips grazing as your foreheads kiss “...you’ll never be alone again”
Remus’ heart feels like it might burst, you were right, there were silver linings. He had no idea what his life was going to be like after Hogwarts, he knew he couldn’t rely on his friends forever, nor could he have asked you to bear that responsibility alone, instead you and he would face it together, care for each other together…heal together
“Promise” he holds up his pinky
You smile against his lips, wrapping you own pinky around it “Promise” and with that he closes the gap
Thank you for reading ♡ (I promise my writing will get smoother again with time)
#remus lupin and reader#remus lupin and you#remus lupin and y/n#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin#young remus lupin#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus and reader#remus x reader#remus x you#remus x y/n#remus and you#remus and y/n#marauders era#marauders#robynsrequests#robbiesocs#werewolf reader#hufflepuff reader
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What do you think about Mumbo's art cam in the newer episodes?
I am personally still shocked like, HE CAN DO ART NOW? This man won't stop suprising me, I love it so much, also I don't see many people talking about that and I have no idea why because for me it's the best thing ever.
Anyways, hope you're doing good :D byee
the man does literally EVERYTHING.
when mumbo created @a.creative.junkyard for his art practice, only then I realized that he had literally been doing something like this for several years already. firstly for youtube, and after that he created many presentations of film projects to work with his clients, which already means a quite good basic skill in graphic design and especially the design eye.
still a big fan of his works from this account.
I love how he got creative with the start of season 10, using his skills to add some fun to the editing by creating new slides for his episodes. the way he’s sincerely passionate about creating such things, I empathically feel his joy.
mumbo started visualizing the whole stories through what he creates, and all the effort, work and fun is absolutely worth it. he may have had some small storytelling pieces before, but now it has definitely moved to another level.
the hand drawn concepts. if you look closely at the video, he strokes the colors manually. mumbo gets so immersed in the process when drawing these concepts, it feels therapeutic even. I always liked to see the concepts of the other hermit’s bases, that they drew by hand. since my main hobby is drawing, it always brings me closer to people on some other level when I see their drawings. as a big fan of mumbo, I’m so infinitely happy that he started to show this part of the process too. these concepts always add even more to the result, I don’t know how to explain it in words. just more. more sense of life from a story, from a building itself.
mumbo has knowledge and experience, but it's like he's been focusing on other aspects while building on the server before. in season 9, he started moving in a different direction more, and now it has achieved clear visible progress, he’s more actively experimenting and isn’t afraid to take on something that he has never done. now mumbo is even more confidently saying that he’s proud of himself.
this may seem insignificant to an outsider viewer, but
for a man who has been building redstone stuff and solid giant symmetry for several years in a row, it’s mind blowing.
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foolishness and all
summary: your boyfriend puts your love to the test when his heart is set on a certain unsightly purchase.
pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader
warnings: jar jar binks. not edited, i was laughing too hard.
wc: 1.8k+
a/n: this is the product of a very insane conversation that occurred in the middle of the night last night with @emmaisgonnacry, @lokis-army-77, and @emma-munson. forever sad we can't get the jar jar watch </3 (but at least emma got the darth maul one!) ((thank you for making me laugh until i cried last night, friends.))
“If you buy that thing, I’m breaking up with you.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m getting the watch.”
“And I’m getting a new boyfriend.”
You glare at your boyfriend for several beats of tense silence, narrowing your eyes as if it’ll do anything to change his mind. His heart is already set – there’s no stopping what’s about to happen.
“Edward Munson,” you stress, hand shooting out to hold his wrist, but he’s already whipping it out of your reach, “That thing is hideous. We’re shopping for a nice watch for Steve’s wedding, not that.”
“This thing has a name, sweetheart,” Eddie smiles toothily, tilting his head tauntingly at you, “And I think it fits the theme perfectly.”
“In what fucking world?”
You're whispering harshly now, trying to keep from causing a commotion in the middle of the store and garnering any more unwanted attention. The workers had given you strange enough looks when Eddie had first laid eyes on his prize, his little yelp of excitement seemingly startling them.
The less people who witnessed the atrocity on Eddie’s wrist currently, the better.
Eddie goes against that wish entirely, holding his wrist high in the air for the entire mall to see at this point, “In my world. He did say it was meant to be open for interpretation-”
“Not like this.”
“And my interpretation is buying this absolutely priceless Jar-Jar Binks watch.”
The thing looks down at you, almost as if it’s laughing at you just as Eddie was right now.
Part of you wonders if it’s all a bit – something Eddie noticed set you off, and he’s now making it into an entire catastrophic situation solely for his own enjoyment at your irritation. But part of you also knows that even if it is a bit, Eddie Munson will commit wholeheartedly to it.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke or not. He’ll be leaving this store as the owner of that watch, and the thought mortifies you.
“Please,” you finally resort to begging, feeling a bit childish as you give a pitiful hop to reach his wrist. It’s useless. He only stretches higher, shirt riding up to expose that strip of pale skin beneath the fabric. Your eyes catch on it momentarily, but you force yourself to not get distracted, “Eddie, baby-”
“Nuh uh,” he’s quick to shake his head, taking a full step back from you, “Nope. That baby shit isn’t working on me this time. I’m buying it. End of discussion.”
Fine. The sweet talk route didn’t work. That’s fine.
You had more than one weapon in the arsenal.
Before he can even think to step any further away, you reach out and hook your finger through one of his belt loops, giving a tug that further exposes the band of his boxers all while forcing him closer to you.
You’re back on your tip-toes, no longer reaching for the watch, but to let your lips barely graze over his as your whispers, “What if I ask you not to very, very nicely?”
That has him faltering. Complete hesitation as he takes a deep breath and visible gulp, arm beginning to drop ever so slightly.
“I would… I’d…” he trails off, clearly losing focus as your lips stay hovering just out of touch, “I’d probably… I-”
“Probably not buy it – right, handsome?”
And just as quickly as he’d fallen victim to the game you’d started playing, he’s pulled from it.
He leans back as far as he can with your finger still clinging to his pants, scrunching up his nose, “I see what you’re doing. Not fucking fair. It’s only thirteen dollars, anyway. I bet if Steve was here right now, he’d tell me to get it.”
“He wouldn’t!” you whisper-yell, giving up and pulling back as well, “It’s his wedding, Eddie. He told us to get something nice to fit in with the black tie dress code,” you can see him ready the argument of interpretation once more, and nip it in the bud, “No amount of interpretation can ever qualify the head of Jar-Jar Binks turned into a watch as something that fits into black tie attire.”
He’s not convinced. Not of the point you’re trying to make – no, you know he agrees with you and is just being a little shit at this point – but of not buying the watch.
“What if I just bought it?” he barters, “Maybe I don’t wear it to the weddin-”
“There’s no maybes about it. You can’t wear it to the wedding. You’re one of the groomsmen.”
He lifts his other hand just as the one adorning the eyesore finally drops to be eye level once more, “Fine! Fine. I won’t wear it to the wedding, but I’m still getting it.”
It’s a compromise. Or as close to a compromise as you and Eddie were going to get to right now.
With his wrist finally lowered, you can finally get a proper look at the thing. It’s Jar-Jar’s head with a band to mimic his skin, no clock in sight until it’s flipped open. The inside might be even worse though. Vivid font curling to spell out Jar-Jar, a light orange background with darker swirls, and the world’s smallest sliver of a screen to display the digital time.
It absolutely blows your mind that anyone thought it was a good marketing idea. But then again, people like your boyfriend exist. He was the intended audience, not you.
“It’s not even that cool,” you weakly still try to fight the losing battle, gingerly grabbing for the wrist this time with your free hand. Your finger hasn’t left Eddie’s belt loop, now resting comfortably in it, just growing fond of the closeness rather than weaponizing it against him.
And maybe as a way of keeping him from running up to the counter to complete the purchase. Maybe.
“It’s the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he proudly proclaims, right there in the middle of the Radio Shack, never having looked more satisfied with himself, “It can just be a conversational piece. I promise, I won’t break out the secretly evil little shit-”
“What?”
“Unless the occasion actually calls for it.”
“I’m sorry, can we go back to where you just called Jar-Jar secretly evil?” you ask, more perplexed than concerned at this point.
He was getting it. You were hating it. You had bigger wars to win with the man before you at a later date, surely.
His grin makes you regret asking, “Oh, you haven’t heard the theory about Jar-Jar being a Sith lord, have you?”
Your finger slips from his jeans, and your eyes nearly roll out of your head.
“Go buy that thing. I’m waiting in the car.”
“Wait, babe, no!”
“Nope. I’m not listening to this.”
You turn from Eddie to walk away, making sure he can’t see the corners of your mouth twitching with a smile you’re so desperately fighting, but it’s no use when he grabs onto your elbow to spin you back around.
“Eddie, I’m not-”
You’re interrupted with his lips on yours, an unexpectedly genuine kiss ensuing. The kind that reminds you why you’d ever deal with someone who wants a Jar-Jar Binks watch, the kind that reminds you why the occasional embarrassment Eddie purposefully puts you through in public is all worth it.
All the butterflies, all the sweetness, all the tenderness. The way his thumb traces over your skin as his hand stays wrapped around your elbow, the way his other hand comes up to cradle your cheek. You can still taste whatever sour candy he’d bought moments before walking into the store all over his tongue and lips, hiding his last cigarette from hours ago.
It’s a good enough kiss to forget the entire interaction that had just occurred.
When he pulls away, you’re a little breathless, all fluttering eyes glazed over as you look up at him, “What was that for?”
His smile could melt your entire existence. Turn you right into a puddle of all the love you struggle to contain, just for him.
“Just because,” he shrugs, but then he continues on, “And for putting up with me. Thank you for that.”
“I don’t put up with you,” you say immediately, and mean it.
Even when he’s being insufferable. Even when he’s still wearing the goddamn Jar-Jar Binks watch. You don’t put up with him – you love him. Foolishness and all.
Your finger returns to his belt loop, and this time, you tug him in for another kiss. Something short and sweet, something just because.
“You know,” he mumbles against your lips, arm wrapping around you so you can’t leave him just yet, “They have a Darth Maul one, too…”
Your hand comes up between the two of you, only a slight struggle, just for you to smack him in the center of his chest, “You can only have one, Munson.”
“We could match!”
“I am not wearing that thing.”
He throws his head back and cackles, a certain glee only born of being with the one you feel safest with flooding his features. All those wrinkles in the corners of his crinkled eyes, the stretch of his lips that bring on the appearance of dimples you could bury yourself in if given the chance. A boy made up of stardust and felicity. Your boy made up of every good thing that could have ever existed in this lifetime.
You’d rather bicker over the useless things with him a hundred times over than ever live a life without him.
“It’s fine,” he finally sighs dramatically, “I’ll just wear the Jar-Jar Binks watch to our wedding one day.”
Our wedding one day.
Your heart just about explodes, and the only thing you can do to not choke up is smack him even harder.
Our wedding.
It has a nice ring to it.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” you tell him instead.
There’ll be plenty of other moments to talk about that. Now, when he still wears the ugliest watch you’ve ever laid eyes on, is not the time.
“Gotta catch me first,” he teases as he slowly backs away, a twinkle in his eyes that makes you question if he knows how you’d secretly felt about that joke. That makes you question if he and Steve Harrington had really only been shopping for Steve’s rings for the last year.
He doesn’t even run to the counter, knowing that you won’t be chasing him. You’re content to stay back and wait. You’ll always wait on him, really.
Even if it meant waiting for the day he wore that goddamn watch on your wedding day, because at the end of it all, you’d probably let him. You’d even wear the Darth Maul watch to match if he insisted.
You’d let him wear whatever he wants, and you’d wear whatever he insists upon, because at the end of the day, it wouldn’t matter – it’d be enough to simply marry the dork that just tripped on his way up on the counter while giggling over a watch on his wrist, and know that he’s yours, forever.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin
@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87
@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck
@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking
@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore
@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog
@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp
@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies
@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo @findmeincorneliastreet
join my taglist!
#holy fucking shit i just love eddie munson so much#i'm actually eddie in this. i want the watch.#ghost's stories#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson one shot#joking one shots like this with him always end with me turning to mush at the end truly#it just reminds me why i love him#and why i love fandom at times#sorry to make you all have to endure the jar jar binks watch- actually im not sorry i WANT THE WATCH#also forever sad because i couldn't get the original photo i wanted of eddie to match. i wanted the deranged :D photo#just know that's the face he's making this entire one shot
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A Fool's Errand.
Yan Blade x F Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, alcohol mention/consumption, not SFW implications. Word count: 2.1k.
“Now that’s a scary look.”
Ice cubes clink together as you stir your drink, feigning an air of indifference. The warm pinks swirl in a hypnotizing display. Golden flecks catch the room’s sparse lighting, shimmering within the miniature whirlpool.
You return your focus to the reflection in your pocket mirror.
The countenance that greets you is both familiar and foreign. Color is infused into your lips, brushed along your cheeks, and blended atop your eyelids. It’d been a while since you had applied makeup, but the muscle memory kicked in eventually. After some touch-ups, you found the results satisfactory. From this vantage point, you can admire your décolleté, complemented by a dainty choker with a butterfly charm.
You can also see a pair of eyes staring back at you.
You clasp the mirror shut, wishing the shadowy apparition would disappear.
Instead, it creeps closer, footsteps echoing throughout the empty room.
You sip your concoction. It’s tart, with a splash of sweetness that soon fades into a bitter aftertaste. A hazy warmth swaddles your mind in a tight embrace.
Blade materializes beside you like a phantom coming to life. His presence is heavy and impossible to ignore, but you try your best. He’s frowning, almost glaring at you, the skin beneath his eyes wrinkled in displeasure. Your continued apathy does little to soothe the brewing tension.
This time, it’s him who breaks the silence.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“This is my third glass,” you admit. His eyebrows scrunch together. “I thought you’d come faster.”
“If you anticipated your failure, why bother?”
“I dunno. Curiosity? Boredom?” Your finger traces the drink’s rim. Suppressing a wicked smile, you add, “Maybe I wanted to find a date.”
For a fleeting instant, it’s like the room’s oxygen rushed out at once, leaving you to asphyxiate. Your eyes tell a different story — nothing’s changed, at least, not physically — aside from his pupils shrinking to a pinprick’s size. Faintly, what remains of your cognition advises against poking the beast. You’ve already done enough. In the coming days, you’re likely to regret this entire escapade.
However, your present self finds immense satisfaction in spewing petty jabs.
“Be mindful of your tongue, girl.”
Blade’s timbre is dark and gravelly. Shivers envelop your body, which you chase off with another hearty drink. His eyes follow your throat as you gulp the liquid down. They remain fixated there for an unnerving few seconds. Shifting around in your seat, it’s growing harder to deny the magnitude of who you’re dealing with. His suffocating favor doesn’t grant you absolute immunity.
You try reaching for another sip, only for him to stop you.
“That’s enough,” he says. His grip around your wrist tightens when you try wrenching it free. “We’re heading back.”
Heading back. To the life of a fugitive, forever on the run, wreaking chaos wherever he and his band of clairvoyant criminals set foot. It isn’t an alluring prospect. This brief stint has been the longest you’ve gone without constant surveillance. Even if it’s a fleeting illusion, destined to slip through your fingers, you want to hold on just a bit longer.
The alcohol flowing through your system further emboldens you. “You wanna end our date so fast?”
This little provocation seemingly accomplishes the impossible — it throws Blade off guard.
“‘Our?’” He repeats, the upward inflection uncharacteristic of his monotonous voice.
“I was lookin’ for a date and you happened to come along, so yeah, why not?” You say it as if it’s the most obvious thing. He blinks. “What? Am I not pretty enough?”
Blade’s lips part and close in rapid succession. He knows what you’re doing, you know that he knows what you’re doing, yet your flirtations still have a visible effect. His body’s gone stiff and his jaw’s set, like he’s concentrating greatly. You hear his leather glove creak as he clenches and unclenches his fists.
Leaning onto the counter, you look up at him through your eyelashes. “You must not like me after all.”
“That—” he exhales sharply, his subsequent words coming out in a low, measured drawl, “... You have until you finish your drink.”
While your mind slowly processes this information, he pulls out a barstool and sits beside you. You can tell he’s still disgruntled, yet you’ve established a temporary truce. For all the brutality he’s capable of, he's willingly domesticated the instant you offer a piece of yourself. A guard dog who requires no leash, for leaving your side is unthinkable.
This is what’s doomed you and posed as your salvation.
You break eye contact.
Outside, you hear the whirr of traffic through the bar’s thin walls. You’d already forgotten the name of the planet you’re visiting. It’s indistinguishable from most IPC-infected civilizations — intrusive advertisements carved in the night sky and menial work for the masses, who will never climb as high as they wish. The Stellaron Hunter’s prolonged presence is an ill omen for the oblivious populace.
If you asked, Blade would tell you what they’re doing here and what will become of the inhabitants.
These days, you find it’s best not to know.
“Why didn’t you try dating me, anyway?” You ask. An ice cube begins melting into the drink, losing itself. “I’ve always wondered about that. Who knows? I may have fallen head over heels for you.”
His answer comes surprisingly fast, slicing through the air like his weapon of choice. “I am not the sort of man you should be with.”
You whip your head in his direction, utterly dumbfounded. “Huh?”
“What you deserve… I can never give,” Blade’s eyes betray nothing of his inner thoughts. “It’s best that you never believed otherwise.”
The universe’s momentum slows to a crawl. You sit up straight, ignoring the wave of dizziness the abrupt motion inflicts, scrutinizing his visage. Dull emotions attempt to burst the pleasant buzz you've cocooned in. Their sharp edges push and push, testing the material’s durability. The lights flicker, unwilling to cast him in permanent light.
“If you care enough to consider all that, then why—”
Why rob me of normalcy?
Why take what made me into the person I am?
Why deprive me of my life to make what’s left of yours better?
He lets you down what remains of your drink. It burns as it travels down your tightening throat, washing away any playfulness that lingered on your tongue. Your stomach turns in on itself. Still, you lap up every drop, chasing after a numbness that can’t outweigh the grief. The act of pulling the glass away proves overwhelming for your frazzled brain. You sway, temporarily stupefied.
The cold leather of one hand and textured gauze from another steady your shoulders, keeping your body in place.
“Careful. You’ll only hurt yourself.”
You glare at him halfheartedly. “What’s it matter? Seeing me in pain obviously means nothin’ to you.”
He pauses, considering a response you’ll never be privy to, as he keeps his lips shut. Instead, he asks, “Can you walk?”
This questioning of your motor functions has you scoffing. Wordlessly, you hop to the ground, where you stay still, intent on keeping yourself steady. Despite your best efforts, your surroundings spin ever so slightly. The minimalist furniture of this automaton-run establishment blurs together. Heat flushes throughout your body, warming your cheeks like an internal furnace.
You overestimated your tolerance. It’s been a while since you’ve indulged — you should’ve considered that.
Your weak performance confirms Blade’s suspicions. He approaches you, raising his hands, likely to keep you secure like he had before. You dodge his unwanted advances out of reflex. This proves to be a mistake, as you lack the coordination to make any sharp movements. Your ankle gives out and your eyes fly wide open, arms flailing about for purchase.
Blade moves faster than you can process. You’re made to feel weightless as he lifts you up, holding you firm against his chest.
“Hey, put me down! I don’t— I can walk just fine!” You exclaim, writhing around like a fish out of water. Exerting a mere fraction of his strength is enough to render your struggle useless. Realizing that all you’re doing is tiring yourself out, you go limp, your breathing coming out erratic from the exertion. Humiliation prickles throughout like hot needles waiting to erupt from your flesh.
“Are you finished?”
You’re close enough to feel the low vibration of his voice. It rattles your bones, burrowing deep within the marrow. You express your resignation by averting your gaze. With that, he walks out, holding you in a bridal carry. Cool air nips at your exposed skin as he kicks the door open. It lets out into a back alley, where he must’ve skulked in from.
He stops here and gingerly places you down, muttering, “Lean against the wall.”
You do as instructed, though given your impaired state, you would’ve fumbled around for support without his prompting. He sheds his outer black jacket and drapes it along your bare shoulders. The fabric engulfs you, smelling faintly metallic. After ensuring you’re properly covered, he scoops you back up, maneuvering your body around like it’s weightless.
He follows the labyrinth-like expanse of alleyways, leaving the sounds and sights of the densely populated area behind. Not a word is uttered or a glance shared. You wet your lips, your mind racing for ways to break the tense silence. Blade’s always been a man of a few words, but this bout is different than what you’re used to. Heavier, somehow. Your actions have gone beyond petty defiance. Typically, you can gauge what nonsense you can and can’t get away with.
With this latest excursion, however—
—You’ve stumbled into uncharted territory.
“What now?” You ask, your voice unusually meek.
“You’ll be leaving this star system before long. We’re headed towards the pickup site.”
Your ears perk up at his word choice. “You aren’t coming?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve yet to fulfill my portion of the script on this planet.”
“... Oh.”
You can feel the look he sends your way.
“Does this displease you?”
“Ah, well,” you take a deep breath, finding the act of verbalizing your thoughts in this state difficult, “I didn’t think you… liked being apart.”
“My preferences are irrelevant. Kafka will ensure you’re cared for until I’m suited to be around you again.”
You furrow your eyebrows together, parsing through this information bit by bit. It’s like your mental faculties have been slathered with tar, slowing the gears in the mire. You’re only ever stuck with Kafka when Blade’s regenerating from significant injuries or dangerously mara-struck. You reflect on the evening’s events. The ease at which you snuck out, how it felt like the universe itself aligned along the way…
Ah.
You’re the ideal variable to tamper with when increasing (or decreasing) his mara.
It’s a gross feeling — this sensation of being used like a pawn to affect the performance of the board’s stronger pieces. Perhaps the inevitably of it all is why he isn’t upset with you, or he might be trying to delay the onslaught of mara. Whatever the case, you’ve inadvertently done your part for this script. Stirring the sediments of his shortcomings and shoving your dislike of him to the forefront.
Is this all you are? A side character in the epic Destiny’s Slave has penned?
You grit your teeth.
Using what little strength’s left in your muscles, you sit up, slinking your arms around his neck for support. Blade pauses, clearly more interested in your machinations than dropping you off like a package. He turns to face you. Though you’re nearly nose to nose, the night obscures his features, save for his eyes. The two blood-red moons have an otherworldly glow to them. Their gravitational pull is dangerous, yet you approach them as a willing sacrifice regardless.
A gentle graze of your lips against his is enough for him to stop breathing. You can do what his mountains of deceased enemies gave their lives trying to accomplish. He must know you’re up to something; his grip is nearly bruising from the restraint he’s exercising. You test his fraying resolve by allowing your lips to connect. It’s purposefully brief, ending before it truly began. Upon pulling away, he chases after you, but you deny him.
Blade sounds pained when murmuring your name.
Whether it’s a plea or a warning, you can’t tell.
“What?” You ask. “You’re the one trying to get rid of me.”
“...”
Blade leers down at you. You meet his stare, unyielding, drunk on the idea of inconveniencing the Stellaron Hunters to any extent.
"... Stay still," he eventually orders, backing you against the alley's wall. "Time is short."
You wait until he's nipping at your neck to smile.
#blade trying to decide which organ of his body to think with: 🤔#I LOVE HE!!!!!!!!!#blade x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#yandere hsr x reader#yandere x reader#yandere#reader insert#my stuff#blade brainrot
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cockwarming w/ san
words - wordcount? not round here, partner 🤠
genre - fluff, nsfw
warnings - stressed!reader, dom!san, sub!reader, subspace, guidance, soft!san (both him and his penis), cockwarming, clothed, san manspreading…
——————————————————————————
thinking about cockwarming sannie… am i absolutely feral? definitely! ANYWAYS!!!!
you’re sitting on the floor, glasses slipping down your nose as you stare at the documents in front of you
not many of then make sense, but that could just be the tediousness of reading them setting in and slowing down your weary brain
all the words are moulding into one and entire paragraphs are jumbling together as you desperately try and focus
you so desperately want to reach for your phone and give yourself a break
but you remind yourself that you’re just looking for distractions which is really not what you need when you’re struggling to focus anyway
so you start from the top, attempting to read the paper from the beginning
and you don’t get very far when you hear the front door open and your attention once again slips away from the paper
you turn slightly, just enough to see san step into the apartment and take his shoes and coat off
the way his shoulders sink in relaxation is visible and he lets out a long, deep sigh of relief at finally being home
your papers are almost forgotten as you watch him make his way towards the armchair in the corner of the room and take a seat
in fact, as he relaxes, spreading his thighs out until there’s a perfect you-sized gap between them, the papers are the last thing on your mind
“hi, pretty,” he croons as he shuffles to get himself comfy, “good day?”
you nod, mouth going dry at the way his hand naturally falls to rest just inches from his crotch, his pretty fingers flexing a few times before settling against his thigh
his beautiful, thick thigh that is almost fully exposed by those little gym shorts he insists on wearing
you stare at it for a moment or two, noticing the way it flexes slightly against the hem
his honey skin is still slightly shiny from the residual sweat of his evening workout
just the thought of him using his pretty thigh muscles to lift himself up from a squat is enough to send your brain into a dizzy haze
“looks like you’ve been working hard,” he smiles, head dipping to gesture to the pile of forgotten papers on the table, “is that research for your thesis?”
it is, you think to yourself, not that you’d actually learned anything from reading, sorry, trying to read any of it
“yeah,” you answer him, “but it’s all so boring than i can barely even look at it without wanting to die. i’ve been at it for hours and i can’t tell you a single thing i’ve read.”
there’s a pout on your face as you mumble out your complaints; you’re adorable when you’re all moody like this
“learning isn’t linear, baby,” he chuckles, “the fact that nothing’s sticking in that little brain of yours probably my just means you need a break.”
“i’d love a break,” you admit, “but i’d also love to get through this pile of research by the time we go to bed, so…”
“so… take a break and go back to it later,” san shrugs, “not like all that paper is suddenly going to grow legs and run away, right?”
you scoff at his sarcasm and the smug look on his face, but you know he’s right; you probably should take a break…
“but i know if i take a break i won’t want to do it anymore,” you say, although the excuse sounds weak even to you
“then do it tomorrow; it’s not like it needs to be done tonight, honey,” and he’s right, so you nod, and he smiles
but the feeling of stress doesn’t go away as you pile up the sheets of paper in the centre of the coffee table
and it doesn’t go away as you save your thesis draft and close the lid to your laptop
your shoulders are still very stiff, and your head is still feeling weary from just how hard you’d been trying to focus
even when you slip your glasses off, a physical weight lifting from your face, your brain doesn’t slow down
it just doesn’t let you settle like you and san so badly want you to
he watches you fidget with your surroundings, eyes flicking to the pile of papers every so often whilst your fingers drum against the table restlessly
he sighs; clearly you’re going to need some help with this
“baby,” he says softly; you look at him and all he can see is stress written across your features, “do you want me to help you relax?”
your eyes flick over to him, still manspreading in the chair and looking the the picture of masculinity itself
you know it wouldn’t take long for him to silence your brain; not when he already has your brain feeling a little on the foggy side
you nod, mumbling out a small ‘please’ that he can barely hear
“come here then, baby,” he pats the inside of his thigh with his palm, the sound ringing around the room, “come sit with me, yeah?”
it takes a second for you to register what he’s asking you to do, but when it finally does, you feel your breath hitch in your throat
he hasn’t closed his legs for you to sit on, and the hand that rests on his thigh doesn’t shift to make space for you
why would it when there’s already a you-shaped space between his thighs?
you watch as he reaches behind him to grab the cushion from the chair, pulling it out and placing it on the floor between his feet
you cant stop the soft whimper that leaves your throat
“come on, pretty thing,” he coos, “you know it’ll help you.”
and you do know that, you really do
it’s exactly the push you know you need to take your mind off of everything, and holy fuck do you want it
so you shuffle towards him on your knees, inching closer and closer to that spot that seemed to be just made for you
he smiles at you as he watches you settle in on the cushion, the plush material taking the pressure of the cold, hard floorboards off of your delicate knees
you shuffle around a little, trying to get comfy before looking up at him, wide eyes looking into his own
and he can’t help but brush a hand across your cheek, chucking as you lean into his gentle touch
“my precious girl, aren’t you?” he whispers, running a thumb over you cheekbone, “working so hard; you’re so good, aren’t you?”
he shifts his hand until two of his fingers press against your lips
you separate them to allow his digits inside of the warm, wet cavern; he can’t help but fill with pride when he sees just how good you’re being
the tips of his fingers slide to the back of your tongue, caressing it slightly until he feels your throat constrict around them
he pulls them back slightly, instead pushing them down on the centre of your tongue to make your drool puddle up around them
“just let yourself stop thinking, okay?” he says as he plays with your tongue, “you’re too stressed, baby, and it’s not good for you.”
he caresses your wet muscle with his fingertips; you let your eyes flutter closed at the sensation
“turn your brain off for me,” his voice is soft as he talks you down into an all-too-familiar headspace, “be good for your big boy, hm? let me take care of you.”
and with the combination of your position between his legs, the fingers in your mouth, and his pretty words, you find it so incredibly easy to just… slip away
any thought of your thesis is gone and replaced with san
the worries about finishing on time, and the concerns about the reading you don’t quite understand; san
everything is just… san
you let out a small sound as you push your head down onto his hand, taking more of his fingers into your mouth
the weight of them on your tongue was nice, you decide, but not quite enough
they don’t quite hold the warmth and heaviness that your tongue is craving
it’s not quite enough to completely ground you like you know you need
“you want more?” he always has been so good at reading you; you nod around his fingers, “want your big boy’s cock in your mouth?”
you moan at the thought, desperately moving your head up and down to tell him yes
“does my precious girl want to warm her big boy up? is that it?” yes, yes, a million times yes, “want to wrap your pretty lips around me while you relax, hm?”
he chuckles when you pull off of his fingers and sit there looking at him through your lashes with a slack jaw
so pretty, he thinks when you stick your tongue out and blink up at him through those fluttery lashes of yours
pretty enough that you have him wrapped around your pinky finger
he really would do anything to make you happy, and it seems that what would make you happy right now is him in your mouth
so he wastes no time in reaching for his waistband and pushing it down his thighs to reveal his soft cock
he takes it in hand and holds it out for you, waiting patiently as you lean forwards to press a kiss to his pretty pink tip
“no teasing, baby,” he taps the blunt head against your lips, “open for me. warm me up like a good girl.”
his voice is smooth and buttery, and it makes you want to listen
you open you maw, rolling your tongue over your bottom lip and waiting for him to feed himself into your mouth
there’s a hand at the back of your head as his tip makes contact with the pink muscle
the hand pets your hair softly as it guides you onto the cock, pushing you further and further down until your mouth is stuffed almost completely full
“breathe through your nose, baby,” san instructs you as he pushes the tip of his cock to the back of your tongue, “come on, pretty girl; i know you know how.”
you don’t need the reminder, having done this plenty of times before, but you still like the guidance he gives you in that low cadence
you like his voice, and the way he tells you what to do because he knows just how much you don’t want to think right now
you close your eyes as you feel your nose brush against the smooth, sticky skin of his lower stomach
his freshly shaved pubes prickle you, but that’s the least of your concerns when your senses are just overloaded by the comfort of your boyfriend
the smell of his cologne mixed with his natural musk settles in your nostrils filling you to the brim with the familiar scent of home
and the way he sits in your mouth, hot and heavy and full makes you melt against his muscular thigh like it’s your own personal pillow
his hand on your head threads its fingers through your roots, fingernails scraping against your scalp in the most comforting way imaginable
a deep sigh leaves your mouth; one of relaxation and contentment
san hears it and feels his body ease into the chair
“good girl,” he hums, “so good for me.”
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez smut#ateez fic#san fic#san x reader#san fluff#san smut#san oneshot
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Killing Me Softly
pairing: cassian x reader
[ part 2 ]
warnings: swearing, violence, blood, jealous themes, angst
summary: [based off that episode in greys were Mer got beaten by that patient who didn’t remember anything when they woke up]
—
It had started out as a normal fight.
Something small and fixable.
But somewhere along the way, things had snowballed and the playful Cassian you’d always known had disappeared before your very eyes. “You have a responsibility,” His tone is firm; slightly condescending and you can feel the attitude beginning to form when his arms cross over his chest. Cassian shoulders squared out, spine straight and wings pulled taut as he stood his ground. “The answer is no.”
“Cass, you’re not even listening. I told you I had this planned a week ago,” It comes out rushed, brows furrowed as you tried to meet something else besides that hard wall behind hazel eyes. “Besides it’s the med wing, they always have volunteers coming in to help—it’s just one date.”
“This really isn’t up for discussion,” His steely exterior nearly crumbles to pieces when he sees the way you visibly deflate, fingers grazing over the pretty dress you’d spent three days searching for with Mor and Cass had to pretend to be thrilled when you came barreling through his bedroom door with it in hand. You were beaming, smile so wide he thought your cheeks would split in two. “Now, go get changed.”
Guilt bubbles in his belly at the sight of you, jaw clenched tight and eyes blinking furiously to push back the frustrated tears; you had been really excited. You say nothing when you breeze past him, making sure not to touch him or make eye contact when you disappear back where you came and Cass doesn’t even need to turn around to know the way Azriel is looking at him. “Thought you said the med-wing was fully staffed? Easy day, you said.”
“Don’t even start.”
“It was just one date, she bought a dress and everything.” Az doesn’t buckle at the remorse that begins to scrunch at hard features, hands that clench and unclench at his sides as Cass battled a war that didn’t take prisoners. “If you won’t act on your feelings for her then leave her be so she can be happy.”
“Seriously, mind your fucking business.” Cassian all but snarls, golden eyes like burning lava when regarding his brother; the words hitting much harder than and punch. “She had a job to do and she’ll be here doing it. We don’t have time for stupid dresses and dates when people are dying.”
You don’t speak when you re-emerge in something more sturdy, medical equipment neatly organized in a bag that you held loosely in one hand. A whole folder of papers had been shoved in your grasp from a brooding General, inky hair flying away from his face when the wind cut through on his speedy departure. Frustration builds but you don’t allow it to overcome you, ignoring Azriel’s inquisitive stare, arms crossed over his chest and thick leathers hugging muscular thighs. “You okay?”
You sigh, gesturing to the stack of papers while you begin down the hall. “I’m busy.”
Times flows significantly slower now that you’re aware you’re missing something of importance; you’d really been looking forward to dressing up. Taking special time on your hair and the dark kohl that Mor insisted would make your eyes pop. The bittersweet daydream of what could’ve been is interrupted by the ruffled patient, his body covered in a serious of wrappings and notes near his side table on the tonics he’d been given—heavy duty sedatives and even stronger pain alleviants. Dosages so high there was no was he should’ve been moving, eyes blinking into consciousness and slurred speech stumbling from his tongue. “Where am I?”
“Sir, it’s okay just relax. I’m only here to help.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” Your hands are gentle when they reach out for him in attempts to soothe but it only makes him more agitated, arms whipping around wildly and his volume steadily increases. “Who are you? Why am I here?”
“Sir, please. If you just calm down I can explain—you were hurt, I’m only here to help.”
Rational thought and logic make no home in the frantic patients mind, his terrifyingly sturdy grip latches onto your shoulder. You’re jostled in close, bandages and antiseptic falling from your grasp and you only have time for one sharp yelp before his hands are wrapped around your neck. It takes alarmingly little effort for him to get to his feet, slamming your form down on the cot he’d been recovering in for days. Broken noises pull from your throat, nails scratching at his arms and face and whatever skin you can get your hands on, punching and kicking and reaching for anything to help and just as a black spots line your vision you finally get a good kick in, enough to push you from his hands and your body tumbles to the floor with a thud.
Deep heaving breaths pull from you, sucking in as much oxygen as your lungs will allow and tears you didn’t even realize you’d let out are streaming down the curve of your cheeks as you struggle to gain your footing, to get out of the room but hands are back around your arms. A broken cry fills the air when your face is shoved into the wall, heavy weight pushing you over and over until blood pooled from your temple and choked noises caught in your throat.
You can’t even remember when it stopped, a darkness overtaking you but even that’s abruptly ripped away from you for what feels like just seconds later. Someone screaming, strangled, pain filled shouts when you feel a set of hands on your body, lifting you from the floor and setting you on a cool table. “She’s awake,” You hear Madja firmly speak, hands quick yet sturdy when reaching into her bag to pull out medical grade scissors. “Anyone not necessary needs to leave.”
“She’s family, we aren’t leaving her.” Azriel retorts even stronger, leaving no room for discussion and you can feel the warmth of his hands on your own when he looks down at you. “You’re going to be okay, we’re here. We’re all here.”
You can’t even form words, eyes watery and panicked when darting between both of his own and the grip you have on his fingers when the healer pressed down on your abdomen is enough to have him barking at her for pain relief. “I can’t just give her things without a full assessment.”
“Assess faster—she’s in too much pain.”
Everything goes in one ear and out the other; you keep trying to speak, to beg them to please stop poking there and prodding at that bruise and asking if it hurt there, because it hurt everywhere. Broken whines pull from your throat, chest heaving and limbs trembling so hard the table shook. “I can feel three—no four broken ribs, collarbone fracture on the right side, shoulders dislocated on the right as well.” Madja begins, voice almost void of any emotion as she drifts from a person to a woman in charge. The High Lord in standing near your head, murmuring encouraging words while soaking in the information, a grim expression shared between him and the shadowsinger. “Damage to the brain is possible with such intense trauma to her head; two males had to physically pull the patient off of her.”
“Why would he even do this?” Rhys takes the warm cloth handed to him and gently begins to drag it over your forehead, trying his best to comfort you through the agony. “She’s harmless—she wouldn’t have hurt a fly.”
“It was the first time he’d been lucid since we’d found him; he doesn’t even remember what happened.”
Half a dozen more healers filter in the room with handfuls of equipment, eyes filled with worry when regarding one of their own but they quickly shake it off and step into line to assist. Azriel snarls at Madja’s words, stomach clenching in disdain at the helpless groans you let out, head lolling from side to side, tears treading trails into your hair as the pain overwhelms you.
Madja skims a knuckle over your jaw on accident when accessing the harsh bruising at your throat and the yelp that pulls is absolutely devastating. “Grab the restraints and hold her down,” The healer commands to the others, insisting they wrap them tighter while ignoring the deep shouts of the two males guarding you like their lives depended on it. “Her jaw is broken,” A heavy sigh pulls from Madja, dark hair tightly braided behind her shoulders. “—I have to set it and it won’t be fun so help me or get out of the room so we can do our jobs.”
Rhysand’s fingers are running through your hair, Azriel’s thumb rubbing soothing circles along the back of your hands and you feel the exact moment they both go stiff, heads turning to face the towering figure that stuttered to a stop in the doorway. “I’ll hold her arms,” The shadowsinger holds your arms with a firmness you hadn’t experienced from him before, soft apologies being whispered into your ears when your heart rate surges. “Cass, hold her legs. She needs to be still.”
The General doesn’t move, eyes wide and mouth hung open when he takes in your form. The clothes that were cut from your body, the countless amounts of thick gauze and medical towels soaked with your blood pooling in piles on the floor. Warbled streaks of crimson red is a stark contrast against the white floors; the smeared print of ten fingers and two palms drag along the wall, the small side table and the around door handle—you’d just nearly gotten away. “Cassian,” Azriel snaps, the rough tone ripping him from his trance. “Hold down her legs, now.”
The shock doesn’t wear off even if he does do as he’s told, golden eyes stuck on every bruise, ears painfully attuned to every whimper, every cry and gut-wrenching scream when your jaw was forced open, the bone shifting with a deafening crunch. “Please, please, please.” You barely get the words out; speech slurred, sweat lacing your forehead, body shaking so hard from the pain you couldn’t tell what was up from down. “Please, make it stop. Please, I’ll do anything—please stop.”
“Give her something!” Rhys snapped, wiping away tears and bracing you from moving around too much.
Madja scoffs, outnumbered and overwhelmed she calls for a tonic, allowing a higher dose than normal and your relief is instant. Deep cries fade to drawn out whimpers before your whole form goes eerily limp. “This will not be an easy recovery; if you think that was bad, just wait.” Quick hands make work of setting your shoulder with a sharp jolt and another healer is wrapping it in thick bandages to keep it in place. “Why was she even in here? The form specifically stated that supervision was required for this patient—she shouldn’t have been alone.”
“She shouldn’t have been here at all,” One of the healers muttered under her breath, hands quick and careful when tucking your hair behind your ear and dabbing your face clean of the blood that had started drying. “—she had a date today. I took this shift for her so she could go. She’s been talking about it all week.”
A silence fills the room and Rhys follows the sharp stare Azriel had trained on the General who’d been stuck in place at your feet. His hands shake where they rest near your calves, gaze seemly stuck on the socks you wore, fabric torn and stained in your own blood and he can just picture how hard you’d struggled trying to escape. Cassian says nothing, not when the others seem to catch on; putting together a piece of the puzzle in his silence—the shock that settles in every pore and the guilt that radiated from his burly form.
He only watches as they collect the soiled gauze off the floor, antiseptic filling the space when they begin to scrub your handprints off the wall, sweeping up the drywall that gave way from the pure strength put into smashing your body to pieces. “Four broken ribs,” Azriel’s voice is unnervingly calm when the last of the healers filter out, the door shutting behind with a soft click. “—a fractured collarbone; she was thrown into the wall so hard her shoulder popped out of socket.” Rhys takes a step forward, a hand raised to stop the shadowsinger but he’s sharply cut off, Az’s tone getting just a bit deeper when he stalks towards Cassian like predators did their prey. “He nearly shattered her skull—she’d be dead if it weren’t for one of the other patients. They heard her scream and found me.” Inky shadows slink around Azriel’s shoulders, but it’s the hand that pushes Cassian a step away from you that finally gains his attention.
“Azriel—“ Rhysand begins to intercept but abruptly pauses when the spymaster continues, fingers pointed at the leader of the Night Courts armies.
“You made her stay today because you were jealous.”
The High Lord goes still, violet eyes sliding from one friend to the other. “What?”
“She had a date and Cass was jealous because he has feelings for her and is too afraid to say anything.” Azriel can’t seem to stop once he’s started; such pure rage burning beneath his skin at the selfishness that resulted in such unimaginable pain.
“You think any of that matters right now?” Cassian doesn’t even sound like himself; no booming voice or need to make his point, no logical facts and carefully thought out points. He can’t even stop looking at you, eyes glassy and shoulders slumped when remembering what you’d looked like just two hours earlier. “I thought I didn’t deserve her before but now—after this? I know I don’t.”
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar#cassian#cassian acosf#cassian x you#cassian angst#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#acotar fanfiction#cassian fanfic#general of the night court
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The Deal
“Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi,” Palpatine said. “Learn to know the dark side of the Force, Anakin, and you will be able to save your wife from certain death.”
“What did you say?” Anakin asked.
“Use my knowledge, I beg you…” Palpatine pleaded.
“You’re a Sith Lord!” Anakin said.
He reached for his lightsaber, then paused.
“That story you told, about Darth Plagueis,” he said. “You mean – that was true? He really did discover a way to save people from death?”
“Yes, Anakin,” Palpatine agreed. “And I will-”
“So,” Anakin interrupted, frowning. “How do you know it? You said his apprentice murdered him in his sleep.”
“Because he taught everything to… his apprentice… before dying,” Palpatine explained.
“Again,” Anakin said, patiently. “How do you know it?”
“I was that apprentice!” Palpatine explained.
“So you killed your master in his sleep, and you ordered me to kill your apprentice, Dooku,” Anakin said. “You know, Chancellor, this isn’t a great job offer.”
“But think of what you have to gain, Anakin,” Palpatine said. “I can save your wife. Isn’t that what matters?”
“...yeah,” Anakin agreed, still frowning. “So when did Plagueis die?”
“About… fifteen years ago, now?” Palpatine said. “Maybe sixteen? Something like that. Why does that matter?”
“Just wanting to make sure I’ve got all the information, Chancellor,” Anakin replied. “Who have you been healing? Because I don’t actually think you’ve got any loved ones.”
He made a face. “Obi-Wan once took me aside and told me about what to look out for when an older man was going to try and touch me in the wrong way.”
“You see?” Palpatine asked. “He doesn’t trust you!”
“I see his point, though,” Anakin said. “Because you don’t have any loved ones that I can think of, like I say… so who have you been healing?”
Palpatine frowned.
“...why does that matter, Anakin?” he asked.
“Because it sounds like you learned how to do this at least fifteen years ago and you’ve never actually tried it,” Anakin clarified. “Which really sounds like you can’t do it, or even if you could before your medical license has expired.”
“I most certainly can!” Palpatine said, his patience fraying slightly. “Anakin, I am trying to help you!”
“Okay, then,” Anakin replied. “Teach me now.”
Palpatine made a face.
“If I do that, then how will I know you won’t betray me?” he said.
“...you’re saying that the only thing that would keep me from betraying you is if you don’t teach me the healing technique,” Anakin said, nodding. “So you’ve got no reason to get around to teaching me. I know how to lure an Eopie, Chancellor.”
“It will take too long to teach you, anyway,” Palpatine declared. “We can’t do it tonight. It won’t fit.”
“You’re really trying to help me, huh?” Anakin said. “Because all the visions I’ve been having about my wife dying are about it happening soon…”
He stopped.
“Actually, how do you know about that? I don’t think I ever told you.”
“Oh, please, it’s obvious that you’re married-” Palpatine said, rolling his eyes.
“I mean about the certain death bit,” Anakin explained. “It’s a bit of a guess.”
He frowned, visibly thinking. “And, uh… okay, so what you’re saying is that… you’re a Sith, you want to take direct control of the Jedi, and that’s because of the war against the Separatists, who were led by Count Dooku. Who was your apprentice… and then for me, personally, you want me to turn to the Dark Side so you can teach me a healing technique you’ve never actually used yourself, while you’ve killed the last two people who worked directly with you the moment they were no longer useful to you.”
Palpatine looked pained.
“That’s a very negative attitude, Anakin,” he said.
“I want to make sure I’ve got all this straight, is all,” Anakin replied.
Mace Windu’s commlink beeped, in a specific pattern that indicated it was a member of the Council.
“Windu here,” he said, raising the device to his ear.
“Master, I quit,” Anakin told him. “Also I married Senator Amidala at the start of the war, Palpatine was the Sith Lord, and I’d quite like to sleep for a week at some point. I’ve had a very long day.”
“...what?” Mace asked, a bit overloaded himself.
“Like, I’m pretty sure my day has had the sun go down three times so far,” Anakin went on. “Also the Chancellor exploded when I killed him. It’s okay, he was shooting lightning at me, that makes it fair.”
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Hanging By A Moment
Bayverse Transformers x Reader Blurbs
Word Count: 940 Warnings: None
Author's Note: I love TF so much. I miss it all lol -Thorne
**********************************************************************
Ironhide:
“This is…different,” she notes as she arrives into the darkened field; the veil of the moon blankets the land in an ivory haze, yet Ironhide’s sleek body is visible from even the edge. It’s remote enough that they don’t have to worry about being seen; she nears him with a curious look on her face. “Ironhide?”
His tailgate lowers and with a surprised expression that quickly gives way to a pleasant smile, she climbs onto the back, kicks her shoes off, and lays down on the makeshift bedding, resting her head on the pillow.
“Did you do this all for me?” she asks. “Aren’t you so sweet underneath all that firepower.”
“Have to treat my best girl, don’t I?” Ironhide teases back. “You’ve been working awfully hard lately. Even I know to take a break once in a while.”
She hums and curls into the blankets, almost feeling like they’re keeping warm and toasty. “No rest for the wicked, Ironhide. The Decepticons won’t wait while I rest.”
He grumbles, deep and low, and she can’t help but laugh. “Then you’ll rest, and I’ll kick ass.”
“Okay, bud,” she jokes, resting her head back on the pillow. “Take care of me while I rest.”
***
Rachet:
“When I said I wanted to spend some time alone with you, Rachet…this isn’t necessarily what I meant.”
His frame rumbles as he slows to a stop on the side of the canyon. “I can turn around, if you’d like?”
“You better not,” she warns and points a finger at the steering wheel. “You promised to take me out to the stars.”
She can hear the smile in his hum as he starts driving again. “When you mentioned you’ve always wanted to see the stars up close, I figured this would be the best I could give you.” He shifts back the roof, and her eyes widen at the expanse of bright stars above her.
“Oh my God,” she breathes, unable to help but stand up in the front seat, rising out of the rooftop. “Rachet, it’s…it’s incredible.”
He slows to a stop at the edge and stills. “It’s almost as incredible as you are. But somehow, their brightness can’t even come close to how beautiful you shine.”
Slipping back into the seat, she reaches forward and gently presses her lips to his steering wheel. “Thank you, Rachet. For doing this for me…for us.”
***
Bumblebee:
It’s almost one AM by the time they make it back into the city. Eerily enough, the roads are almost empty, and Bumblebee has a straight shot back to the facility, but he passes the particular highway that leads to it.
She notices from her sleepy haze in the passenger seat. “Bee? You missed the turn.”
He makes a noise that she recognizes as his answer of “Yes.”
“Where are we going?” she’s not worried in the slightest, knows that Bumblebee wouldn’t ever take her somewhere she could get hurt; she’s still curious though.
“Don’t worry about it,” a voiceover from a TV show filters through and she snorts tiredly.
“Alright, Bee, keep your secrets.” She shifts in his seat and reclines back, unable to help but trace the threading in the console. “You takin’ me home, Bee?”
“Take me home tonight!” he sings, and she smiles, gently shutting her eyes as the streetlights still shine across her face as they pass between shadows.
“I’m happy, Bee,” she murmurs. “You know that? I’m always happy with you.”
He’s silent for a long while and she wonders if maybe he didn’t hear her, but it doesn’t bother her as she curls up in the passenger seat and begins to drift off, only to hear quietly through the speakers, “I’m living for the only thing I know. I’m running and not quite sure where to go. And I don’t know what I’m diving into, just hanging by a moment here with you.”
***
Optimus:
“Sorry about the rain, Optimus,” she murmurs as they take shelter in the rundown warehouse. “I can’t imagine it’s going to let up…we’ll be here for a while.”
She watches as steam begins to flow from his body, fans in his processors blowing until the water is simply droplets here and there.
“That’s handy,” she jokes, and he meets her gaze with a smile.
“While rust isn’t a big a worry to myself as it is Ironhide, I’d rather not take any chances.”
She nods and takes off her jacket, wringing it out. “It’ll be dark soon. We should set up a perimeter.” The echoing of his transformation sounds in the warehouse, and she looks up. “Optimus?” His door opens and closes a few times until she gets the hint to climb in.
As she enters, the cab opens, and she slips further inside. It’s smaller than she imagined, given that outside he’s much larger but she assumes he’s somehow made some room for her. It’s a small bedding, smaller than a door, but enough that she can curl up on it, propping her arm under her head. She’s about to say it’s cold when the fans blow again and fill the cab with a warmth that feels like she wrapped herself in a blanket straight out of the drier.
And he knows it too as he asks, “Comfortable?”
“Mhm,” she murmurs and scoots back until her back is against the wall of his cab; it feels good to have him at her back, safe and secure. “I think I could lie here forever.”
“When there is peace, my spark,” he says. “We will lie forever.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” and she knows his words ring with truth.
#transformers bayverse#bayverse transformers#bayverse transformers x reader#transformers x reader#ironhide x reader#ironhide#rachet x reader#rachet#bumblebee x reader#bumblebee#optimus x reader#optimus#optimus prime x reader#optimus prime#transformers
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angel’s fulfillment challenge
welcome to the unofficial official challenge of angel’s vault ☆
i’m going to say this now, this isn’t going to be some crazy, different thing. this is literally how the law works lol but i say challenge because it's for those who see them as fun, want to be disciplined and set the tone for the new year! (or whenever you’re reading this)
𝐈. the point of this challenge is to…
fall in love with imagination
enjoy fulfilling yourself
get your desires duh
stop over consuming and apply no matter if you think you need to know more.
𝐈𝐈. important guidelines!
read this post to get a gist of states because this is what this challenge is about. fulfilling yourself in imagination. you don’t need to read it every time to know you’re doing it right, this challenge will do it all for you.
affirmations and visualizations are techniques so what is your way of thinking that feels comfortable to you? sometimes you don’t even need it. for me, i mostly need to feel that i already have it. have fun, experiment with daydreams/scenes, affirming and/or feeling. it doesn't have to be the same every single time.
𝐈𝐈𝐈. steps
choose what you want. go crazy. do not condition your desires. you are limitless. if you can see it in your mind, you can have it. famous? nepo baby? money? db, df? better self concept? gender revision? time change?
decide right now you are the person who already has what the want. so guess what? there is nothing to get because you already have your desire. manifesting money? you already have it. manifesting an sp? you already have them. manifesting your dream life? you already have it. that is your state.
fulfill yourself every chance you get in the day. no you don’t have to lock yourself in the room to affirm/visualize/feel all day. no you don’t have to be in the state all day, you are always passing through states but remember, the state you constantly make your dwelling place MANIFESTS. so make an effort to return to it as much as you can and want to.
ideas: do it in the morning when you wake up, in the afternoon, whenever you have free time like on your bed, going home, walking, during class and before you go to sleep.
bonus: do this meditation by edward art daily, it's not mandatory. it's not like all the other meditations, give it a shot. get off tumblr, stop over consuming
make it fun, it’s not a chore! have fun daydreaming/visualizing you shopping with all the money you got, getting compliments from people on how they’re so amazed at how successful you are, have fun complimenting yourself in the mirror while you repeat affirmations, have fun looking around and going “yeah, i literally have ____” sounds nice and fun? because it is. manifesting is simple.
4. get your desires. there is no deadline. i hate that shit 😭 srrynotsrry, that would be contradicting the law and this challenge. you already have it, you’re not getting anything on a time crunch. not no 3 days, not a week, not two, not a month. THERE IS NOTHING TO GET WHEN YOU HAVE IT NOW. ONLY NOW.
challenge summary:
YOU ALREADY HAVE IT!
𝐈. why should you fulfill yourself?
because when you fulfill yourself in imagination, you are changing self. and what is a reflection of self? the 3D.
it’s not your job to make things physical. your job is to change your mind.
focus on yourself. there is nothing to change or to get in the 3D because it’s nothing but a mirror that shows/proves you right in what state you identify and dwell in.
“Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.”
“I AM wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, free, confined were first of all impressions or conditions felt before they became visible expressions. Your world is your consciousness objectified. Waste no time trying to change the outside; change the within or the impression; and the without or expression will take care of itself. When the truth of this statement dawns upon you, you will know that you have found the lost word or the key to every door. I AM (your consciousness) is the magical lost word which was made flesh in the likeness of that which you are conscious of being.”
𝐈𝐈. additional tips
doubting? let it pass. don't give it power. why are you doubtful if it's going to come or if the law works when you have what you want right now? if you're dwelling in doubts then you're not being the person who has it.
worried about when it's going to come? that doesn't make sense because you literally have it right now lol
want to ask a question? why? you literally have it. what's there to ask? try asking yourself first.
simple.
have fun, angels. remember that YOU ALREADY HAVE IT. send me your successes in the inbox!
signed, angel ☆
#manifestation challenge#neville goddard#edward art#manifesting#law of assumption#challenge#self concept#wish fulfillment#manifestyourreality#how to manifest#manifestyourdesires
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love me like you paid me - co-written with @marvelouslizzie
Summary: You accompany businessman Bucky Barnes to all the events he has to attend, and you find yourself wishing he wasn’t paying you to be his date.
Pairing: businessman!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, age gap (the reader is 24, Bucky is 34), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, nipples play, oral sex, clit play, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), cursing, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 11K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: @marvelouslizzie and I had a great time writing this story, and we really hope you will, too, while reading it.
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
> I think I'll be late for a couple of minutes, I am very sorry. You can go inside, you just need to say your name.
You look at the text he sent you once again, to make sure you didn’t miss any details. The thought of going inside alone spikes up your anxiety even though you never met him before. Everything looks so fancy, and you are already feeling out of place.
So you decide to wait. It's better for appearances, anyway. You didn't properly establish the context of you being his plus-one before, and you don't want to make mistakes.
And it doesn't even take a long time. He arrives just five or six minutes later. You watch him get out of the car and look around before your eyes finally meet for the first time.
"I am so, so sorry for being late. But why are you standing here?" He says awkwardly looking at you from head to toe twice as he starts arranging his suit jacket.
“I thought it would be better if we go inside together. It wouldn't look too convincing if we came separately.”
He nods. "Smart. I'm sorry, I'm..." He pauses, unsure, and extends his hand. "You're very beautiful, thank you. I'm Bucky."
You offer him a smile while extending your hand and giving him your name. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself.”
He snorts. "Not thanks to me."
“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"I meant my stylist." He explains, freeing your hand.
“Oh.” You feel awkward. You didn’t even think about that. “Yeah, but you are carrying it well.”
You see his cheeks getting red. "Thank you. Shall we go inside?"
“Yeah, of course.” You offer him your arm.
"I think I should be doing that." He does the same thing.
You feel so embarrassed for a second but take his arm anyway. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“Don't be sorry." He gives the man at the entrance a smile before saying your names, and in no time, you are led to your table.
You take a look around, trying to be as subtle as possible. It’s even fancier than it seemed when you were waiting for him outside and people seem to know one another as they greet and talk to each other. You feel a faint pain in your stomach.
"You know… in case someone asks you, my three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas."
“What?” You feel so lost.
"My three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas." He repeats this expired joke he read online at some point. "You know, eating my family and eating, my family."
You suddenly snort, not expecting him to make a joke like this.
"I guess you can smile, and what a beautiful smile you have." He pauses and scrunches his nose as soon as he finishes the phrase. "I don't mean to be you know... I am not trying to...."
“You are not trying to what?” You’re still smiling because of his dad joke, totally unaware of why he’s trying to explain himself.
"To make you uncomfortable or something. I just wanted to help you feel better. I am surprised, though. Usually, models feel a little less nervous."
“Model?” You repeat, visibly confused. “I’m… I’m not a model.” Did they tell him you were a model?
"Oh, it explains the height." He lets out a deep breath.
“The height?” You can’t believe he actually said that. Like your height isn’t good enough for his standards. Probably, you aren’t good enough for his standard since you aren’t a model.
"Oh god, no." He groans. "That sounded terrible. I meant, models usually are very tall and look... different. I told them I don't want a model, but my team didn't quite listen. That’s why I said that."
“So you aren’t the one who specifically wanted a model?”
"God, no." He shakes his head. "I actually chose you." He scrunches his nose again. "That sounds even more terrible."
“I know you chose me. How do you think they found a photo of me to send you?”
Bucky snorts. "I should shut up."
“No, no. I mean…” You lower your voice a little to make sure no one hears you. “I was aware of what this is when I said yes. It’s fine.”
"I am making a fool out of myself, I am sorry."
“No, you are not. It’s actually helping me to relax because I was really worried about…” You stop yourself right before saying something stupid.
"Did I seem intimidating?"
“Yeah.” You quickly accept it because his choice of words is much nicer than what you were originally thinking. You expected him to be a pretentious asshole. Instead, he seems like he’s just as nervous as you are.
He smiles. "What would you like to drink?"
“White wine is fine.” It seems like a safe choice.
"I love wine." He smiles. "And to be honest, it’s the only thing I drink at those events. Oh, and champagne, of course."
“That also works, but I can’t have too much.”
"Want to order food before?"
“No, not because of that. I have an early work meeting tomorrow.”
"Oh, we can leave earlier." He immediately offers. "I don't stick much around usually, anyway."
“That’s not necessary, we can stay as much as you want. I’m already prepared for my meeting. I just don’t want to seem unprofessional tomorrow by looking like I have a huge hangover. I kinda need it to go well.”
"What do you do if you're not a model?" He asks with a smile, genuinely curious to find out more information.
“I am running my own bakery.”
"That sounds so awesome. Family business?"
“No. I actually started it pretty recently. Still learning how to manage a business and get clients.” You suddenly stop, feeling self-conscious. “Sorry. That must sound really silly to you.”
"Silly?" He tries to tuck back a few strands of his hair as he looks at you. "I want to know more. If you want to share of course. Maybe I can even help. I know how hard it can be, especially when you don't have experience. Do you have a partner?"
“No.” You can’t help but smile because he seems genuinely interested. “I’m doing it by myself. Or rather trying.”
"Wow, that must be exhausting and challenging. Do you have employers? How new..." he stops mid-sentence when the waiter comes. "Can you bring us some white wine, please?"
"What kind?"
You watch him as he casually orders a specific brand, then his eyes meet yours again. You realize he’s actually waiting for your answer. “I have one person that works with me.”
"Paying a salary must be hard."
“Yeah, money is kinda tight.” That’s the whole reason you accepted being his date tonight: you want to be able to pay Nicole’s salary, but you don’t say that.
"I'm sorry." He sighs. "Maybe I can help, though." He thinks about a donation or something, but he doesn't even know you or your business.
“You already are. Don’t worry about it.”
The waiter returns with the wine, asking you if you want to taste it, but Bucky gives him a polite smile after looking at you. "Thank you, but no need."
The man nods and starts pouring slowly.
When you taste the wine, you understand why he specifically asked for this one. It leaves a really gentle after-taste on your tongue.
"Do you like it?" He asks nervously as he takes a sip himself.
“Very much. Probably the best wine I have ever tasted.”
"I am so glad to hear that. But did you eat anything before coming here?”
“Ihm… No.”
"Then we should order. Excuse me," he calls the waiter again with a hand gesture.
While he is ordering food, you find the perfect moment to stare at him. He’s speaking in a way that shows he belongs here. He is kind yet commanding. You focus on his face and watch a strand fall on his forehead. He doesn’t pay any attention to it, just gently pushing it back, but you find yourself taking a deeper breath. His lips are full, his smile is gentle and his eyes are curious. That’s when you notice he is actually talking to you.
"Do you have preferences?"
You shake your head. You have no idea what preference he is talking about, but even if you did you are sure you would have no idea what to order in a place like this.
"Do you trust me with this?"
“Yeah.” You quickly answer to cover the fact that you weren’t paying attention to his food choices. “Just no sea food, please.”
"Of course." He nods and turns his attention to the waiter again. "The same for her, please. Also a bottle of water."
*
It's already pretty late, and it's clear neither of you has much energy left, but you can't interrupt this conversation. You are trying to listen so you can be prepared if they ask you something.
"I agree, the market doesn't look good, but let's see if something changes once they apply the new policies," he says looking at both of you for a couple of seconds. "It's hard for new businesses, unfortunately."
You take a deep breath, knowing what he says is true and how it affects you. Still, you don’t comment on anything, just watching them.
Bucky leans in, laughing politely when the man cracks a bad joke, and you notice how a few hair strands fall on the side of his face and forehead.
Before your mind can register what you are doing, you find yourself leaning towards him and pushing the hair back. Then you notice what you’ve just done and freeze. Your hand lingers on his hair.
He freezes too, mid-sentence, and looks at your hand, his neck getting so red in just a few seconds.
"Oh, look at that. Your girlfriend is taking good care of you." The man in front of you teases.
“I’m sorry.” You try to retreat your hands as gracefully as possible so it won’t look suspicious. His hair is back in its place.
"Don't apologize." Bucky smiles, taking your hand into his. "She's always shy in public."
“I forgot for a second we are in public.” That’s not a lie. You really forgot your surroundings and how you were supposed to behave.
"What a beautiful girlfriend you have, Barnes."
You can feel your cheeks burning because of his words. You are not his girlfriend obviously, but will he point that out?
"She's also incredibly smart. You know, she started her own bakery a few months ago in this crazy market."
“Really?”
"Yes, with no help either. I'm really proud of her."
Did he just say he’s proud of you? Jesus christ…
“That doesn’t surprise me at all. You know why?” He’s directly asking you that question, and you just shake your head as in no. “Because he started his own company, probably around your age, too.”
"Michael..."
That you didn’t know. You had no idea how he got this rich, and hearing that makes you feel more hopeful.
“I’m just saying.” The man continues. “I can see why you like her. And she’s pretty lucky because she can get the best investment advice or tips on how to run a successful business from you.”
"Oh, trust me, I am luckier." He gives you the warmest smile you've ever received.
You have no idea what to say or do. Should you act like his girlfriend? Should you just smile and nod? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? You should return the compliment. You would definitely do that if he was your boyfriend.
“Oh, I know how lucky I am,” you say with a smile.
Bucky takes a quick look at his watch. "Alright, I think we need to go. Tomorrow is a long work day. Hope you don't mind." He shakes Michael's hand.
"It was nice to see you."
You are glad it’s finally time to leave. You were getting worried about how much longer you would have to stay here. Not because of him. Bucky seems like a perfectly nice guy, but this fancy place makes you uncomfortable. You gently smile while shaking Michael’s hand and take Bucky’s arm.
"Have a good evening. It was nice to meet you."
“It was nice meeting you too, Michael.”
"I'm sorry for that. Took too long," Bucky whispers in your ear.
“The event isn’t even over yet. We are leaving early.” He shouldn’t have to say sorry for something you agreed to do.
"Is it okay if we drive you home?" He gestures to his driver who's pulling in. You didn't even realize when he texted him.
“You don’t have to, I can take a cab.”
"At this hour?" He puffs. "Not in a thousand years. My driver can drop you off." Bucky offers instantly. It's clear he won't let this go.
“Only if it won’t be a bother…”
"Of course not." He gestures to his driver. "I want you to drop the lady off and make sure she gets inside safely, please. I'll take a cab."
“What?” You didn’t expect him to take a cab. “No, I can’t accept that.”
"Please. Also thank you for tonight, I am really grateful and I enjoyed having you here."
“Bucky…” You stop for a second, feeling hesitation over using his name. “Can I call you Bucky?”
"Of course."
“Bucky, thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You are a gentleman, but I can’t take your car. I thought you meant dropping me at my place on your way home.”
"I thought..." he pauses. "You felt uncomfortable around me and that's why you refused the ride."
“No. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you?”
He smiles shyly and opens the door for you. "Alright, then let's go."
You really don’t know why he thought that and it bothers you. While you take your seat, you decide to apologize for what happened in there. Maybe that’s why he felt uneasy.
He looks absolutely confused when you actually say the words. "What?"
“I am just really sorry about what I did back there. I don’t know what came over me.”
"What did you do?”
“You know… Making you uncomfortable by fixing your hair.”
Bucky can't help but giggle softly. "Why would you apologize for that? That was very thoughtful, thanks."
His giggle catches you off guard. “I thought… I crossed a boundary.”
"No, not at all. Sorry for the boring conversations."
“It wasn’t that boring. I actually learned a couple of things.”
Bucky smiles. "Did you? Not surprised, you're a businesswoman after all."
“I try to be.” You smile back even though you are feeling kinda sad that your time with him is about to end.
"I think you have a big potential. You control your emotions very well. You are smart and know how to enjoy good wine." He gives you a playful but innocent wink as he says the last part.
“And now I know you, so I can ask for business advice.” You repeat Michael’s words very poorly.
Bucky nods. "Of course. And you know maybe I can help... with a donation."
“A donation?” You really didn’t mean to sound that offended, but you are.
He frowns. "Yeah, I really think you got potential in business and it's hard when no one helps you."
Talking about money always bothers you. Getting paid for going out with someone already feels wrong enough, but the way he walks about it makes you feel worse.
“Can we…. not… talk about this?” Your discomfort is much more clear in your voice than you realize.
"I-Of course, sorry if I bothered you," he immediately says apologetically.
“Talking about money like this bothers me and… just to be clear, I don’t want any help.”
"I understand. I wasn't trying to intrude."
You offer him a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.
"I'm really so-"
"Is this the right address?" The driver interrupts Bucky all of a sudden.
“Yeah, it is.” Your answer comes instantly.
"Perfect."
“Thank you…” You stop for a minute realizing you don’t know his name. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name before.”
"Noah."
“Thank you, Noah.” Then you turn to Bucky. “And thank you for tonight, Bucky.”
"Thank you." You give him one more smile before opening the door. "Wait."
“What?”
"Are you free on 18?"
“I… think so. Why?”
"I have a proposal for you."
*
As the 18th comes closer, you get more worried about what to wear. You used your fanciest dress at that event and now your options are pretty limited. You search your closet and try to think of a friend who would let you borrow a dress. That’s when you finally see that simple black dress. That might work. When you put it on, your feelings are conflicted, though. It looks good on you, but it doesn’t seem good enough. You are not completely sure about how fancy this event is. Maybe… maybe you can ask him.
< Hey. Sorry to bother you but how fancy is this event?
> Hey, no bother. Like the one we attended.
> Why?
< I’m not sure about my dress. Is it okay if I show it to you? I don’t wanna be underdressed.
> I am sure that's impossible but of course.
You send a mirror selfie, showing your dress.
>You look very beautiful.
>The dress is absolutely amazing too, but it's a black-tie event. Would you consider me disrespectful if I sent my stylist to you?
< Thank you.
< No, of course not. I need help. I would appreciate it.
> Gonna send Lila a message and then I'll give her your number if that's okay.
< That’s perfectly okay. Thank you and again sorry to bother you with something like this.
> You don't bother me.
> I mean it.
< I know you are busy. That’s what I meant.
> Well, I am sure you are very busy yourself.
> How is the bakery and how was the meeting?
< I’m done working for the day. So I get to worry about the dress I’m gonna wear.
< The meeting went well but I didn’t hear anything from them yet.
> I hope it was a full day.
> I mean with many clients.
> And I hope they will give you a call.
< It was a tiring day. How was yours?
> Tiring, but productive, thank you for asking.
> Lila will call you in two minutes. She's a nice person. She manages to make me look decent every time.
< You look more than decent and I don’t think it’s all her doing.
5 minutes later
< Talked to Lila. We go shopping tomorrow. Thanks again for the help.
> Don't thank me for that. My pleasure. Have a good evening.
< You too.
The next day, you meet Lila and go shopping together like you agreed. She seems like a fun person and definitely understands your style. Her suggestions are great. but the only problem is the cost When you notice the price tags, you want to leave, but she assures you that it is all taken care of. That’s when you realize Bucky Barnes is paying for this shopping trip. You feel dumb for not thinking about this while talking to him. That’s why he was guarded when he offered help. That usually restlessness creeps up on you because you don’t want his help like this, but Lila convinces you that he is the reason you need new dresses anyway. And it is true. He is dressing you so you look the part. That eases your anxiety and finally, you are able to enjoy your dress hunt. When you come back home, you are completely exhausted but ready for any event he might want to take you.
*
> Hi
> How are you?
< I’m good, getting ready. How are you?
> I am good too.
> I was wondering if you mind me picking you up...
< You wanna pick me up?
> Yes. I might need your address again, though.
< Noah doesn’t remember?
< I am picking you up.
Oh.
> You should say no if you don't want that.
< No, why wouldn’t I? I just didn’t think you would come without your driver for some reason.
> Do you want me to come with Noah?
> I can.
< I don’t need someone extra to feel comfortable around you, Bucky.
< It’s up to you. Whatever you wanna do, I will be fine with it.
> Perfect 🙂
> 7:30 or 8? We should totally skip half an hour.
> So boring
< That emoji makes me feel like I did something wrong and you are being kind.
< Both are fine by me.
> See you at 8 then 😁
> Since you hate the other emoji
< Oh this one is much better.
< See you at 8. Leave your overthinking hat at home.
You quickly send him your address.
> Thank you
*
The evening comes even quicker than you expected. He picks you up alone and you have a great conversation on your way to the event. He gives you some pointers about it and the people you will most likely have to talk to and warns you that it’s gonna be boring. And he is right. It is even more boring than the first one. A lot of speeches and conversations with people you don’t know. You try to stay composed and play your part, trying to hide the fact that you are bored as fuck. Bucky comes to your rescue with a fun game. He makes funny comments and on-point jokes before and/or after you talk to someone. His observation skills are extraordinary. He notices stuff that you wouldn’t normally remark. Like a missing wedding ring, so he knows not the mention their spouse during their conversation. He whispers into your ear and makes you laugh the whole night. Hearing his voice that close, and feeling his breath on your neck drives you crazy. Does he know the effect he has on you? Is he doing it on purpose or is he just trying to pass the time as pleasantly as possible? You don’t know. Just like the first event, you leave a little bit early. He drives you back home, offers you a warm smile, and mentions when the next event will take place. You just nod in agreement, already looking forward to it.
*
> Friends or The Office?
> Also hi
< The Office. Love how intentionally awkward it is.
< Hiii back.
> How are you?
> Let me guess who you like the most
> Is he tall?
< Yeah genius, it’s Jim.
< I’m good, how are you?
> I knew you have taste.
> I am good. Now even better.
< Why better?
< Also who else could I like? He’s the only sane person in that office.
> Because I talk to you.
> So true.
He’s feeling better because he’s talking to you. God, that makes your blood rush.
< I like talking to you, too.
< Okay I have a question. What do you think of Karen?
> Karen? Don't make me be a hater while texting.
> It would never end.
> You?
< You know the word hater? I’m impressed.
< I don’t like her either. She tried too hard to make things work.
> I am 34, not 304!
> I feel offended
< It’s so easy to tease you.
> She is boring and annoying. More annoying than that douchebag.
< You mean Roy?
> Yeah
> That punching scene though
< God, that guy is a walking red flag.
< Pam was truly blind.
> She was. Sad...
< Favorite season?
> Hard.
> Very hard.
> Maybe 4.
> Yours?
< Either 4 or 6.
> Tastee
< You are starting to sound like me
> Well, I am older, so it's the other way around
< Sure old man. Whatever you say
> Old but handsome, to quote you
< I can’t be held responsible for the things I say when I’m tipsy.
> Excusess
< Shh you are exposing me too much
As time passes, your conversations become friendlier. You don’t feel like this is something you have to do just to keep your business going. It feels like you two enjoy each other’s company. It feels like flirting. Yet you are not sure if that’s how he feels about all this, too.
> Hi. Are you home?
< Yeah?
> in a few minutes you might have a delivery
< A delivery?
< Bucky what did you buy this time?
> I can sense a tone
< Can you?
> A bratty tone.
> You'll see when it comes.
Just a few minutes later you open the door and see a huge bouquet of flowers.
< Jesus Bucky!
< These are so pretty!
< Thank youu.
> No complaining, huh?
> Glad you like them.
> I can complain if that’s what you want.
> I want you to be good and put them in a vase.
< They are already in a vase, sir.
You send a photo of the flowers in your prettiest vase.
> Great.
< I can’t stop smelling them.
> Noted
< I’ve got something to show you. Well two things because I can’t decide.
> Waiting
You send two mirror selfies in two different dresses. The first one is a black dress with a high slit on the right side. The other one is a simple pastel pink dress but the cleavage is on display a little.
< Which one should I wear for the next event?
> You think I am the right person to choose?
< I am your date, aren’t I?
> They both look great.
> Depends on what you want.
< That’s what I think too!
< And that’s why I can’t decide.
< Please help me out.
> Pink?
< Pink it is.
< Thank you.
*
What you didn't expect from this arrangement is how your attachment grows more and more every time you see Bucky. He makes it hard not to miss him with his smile and his jokes, the way he tries to integrate you and always asks how you feel. Truth be told, you're not even professional anymore and you catch yourself wanting to make a move on him every time he compliments you. But you can't, so you're forced to wait for him to do it. And you really hope he will.
*
You probably put too much faith in a rich person because when you see your notification from the banking app, you have to refrain from making a scene. You check twice just to be sure. For some reason, you are paid double the amount for this date and it’s not because he missed any previous payments. No, he just decided to pay you more the moment you started to grow closer.
When you look at him, he immediately catches something's wrong and leans in to whisper.
"What happened?"
“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Because you know if you do, your whole act will be exposed.
Bucky nods and looks at the rest of the table. "We're gonna head back home now. It was really nice to see you."
His reaction surprises you. You have the whole night ahead of us and he already paid you double. Why does he want to leave already?
"Of course. Have a good evening!"
“Oh, are you really leaving this early?” Someone else asks.
"Yes. We have plans for tomorrow pretty early in the morning."
“Ah! Too bad. Still, it was nice seeing you two.”
You both nod before you make your way to the door. You absently watch him asking for both of your coats and holding the door for you.
The way he’s acting like everything is fine infuriates you more. You really hoped something was going to happen between you two. It felt like you were headed in that direction, but you are not so sure anymore. Maybe he never saw it that way. Maybe he was thinking the worst of you and he’s just paying you more for everything he considers extra. It makes you feel nauseous.
"I should have made them change the plate… Do you have an allergic reaction?"
“Yeah, I am having an allergy reaction.” You lash out as soon as you feel safe to react. “An allergic reaction to you trying to buy everything.”
"What?" He looks at you so confused as if he didn't double paid you a moment ago.
“Tell me it’s just a mistake and you didn’t do it on purpose.”
"Do what? Pay you?"
Oh… He did it on purpose. And just like that the last hope you were hanging on vanishes.
“Yeah, pay me double just as we were getting closer. Is that all I am to you?”
"All you are to me?" He repeats shocked.
“Someone you can pay for whatever you want.” You don’t wait for an answer. You just keep going. “Of course, that’s all I am. What else can I be? It’s my fault for accepting this… deal. I put myself in this position. Why would you see me as someone other than a hooker.”
"Stop!" He screams back but not as loudly as you do. "What are you saying? What the actual fuck? When did I even imply that? Paying you double has nothing to do with disrespecting you! Contrary!"
“You don’t have to say it! The moment we started to get closer, you decided to pay me double. I don’t need to be Einstein to put 2 and 2 together.”
He scrunches his nose. "How about us getting closer and me wanting to help you, huh? Did that ever cross your mind? Me wanting to help you pay your debt faster, knowing the effort you make to accompany me to these," he gestures to the place behind you. "But no, of course, you didn't because you think the lowest of me. That I would believe I can buy you and your affection!"
“Help me?” He must be joking. “When I specifically told you I don’t want help!”
"I just don't want you to struggle. Is it so bad?" His voice is soft now while he stares at you, trying to show you he's entirely honest
“Have you ever stopped for a second and thought how getting help would make me feel? I’ll tell you. It makes me feel like a failure.”
"You're not a failure. And getting help doesn't make anything you did and do less important, especially since it's small. Please..." he sighs. "Let's continue talking in the car at least, it's freezing. You shouldn't get sick."
“Fine. I will get in, but this… this conversation is not over.” He’s right. It’s freezing and you can’t take it anymore.
He nods gratefully and opens the door for you, which you close with force.
As soon as he gets in the car and starts the engine, he turns on the ac, giving you a look. You keep taking deep breaths and avoid looking at him.
"Please... do you really think that low of me?"
"I don't know what to think anymore." You finally look back at him. "Are you gonna drive or are we gonna have this conversation here?"
"I don't want to drive you home upset. I want to talk about it..."
You stop for a second, consider your options. You can't have this conversation in a public place. "Your place or mine?"
*
Money is clearly not an issue for him so he probably didn't even blink to pay you double you realize as you get inside the house. You try not to look around too curiously. Your image in his eye is already as bad as it could get.
"How low do you think of me?" He repeats the same question while he starts to take off his shoes.
“I should be asking you that question.”
"You're the one who thinks I tried to buy you as a hooker."
“What were you trying to do then if not buying my affection? And don’t tell me helping!”
"To help."
“I don’t want help!” You don’t notice how loud you are. “I don’t want anyone’s help! I have to do this on my own. Is that so hard to understand?”
"Yes and no." He sighs. "I get this drive, I had it too, but I wish you could try to see... that you don't have to do this alone. But instead, you think I see you as someone buyable."
“Imagine when you started your business and had debt, someone had the means to help you, just give you money like it’s nothing and you don’t get to pay it back. Would you accept it? Would you think it’s your success if someone helped you out like that? Just be honest and answer.”
"Fuck no." He sighs. "But you deserve the money. And you put up with the events and your business..."
“Fuck no indeed. I want to do this myself. I have to prove myself I’m not a failure like my-” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence.
"What? Like what?"
“It doesn’t matter. I just need to prove that to myself, okay?”
"How could you think you are failing when you already did so much?
“As long as this business doesn’t succeed, whatever I’ve done so far does not matter. Only the result matters.” You don’t notice you are repeating your father’s words.
"That is bullshit. You think success is based on wins only?"
“It doesn’t feel like winning when you are worried about paying the next month's salaries.”
"That's a worry that honestly doesn't stop. Or at least not for me. Success means failure and worries sometimes. Success means trying and holding on."
“I’m not here to have a conversation about what you view as success, Bucky. I’m here because I’m mad at you.”
"You're mad at me, but you think I am an awful person." He starts taking off his jacket.
“I’m mad at you because you can’t pay me double just because you want to. That’s not how real life works.”
"Oh, really?" He smiles sarcastically. "I should totally give zero shits about you worrying about paying salaries and having student debt. Totally real-life fun stuff."
“Student debt? How do you even know about that?”
"You mentioned it."
“I don’t remember mentioning my student debt to you.”
He puffs, not breaking eye contact. "I have ears."
“You heard me mentioning my student debt and decided to pay me double?” He’s unbelievable.
"Yes."
“Do you have any idea how much you were paying me before?”
Bucky blushes embarrassed and strokes his beard. "No..."
“You were already paying me nearly a monthly salary. Just for going on a date with you once a week. Do you have any idea how it made me feel seeing that double payment in my account while I was hoping for…”
"Fuck, I want to say I am sorry, but I am not. I am not buying you, no matter how low you think of me. I want to help you. I thought we are already friends."
“Friends.” You give him a bitter smile. “Friends don’t pay each other.”
"Friends help each other." He is getting closer to you.
“Not without the other one asking for help.”
"You're impossible." He sighs. "You can pay me back at some point." He is so serious.
“Which point will that be?”
"Whenever you won't be worried about salaries."
“You said it yourself, that time never comes.”
"Please, doll." He closes his eyes, not even realizing what he said.
“Please what?”
"Can we just stop fighting?"
“We can if you stop paying me.”
"It's your money. You come with me every time. This event was more boring than usual... consider this a bonus for putting up with it and me."
“I don’t want- I don’t need that.”
"Why not? It's just for now." He seems upset. "Do you want nothing to do with me anymore?"
“I don’t need money to… enjoy my evening with you. I was actually hoping for you to… you know… stop paying me soon.”
"You want to end this?" He doesn't even try to hide his disappointment. His voice starts trembling.
“I want to end the payments.”
"So no more events..."
“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t want you to pay me for that anymore.”
"Oh." Bucky thinks a little. "You want to come to meet more people?"
“Dear god… You are so dense for a smart businessman sometimes!”
"You are calling me dumb."
“Yeah, because you are being dumb or just acting dumb, I don’t know anymore. You can call me if you want me to accompany you as your friend… or date, okay? It’s up to you now.” You reach for your stuff to leave his place.
"I just want to know why you'd find it so bad for me to pay you. Would you not pay me?"
“Don’t you really see the implication?”
"What implication? Tell me what you think."
“Would you pay me if we had sex?”
He freezes, completely taken aback. "What?"
“You heard what I said. Would you love me like you paid me, too?”
"You want to fuck me?" He asks unsure. As if he doesn’t know if he heard you right.
“Do you need things spelled out for you like this?”
"Do you mean it?"
“I have already said too much, Bucky. I think it’s better if I go.”
He grabs your hand when you turn toward the door. "I don't think you said enough."
“You want me to embarrass myself more?” He rolls his eyes. “I think I have made myself clear enough. Time for me to leave.”
"Come on." He smiles. "You didn't say anything."
You let a frustrated breath out. “Take care, Bucky.”
"Doll, please. You can't leave in the middle of a conversation like this!"
“Of course, I can leave. What else is there to talk about?”
"You asked if I'd pay you for sex."
“And I think I got my answer.”
"No, I would not pay you for sex."
“Because you didn’t even consider that option.”
He puffs, and you notice sweat drops on his neck. "Why did you even ask that? I already said I do not consider you buyable."
He is very close now, holding both of your hands and staring into your soul.
“Because that’s how I feel every time you pay me to spend time with you.”
"God, doll. You are really fucking impossible. You think I don't want to kiss you or fuck you? I think about it all the goddamn time if I let myself, but we had an arrangement..."
“And that’s why I wanna end the arrangement.”
"Done." His answer is instant.
“So you can take me out on a normal date, maybe.”
"Yeah?" He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop both: your coat and bag. But you don’t look down even when they hit the floor.
“If you want…” You feel your voice suddenly getting smaller.
"May I kiss you?"
“Only if you aren’t gonna ask permission for everything.”
He snorts. "Just answer."
“You may.”
He does, moving a hand to your chin as he immediately tries to deepen the kiss. The way he kisses you takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to start this kiss so strongly, but you definitely aren’t complaining. His other hand goes from your waist to your ass, grabbing it over your pants. You gasp in surprise, which interrupts the kiss.
He smiles. "Hi."
“Hi.” You try to catch your breath while he starts to kiss down your neck without warning. Your right hand trails up from his neck to his hair as you let out a low moan.
"Fuck." He starts sucking on a spot below your collarbone.
“Jesus, Bucky…” You try to sound as normal as possible. “Take a girl out to dinner first.”
"You want dinner?"
“Well, not right now.”
"What do you want right now?"
“Just keep doing what you were doing.”
He kisses you so sloppily, his hands going under your shirt without realizing. You wrap your hands around his neck and close the remaining distance between your bodies.
"Fuck, you taste so good."
“Maybe it’s the lipstick.” You joke and without letting him answer, you start to kiss him again, immediately using your tongue. He moans in the middle of the kiss and then opens his mouth a little further, inviting you in. Your hands go to the buttons of his shirt.
"Oh, fuck."
“Can I take this off?” You ask for permission the way he did before.
"Please." He is breathing slowly, looking at your hands
You take your time unbuttoning the shirt, testing his patience.
"Doll, please." His mouth finds your neck.
“Please what?”
"Faster."
“That part comes later,” You say with a suggestive tone and he snorts, leaving another kiss on your neck.
"Left you a few pretty marks."
“Maybe I should give you some too.”
"Later." When you finally finish unbuttoning, he takes it off in a heartbeat. "Hope you won't hate me."
“For what?” He simply rips your shirt in half in response. “Bucky!” His hands grab your bra while you are still talking. “That was an expensive top!”
"Was." He just rips off the bra, too. "Just like this was on you. Past tense.”
"Do not!" You lift your finger. "Rip off anything else!"
He bites that finger without hesitation, sucking in it further. You try to take your finger back.
“Jesus Bucky, how am I gonna go back home now?”
"What? You want to go home?"
“I have to go home eventually, you know.”
"I have clothes, you know?" He starts to take off your belt. "Pants too." You can see he wants to get rid of them too.
“You want me to leave your house in your clothes?”
He kisses her. "What?"
You take a deep, annoyed breath. “Fine, I will worry about this later.”
"May I rip these too?"
“No. No more ripping, please.”
"Alright," he says disappointed but lets you take off your pants while he’s simply staring at your breasts.
“At least I have this to wear while going back home,” you say, swinging your underwear.
"You talk so much about leaving."
“Hmm, do I?”
"Yeah." He's obviously trying not to show he's upset, but he's failing. And this makes you happy… the fact he doesn’t want you to leave.
“Does it bother you?”
"No," he whispers and looks at his own pants. "I can just make you feel good, you know? No rush, then I'll drive you home as you want."
You reach for his pants and start to unbuckle it. “I have a mind that… keeps on worrying. I think about stuff I have to do later constantly, but there’s a way to turn it off. At least for a while.”
He tries to stop you. "I can make you feel good, drive you home and take you on a date tomorrow."
You finally understand what he actually means. “What? No. That’s not what I want.”
"Okay. Just wanted to make sure you understand we can stop like any time."
“Oh, I know. I just don’t want to.”
"Okay." He smiles and lets his hands fall down.
“I feel like you are tiptoeing around me. Where’s that Bucky I see at these boring events every week?”
"He's here, just trying to do everything right. But I don't know what you mean by that Bucky."
"I mean that Bucky who doesn't hesitate."
"This is different though. I don't want you to think I am a douche, you know?" He sighs. "I don't want you uncomfortable."
"Your hesitation gives me anxiety. And I know you by now. You don't need to worry about that." You push his pants down and they pool around his ankles. Impatiently, he takes off his boxers himself and steps out of them.
"Alright then. Should we move to the bedroom?"
But you are too busy to finally look at him, all naked, to hear him. He looks better than you anticipated and that makes you even more eager to touch him.
He tries not to smile, but it's hard.
“Uhm… what?”
"Nothing, nothing. Keep going."
“Okay.” You move closer and start kissing him again. You grab him gently yet firmly and start moving your hand slowly, just to get him used to the feeling.
"Fuck." He moans against your lips. "Feels good."
You gently bite his lower lip while you keep moving your hand. It’s still slow, but you pay attention to grab his balls and brush against the tip, just to see his reactions
"Doll..."
“Hmm?” You stop kissing him and look into his eyes as you decide to kneel down.
"Doll, no." He groans. "Fuck, I really dreamed about this, but let's go to bed."
“If you dreamed about it, why are you saying no?”
"Because we can do something else fun for you too."
“Oh, believe me, this is fun.” You take your tongue out, swiping it on the shaft from the bottom to the top, making him moan immediately. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask, your lower lip touching the tip. He doesn't even seem to hear you.
“Hmm…” And that’s your answer. You take the tip into your mouth, gently licking. "Oh, shit," He moans and without thinking he wraps his hand around your ponytail.
Your tongue swirls around the tip, occasionally swiping on that sensitive spot that makes him moan really loudly. "Holy fuck." He's fully playing with your hair now. "Baby, please..." He doesn't seem to know what he's begginh for though.
“Hmm?” You silently ask while your tongue keeps working on him.
"We should... stop."
You take your mouth off him for a second, just enough to ask: “Why?” Then you take him right back inside your mouth.
"I'm gonna come," he says a little embarrassed.
He might have wanted you to stop because of that, but you have no intention of doing it. You want him to feel good, so you grab the shaft, moving it up and down while you take your mouth off for a few more seconds.
“Then come.”
Your tongue goes back to the tip, moving in sync with your hand. He can't even ask you if he should pull out because he's already coming in your mouth. You keep moving your head and hand until he finally hisses because of overstimulation.
"Doll."
You look at him while swallowing. “Yeah?”
"Thank you so much, I'm just... fuck me," he groans at the sight in front of him. There is something absolutely sinful about you like this. "I am just really sensitive."
“That’s normal.” You kiss his cock really gently on a spot that wouldn’t cause any discomfort. He lets go of your hair and smiles. You quickly wipe away that line of come dripping down to your chin before he helps you stand up and kisses you hard. You are already unbelievably wet, but the way he uses his tongue takes it to another level. He lifts you in his arms when you least expect and a yelp leaves your lips.
"Gonna take you to the bedroom."
“Yeah, okay.” You wrap your legs around his torso, trying to hide your excitement.
"I'm gonna eat you, okay?" He opens the door with his leg.
The way he says it sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the throbbing between your legs.
"You want to ride my face, pretty doll? Or do you want me on my knees?"
“God…” You think for a second, both options being tempting. “On your knees.”
"You want me on my knees? Want me to beg to eat your pussy?"
“Would you?”
"Beg for it?" He puffs. "For you? Of course."
“Jesus fucking Christ…”
"Just Bucky." He puts you down on the bed and kneels. You laugh a little. His nervousness is definitely fading away. He smiles and starts kissing below your knee. "Please, can I eat you, baby?"
“Oh god… I wanna hear that again.”
"I am begging. Please, allow me." He kisses all the way up.
“It’s all yours.”
He makes the most animalistic sound you've heard from his mouth before and lifts both of your legs over his shoulders.
"Gonna let me do it over and over again?"
“I might wanna do different things in between, but yes…” That makes him smile.
"Thank you." Then he finally starts licking at your entrance.
The first moan you let out sounds like you are trying to catch your breath. Bucky's fingers dig into your thighs when he properly enters you with his tongue.
“Oh god...” That feels amazing. He says nothing, trying to move his tongue around for a little while testing what you like. You instinctively move your hips a little, forcing his tongue closer to your clit.
"Fuck." You barely hear him say as he properly moves his mouth to your clit.
“Yess!” You shake with excitement. Bucky starts to flick his tongue gently on your clit, bringing his hand to your entrance. You don’t realize how you are moving your hips to create more friction. And he adds the first finger inside you without stopping his tongue motion.
“Ahh, yes.” It sounds like you have been waiting for this forever. His free hand goes up just to squeeze and massage each breast as he adds his second finger.
“Bucky, fuck!” It feels like he’s everywhere. His flicks turn into full licks while his fingers move faster.
“I’m gonna- I’m gonna- come.” You can already feel your legs shaking. He continues the pace exactly like this and moans against your clit.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuckk. God, please- don’t stop. Please.” He doesn't stop, he couldn't even if he tried, eager to make you come.
After a few seconds, something snaps inside you and finally, you feel loose. Your whole body is shaking and you can’t get enough of the way he makes you feel. The movement of his tongue, the way his fingers move… And it doesn’t end quickly. No, he keeps going and you feel the same high over and over again until it’s too much to bear. You stop him by grabbing a handful of his hair.
“That was… incredible.” He smiles, raising his head enough for you to see how wet he is. “Jesus…” His beard is soaked. You had no idea you were that wet.
"Just Bucky." He repeats the same joke as he licks his lips.
“Your beard… it’s so wet.” You are too shocked to react to his joke.
"Wanna clean it for me?" He winks and god, he looks so charming.
“Come here.” You open your arms.
He hugs you immediately, his beard making contact directly with your breasts as he’s spreading your wetness all over them.
"Oops." He giggles. "Guess I have to clean up my mess."
You giggle, too. “You know you don’t need an excuse to suck my nipples, right?”
"What? This is not what I'm doing. I like to clean."
And just like that, you feel Bucky's tongue all over your tits, making sure to avoid your nipples.
“Hmm… That feels good.” He bites a little the skin on your left breast, and you whine in response.
"Hurting?"
“A little.”
"Sorry, baby." He sucks a little around the bite as an apology.
"It's fine. Come here and gimme a kiss."
"No." He gets stubborn and he finally takes the first nipple into his mouth.
You grab his hair and force him away from your nipple. "You are so stubborn."
"You like pulling my hair."
"I was thinking about pulling it for a long time."
"Why didn't you?"
"Well, I touched it instead of pulling. On our first date."
"Yes." He smiles giving you a small kiss. "Not enough."
“There’s no way I could pull your hair there, you know.”
"True. I would moan."
"You and me both." You giggle again.
"So you felt okay?"
"Okay?"
He smiles. "More than okay?"
"You have no idea how okay that was."
"Probably not. You get to feel pleasure in ways I never will."
"Poor you. We should totally try to change that."
He snorts. "You want to suck me again? Or do you want to fuck me?"
"I want you to fuck me."
"Yeah?" He kisses your cheeks. "That's easy."
"Yeah?" Your hips move a little, rubbing against his erection. "Then what are you waiting for?"
"Gonna be right back." He tries to get up, but you stop him.
"Condom?"
"Yep. Any preference?"
"Yeah, none if possible."
Bucky looks at you confused. "What?” He thinks maybe you meant the flavor. “I can find one without it."
"I meant no condom because I'm on the pill, so it's up to you."
"You sure?" You aren’t sure if he’s excited or surprised.
"Why wouldn't I be? As long as you are clean."
"Want me to bring my blood tests?"
You laugh a little because you know he means it and you couldn’t help but imagine him dutifully showing you the papers. "I will take your word for it, Mr. Barnes."
"Mr Barnes?" He repeats amused as he spreads your legs properly. "Are you gonna call me that when I come inside you, too?"
"Mr. Barnes sounds too formal for that. Gotta find something else for that moment."
He grabs and positions himself at your entrance. "I'm sure you're creative."
You push your hips impatiently. "I will find something fitting."
He enters you without waiting, but he's careful not to hurt you so he stops for a little. You throw your head back because of the way you feel with his cock inside you. A lower, nearly animalistic moan escapes your lips.
"Oh god."
"Please move."
He kisses you gently as he finally starts to thrust slowly. You are so wet that he's moving so smoothly, dragging your walls every time he pulls back and then filling you up all over again.
"Aren't you a wet little doll?" He shifts his weight on his elbows that he places on both sides of your head.
"I’m so unbelievably wet."
"Perfect." He buries his head into your neck and starts to move faster.
“I have been… imagining how… this would feel.”
"Did you dream about it?" He doesn’t miss the chance to ask that.
“Once.”
"Only once?" He tries not to sound disappointed, but he fails.
“Yeah, and I was surprised because I don’t dream about sex.”
"How?" He starts sucking harder.
“Ahh.” You moan softly. “During one of those fancy events.”
"Fuck." He lifts his head to look at you. "Did you dream of me fucking you in the closet? Or the baby changing room?"
“In a dark closet. Suddenly you are all over me.”
"Fucking you from behind? Or holding my baby?"
“You were holding me and- ahh. I was trying to- stay quiet. But- you kept fucking me- harder.” His hips move so fast now you can barely speak.
"Did you scream?"
“I was about to, but I woke up suddenly.”
"Fuck." He groans. "The worst. Did you finish the job?"
“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I was so fucking wet.”
"Just...." He closes his eyes. "I'm imagining you using your little fingers under your panties to play with your clit- Shit."
“And it wasn’t enough.”
"No? Poor baby." He leans in to bite your bottom lip for a few seconds.
“It was frustrating.” You moan when he moves his hips a little harder. “Nowhere near… this.”
"Nothing like my cock? Like us?"
“Nuh-huh.”
"God, can't wait to come inside you... to see you dripping."
“Shit, Bucky. You can’t just say things like that.” It makes you clench hard. You need to come. Now.
"Why not? So fucking hot." His thrusts slow down but become deeper at the same time. "Dripping down your thighs. Gonna clean that up for you and share it." He curses. "Gonna pass you my come in a kiss."
“Oh fuck.” His words, the image just pushes you over that edge. “I’m coming. Oh fuck, please don’t come. Not yet. Please.”
"Why not? Do you want me to pull out?" He teases.
“I need one more.” You say while shaking hard. “Just one more.”
"I'm right here," he whispers assuringly. “I'm inside you, not going anywhere. I dreamed about you too." He pauses to curse. "Fuck, I was fucking my bed."
“Tell me… tell me about it.” The orgasm keeps washing you in waves. Over and over again until it fades away.
"You were in my office at work. Came to talk about a gala or we were leaving from there, I don’t know. And we just... we were suddenly kissing and I was ripping off your dress. And I was simply fucking you all over the desk."
“How did it feel?”
"Not even close to this, but it was good. So good. I almost came in my sleep."
“You didn’t come?” You finally feel like your breath is going back to normal.
"I stroked myself after I woke up and came. A lot."
“Made a big mess because of me?”
"Mhm." He brings his fingers to your lips. "And you weren't there to help me."
“I’m here now.”
"Gonna help me this time?" His index finger plays with her bottom lip.
“Oh, I will.” You bite his finger gently. “And no mess this time. I’m here to take every drop of your come.”
"You sure you can?" He teases. "What if it's too much?"
“It’s all mine. I don’t care if it’s too much.”
"I'm all yours."
“Oh, Bucky.” You feel like you are melting. You kiss him on the lips passionately. “I’m all yours, too.”
"Yeah?" He smiles and starts thrusting faster. "Aren't you a pretty little doll? All mine, ready to take my come."
“Yours.” You repeat and that familiar pleasure starts to build up again, but you want to try something else. Something you have been imagining. “Can you… flip me over?”
"Sure," he answers a little surprised, and helps you move.
“I have been imagining how this would feel.”
"Thought you did it only once."
“You know dreaming and imagining are different things, right?” You tease him. You can’t see his expression, but you know he made a face right after hearing your words.
"How many times did you imagine it?'
“Oh, who knows? A lot of times.”
"Tell me what did you imagine when we were like this." He squeezes your hips, so turned on to see your on all fours.
“You fucking me hard.”
"How hard?" He teases leaning in to kiss your back.
“As hard as you can.”
As soon as he starts to properly thrust inside you, a few gasps and whimpers leave his mouth. The positions opens you up in a different way.
"God, this is... fuck me."
“Yeah, I would say- the same.” It’s hard to speak when he is pounding you like this.
"You're making such a mess on the bed, baby. Around my cock. God, so fucking wet."
“Should I apologize for the mess?” You ask cheekily because he seems so gone.
"You should." He squeezes your ass. "By making a bigger mess."
“I think- that’s- possible.”
"Yeah?" He fucks you even harder, properly using his knees and your hips. "You gonna come?"
“Yeah! Please!”
"Please what?"
“Please, daddy.” The words leave your lips before your mind can register them.
"Holy fuck, what did you just say?" He barely manages to keep going, just slowing down. He looks at you as if he doesn't know if he imagined something, and that's how you realize what you said.
“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” You start to panic.
"Hey, baby." His voice is soft, assuring. "What are you sorry for?"
“I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just… thinking that.”
"God, baby." He tries to turn your head to look into your eyes by grabbing your chin and titling it up. "You think of me as your daddy?"
“Is it bad if I do?”
"Yeah, it's bad because I can come any second when you call me that." He kisses your forehead. "Be a good girl for daddy and try to come, okay?"
“God, Bucky.” You moan because of his words. You’ve imagine this, indeed, a lot of times, but hearing it? It’s something that can’t be described.
He pulls your hair. "Daddy."
“Oh, fuck.” It turns you on even more and you don’t know how that’s even possible. “Yes, daddy.”
"Did you imagine this, too?" He is leaving you breathless with the way he is pounding you, yet he still demands an answer. "Did you imagine calling me daddy while I fuck you like this?"
“Yes.” You are so close to coming. So close that you can taste it. “I did- so many times.”
One of his hands finds your right breast and sqeezes. "Please, come for daddy. Gonna be a good girl and come?"
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuckk, I’m coming!” The way your orgasm hits you makes you lose the last drop of control you had over your body. You can’t think of anything beside Bucky and how good he’s making you feel. His pace quickens for a second before he comes. He doesn't manage to warn you he's coming too, but he doesn't have to. His moan and the feeling of his come are enough.
He keeps it going until both of you finish and when you do, the only thing that you can hear is your loud breaths. Then you feel a trail of kisses all over your back.
“Oh my god,” you finally manage to speak.
"Just Bucky." He reaches your neck. "Or daddy."
You laugh. “God, you are so smug.”
"Smug?" He smiles and pokes your skin with his tongue.
You turn around, finally fully facing him. “Yeah, daddy is real smug.” It feels so good to be able to call him that without worrying about anything else.
"Thank you."
“Who knew Bucky Barnes had a daddy kink?” You can’t help but say.
"Not Bucky Barnes himself." He snorts.
“You just found out?”
"Yeah." He burst into laughter a bit embarrassed. He’s never thought about being called daddy before, especially not in bed, but with you? With you, it just makes sense. It feels hot.
“Oh god, I am so lucky.”
"Did you always have a daddy kink?"
“I didn’t even know I had one before meeting you.”
Bucky's smile is so big. "Fuck, I am the lucky one." He kisses you properly now, immediately trying to open your mouth by licking your bottom lip.
“I thought I would freak you out, but look at you, fully embracing it.”
"How could I not?"
“You liked it that much, daddy?” You wrap your arms around his neck playfully.
"God, I did. You're so hot when you say it. And the way you looked at me."
“How did I look at you?”
"Can't even explain it... I just wanna see that over and over again.”
“Well, you can.”
He scrunches his nose in the most adorable way possible. "Thank you."
“For what?”
"For everything. And for wanting me."
You frown because of that last part. “What does that even mean?”
"Boring older man."
“Handsome older man, who I have been fantasizing about for a while.”
He giggles shily. "You make me sound like a dirty dream."
“Well, it’s because you are.”
"You are mine too."
“Lucky us.”
"You might never get rid off me." He kisses your forehead.
“I might be okay with that.”
*
It has been a while since you started to date Bucky. After that night, everything slowly started to fall into place. You found a great balance between your lives and your relationship, always making time for each other. You spend a lot of nights at his place. It doesn’t feel like his anymore, it feels like you are living together. Everything is so natural.
“I just got the most unexpected call ever,” you say, still feeling fairly surprised by the job you got offered.
"What was it about?" Bucky is still in bed, surprisingly. He's usually the first the get up and go to the kitchen in the morning.
“Mrs. Moore called me to ask me if my bakery could do the catering for their next event.”
"Oh my god. That’s amazing."
“It is! But I am not sure if I can actually do it.”
Bucky frowns and immediately taps on the bed. "Come here."
You listen to him and continue talking while moving closer. “I haven’t given her the final answer yet, I acted like I need to check in to see if we are available, but the more I think about it, the more I notice how hard it would be.”
"I am gonna say something, but I don't think you'll like it."
“You will say you can help me out.”
"Yep." He gives you the biggest smile. "But it doesn't take away anything from your success or your efforts, okay? Just hear me out."
You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.” You have been warming up to the idea of him helping you. Maybe not financially, but he has been helping you. He has the best ideas and a great perspective. So you won’t say no to hearing him out.
He reaches to hold your hand.
"Let me take care of the transport and hire the extra stuff who can serve at the party. I'll call a friend." He pauses. "Just this once, okay? You can curse me out later, bit let me help so you can get more jobs in the future. This is a great opportunity."
“How did you even know I needed help with transport?”
"Baby," Bucky giggles at your confused pouty face. "It's a first experience. You don't have employees for this and it's a big party." Then he shurgs, like it wasn’t that hard to guess.
“Transport, service staff, and extra place to store the food. These are the problems I need to solve if I wanna do this.” You list the things you need to be able to take this job.
"Is that a yes?"
“That’s an I am considering it.”
In response, he simply raises on his knees and kisses you, with his hands on your neck. "Good girl."
“I didn’t say yes yet!”
"Ihm."
“If you assume I will say yes, it’s definitely gonna be a no.”
"No, I am very, very, very fucking horny right now."
“Just because I might say yes to your offer for help?”
Bucky blushes. "It's very hot. And I'm so hard..."
“Jesus… You really want a sugar baby, don’t you?” He must have. He loves the idea of taking care of your every need. That would explain why.
"I just like doing this for you."
“Do you like being useful or do you like spoiling?” You insist. You want him to say it.
He makes a sound from the back of his throat. "Can we just focus on you?"
“No, please… Tell me why exactly this turns you on.”
"I don't know." You see the sides of his neck getting red.
“But I wanna know.”
"Please, just..."
“Gimme an answer and I will give you one back.”
He takes a deep breath but doesn't look at you. "I just love spoiling you even though you don't let me."
You smile. “I might let you a little bit.”
"Just..." He sighs embarrassed. "Just ignore me, okay?"
“This is me… saying yes.” You spell it out for him.
"For my help?" He finally looks at you.
“Yeah.”
"Wow.” He sounds completely surprised. “This is... great." He tries to keep his emotions under control. "Then go ahead and uhm, call Moore back as I send a few messages, okay?"
“She can wait a little bit longer.” You gently grab his erection. He has gotten really excited just because you let him help you. It’s just unbelievable yet you love it. You love that he cares about you this much. “I need to take care of daddy first.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#dilf!bucky barnes#daddy!bucky barnes#sebastian stan#dilf!bucky#bucky barnes x reader smut#businessman!bucky barnes#millionaire!bucky barnes#billionaire!bucky barnes#bucky barnes one shot#rich!bucky barnes#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#my stories#my fanfics#co written with marvelouslizzie
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Angsty thot on the the ghost x reader x soap blurb;
I've been thinking about the what if Soap did actually reciprocate Ghost's advances? For a moment, he forgets reader. Finally, FINALLY, Soap thinks... until the bliss dies down and he remembers reader and guilt sets in. Ghost's only all too happy to show off to reader. Being affectionate with Johhny, leaving whatever marks were left visible, staking a claim that he won.
Reader, of course, is dismayed and feels betrayed. But how much can she really feel? It fucking sucks, it does, that Ghost doesn't care what she thinks or feels and she wasn't in a committed relationship with Soap. So if they were to pursue a relationship, what can she really do about it?
HOW I AM AFTER READING THIS anon i wanna crawl into your mind and poke around your brain because how could you (ext)
johnny knows he hasn’t been honest with himself lately. that, in the face of ghost’s desires—because nothing less could describe the fire in his lieutenant’s eyes; it’s all so heated and leashed. hungry. aching—he denies himself and pretends he cannot see what is crystal clear.
he pretends that every brushing touch was an accident, that every heavy look was a trick of the light. that the way simon calls his name—johnny, with the ‘y’ dripping from his mouth like honey—was all circumstantial.
friendly. platonic, truly.
but it’s becoming more frequent. more passionate. more territorial.
of course, it was all a matter of when, really, was johnny going to fall. and the answer, apparently, is right now.
his shirt is torn off his body, fatigues falling beside two pairs of boots. warm lips, fever-hot, are on his skin, tracing scalding trails that has him trembling. he feels jittery, bones rattling within his flesh. he feels untethered, floaty. nirvana pinched between his fingers.
then, he falls, body thudding against the mattress. the metal of his bed posts creaks, a gunshot in the silence, and johnny freezes. his mind catching up to his heart.
this isn’t—
simon towers over him, his scarred chest heaving in his ragged breaths. the mask is off, discarded to the floor, and johnny, he—
well.
he sees the man that his soul sings to—cheeks flushed, bright cherries, and eyes dark with yearning. simon looks at him like johnny’s all that matters in the world; like all that he’s fighting to live for is johnny.
johnny feels this bloating in the back of his throat, something in his heart swelling until all he tastes is his breaths. his lips wobble, teeth chattering. they stop at ghost’s tender touch, his callused hand cupping johnny’s cheek.
simon's thumb swipes at the skin just underneath his eyes. his lips, crooked, tug up in a smile. “y’r much too gorgeous, johnny.”
johnny doesn’t know what happened next, only that he was stuffed with a burn that scorches from within and engulfed whole; devoured every way possible until simon's marks—from teeth and just his overall brute strength—took. his throat aches, scratchy, and his skin throbs with the memory of their love-making.
he, well, he wept. he tucked his head on the crook of simon's neck, breathing him in, unable to explain the euphoria simmering in the pit of his stomach.
simon loves him. he desired him every way possible so who wouldn't—
who wouldn't lose themselves?
(johnny thinks of you and the memories blur; what had been fiery passion morphs into something ugly. into something cruel.)
there was something different in ghost's gait—that's the first thing you noticed upon walking into the mess hall. he was more relaxed, more open in a way you have never seen from him before. he even met your eyes as you walk towards their little huddled group, the first time in a while, and you are unable to look away because there was something in his gaze that you couldn't quite place.
it still spoke of danger, of a walled barrier that he firmly put between you two, but it was undiscernible.
still poised, though, for the hunt.
kyle greets you first, kind and gentle, but before you could reply to him, johnny's tugging you away. a protest builds on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip past your chapped lips, but you freeze, feet stumbling as the air is knocked out of your lungs.
"bonnie–"
"oh," you say, a whispered gasp, your eyes unable to drag from the bruises on johnny's neck. not made with unkind intensions, if the teeth mars were any indication.
briefly, you wondered if johnny's met someone else to satiate his desires. if, in your absence, he sought to snuff the burning need from someone else. you've been away for three months, after all, chasing a lead in shanghai and tracking them all the way to tianjin. it must have been too long for johnny too.
(you wonder why your heart twinges at the idea of johnny finding comfort in someone else that isn't you.)
but the thought is doused by an ice-cold realization.
"it's– you know that i–"
"oi, 'tavish," ghost's voice rings from behind you.
you tip your head back just enough to see him, to see with your eyes what must he must have done, but he's back to ignoring you again.
it seemed like now that you've noticed what it was that had him elated, ghost no longer wanted to interact with you. not a word nor a touch. not even a glance.
johnny bites his bottom lip, shoulders hunching into himself.
"i'm sor–"
"i have to go," you say, your voice even sounds foreign to your own ears. "i have to, uhm, to report."
you shuffle away from between them, your palm rising to press onto your chest as though that could truly stop the splintering of your heart. as though your heart was truly wounded and that the pressure could stop the bleeding.
but it aches. dear god, everything aches.
ANON THIS HURT ME SO BAD AND I COULDNT HELP MYSELF FROM RAMBLING IM SORRY!! god im wailing so much like i literally was bug eyed staring at ur ask bc OW??? (btw reader is gn in this ghoap x reader angst)
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Sunshine - Part 5
Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 9
Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Plus-size female character (nickname is Sunshine)
Prompt: FREE WEEK | [Optional Prompts: “W” - Wax Play, Watersports, WAM (Wet & Messy), Weapon Play] @buckybarnesevents
Summary: (4k) Series Masterlist Bucky’s confession tests the bond of their relationship.
Warnings: 18+ Only. Slow burn. Grumpy/Sunshine trope. Happy Bucky (is that a warning?) - he's a photographer in this AU. Mention of insecurities, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and body image (she's a bit of a mess, okay?). Mention of weed. Internal dialogue. Use of the word fat (as a descriptor).
---------------------------
Bucky never had any intention of blurting out his feelings like this. Even as all the fragments of his plans went to the wayside, the last thing he wanted to do was spring this on her. As easy as it’d be to blame it on the weed, it doesn’t matter either way. The truth is out there now and the only thing he can do is keep moving forward, his soft smile never wavering.
A range of emotions play across Sunshine’s face. The initial look of surprise changing to one that gives him immediate hope for their future, their eyes locked in an understanding, a silent conversation threatening to bloom. And then it’s gone in an instant, replaced by hurt and betrayal, the emotion welling up in her eyes.
“That’s not funny.”
Her words are like a punch to his gut and before Bucky can process what’s happening, Sunshine’s climbing off the couch, putting distance between them. She doesn’t believe him.
“Sunshine.” Bucky remains on the couch, his feet flat on the floor, toes digging into the carpet as he keeps a tight grip on his knees, forcing himself to remain calm. As much as it pains him, he can see this for what it is. A way for her to protect herself. “You know me. You know who I am. This isn’t a joke.”
Silence consumes them, the soft dripping of rain and the slight hum of the battery-powered fan the only sound piercing his ears. He feels frozen in place, the dim glow of the candles providing enough light for Bucky to take in her tense shoulders, her head cast up to the ceiling.
It’s not until she lets out a heavy sigh that she finally turns around, the sadness on her face doing nothing to ease the ache inside of him to fix this. Unshed tears breaking his heart and it takes everything in Bucky not to stand up and go to her while he waits for her to say something. Anything.
After Sunshine visibly swallows, her response comes, stuttering as she tries to explain this away. “I wasn’t… I didn’t tell you all that to… I don’t want your pity.”
With a furrowed brow and a slow steadying breath, Bucky shakes his head at her, taking a second to quiet the urge to become defensive. In a gentle voice, he tells her, “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?” Her question is immediate, desperate to understand.
This is going all wrong, but Bucky’s unable to stop himself from giving her an expectant look as he exhales, “Sunshine.” She knows what this is. If she’s too scared to meet him halfway though, the only thing he can do is spell it out. “This is me telling you that I have feelings for you. That I want to date you.”
She cuts in before he can keep going, interrupting him with a shake of her head, “Please don’t do that. You don’t need to… to convince me that I’m dateable. I don’t-.”
He can’t stand it anymore.
The weed no longer enough to keep the frustration from building, he finally rises to his feet, the coffee table separating them as he holds his hands up in surrender, whispering, “Stop.” He doesn’t know if she’s being obstinately obtuse, but he can’t keep going around in circles. “That’s not why I’m telling you. I’m telling you because I want to be with you. I’m telling you because I think you might feel the same way.”
Sunshine’s a deer caught in headlights, staring wide-eyed, open-mouthed, her rapid breaths giving him concern. Either she still doesn’t believe him, or he misread this.
“If I got the signals wrong, please tell me,” he urges, rooted in his spot, his ankles digging into the edge of the couch to steady himself. “I promise I won’t be upset, and I’ll never do anything to make you uncomfortable. I’ll even help you find a new roommate if that’s what you need. I just…” He lets out a soft sigh, emotion threatening to crack his resolve at the thought of causing her any more pain, “I didn’t want you to keep thinking there wasn’t anything between us.”
She stands there for the longest time, her eyes wandering around the room, occasionally settling on him before moving away, unable to hold his gaze. He has no idea what she’s thinking, and he’s at a loss as to what to do, other than stand there, his arms at his sides, refusing to look away, not giving her a chance to doubt what he’s telling her.
The soft clearing of her throat makes his breath catch, trying not to get his hopes up as their eyes connect again. He’ll accept whatever she says, even if it breaks his heart.
She starts and pauses several times, long enough for Bucky to know what’s about to come, giving him time to steel himself. “I… It’s… We…” Emotion threatens to overwhelm her again and he watches as she fights through it, forcing the words out, “We’re friends, Bucky.”
“Okay.” He tells her, quickly nodding his head, taking the opportunity to return to his seat on the couch, his legs threatening to give out on him. This isn’t at all what he expected tonight, but he intends to keep his promise. “We’re friends, Sunshine. That’s more than enough for me.”
With a soft utterance of, “I need a minute” she’s gone, closing herself off in her bedroom, leaving Bucky to start figuring out how the hell he’s going to make this right.
-------------------
This isn’t what she wanted.
No matter how much Bucky has consumed her thoughts, and her fantasies, and her dreams, she didn’t confess her trauma and her secrets in hopes that he would suddenly see her in a different light. Sharing her past had only meant to bring them closer together, for her to allow him in, to strengthen their friendship.
There were also selfish reasons - to satiate that urge to lay out her past and have him comfort her. To tell her it wasn’t her fault. To reassure her that she made the right decision cutting off her family.
Bucky’s always been good at that - saying the right thing, especially in a time of need. That’s probably what this is. Tonight, with the storm, and the blackout, and the lit candles - not to mention getting high together - he got confused, wrapped up in the moment, wanting to make her feel better.
That’s all it is.
But what if it’s not?
Everything Bucky said replays in her mind, the conviction in his voice, the urgency, the need for her to understand. Instead of giving her the answers she’s seeking, the doubt grows, convincing her that even if he’s not confused, it’s probably still a spur-of-the-moment thing. Something recent that caused this.
If not tonight, then maybe last night, letting him take her picture? Or, probably last week when she joined him and his friends at the bar. She acted like a completely different person, most likely giving him the wrong impression. Making him believe that she’s someone she’s not. Someone carefree, confident, easygoing.
That must be what happened. Which means Bucky’s not attracted to her. He’s attracted to a version of her that doesn’t even really exist.
Pacing her room, her spinning thoughts make her dizzy, one jumping to the next, making it impossible to figure out what to do next. The questions building right along with her anxiety. The smartest thing to do would be to walk back out there and ask them, find the clarity she needs, but it feels impossible.
She wouldn’t even know where to start.
And would it even matter?
If Bucky doesn’t really have feelings for her, she’d rather not know. And if his feelings are real, nothing good could ever come of it.
They’re too different.
They’re barely compatible as roommates and friends, let alone as anything more.
That’s not true.
She ‘blames’ the lingering effects of the weed for the interjecting of positivity - or maybe it’s Bucky slowly rubbing off on her - and flops back on her bed, the flashlight of her phone shining on the ceiling. She’s too high to immediately dismiss how well they mesh, how much fun they have together.
That still doesn’t mean this can lead anywhere. She carries too much baggage, and he deserves a life that he’s constantly striving for. One filled with never-ending enthusiasm and spontaneous adventures and extended family. She can’t offer him any of that.
You can at least offer him the truth.
“Fuck,” she curses, rubbing her hands over her face, distracting herself from the slight tremble rolling through her body. As much as she wants to throw caution to the wind and fall into this with an open mind, she’s too scared. She’s been through too much to think this can lead anywhere except the end of their friendship.
He’ll eventually come to his senses and she’ll be too heartbroken to get over him.
This is for the best.
-------------------
Bucky hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch, his eyes locked on the flickering candles, lost in a sea of thoughts. Every step that led them here and how to salvage their friendship. There are too many variables, too many uncertainties regarding how she’s going to want to handle this. All he knows is that whatever Sunshine wants, he’ll give her.
He waits patiently, several minutes passing that feel like hours, unable to take a deep breath until she finally opens her door, cautiously joining him back in the living room. She looks so nervous, so worried about what’s going to happen that he has to be the one to break the silence, trying to make this easier for her.
“Are you okay?”
The slight nod of her head turns into a shrug, her shoulders lifting at the same time her eyes do, offering him a soft smile. “Sorry for… running away like that.”
Bucky’s quick to shake his head, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat, telling her, “You don’t need to apologize, I know this is a lot.” Watching her try to dismiss the magnitude of his confession convinces him to see this through. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Sunshine grows quiet again, a moment passing before she takes a few tentative steps into the living room, pausing for a moment before returning to her seat at the opposite end of the couch. He can only take it as a good sign, especially when she assures him, “You don’t need to apologize either… you were just being honest.”
The gnawing panic over fixing this begins to dissipate and he wastes no time in telling her, “If you want to talk about it, I promise to keep being honest.”
The soft exhale of her laugh eases the tension in his own body and he gives her an encouraging grin, grateful to see her starting to relax, even a bit. She still keeps one foot on the floor, her body slightly turned towards him, but it’s more progress than he expected.
“Since you’re being honest, I should be too,” she whispers, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, fingernails picking at a loose thread.
Mentally preparing himself for whatever she’s about to admit, he shifts in his seat, pulling his feet back under him, his focus steady on her.
“You didn’t get the signals wrong.” Her admission comes slowly, but there’s no hesitation, Sunshine taking her time to convey her thoughts, sending Bucky on a rollercoaster of emotions. “I just don’t think this is a good idea.”
Refusing to live a life of regrets, he asks, “But not because you don’t have feelings for me?”
A hint of amusement crosses her face, a brief pointed look thrown his way before she’s avoiding his gaze again, her attention pulled back to her shirt. “It’d ruin our friendship.”
“Nothing could ruin our friendship,” he counters, without hesitation. If she’s not going to deny their connection, neither will he.
With another twitch at the corner of her mouth, she tilts her head and narrows her eyes, still refusing to give him more than a brief second of her stare. Bucky doesn’t mind, as long as she keeps trying to talk to him.
With her gaze diverted, he studies her face, his eyes drawn to her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, allowing himself to envision reaching out to soothe it with his thumb.
Not letting his mind drift, he refocuses, seconds before she finds the courage to confess, “This could. Especially if it’s… Tonight’s been… so much has happened with the blackout, and the trauma bonding, and I don’t… we don’t know what’s going to happen in the light of day.”
Bucky’s own brow furrows in response, memories of their earlier conversation playing in his head, trying to discern what he said that caused her to think this is a hasty decision, an unexpected realization that he hasn’t agonized over every waking moment.
“The same thing that’s been happening,” he says, offering her a slight shrug and a comforting smile. “I know this might be new for you, but it’s been my reality for a while now.”
“How long?” Her question comes out in a long exhale, the slight furrow of her brow signaling more doubt and accusations.
At least it’s a question he was already prepared to answer, the truth spilling out of him without a second thought. “A couple of months.”
-------------------
A couple of months.
After learning it wasn’t just because of tonight, she was expecting a couple of days, maybe a week. But a couple of months?!
Her head spins again, calculating everything from when her own feelings started to the moment Bucky started calling her Sunshine and fixing her morning coffee. She’s looking for inconsistencies, reasons to stick to her belief that nothing good can come from this.
She can’t find any though - realizing that his feelings started before hers did, but only after he was already making her lunch and leaving her coffee - and all she can wonder is, “Why?” He already thinks this is new for her, the excuse that it’s because she has feelings for him no longer plausible, and she’s trying to figure out what caused the change.
Bucky’s soft laugh cuts through her racing thoughts and he leans in, shifting a bit closer, almost an entire couch cushion still between them. She wants to break the distance and add more all at the same time, his bright smile the only reason she doesn’t move a muscle.
“How could I not, Sunshine?” he shakes his head, as if he never stood a chance. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met and I-.” He pauses to let out another laugh, the smile he’s giving her making her stomach flutter and her heart skip a beat. “My favorite part of the day is when I’m with you.”
Words fail her, as they seem to at the most inopportune time, but Bucky’s patient, giving her a moment to process and respond whenever she’s ready. It allows her time to swallow her fear and ask another question that threatens to overwhelm her, “What if that’s all it is? I mean, we’re friends and-.”
“I don’t think about my friends the way I think about you.”
He rarely ever interrupts her, but when he does, it’s usually for her benefit, to quiet her worries. This is no exception and she suddenly can’t breathe again, her chest growing tight as air gets trapped in her lungs.
This is actually happening.
Despite the longing look Bucky’s giving her, she still can’t accept it. The trust she has in him doesn’t outweigh the walls she’s built to protect herself. Years of experience teaching her that if something feels too good to be true, it probably is.
Twisting his assurance that nothing could ruin their friendship, she grasps at one last straw, telling him, “I don’t want to be an experiment.” Bucky’s face morphs into one of confusion and shock, her accusation like a slap to his face, but she can’t stop herself from doubling down, shrugging as she asks, “Have you ever even dated anyone fat before?”
He blinks, letting out a sharp exhale, the twitch in his jaw the first sign that she’s crossed a line. Steve’s words of ‘you’ve never given him a reason to be mad’ echoing in her head, but it’s too late to take this back. Even if it was the wrong way to ask, it’s still a fear she needed to express.
She swallows the lump forming in her throat as he gives her a slow shake of his head and says, “Please don’t do that. I know the world can be unkind, but I’ve never treated you with anything but respect.”
There’s no anger in his tone, only pain and frustration, Bucky doing his best to set a boundary with her. She respects him too much to push back, taking a moment to force air into her lungs, breathing several slow deep breaths. And he lets her, even though she accused him of being like all the other assholes who have hurt her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her throat tight with emotion, resisting the urge to remind him she’s not good at this. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Bucky accepts her apology with a grateful smile, telling her, “I don’t mind if you have doubts or insecurities, okay? I never have.” He lifts a hand to his chest, promising her, “ And I’m happy to help quiet them, but I’d rather you ask me, instead of accusing me, that’s all.”
She swiftly nods her head, rendered speechless again, her voice stuck in her throat. He’s managed to avoid all the landmines, pass all her tests, but the doubt lingers. The fear doesn’t ease. It won’t until she has concrete proof. Something she can cling to.
What if he can’t give you any?
The silent questioning gives her pause and she takes the opportunity to announce that she needs another drink, her bottle nearly empty, excusing herself to the kitchen. She wastes time at the fridge, the single candle on the counter the only light as she takes several gulps of water to soothe her dry throat.
Her current thoughts mirror the ones from earlier, her anxiety and insecurities doing their best to convince her of things she knows aren’t true. This isn’t a joke, or a thoughtless confession, or a fetishized curiosity.
Interrupting the growing silence, Bucky joins her, leaving several feet between them, “What do you need, Sunshine?”
The tender way he asks is almost enough to make her cry, his soft murmur providing her comfort. All he’s ever cared about is her happiness, going out of his way to make her day, even before he ever considered dating her. After all the pain and heartache she’s endured, doesn’t she deserve a chance at happiness?
This is a bad idea.
Her heart’s racing, and she’s not sure if or when she’ll be able to breathe deeply again, but it’s not enough to scare her away anymore. She’ll live the rest of her life with yet another regret if she doesn’t take this chance, deciding to trust his promise that nothing can ruin their friendship.
“What kind of thoughts do you have about me?”
She keeps her back to him, and the words are barely audible, but he doesn’t make her repeat them, his soft footsteps echoing as he moves a bit closer.
“I think about spending more time with you,” he explains softly. “Taking you out on dates, getting to flirt with you, make you blush.”
Her skin grows warmer, a light sweat collecting under her shirt, threatening to overwhelm her. And yet, there’s no wish for the electricity to come back, wanting nothing to interrupt them. Being in the dark, the quiet of night, it makes this just a bit easier.
“Is that all you think about?”
Another soft step, and then a whisper of, “No, but that’s where I want to start.”
The water bottle grows heavy in her hands, flashes of her own fantasies and dreams invading her thoughts, doing nothing to help cool her down. No hesitation takes hold of her, refusing to leave it here, refusing to take the out he’s giving her. She can’t.
She needs more. Proof that he wants all of her. That he desires her.
Forcing herself to relax, she asks, “Where do you want it to go?”
-------------------
Bucky should listen to his instinct and tell Sunshine everything - all his hopes and fantasies, even confess that night he listened for her moans of pleasure - but he doesn’t. He treads carefully, barely standing a foot behind her, quick to assure her, “Wherever you want it to.”
The moment he says it, a wave of regret washes over him, watching the tension suddenly return to her shoulders and her hands drop, her bottle swinging at her side. He’s so focused on trying to take this slow, to not push her into anything, that he’s accomplishing the opposite of what he was hoping for.
He’s reinforcing her insecurities instead of easing them.
Throwing caution to the wind, he follows his intuition, choosing 100% honesty.
“I think about kissing you.”
Her shuddering breath has a surge of arousal rushing through him and he lets his eyes drift close, taking a much needed breath to slow his racing heart. All the things he’s imagined doing with her filling his vision, his desire for her reaching new heights.
Trusting Sunshine to tell him to stop if he oversteps, Bucky keeps talking, his voice rough with need.
“I think about touching you.”
The soft, breathless sigh of his name has him reaching out, his fingers dangerously close to her wrist, her inviting warmth sending a bolt of electricity throughout his entire body.
At the last moment he pulls back, refusing to give in to the temptation. He can’t, not without her permission, and he’s not sure she’s ready to give it. She might never be. Not if he can’t show her how much he wants her.
“You’re not just an itch I wanna scratch, Sunshine. You’re not an experiment, and you’re sure as hell not just an occasional fantasy.” Her fingers tighten around her bottle and his eyes follow the bend of her elbow, the slight tension in her arms as she pulls her hands back in front of her.
These aren’t the signs of her wanting to pull away. She’s processing what he’s telling her. Questioning the possibilities. Focusing her energy on not jumping to the worst conclusion.
“You fantasize about me?” Hope. Longing. Desire. Need. It’s all there, evidence of her feelings for him.
Fuck.
He almost says it outloud, but he purses his lips, breathing heavily through his nose, ignoring the sudden twitching of his cock. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he focuses on a response. On words. Assurance. That’s all he should be offering right now.
“All the time. For months.” He can’t let any of her worries resurface, taking into account every argument she’s had tonight. “You’re in every fantasy. Every dream. You’re all I want.”
Her reaction feels like slow-motion, her trembling hand reaching out to try to place her water bottle on the counter. Without overthinking, Bucky does it for her, gently taking the bottle from her to set it down, his own hand steady despite the crackle of energy flowing through him.
He won’t let the doubt build, reading all the cues she’s throwing out to cement his hope for their future, watching as she turns around to face him.
“I want all of you. Your mind and your body. Every single fucking inch of you, if you’ll let me.”
Bucky can’t take it anymore. Her surprise and relief palpable as she meets his gaze, forcing him to make the first move, to finally close the distance between them. Still seeking her permission, he reaches out, hovering near her hand, the slight twitch of her fingers encouraging him to softly ask, “Yes or no, Sunshine?”
If she wants this, he has to hear the words. He can’t move forward without them.
There’s no rush as he watches her swallow and open her mouth, the process repeating on a loop until she’s able to fight through it. To give herself permission to move forward with him, even though there’s still so much fear and uncertainty.
“Yes.”
---------------------------
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Keep your eyes on the road (aka an unexpected sex pollen adventure)
Summary: Honestly, this is what Bucky gets for not listening to you.
Characters: Bucky x Reader
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: SMUT 18+ only. Oral sex while driving, sex pollen, sex in a car, bad language, Bucky desperately needing to bang. Also please do not try to replicate this unless you are in fact with a super soldier who has super reflexes, as blow jobs while driving should probably be attempted by super people.
A/N: Is this really my first time writing sex pollen? Yes it is. Is Bucky being needy and desperate kinda fun? Yes it is. Did I enjoy writing this? Yes I most certainly did. I hope you enjoy it too. ;)
*****
The thing is, you told him you didn’t feel like coming on this mission.
And you told him not to open that container with the giant blood red skull on it.
And you told him to to wear a mask.
And you told him to let you drive, but he shouted something about you being a passenger princess before unceremoniously shoving you in the getaway car.
So yeah. You told him all these things.
The thing is, Bucky fumes, glaring at the swerve of headlights advancing in his rearview mirror - he really needs to learn how to fucking listen.
“Shit, shit, shit!” He slams the accelerator to the floor and the car gives a sickening lurch. Beside him, you crack your head on the window, trying to buckle your seatbelt and swearing at the top of your lungs.
“Bucky what the hell’s the matter with you? Just drive.”
“I’m trying,” he snaps. He can feel the flushing prickle of sweat beading down his neck. Rubbing a shaking hand down his face, he blows out a harsh breath. “Why in god’s name is the heater on? Turn that shit off, I’m burning up over here.”
Craning your neck, you watch the headlights gaining. Fumbling for the Glock taped under the seat, you shoot him a confused look.
“The heater isn’t on, it’s freezing in here. I told Steve to fix it and he ignored me because he's a giant asshole.”
Eyes locked on the road, Bucky reaches blindly for the window handle, hurriedly rolling it down. A blast of cold air rushes through the car and he gulps in relief.
“Better, much better,” he mutters. He squints into the rearview mirror again, mentally calculating the time between headlights and taillights, when he feels a twisting wrench in his chest. It sends bursts of heat skimming under his skin, snagging every nerve along the way. A panicked whine slips through clenched teeth. Alarmed, you turn back and meet his wild eyes, sweat now pouring down his face.
“What the - what’s wrong? Bucky? Talk to me!”
When you grab his arm, he visibly recoils.
“No no no, don’t touch me, don’t - ah holy fuck, don’t touch me. If you do, I can’t - I’m gonna put the car in the ditch.”
“You’re scaring me Bucky, what is this?”
He says nothing, deep in thought as his brain runs through the mission on warp speed, trying to identify something, anything, that could possibly -
Wait.
Oh.
Crap.
It's like a sucker punch when he realizes.
“The gold dust that flew out of that container, did any of it touch you?”
“You mean the one I told you not to open but you did it anyway because you can’t follow directions? Bucky what is wrong, you need-“
“Answer me,” he snarls. In the dashboard glow, you see his face pale. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus. “Sorry, sorry, just - please answer. Did any of it get on your skin?”
Baffled, you shake your head.
“No. None of it touched me, it just hit you.”
Bucky nods, relieved.
“Good, okay. Okay. Think I know what this is,” he grits out. Another shudder wracks his body and he grips the steering wheel so hard it squeals in protest. “HRNE-75.”
Your response is a blank stare.
“Am I supposed to know what random letters and numbers mean?”
“It’s a stimulant.”
“Like caffeine?”
“No, like a drug.” You can hear him breathing faster. “Like a - like an aphrodisiac.”
Still a blank stare.
“What kind of aphrodisiac?”
“People call it sex pollen,” he says flatly. “It makes you horny. Like - really fucking horny. And it hurts like hell unless you do something about it.”
“Well, okay. We’ll figure that out when we get home, but for now - “
“I can’t - I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he interrupts. Sweat soaks the collar of his shirt and he shifts uncomfortably, glancing down. Following his gaze, you can see his cock straining against his jeans.
“Jesus Christ. Bucky if you’re in pain, just pull over and let me drive, you can jerk off in the backseat.”
“We don’t have time to pull over, that fucker’s right behind us and if we don’t get us past Steve’s stupid check point, we’re gonna lose him and then the whole mission is wasted and I got sprayed by some bullshit horny dust for no reason and I’m sweating so much right now and I think I’m going to throw up, my dick hurts so fucking bad!”
His voice reaches an hysterical pitch and you press your lips together, choking down the laughter.
“Okay okay, I got it. So if you come, does that stop the pain?”
“Yeah, but doesn’t matter,” his shoulders slump miserably. “We can’t stop yet and I can’t jerk off and drive at the same time. Maybe under normal circumstances I could do it, I mean sure I have done that before because sometimes I get bored driving, but I just don’t have that kind of focus right now baby, I don’t.”
Tremors are rattling through his entire body now, as he fights for control. As he shifts his hips, unconsciously searching for some kind of friction to offer relief, an idea pops into your brain.
“Hey. Let me give you road head.”
His hands slip on the wheel and he double-takes.
“Wha - road head? Like - what does that mean? Like you’d give me a blow job? While I’m driving?”
If this were any other situation, you would tease him mercilessly for the way his voice squeaks, but you smother the urge. Plenty of time for that later.
“Of course. If it helps.”
“But you mean, you’re going to suck my dick? While I’m driving?”
“Love the emphasis on the important words. Yes, I’m going to suck your dick, while you’re driving.”
Bucky bats the idea around, debating whether you’re actually serious and whether he is probably definitely going to drive down a highway at - he checks the speedometer - 145 miles per hour, while you suck his dick. Another wave of heat roils through him and he stifles a groan. Glancing at your expectant face, he gives a shaky nod.
“You’re sure?”
Rolling your eyes, you unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot closer to him.
“It’s not a hardship Buck. You know I’m your dick’s number one fan.” Carefully popping the button on his jeans, you tug down his zipper and he pushes up his hips, struggling to help. The slight pressure on his aching cock already has him whimpering. “Just drive careful, alright? If I die because you wreck Steve’s car while I’m sucking your dick, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Bucky breathes. “Careful. Sure. Whatever you say.”
Grasping him firmly, you lower your head and take his dick all the way down in one smooth move.
“Oh my fucking god,” he shouts, eyes fluttering. “Sweet shit that’s good!”
He keeps one hand in a death grip on the wheel, while he places the other against the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place. Bobbing up and down, your tongue strokes along the ridges of his cock and you feel him swelling impossibly thicker. Tightening your lips, you suck hard, dragging slowly up and he croaks out a garbled plea.
“Keep going, keep going, please keep going.” Beneath your practiced mouth, his entire body begins to vibrate and he grips the back of your neck tight, chanting desperately. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, holy fuck, I’m gonna come.”
He thrusts up, holding your head tight as he comes down your throat. When your fingers scratch along his thigh, his foot inadvertently pushes the accelerator harder. The car climbs to 155 miles per hour and above you, the sound of ragged panting fills the car.
Releasing his dick with a soft lick, you look up and Bucky chokes at the sight of your spit slick, swollen lips curving into a smile.
“That was fast. Feel better?”
He breathes a whispered yes, but you can still see the red flush still spreading down his neck. He swallows hard and grimaces.
“Helped. Definitely helped. Still hurts, but better,” he says faintly and you see his cock is still rock hard. “It’s okay, it’s enough for now, I appreciate the - “
Rolling your eyes, you lean down and take him back in your mouth. Slipping a hand between his legs, your fingers carefully cup the heavy weight of his balls, squeezing gently. The rest of his sentence fades, melting into a rush of fervent praise.
A luscious ache settles in your belly, feeding off the hot desire you feel sparking through him, at the filthy words you hear him whispering above you. If you weren’t driving down a pitch black highway at a completely inappropriate speed, you’d consider reaching down to take care of yourself, but since you’re already flouting the most basic rules of automotive safety, you figure you should keep your hands on Bucky’s balls instead.
Of course, that doesn’t stop you from rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure.
Bucky glances over at your movement, a deep growl rumbling in his chest at the sight. He didn’t think anything could make him harder at this point, but the image of you so turned on by giving him a blow job, does the trick. He grinds his teeth, dangerously close to just pulling over and saying fuck this ridiculous mission. Rubbing his hand between your flexing shoulder blades and slowly bobbing head, his rasping voice carves into you.
“Does this make you feel good? Doin’ this for me? Fuck me, wish I could help you out right now. You’re so damn good to me baby. Moment we stop this car, I’m gonna fuck you so good.”
With his dick buried deep in your throat, your enthusiastic hum of agreement vibrates deliciously and he struggles to keep his eyes on the road. Everything feels incredible. Your tongue curling around the head of his cock, sucking gently on the tip, before sliding back down. The way you swallow around him, the squeeze of your throat, so hot and slick and tight. It feels so god damn good and he’s close again, one more second -
The transmitter sitting in the console squawks to life, an ear piercing siren shocking you both from the lust fueled haze. You jerk off Bucky’s dick in a panic and he nearly screeches at the loss. Scrabbling with the device, he smashes the green TALK button.
“What?! What the fuck do you need, I’m busy.”
“Calm down there, speed racer,” comes Steve’s breezy voice. “Just letting you know we pulled the guy over. Turn around and come back so we can - “
Steve’s voice is abruptly silenced when Bucky crushes the transmitter with an easy squeeze of vibranium fingers. He flings the shattered splinters of plastic into the back seat and slams both feet on the brakes. The car fishtailes across the road, before skidding to a stop in a spray of gravel. Throwing it into park, he flips the lever under his seat and slides back with a mechanical thunk. Scrambling to pull his pants down all the way, he spreads his legs wide and takes his dick in hand. His eyes are dark, blown black when he turns to you.
“We’re safe. Get your pants off and get over here. Now.” he barks.
Grinning at him, you tug on your tac pants, shimmying easily from the stretchy black fabric and clambering into his lap. There is no pretense. Bucky lines himself up and yanks you down, filling your cunt in one rough thrust. You’re so wet, he slides in easy.
“God, Bucky,” you hiss. “That feels so good.”
He tugs on your shirt, pulling everything off until your breasts are bared. His mouth finds a nipple, teeth gently scrapping and tugging, greedily sucking the sensitive peak between his lips. He moves your hips faster, lifting and dragging you down on his cock over and over, until he jerks you down one final time, slams his head against the seat and comes with a long, guttural moan. Deep inside, you feel him pulsing over and over, until you can feel it dripping down your thighs, hot and sticky.
Head tipped back, he struggles to catch his breath and you can see his heartbeat jumping wildly at his throat. When he finally opens his eyes to meet your questioning stare, you can see.
His eyes are still dark.
“Need more?” You smile gently, smoothing sweaty hair from his forehead.
He swallows hard and then nods slowly.
Rocking your hips, you grind down on him and lean in for a deep kiss, sliding your tongue against his. Bucky gives a shuddering sigh, sinking back into the feel of your body rolling against his. Warm hands stroke lightly down your spine and you can feel the thick, heavy weight of him growing hard again between your legs. But waring with the pleasure, a nervous tension seems to grip him.
“Bucky. I’m not made of glass,” you admonish. Licking delicately along his earlobe, he mumbles a string of apologies and your lips trail down his neck, pressing a kiss against that fluttering heartbeat. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. Use me however you need. Make yourself feel good. Just make me come before you’re done. Deal?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he says, shivering uncontrollably at the heady combination of your cool breath and fiery words. “I can do that. ‘Course I’ll do that.”
His hands slide up your back and hook over your shoulders, his fingers splayed over your collarbone. He holds your body firmly in place, thrusting up into you and simultaneously rocking your hips forward. The angle is perfect and you moan at the feel, dizzy with desire as his cock rubs that spot inside just right.
The sounds filling the car are purely pornographic. Wet skin slapping, Bucky grunting with every hard snap of his hips. The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking up your belly, between your breasts, pressing divots into your skin. He stares up at you, his eyes heavy and hooded and utterly adoring, relishing the sight of you grinding your pussy against him. His hand slips between your legs, stroking over your clit, rubbing fast tight circles. He smugly drinks down the breathless gasps he coaxes from you.
“Bucky, I think - I think I’m - ”
The words falter when your hand slams into the car roof and your head falls back, eyes drifting closed. Lust slaps him hard as he watches you come, writhing above him, your voice cracking when you moan out his name again and again.
“That's it, there you go baby,” he whispers roughly. The vision is breathtaking. Stunning. He figures maybe he could get used to sex pollen and a perpetually aching dick if it means he gets to see you like this.
He was already close (again), but the pure pleasure in your face is enough to knock him over the edge. He buries his face between your breasts, pinching your nipple and licking over your skin and your fingers tangle in his damp hair. You hold him tight as he gasps out your name, emptying himself inside you one more time.
And this time, finally, you can feel some of the spring tight tension disappear. His skin is still hot, but the shivers begin to diminish. Rough hands still grip your hips, but it feels controlled. The manic lust begins to fade, leaving a smoldering fire in his chest.
Bucky tips a weary head back and meets your amused expression. A smile tugs the corner of his lips and he shakes his head.
“God damn,” he sighs.
Scratching your nails lazily along his scalp, he leans into your touch, humming like a contented, if slightly feral, kitten.
“Feel better?”
“So much better,” he murmurs. “Sorry that went completely sideways. Wasn’t really expecting that. Obviously enjoyed it, but still. Unexpected adventure.”
Pressing a kiss to his forehead you laugh.
“Next time, maybe don’t open the can with the giant red skull on it. Deal?”
“Deal.”
A comfortable silence settles. Bucky trails his fingers down your arms and you eye him thoughtfully.
“So, do you think they’ll come looking for us?”
“Maybe. Eventually. What should we do while we wait?”
There is a moments pause. And then you begin to roll your hips against him again and Bucky feels the electricity flare to life once more.
“We keep going.”
*****
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