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elryuse · 2 days ago

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Suzy x Male Reader

Smut, Actress has an infatuation with a younger childhood friend

Always On My Mind

Bae Suzy X Male Reader

Tags : Childhood Friends, Vanilla Sex, Extra Intimate and Passionate, Sweaty Sex, Kissing, Romance Words : 4,982 Words

You always called her Noona. Ever since you could remember, Suzy was a constant in your life—a beacon of warmth and comfort. She was two years older, always smiling, always teasing, and always looking out for you. Her black hair framed her delicate features, and her voice carried the kind of assurance only an older sibling—or someone who cared deeply—could muster.

"Noona, wait up!" you called as she walked ahead of you on the way home from school.

Suzy turned, her lips quirking up into a soft smile. "You’re too slow, Y/n. At this rate, I’ll have to carry you home!"

"You’re only saying that because you like showing off," you grumbled, your face flushed from running to keep up.

"Maybe," she said with a wink, "but it’s my job as your Noona to take care of you, isn’t it?"

That’s how it had always been. She was the big sister you never had, but somewhere deep down, you also knew she was something more.

It was a Saturday afternoon, the sky overcast but dry. You were sitting in the small park near your neighborhood, kicking pebbles while Suzy sat on the swing beside you.

“I have to tell you something,” she said softly, her voice lacking its usual playful lilt.

“What is it, Noona?”

She looked at you, her dark eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place—regret, sadness, and maybe a touch of excitement. “I’m leaving. Next week.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. “Leaving? Why?”

“I got accepted into an idol training program in Seoul,” she explained, her hands gripping the swing’s chains tightly. “It’s a huge opportunity for me, Y/n. You understand, right?”

You didn’t understand. Not at all. All you knew was that Suzy was leaving, and the thought of it made your chest ache. “But… what about us? What about… me?”

Her expression softened, and she reached over to ruffle your hair. “Oh, my little Y/n. You’re going to be just fine. Besides, I’ll come back to visit when I can. And you’ll call me, right?”

“I guess…” you muttered, not meeting her gaze.

“Promise me, okay? Promise me you won’t forget about your Noona.”

You nodded reluctantly. “I promise.”

Life went on, as it always does. Suzy’s absence left a void in your heart, but you buried yourself in school and later in college. Occasionally, you’d hear whispers about a girl group named Miss A on social media or from classmates, but you never connected the dots.

Until one evening, your phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number.

“Y/n-ah, it’s me.”

The voice was unmistakable. Your heart skipped a beat. “Noona?”

She laughed softly, the sound like a melody you hadn’t realized you missed. “Still calling me Noona, huh? I’m glad.”

“Where have you been?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly. “It’s been years.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been so busy, but I debuted! I’m in a group now—Miss A. Have you heard of us?”

“Yeah… I think I’ve heard your name around,” you admitted, scratching the back of your head.

“You’re so hopeless,” she teased. “Anyway, I’m back in town for a bit. Let’s meet up. I want to hear everything about you.”

You agreed to meet at the old park where she’d told you she was leaving all those years ago. It was late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows on the ground.

When you saw her, your breath caught. She was still the Suzy you remembered, but something about her had changed. She carried herself with a quiet confidence now, her long hair flowing in waves down her back. Her smile, though, was the same—warm and inviting.

“Y/n,” she called, waving at you.

You approached hesitantly. “Noona…”

She grinned. “Don’t look so scared! I don’t bite.”

“It’s not that,” you said, trying to compose yourself. “It’s just… you look so different now. More… grown up.”

“And you’ve gotten taller,” she teased, poking your arm. “But you’re still the same shy little kid I remember.”

The two of you sat on the swings, just like you had all those years ago. She told you about her life as an idol—the rigorous training, the long hours, the moments of doubt. And you told her about college, about your struggles to figure out what you wanted to do with your life.

“You’ve done so much, Noona,” you said, admiration clear in your voice. “I’m proud of you.”

Her expression softened, and she looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “And I’m proud of you, Y/n. I always knew you’d grow into someone amazing.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the park in twilight, Suzy turned to you, her expression serious.

“Y/n, can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Noona.”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “I’ve missed you. More than I thought I would. And seeing you now… it feels like I’ve been searching for something, and I finally found it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Noona…”

“I know it’s selfish,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t want to be just your Noona anymore.”

The world seemed to freeze. You stared at her, your mind racing. “What are you saying?”

She reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. “I’m saying I want to be more than just your childhood friend. More than just your Noona. I want… I want to be with you.”

The air between you crackled with tension, thick and electric, as Suzy’s words hung in the twilight. Her fingers lingered on yours, soft and warm, and her gaze was unyielding, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“Noona,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the faint rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Her lips curved into a small, nervous smile. “You don’t have to say anything, Y/n. Not yet. Just… let me be honest with you for once.”

She shifted closer on the swing, her knee brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt through you, but you didn’t pull away. How could you? This was Suzy—your Noona, the girl who had always been there, even when she wasn’t.

“All these years,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I convinced myself that I was just your Noona. That I was looking out for you like a sister would. But deep down, I knew it was more than that. Even back then, when we were younger, I felt something… something I couldn’t name. And now, seeing you again—” She paused, her breath hitching. “Now, I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Your heart raced, pounding so loudly you were sure she could hear it. “Noona, I…”

“Shh,” she murmured, placing a finger against your lips. Her touch was feather-light, but it silenced you instantly. “Just let me finish.”

Her hand dropped, and she leaned in, her face inches from yours. Her scent—a mix of citrus and something uniquely her—filled your senses, dizzying and intoxicating.

“I don’t want to leave without knowing,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Without knowing if you feel it too.”

The world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, suspended in this moment. You searched her eyes, dark and endless, and saw the vulnerability she was trying so hard to hide. It mirrored your own—the fear, the longing, the hope.

“Suzy,” you said, her name slipping out before you could stop it. It felt strange, foreign, to call her anything other than Noona. But at the same time, it felt right. Necessary, even.

Her lashes fluttered, surprise flickering across her features. “You called me by my name.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “Because… because you’re not just my Noona. Not anymore.”

A soft gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Before you could process what was happening, she closed the distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and tender.

It was messy, awkward even, born from years of suppressed feelings and stolen glances. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, while yours found their way to her waist, clutching her like she might vanish if you let go.

When she finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together.

“Y/n,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“Me too,” you admitted, your voice rough with emotion. “But I never thought…”

“I know,” she said, cutting you off with another quick kiss. “Neither did I. But now that we’re here… I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Her hands slid down to your shoulders, then lower, tracing the contours of your arms before settling on your chest. You could feel the heat of her skin through the fabric of your shirt, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

“Suzy,” you said, your voice cracking. “Are you sure about this?”

She nodded, her expression serious. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, she stood, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. The park was empty now, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. She led you away from the swings, toward the familiar path that wound through the trees.

Your steps faltered as the implications of what was happening began to sink in. “Wait, Noona—Suzy. Where are we going?”

She glanced over her shoulder, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Somewhere private. Unless you’d rather stay here?”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you shook your head quickly. “N-no, private is good.”

Her laughter filled the air, light and carefree, and she tightened her grip on your hand. “Good. Follow me.”

The walk to her apartment was a blur. Your mind raced, torn between disbelief and anticipation. This was Suzy. Your childhood friend, your Noona. And now…? Now, everything had changed.

By the time you reached her doorstep, your nerves were frayed, your pulse thundering in your ears. She unlocked the door and pulled you inside, kicking it shut behind her. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the soft glow of a lamp in the corner.

She turned to face you, her breath catching as she studied your face. Slowly, she reached up, her fingers brushing against your cheek.

“You’re really here,” she murmured, almost as if she couldn’t believe it herself. “And you’re not running away.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

A slow smile spread across her lips, and she stepped closer, closing the gap between you. Her hands slid up your chest, then around your neck, pulling you down until your lips met hers once more.

This kiss was different—slower, deeper, more deliberate. Her tongue teased at your bottom lip, and you opened for her without hesitation, a low moan escaping your throat as she deepened the kiss. Her body pressed against yours, soft and warm, and you wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close.

When she broke the kiss, both of you were panting, your faces flushed. She took your hand and led you to the couch, pushing you gently onto the cushions before climbing onto your lap. Her knees bracketed your hips, and her hands rested on your shoulders as she gazed down at you.

“I’ve imagined this so many times,” she confessed, her voice husky. “But it’s nothing compared to the real thing.”

Your hands found her hips, gripping them tightly as you looked up at her. “Suzy…”

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me what you want, Y/n. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitched, and your grip on her hips tightened. “I want you,” you admitted, your voice raw with need. “All of you.”

A shiver ran through her, and she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Then take me.”

Her breath caught in her throat as your hands tightened around her hips, pulling her closer until there was no space left between you. The air around you felt electric, charged with the intensity of your shared desire. You could feel the heat radiating from her body, the way her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. Her dark eyes locked onto yours, wide and searching, as if she were trying to pierce through every wall you’d ever built. And for the first time, you didn’t want to hide. Not from her.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. She tilted her head, her mouth parting slightly, inviting you in. But you held back, teasing her, letting the anticipation build until it was almost unbearable. Her fingers dug into your shoulders, urging you forward, but still, you lingered, savoring the way her breath hitched when you finally closed the distance.

The kiss started slow, tentative, as if you were both rediscovering each other after years apart. Her lips were soft, warm, and achingly familiar, yet they carried a sweetness you hadn’t noticed before. Your hands moved from her hips to her waist, sliding up her sides until they found the curve of her ribs. She gasped into your mouth, her body arching into your touch, and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Your tongue brushed against hers, coaxing a low moan from her throat. She tasted faintly of honey and something uniquely Suzy—something that made your head spin and your pulse race. One hand tangled in her hair, gently guiding her head to the side as you kissed her with a hunger that surprised even you. Her fingers slid from your shoulders to the back of your neck, holding you close as if she were afraid you might pull away.

But you had no intention of stopping.

“Noona,” you whispered against her lips, your voice rough with need. “I’ve dreamed of this.”

She shuddered at your words, her grip tightening on your neck. “Y/n…” Her voice was barely audible, trembling with emotion. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

Her confession shattered whatever restraint you had left. With a growl, you pulled her onto your lap, her legs straddling your waist as you claimed her mouth again. This time, the kiss was anything but gentle. It was fierce, demanding, filled with all the longing you’d bottled up over the years. She matched your intensity, her nails scraping lightly against your scalp as she kissed you back with equal fervor.

One hand slid under the hem of her shirt, your fingers skimming the smooth skin of her back. She arched into your touch, a whimper escaping her lips as you traced lazy circles over her spine. Your other hand moved lower, gripping her thigh and pressing her closer until you could feel the warmth of her core against your stomach. The sensation drew a groan from deep within your chest, and you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against hers as you tried to catch your breath.

“Suzy,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “I need to see you. All of you.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t hesitate. Slowly, reverently, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then, with a shy smile, she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her bare skin to your hungry gaze. Her breasts were perfect—full and round, with nipples already hard and begging for attention. You couldn’t resist reaching out, cupping one in your hand and rolling your thumb over the sensitive peak. She gasped, her head falling back as pleasure coursed through her.

“Y/n,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “Please…”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Leaning forward, you captured one nipple in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the hardened bud. She cried out, her hands tangling in your hair as you teased her mercilessly. Your free hand roamed over her body, exploring every inch of her as if committing her curves to memory. When you switched to her other breast, she squirmed in your lap, her hips grinding against yours in a way that made your head swim.

“Noona,” you groaned, pulling away just enough to look up at her. “You’re driving me crazy.”

A wicked smile spread across her lips, and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Then let me take care of you.”

Before you could respond, she slid off your lap and dropped to her knees in front of you. Her hands moved to your belt, deftly undoing the buckle before pushing your pants and boxers down your hips. Your cock sprang free, hard and aching, and she wasted no time taking you into her hand. Her touch was firm but tender, her fingers wrapping around your length and giving you a slow stroke that had your eyes fluttering shut.

“God, Noona…” you groaned, your hands gripping the edge of the couch.

Her lips curled into a smirk, and then she leaned forward, taking the tip of your cock into her mouth. The heat of her tongue was almost too much, and you had to bite back a moan as she swirled it around the sensitive head. Her hand continued to stroke you as her mouth worked its magic, alternating between sucking and licking until you were trembling with need.

“Fuck, Suzy,” you growled, your fingers tangling in her hair. “You feel so good.”

She hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Then, without warning, she took you deeper, her throat relaxing around you as she swallowed you whole. Your hips bucked involuntarily, and she looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes—a stark contrast to the dirty things she was doing with her mouth.

It was too much. The sight of her on her knees, her lips stretched around your cock, her dark eyes locked onto yours… it pushed you dangerously close to the edge. But you weren’t ready to finish—not yet. With a shaky breath, you pulled her off you, ignoring her pout as you lifted her back onto your lap.

“My turn,” you said, your voice thick with desire.

Her breath hitched as you flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs and settling between them. Her panties were soaked, clinging to her wet folds, and you couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the damp fabric. She whimpered, her hips lifting off the couch as you tugged her panties aside, revealing her glistening entrance.

“Y/n,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “Don’t tease me.”

You smirked, dragging your finger through her slickness and drawing a gasp from her lips. “But Noona,” you murmured, circling her clit with your thumb. “Watching you squirm is my new favorite hobby.”

Her response was cut off by a strangled moan as you leaned down, replacing your thumb with your tongue. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet and tangy, and you lapped at her eagerly, drinking in every drop. Her hands fisted in your hair, holding you in place as you explored her with your mouth, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks of your tongue.

“Oh God,” she cried, her back arching off the couch. “Y/n, I’m—I’m—”

She came undone with a cry, her thighs clamping around your head as waves of pleasure washed over her. You continued to lick her through it, gentling your movements until she collapsed back onto the couch, boneless and gasping for air.

When you finally pulled away, she looked up at you with hooded eyes, her chest heaving. “Y/n…” she murmured, her voice weak but filled with affection.

You kissed her softly, letting her taste herself on your lips. “Noona,” you whispered, “I love you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she pulled you into another kiss, pouring all her emotions into it. When you finally broke apart, she wrapped her arms around your neck, holding you close.

“Take me,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “Make me yours.”

Your heart raced as you positioned yourself at her entrance, the tip of your cock pressing against her slick folds. “Are you sure?” you asked, searching her eyes for any trace of doubt.

She nodded, her expression filled with certainty. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With a steadying breath, you pushed inside her, the tight heat of her walls enveloping you in a way that made your vision blur. She gasped, her nails digging into your shoulders as you buried yourself to the hilt.

“Y/n,” she moaned, her voice trembling. “You feel so good.”

You leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as you began to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that had her writhing beneath you. Each thrust drew a soft cry from her lips, and you couldn’t get enough of the sounds she made—the way she whispered your name like a prayer, the way her breathing hitched when you hit just the right spot.

Her hands roamed over your back, her nails leaving faint trails of pleasure-pain that only spurred you on. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent—sweet, floral, and utterly intoxicating.

“Noona,” you groaned, your hips snapping against hers. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

She wrapped her legs around your waist, pulling you deeper. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice husky with need. “I want you to come, Y/n.”

Her words pushed you over the edge. With a guttural groan, you thrust into her one last time, spilling yourself deep inside her as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. She clung to you, her body trembling as she reached her own climax, her walls clenching around you in a way that prolonged your release.

For a moment, everything faded away—time, space, the world outside—leaving only the two of you, connected in the most intimate way possible.

When you finally came down from your high, you rested your forehead against hers, both of you struggling to catch your breath. She smiled up at you, her eyes shining with warmth and affection.

“Y/n,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of emotion. “I love you, too.”

You kissed her gently, savoring the moment. But as you pulled back, a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

“Again?” she asked, her lips curling into a playful smile.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the blinds of Suzy’s apartment, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred awake, your arm draped over her waist, her body warm and still against yours. Her breathing was steady, and for a moment, you just watched her, marveling at how peaceful she looked in sleep. She’s even more beautiful like this, you thought, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled when she saw you. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

“Morning, Noona,” you said, your heart swelling at the sight of her sleepy smile.

She stretched lazily, then propped herself up on one elbow. “I have to go to set today,” she said, pouting slightly. “It’s my music video shoot.”

You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. “I’ll miss you.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned in to kiss you gently. “Why don’t you come with me?” she suggested, her tone casual but her eyes full of hope. “You could see what it’s like behind the scenes. And… I’d love to have you there.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The idea of seeing her work, of being close to her even while she was in her element, was incredibly tempting. “Are you sure? Won’t it be weird?”

Suzy shook her head, her lips curved into a playful smirk. “Everyone will just think you’re part of the crew. Besides, I want you there. Is that so bad?”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Not bad at all.”

---

The set was buzzing with activity when you arrived. Cameras, lights, and people filled the space, creating an electric atmosphere. Suzy immediately took charge, giving directions to her team and chatting casually with the director. You hung back, watching her as she moved with effortless grace, her confidence radiating in every step.

This is her world, you realized, feeling a mix of awe and pride. She belonged here, commanding attention without even trying.

At one point, she glanced over her shoulder and caught your eye, flashing you a quick smile. Your heart raced as she excused herself from the group and made her way over to you.

“How are you holding up?” she asked, her voice low so only you could hear.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though you felt a little out of place among all the chaos. “You’re amazing out there, Noona.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down, suddenly shy. “Thank you,” she said softly. Then, after a pause, she added, “Stay close, okay? I want you near me.”

You nodded, unable to resist the warmth in her tone. As the day went on, you stayed by her side, helping where you could and simply enjoying the chance to be with her. Between takes, she would lean into you, stealing quiet moments of closeness that made your pulse quicken.

During a break, you found yourselves alone in her dressing room. The door clicked shut behind you, and Suzy turned to face you, her expression serious.

“Y/n,” she began, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “I know this is new for us, and… maybe it’s too soon to say this, but…” She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto yours. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this—for us—my whole life.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could respond, she closed the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, your hands roaming over her back as if trying to memorize every curve.

She broke the kiss reluctantly, resting her forehead against yours. “I don’t want to hide this,” she whispered. “I don’t care who sees us. I just want to be with you.”

Her declaration left you breathless. “Noona…”

She pressed her finger to your lips, silencing you. “Don’t overthink it, Y/n. Just be with me.”

Before you could reply, someone knocked on the door, startling you both. “Suzy-ssi, we’re ready for you!” a voice called from the other side.

Suzy sighed, stepping back but keeping her hand in yours. “Come watch,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I want you to see this.”

You followed her back to the set, your heart pounding as you took your place among the crew. The cameras rolled, and Suzy transformed before your eyes, slipping effortlessly into her role. She moved with such precision and passion that it was impossible to look away.

As the shoot progressed, you couldn’t help but notice how often she glanced your way, her smile growing warmer each time. It was as if she were performing for you, pouring her heart into every movement because you were there to witness it.

When the director finally called “Cut!” and declared the shoot a wrap, the room erupted into applause. Suzy bowed graciously, thanking everyone for their hard work, but her gaze kept drifting back to you.

Once the crowd began to disperse, she made her way over, her steps slow and deliberate. “Well?” she asked, tilting her head playfully. “What did you think?”

“You were incredible,” you said honestly, your voice filled with admiration. “I mean, I always knew you were talented, but seeing you like that… it’s unreal.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked down, almost bashful. “Thank you,” she murmured. Then, her expression grew serious. “But you know what the best part was?”

You shook your head, curious.

“Knowing you were watching,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It made everything feel… different. Special.”

Your chest tightened at her words, and you reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. “I’ll always watch you, Noona. No matter what.”

She smiled, a soft, contented smile that made your heart ache in the best possible way. “Good,” she said, leaning in closer. “Because I plan on keeping you around for a long time.”

As the crew began to pack up, Suzy led you to a quieter corner of the set, away from prying eyes. She slipped her arms around your neck, pressing her body against yours. “Now,” she said, her voice low and sultry, “what do you say we continue where we left off earlier?”

Your breath hitched, and you didn’t hesitate. You kissed her deeply, your hands gripping her waist as she melted into you. The sounds of the set faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment.

When she pulled back, her lips swollen and her eyes dark with desire, she gave you a mischievous smile. “My place or yours?” she teased, her tone light but her gaze intense.

You chuckled, your heart racing. “Whichever gets us there faster.”

Her laughter echoed through the empty set as she grabbed your hand and led you toward the exit. But as you reached the door, she paused, turning to face you. “Y/n,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “this isn’t just about tonight. This is… forever. Okay?”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “Okay.”

And as you stepped out into the cool night air, hand in hand with the woman who had once been your childhood friend and was now so much more, you couldn’t help but feel like the universe had finally aligned. For the first time in years, everything felt right.

“Let’s go home,” Suzy said, squeezing your hand.

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lightseoul · 2 days ago

Text

a/n. pleasantly surprised at how quickly i wrote this bit, it practically wrote itself. glad the first part was interesting for a lot of you—i love writing about psych/therapy stuff (despite my complex relationship with 'em), and ofc bkg <3 i honestly don't know where i'm going with this, but it's been fun so far. (0.8k)

navigation. part 1, (you are here), part 3

thankfully—and to the relief of whatever dignity he had left—that interaction was short-lived.

well, it’s mostly because after you blinked at him for what felt like a torturous eternity and said a shaky hello back, he gave you a curt nod as if he wasn’t the one who just initiated the exchange and bolted it out of there without a single glance back.

that bit haunted him for the next few days, reappearing in his consciousness whenever the topic of therapy or anything remotely close to it was broached. he even snapped at kirishima when the redhead asked how his latest session went during one of their evening patrols together. it was a kneejerk reaction, an entirely out-of-proportion, aggressive response that shocked even him, which says a lot.

he should go ahead and text the guy an apology.

eventually, though, that unfortunate powwow slowly faded into the background of his exceptionally busy mind as the days went on. things got so hectic in the agency that he had to postpone his appointment for the week, which—quite frankly—is an upside to this chaos, because he sure wasn’t pumped about discussing his love life, or the lack thereof, with the jarringly knowing middle-aged lady. being able to definitively avoid you and buy you more time to forget about his stupid social blunder is merely the cherry on top.

okay, maybe the incident didn’t actually slip his mind after all.

“…bakugou-san? are you still with me?”

dazed, bakugou squeezes his eyes shut before fluttering them open, and what greets him is the very same lady against the backdrop of her increasingly familiar office, only this time she’s looking more concerned than perceptive.

right. he’s supposed to be in the middle of a session right now.

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of irrelevant thoughts and focus on the matters at hand. therapy is expensive, after all. “i’m here.”

that doesn’t seem to placate the woman who instead prods, much to his chagrin. “you seem out of it today. is there something in your mind that you want us to talk about?”

for a second, he debates caving and just telling her the dumb shit that happened two weeks ago, but then backtracks when it dawns on him how ridiculous everything is. what is he, a prepubescent boy? he died and survived a major war, for fuck’s sake. why is he so hung up on seeming awkward for once in his life?

even hearing it in his head is embarrassing enough.

that settles it, then. his lips are and will remain sealed.

but then his gaze refocuses on his therapist, and the sheer ‘unconditional positive regard’ or whatever the crap is called that she’s radiating becomes so palpable that it just spills out of him.

“i fucked up.”

that makes the lady frown—which, if he thinks about it, is understandable, because he rarely opens up about his failures, let alone this blatantly—although she manages to quickly school her expression into a more neutral one. “can i ask you to expound on it?”

at that, bakugou sighs, because it’s either he just tells the laughable truth or actually cite one of his actual mistakes—which he’s not feeling right now, by the way. or he can expertly maneuver the conversation to another topic, but something tells him there’s no getting out of the current subject. maybe today, there is, but it’ll surely loom over their next sessions indefinitely until either of them revisits it.

he should know. it’s happened to him too many times, he’s lost count.

with this realization, he can only sigh again.

“it’s stupid,” he preempts.

“i’d like to hear it regardless,” comes her classic, supportive response.

and so he does it. talk, that is. it starts off a bit rough—he didn’t know how to even begin without flushing like an idiot, but he managed to get the brief anecdote going. he still ended up blushing anyway—the warmth in his cheeks was undeniable—and if she noticed, she gratefully didn’t point it out. by the time he’s finished with the trivial tale, he’s mildly out of breath, having said everything in one continuous burst.

“i told you,” he spits when she doesn’t say anything for a beat. “it’s stupid.”

“i’d normally ask you to reconsider the adjectives you use for yourself and your experiences, but i think you’ve heard enough of that.”

he snorts. damn straight.

the woman then shoots him a smile, and he has to tamp down the reflex to bristle at an impending attempt to placate him. fortunately, it doesn’t come.

what does, instead, is a question.

one that catches him completely off guard.

“did you find her attractive?”

the fuck, is his first, immediate thought.

but then his normally trusty and acute brain seemingly comes to life and promptly supplies a second one that leaves him frozen and utterly dumbfounded.

yes.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

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yourpolaropposite · 2 days ago

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Why am I suddenly getting all the Sam and max fandom in my fyp? I’ve literally never seen, said, or heard anything about Sam and max until today?! I’m not complaining at all in fact I’m glad I’m here.

but HUH?!????!?!!!!??

yeah

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whateveriwant · 15 hours ago

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Annoying Things the 141 Do

Price

Never cleans the sink well after he shaves. Every time you go in the bathroom after he’s trimmed his beard, it’s like walking into a crime scene of a hamster massacre

Always manages to load the dishwasher wrong (because, yes, there is a right way and a wrong way to do it, John)

Asks you to wait for him to get home so you can watch your shows together, but then as soon as you start the first episode, he falls asleep beside you

Smokes his cigars inside sometimes. I don’t care that you sprayed air freshener afterwards, sir. Now the whole house smells like spring meadow and shit!

Is incapable of closing the door behind himself?? At least, that appears to be the case since he’s always leaving your door wide open even though you ask him to shut it when he goes

Doesn’t like throwing things out because he’ll “find a use for it one day”. Even if that day ever does come, I think he has a better chance of finding Atlantis than finding that scrap piece of wood he saved four years ago

Ghost

Turns the TV on and then just… walks away??? And if you try to change it to something else, he grumbles “I was watchin’ tha’” when he comes back

Drinks milk/juice/etc. straight out of the carton. Mr Simon “Patient Zero” Riley might not see the problem with this, but I think the rest of us would agree that is diabolical behavior

Leaves his wet towel on the floor after he showers even though the towel rack is right? there?

Hates asking for help even when he has no clue what he’s doing. Like, sure, I get wanting to fix things yourself. However, I’d rather spend $100 on a simple repair than $1000 on a full replacement after he breaks the thing even more

Puts his phone calls on speaker whenever possible. While this can have its merits sometimes (you get firsthand news of Gaz’s engagement!), most of the time it feels like a nuisance (do you really need to hear Soap talk about his hemorrhoids?)

MANSPREADERRRR! This man cannot sit like a civilized being to save his life. He claims he sits like that because his balls need to breathe, and to that I say good luck trying to breathe after I karate chop you in the throat :))))

Soap

Cuts his toenails in bed, which wouldn’t necessarily be an issue if he didn’t accidentally leave one or two rogue clippings that stab you in the side later when you’re trying to get comfortable

Forgets to put the toilet seat down when he gets up in the middle of the night to pee – that or he pisses all over the seat in the dark. Either way, prepare to have wet cheeks the next time you sit on the toilet

Whenever he doesn’t feel like doing the laundry, he just buys a new set of whatever’s dirty (that’s how he ended up with 100 pairs of socks and 200 pairs of underwear)

Talks nonstop through every show/movie you try to watch. Good luck getting more than five minutes of uninterrupted runtime next to this yapper

Apparently, doesn’t understand what “one bite” means? Whenever he asks you for a bite of your food, he always ends up taking five or six

Also, apparently doesn’t know how to chew with his mouth closed? Like, I’m glad you’re enjoying your meal, Johnny, but can you enjoy it without speckling it all over the table and my face?

Gaz

Two words: bathroom hog. I hope you don’t like taking hot showers or having more than a 6x6 inch square of counter space for your stuff, because after Kyle’s done with his 30-step beauty routine, there’s little of either left

Never knows what he wants to eat for dinner, and no matter what you suggest, he never thinks it sounds good

Has the gall to chastise you for your screen time even though he’s just as bad as you, if not worse (because you being on your phone before bed is so much worse than him playing video games for nine hours straight, right?)

Rests his feet on the couch/bed/coffee table while wearing shoes. It doesn’t matter if they’re brand new or beaten up; take your damn shoes off the furniture, sir!

Never writes down the shopping list because he’ll “remember everything”. (Newsflash: he does not remember everything, which means cue taking a second trip to the store)

Watches one documentary and thinks he’s an expert on the subject. You can have studied a thing for years, can present him with a bunch of rock solid facts and reputable sources, and he’ll hit you with a “Well, actually ☝️🤓” and then proceed to give the most nonsensical take ever

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not-magdi · 2 days ago

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-it has always been you / lando Norris

Warnings: Alkohol, some weird dude

Words: 1.5k

Reading Time: 6min 25sec

A/N

Some cute friends to lovers trope cause I‘m bored :)

Hope you love it !

Y/N and Lando had been inseparable for years. Their friendship had started in the most unexpected way—a fateful encounter at a karting event when they were kids.

Y/N’s brother had been racing that day, and she had found herself sitting alone on a cold metal bench, watching the drivers zip around the track. Lando, always full of energy and curiosity, had plopped down beside her, still in his racing suit and smelling faintly of rubber and fuel.

“You look bored,” he had said with a cheeky grin.

“I’m not,” she had replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Yes, you are,” he had insisted, before launching into an animated explanation of how he was going to win the championship one day. That was the start of it all.

Over the years, they had become best friends, sharing everything from late-night texts about random thoughts to spontaneous road trips when life felt too heavy. Y/N was one of the few people who truly understood Lando’s hectic lifestyle, and in turn, Lando was her anchor in a world that sometimes felt overwhelming.

But while their friendship had always been easy and natural, Y/N had been harbouring feelings for Lando for quite some time. She’d never acted on them, fearing it would ruin the bond they had. And she was convinced Lando didn’t feel the same way. Why would he? He was charming, successful, and adored by fans worldwide.

-----

Tonight, their friends Max and Pietra had insisted on a night out. Y/N had initially resisted, claiming she was too tired, but Pietra wasn’t having it.

“Come on, Y/N,” Pietra had said, practically dragging her off the couch.

“You never go out anymore. You need this. Besides, we can all use a little fun.”

“Don’t worry,” Lando had chimed in with his usual playful smirk. “I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself too much.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Y/N had shot back, rolling her eyes but secretly glad he was coming.

-----

The club was alive with energy, a pulsating mix of lights and music that seemed to electrify the room. Y/N followed Max, Pietra, and Lando through the crowd, her senses overwhelmed in the best possible way. The air was heavy with the scent of perfume, alcohol, and the faint metallic tang of sweat, but it was all part of the atmosphere.

Max was the first to hit the dance floor, his exuberance unmatched as he flailed his arms in exaggerated, dramatic moves. “This is my signature!” he shouted over the music, spinning in a circle.

Y/N burst into laughter, holding onto Pietra for balance as the latter tried to mimic his wild movements. “Max, you look ridiculous!” she called out, but her voice was nearly drowned out by the pounding bass.

“That’s the point!” he yelled back, sticking his tongue out before attempting a failed moonwalk.

Lando lingered close to Y/N, his usual cheeky grin plastered on his face. “Remind me to never let him dance at my wedding,” he joked, leaning in so she could hear him better.

“You say that like you’re not just as bad,” Y/N quipped, shooting him a playful glance.

“Excuse me,” Lando replied, feigning offence. “I have moved. You’re just not ready for them.”

“Oh, I’m ready,” she teased, her smile wide.

Lando nudged her shoulder with his, chuckling. “We’ll see about that.”

They found a spot near the edge of the dance floor, where Lando casually leaned against the wall, his eyes occasionally scanning the room. But his gaze always seemed to find its way back to Y/N. She was laughing more than usual, her face glowing in the neon light. He couldn’t help but admire how the stress of her week seemed to melt away.

“You having fun yet?” he asked, leaning down so his lips were close to her ear.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes bright. “Actually, yeah,” she admitted, her shoulders relaxing as the rhythm of the music washed over her.

Pietra returned moments later, handing Y/N a cocktail in a glass rimmed with sugar. “Here, try this. It’s amazing,” she said, her excitement evident.

Y/N took a tentative sip, her lips puckering slightly at the sweetness. “Wow, that’s good.”

“See? Told you!” Pietra beamed before disappearing back into the crowd with Max.

Y/N took another sip, then another. The drink was deceptively light, the alcohol masked by the sugary flavour. Before long, Pietra was back with another, and Y/N—caught up in the excitement—didn’t hesitate to take it.

By the time she was halfway through her third drink, the room felt warmer, the lights brighter, and her laughter came easier. Everything seemed a little funnier, a little lighter as if the weight she had been carrying all week had finally lifted.

“Easy there,” Lando said when she stumbled slightly, catching her by the arm before she could lose her balance. His grip was steady, grounding.

Y/N looked up at him, her giggles bubbling over. “What? I’m fine!” she insisted, though her unsteady footing said otherwise.

“You’re having a little too much fun,” he teased, his voice warm but laced with concern.

“Isn’t that the point of tonight?” she shot back, her words slurring slightly.

Lando chuckled, his hand lingering on her arm as he guided her back to a less crowded spot. “Alright, I’ll give you that. But maybe slow down a bit?”

“Party pooper,” she mumbled, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his grin. Y/N rarely let loose like this, and while he loved seeing her happy, a part of him couldn’t shake the need to keep her safe.

As they stood off to the side, Y/N’s attention was caught by a man weaving his way through the crowd toward her. She didn’t notice the way Lando’s posture tensed, his playful demeanour replaced by a quiet vigilance.

The man stopped in front of her, his height forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. “Hey there,” he said, flashing what he probably thought was a charming smile. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Y/N offered a polite smile, stepping back slightly. “Oh, I’m just here with friends.”

He didn’t take the hint. “Well, lucky for me I found you. Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks,” she replied, her voice tight. She glanced at Lando, who was already stepping closer.

The man leaned in, his tone dropping. “Aw, come on. Just one.”

Before Y/N could respond, Lando was at her side, his arm slipping around her waist with practised ease. The gesture was protective but natural as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Everything okay?”

Y/N looked up at him, her relief palpable. “Yeah,” she murmured, leaning into his side.

The man’s expression shifted, annoyance flickering across his face. “Didn’t realize she was taken,” he muttered, backing off with a forced smile.

“Yeah, she is,” Lando said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the man disappeared into the crowd, Y/N exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank you,” she said, looking up at Lando with wide eyes.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his hand lingering on her waist for a moment longer before letting go. “Let’s get some air.”

-----

Outside, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the heat of the club. Y/N shivered slightly, and without a word, Lando shrugged off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

“Lando, you’ll freeze,” she protested, though she made no move to take it off.

“I’ll survive,” he said with a small smile. “Besides, you need it more than I do.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the distant hum of the city filling the air. Y/N clutched his jacket, her mind replaying the scene from the club.

“When you said you were my boyfriend…” she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It… it made me feel something. Something good.”

Lando turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushing. “I know you were just pretending, but… I’ve thought about it before. You and me.”

He stepped closer, his heart pounding. “You have?”

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “For a while now. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

Lando reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. “Y/N,” he said softly. “I’ve liked you for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You wouldn’t ruin anything,” she whispered, meeting his gaze.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the world around them fading away. Then, slowly, Lando leaned in, giving her every opportunity to pull away. She didn’t. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss that deepened as their feelings finally found an outlet.

When they pulled apart, Y/N smiled, her forehead resting against his. “So… not just pretending, then?”

“Not even a little bit,” he replied, his voice warm and full of affection.

As they walked back into the club, hand in hand, Max and Pietra spotted them immediately.

“About time,” Max said with a grin, clinking his glass against Pietra’s.

Y/N and Lando laughed, but neither let go of the other’s hand for the rest of the night.

——-

Don’t forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !🩷

#lando norris fluff #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris oneshot #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #mclaren f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris fanfic

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bluemerakis · 3 days ago

Note

that last sb fic 🫡 i owe you everything for that BUT i do have a request that's been rotting in my brain for days and i need someone as talented as u to give it a go

soldier boy x vought exec daughter!! the power play, the (healthy) age gap, forbidden desires????!!! need it, thank u, i love ur work

first off, i’m so so glad you enjoyed the fic anon! 😭 you’re making my heart incredibly full with the lovely compliment!! mwah!

secondly, that pairing is actually to die for??? wait i need it too. I GOTCHU!! thank you for trusting me with this wonderful wonderful idea, i hope i did it justice!! never stop using that amazing mind of yours to brainstorm these pairings 🩵

─ ۶ৎ ─

────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ────

❝ synergy ❞

part i

─ ۶ৎ ─

pairing ୨୧ soldier boy x vought!exec!daughter

warnings .ᐟ cussing, porn with plot, age gap, power play, reader has daddy issues (sorry this just makes it so much hotter), slow-burn enemies to … hate-sex partners, i guess lmfao; pet names, tension thick enough to cut with a knife, soldier boy just being typically insufferable in the best way ever

synopsis ─ as the daughter of vought’s executive director, you’ve got a pivotal role to play in the upkeep of the company. that means keeping payback in check—uniforms, brands, rehearsed speeches, and keeping a clean mouth (and nose) on the leader of them all—soldier boy.

the last task seems impossible to achieve, especially when the lead supe seizes all opportunities to get beneath your skin, and your skirt, during your every interaction. it makes working with him mostly insufferable, but you can’t deny the unspoken tension between the two of you—a tension that vouches for the slither of you that craves anything other than fleeing his presence.

word count ~ 9k

──────────────────────

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, sweetheart, this job’s going to be tough on you.”

You listened to your father speak from where you stood only a few inches away from his desk—hands looped tidily behind your back, chin tilted upward in poise, and expression carved from the same stone that had built this building up from the ground. Honestly, you currently felt no different than a troop standing at their superior’s attention. And yet, you knew that it’d been by design. Your father’s design.

You tried not to pay too much mind to the way his use of sweetheart pricked the hairs of your neck. It was a name your father had spent years branding as your own term of endearment, but knowing what you knew about him, and what you meant to him, the term felt more like belittlement. You hated it.

You couldn’t help but hitch your brows at his statement—a brisk act of defiance that vanished almost as quickly as it’d come. Growing up, your father had never been anything but tough on you, and it’s a scar you’d carried well into adulthood. So you would have thought that, by now, he’d have learnt to stop doubting your capabilities.

A girl can dream, right? Because at the end of the day, entering your father’s company meant that you were fresh meat, and taking on this job wasn’t so much like being tossed into the lion’s den as it was being fed directly into the jaws of this man-operated corporate. It was a suffocating environment, but no different to the air you’d grown accustomed to breathing in the artificial circumstances of your upbringing.

After all, your father had practically raised you for this job.

You watched as the man of your nightmares circuited his unkempt desk with a chilled whiskey clutched at the ready, his hair the type of unruly that could have only been styled by a stressed hand. His head was tilted down to the ground, eyes studying his every step as though your existence before him had never been fathomable to begin with. Or demanding of the sort of respect that warranted even a second of eye contact.

His free hand whisked through the air as he spelled out all sorts of gestures tinged with subtle exasperation. “You’re going to be working with Supes,” he continued, glass lifting to his lips to down an eager gulp, as though the mere term was a distasteful pill to be swallowed. You caught his jaw unclenching for the first time this evening as his tongue waltzed with the liquor, and once the sip had lost its frisk, he discarded it with a swallow and a grunt of pleasure.

The scene before you had you stifling a wry grin. Supes were no saints, your father had always disclosed that much to you—but this? Drinking at the mere mention of them? Your father could be easily rattled at times, but for the most part, he was overly talented at holding his temper together when it came to dealing with. . . alternative groups. And drinking was a vice he’d long since worked hard to wean himself off of—for the most part, at least. So, if this atypical demeanour of his was the haunting preview for the horrors you were about to endure on this job, you knew you were in for one hell of a ride.

Your father continued his disgruntled pacing to round the corner of his desk, where he took up his throne and settled into its comfort with a dramatic creak. There, in the symbolic comfort of his importance, he found it in himself to finally acquaint your eye at last. A king addressing his lesser subject.

“Most of these Supes have been around since before me—some senility modifications they’d worked into the compound V formula. Has them looking not a day over forty,” he explained sullenly, as though perturbed by the science of it all. “Regardless of those insignificancies, the knowledge of their alterations make them presumptuous, it makes them insolent, but most importantly, it makes them dangerous—a liability, if you will.”

“A company’s kryptonite,” you droned suddenly, breaking your unspoken vow of silence with words that made your father’s lips curve up in satisfaction—and why wouldn’t it? They were his words, after all, words he’d spent all your growing years imbuing into your vocabulary of his selection so that you were not unlike his shadow. A part of you wondered, out of spite and just for a fleeting second, how he’d react to you finally stepping out of it and into your own light. Into your own legacy. Maybe, this job would be exactly the way to do it—the start of something new, born of something ancient.

“Precisely,” your father hummed gleefully, studying you though a slight narrowing of his eyes that told you all you needed to know—that he was currently admiring the fruits of his labour. His life’s work. You, a fail-safe investment, should his time to bite the dust arrive abruptly. “I taught you well,” he added with a suffocating smugness.

You taught me obedience, you retorted silently. But because he was always right, you offered a faux smile of agreement. “I’ve got big shoes to fill,” you said—lacquering his ego, maybe, but simultaneous making your future favours all the more sizeable. “I can’t give anything less than my absolute best.” He taught you that, too. Repeatedly. A mantra forged with every intent to instil a festering fear of failure, rather than nurture any hopes of sure succession. A grenade he’d planted within you, one hand always on the pin, just waiting to implode all that you were at the first mistake.

Your father never could refuse another flower in his bouquet of self-importance, so he received your praise with greedy palms, utterly oblivious to the spiteful thorns furled around their metaphorical stems—thorns that you vowed would eventually come back around to nip him where it hurt.

You watched his lips quirk with a smile that felt deeply displaced—like he’d been given a brief rundown of what to do, but lacked the practice to perfect it authentically. “Your mother would be proud,” he declared suddenly.

Admittedly, those words made the air catch in your throat for a brief second—your airways thickening with some unresolved emotion that made your lungs stutter for their next breath. You blinked in rapid succession, as if flipping through the pages of the behavioural manual your father had written into your code for instances that threatened to usurp your composure. Instances like these. But there was nothing that could’ve prepared you for your emotionally-uninvested father taking a casual stroll down memory lane.

You settled for a thick swallow and a slight perking of your chin, brows kneading with a purpose meant to push forward a steadfast narrative, but was really just a show of your greatest restraint. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” you pushed out bravely—but there was a slight hitch in your tone that you hoped your father’s attuned senses hadn’t snagged.

You’d never truly known your mother—she’d walked out of your life before you’d even learnt to crawl. But despite her apparent abandonment, your father had never failed to recall her memory in warmth—when he did bring her up. So you thought, then, that she couldn’t have been all that bad—and that, maybe, if she’d stuck around, she could have saved you from his bone-chilling, mind-numbing tundra of a heart.

Your father absentmindedly twirled his partially-emptied glass at the rim, eyes hovering on you for a duration that began nudging at your unease. They were narrowed, calculating. It was the same look he wore anytime he reviewed new proposals to implement—or those to scorn and discard without a second glance. It had always been a gift of his, to be an enigma never telling of which decision he’d eventually settle on, and it made you squirm more than you’d have liked to admit.

Eventually, he uttered a simple hm, your heart lurching at the cryptic noise—he, who always voiced his verdict with the intent for the world to hear it, settling on a sound so indefinite. Then, he drew in a deep, decided breath as he craned himself forward in his throne, free hand unfurling across the expanse of his cluttered desk to pluck up some folder he’d clearly set aside for this very conversation.

Slowly, he lifted it in your direction, a silent beckon for you to shed your salute and approach him at last. You obeyed on slightly wobbly legs drawn into rigidity by a show of confidence, striding over to a cover a distance close enough to snag the file, but not close enough to be drawn into his consuming orbit. “What’s this?” You asked, eyes buckling to skim the folder’s title for an answer that would precede your father’s.

Payback. The name placed immediately amongst the ranks of your knowledge. The super-abled team of heroes that the entirety of new York had practically claimed their new religion—deserving of praise and worship and altars in the form of billboards and big screens that spanned every skyscraper in view. The gods that could, would, and should do no wrong, according to the sheep of America. But wiser men could see through the white robes. Wiser men, like yourself, knew that Payback were nothing more than wolves loitering on the horizon, discreetly thinning out the naive herd. One by one—so sparse as to go unnoticed by the masses.

So, the question begged whether the file you currently held was cluttered with information intended to inform, or blackmail designed for your shortcomings to contain them.

“Open it,” your father instructed, earning a mildly wide-eyed glance from you. He lifted his glass with a glare that looked grim, then drained the last of the whiskey that had been slowly drowning in the glass keep as he waited for you to follow through.

You did, eventually, after watching him set down his glass, but flipping open the cover was driven by greedy curiosity, rather than the need to obey his every command—as you often found yourself doing. Your palm fanned beneath the spine to support both ends of the file as your other hand began flipping through the information-heavy sleeves.

Black Noir, Crimson Countess, Gunpowder—all the ridiculous names you tried not to pay too much attention to as you flitted through the pages. You skimmed through enough of the information to deduce that you were practically holding an old-school Wikipedia on each of Payback’s members, and it was a finding that had your heart sagging an inch lower into your chest with the sheer disappointment of it all.

You didn’t doubt that your father was hounding all the good stuff for himself. You also didn’t doubt that he’d ever hand you the key to that safe willingly. He trusted you with enough to become the skeleton of his company, but not the heart, lungs and soul of it all—hoarding the deepest, darkest secrets that would send the entire organism collapsing should it ever become public knowledge.

Fair enough. You’re new on the job. And you’re not him��even though he’d spent years trying to make you enough of a splitting image. Hell, you’re not even the child he wanted. You were the exception—the lemons he’d had to utilise to create worthwhile lemonade. You supposed that this job was your own sack of lemons to turn into something worthwhile, and that your father would have to have a taste of it before deciding when you’d have access to the more exciting information.

You hadn’t bothered to page toward the end of the file, the exploration terminating a rough three quarters in, where a picture of The TNT Twins stared back at you. You couldn’t have glanced away faster to relieve the discomfort their beady stares evoked. “What am I supposed to do with this?” You asked your father bluntly.

His hands were folded together now, elbows resting promptly atop his desk. At some point during your brief reading, he’d run another hand through his hair to recollect the class he often modelled throughout the hallways of Vought’s building. He looked almost respectable again. “Research,” he said.

“Research?” You echoed. “I’ve already done my research. And there’s nothing in here that I don’t already know. I doubt—”

“Do it again,” he cut in firmly. It sent a chill down your spine. With your lips pressed into a silent, sullen line, you watched his elbows slink from the frame of his desk as he settled back into his throne. His chin perked up as though needing to re-establish his elevated status, even from where he sat below you. “If you are to be the new manager of those Supe scoundrels, you will need to know everything there is to know about them. Every minuscule detail. From their first names, to their family history, down to every last transaction they’ve ever made.”

Manager? Of Payback? You reiterated silently. And it made your cheeks burn hot. That’s the so called job your father had been making a fuss over? That’d you’d paid all the years of your life toward preparing for? It was the coldest bucket of ice water your father could’ve dumped atop your head, but it did nothing to quench and cool the fire you felt bristling within.

The file’s covers clapped together as you closed it and held it against your chest, where you heaved an exasperated breath beneath the provided cover. “So you want me to micromanage a bunch of reckless superheroes?” You asked with practiced patience—your tone cool and level despite the irritation drawing your jaw rigid. This was not the job you’d expected after all you’d endured. After all the relentless, soul-sucking training your father had subjected you to.

Your father’s gaze narrowed in on your expression with unveiled scrutiny, and your heart must’ve felt it through the stack of paper shielding it because it began to thump rapidly. “You’re perfect for the job,” he said decidedly, and it felt like a dagger had pierced your chest to still the earthquake within your heart that had been rattling you from within. “We all had to start somewhere, sweetheart. My father didn’t hand me the other rein to the company until I’d learnt how to mount the horse without a leg-up.”

You began stroking your thumb across the file’s cover in calming patterns as you held your father’s stare. “I’m capable,” you pushed out tensely. “You know I am.” I was made for more.—that’s all you’ve ever told me. So what fucked up game are you playing with me right now?

“You are,” he agreed nonchalantly, as though oblivious to the dagger he kept on plunging further and further into your heart. “And that’s why I’m not trusting just anybody to nurture the faces of this company. I’m trusting you.”

Oh, is that right? You laughed bitterly. Silently.

A long time ago, you’d made peace with the knowledge of the childhood you’d never gotten—friends, parties, terrestrial playtime, being care-free. You’d made peace with it because you hoped you’d have had the job to compensate your losses. A job worth a damn. But this? Helicopter parenting a bunch of super-abled, overgrown babies with scorching tempers? It felt like the biggest, rankest pile of stinking shit had been hurled at the door of your housed self-respect. Yet, a part of you felt anything but surprised—the part of you that shared your father’s DNA, and that knew exactly how his brain worked.

Clutching the file against your chest even tighter than before, you drew in a calming inhale, your lips settling on words of peace. “Okay,” was all you offered, knuckling under to avoid starting a war you knew you wouldn’t win. Not now, at least. Not anytime soon. But you’d show him. When the time was right, and you’d collected all the right cards from the corporate deck, you’d show your father just how much you were capable of achieving.

A satisfied hum reverberated in his chest. “Wonderful,” he said, shifting forward in his seat to whisk a hand through the city of stacked paperwork erected along his desk. “Tomorrow morning, I’ve arranged a meeting with Payback. I’ll have you introduced to the group and leave you all to get better acquainted. I expect Soldier Boy might make a show, but word has it that he’s just been plucked from another one of his benders in some city slump.”

Your father’s head shook disdainfully as he recalled the reported skirmish. “I don’t bother to hassle myself with that Supe’s shenanigans, anymore. This isn’t the first time that fool’s nearly dragged Vought’s name through the sewers with his reckless addiction,” he grumbled, glancing up at you with another file he’d plucked from some part of his desk. “As the new manager, you’ll have to keep an extra close eye on that one, sweetheart. Here,” he added, lifting the extra-reading in your direction.

You leaned forward to receive the folder, rotating it to decipher the upside-down text. Soldier Boy. You couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that he had his very own folder separate from the rest of the group. Oh, he had to be trouble, alright.

Out of curiosity, you tore your gaze away from the new addition to glance at your father. “What happened to the last manager, anyway?”

His head had buckled again to rummage through pages laden with script you couldn’t discern. “It’s logged in the last few pages of Soldier Boy’s records,” he said distractedly.

There was a lot to question about that single sentence, but you settled for the most prompting one. “Records?” You echoed with a frown.

Your father hummed confirmation. “You’ll need to log everything Soldier Boy gets up to. It’s the conditions the board settled on last time he was picked up from some party he’d turned bloody. You have to account for all hours of his day, make sure he’s rehearsed his written speeches before airings, and that he’s not floating in the skies of narcotics throughout it all. Though, the last task has proved impossible as of late. I don’t doubt he’s got an inside man supplying him. But with everything else Vought’s got going on, we can’t spare the men to hound that particular trail. As long as he keeps his nose clean while on the job,” he finished dryly, as though he knew his hope was severely misplaced.

Your frown deepened spitefully as you heeded Soldier Boy’s repute. “Why the hell is somebody like him still running this show? He clearly can’t even keep his own life together.”

Your outburst didn’t come as a surprise to your father, whose attention didn’t stray from his desk to soothe you. “No, he can’t,” he agreed. “But he’s been around long enough to warrant the hassle. Vought’s name has piggybacked off of Soldier Boy’s past—propaganda and all—for years, now. So, you try discreetly removing America’s sweetheart from the company and dealing with the outrageous consequences of the masses.” He laughed wryly.

“Besides, as insane as it might sound, we have better control over what that imbecile gets up to under this company’s roof. There’s no telling what bullshit he might spew to the streets if he was let go from his pride and joy.”

You pressed both files against your chest, eyebrow hitching thoughtfully. “Is there no way to. . . you know, neutralise him?” You asked carefully, half-expecting your father to whip you with a horrified glare. But it seemed as though your words were as natural as the next breath he took.

“We’ve tried,” he said simply, still fixated on the documents sprawled out before him. “We can’t. Not yet, at least. But they are working on a way to contain him.”

Your interest piqued greedily. This was the type of company secrets you’d hoped to get a taste of—important details. Something worth a damn. “Who’s they? And how?”

That was enough of a probe to earn his attention finally. He halted whatever document he was sorting through, eyes upturned to yours with an earnest glint. “You need not worry about that, sweetheart.” You bit down on your tongue woefully. “All I need you to do right now, is make sure that Payback is on their best behaviour. And keep Soldier Boy in check.”

The disappointment throttled your chest, making it hard to breathe and form any genuine words to acknowledge your purpose. So you watched in silence as your father averted his gaze to reach for a loose pile of documents, humming absentmindedly as he gathered them into a neat assembly. He paused to do a sweep of his desk before setting on his stationary box, where he reached to take up a stapler. He seemed to have forgotten you were here entirely.

“Is that all?” You piped up eventually.

The stapler hovered along the corner of the stacked pages as he glanced up at you briefly. “That’ll be all,” he confirmed. “Oh, and the meeting will be at eight a.m tomorrow morning,” he added.

“Right,” you murmured, trying your best to lighten the sound into something that resembled excitement, or at the very least, acceptance. “Goodnight,” you offered meekly, and with tonight’s work clutched tightly in both hands, you turned on your heels to make an exit.

You’d barely gotten into the rhyming click-clack of your departure before your father’s voice rung out across the space. “Sweetheart?”

You came to a slow halt, casting an apprehensive glance over your shoulder. “Yes, dad?”

He’d laced his fingers atop his desk, like a judge about to rule a decision. “Watch your back,” he advised, his expression softening into something that almost looked like concern. But you hadn’t thought it humanly possible of him. “Especially around Soldier Boy. He’s crude, and exploitative, and he won’t hesitate to try and sink his fangs into you.”

The corner of your lip quirked dryly. He didn’t sound like much of a challenge you weren’t already used to encountering on a day-to-day basis. “I can handle Soldier Boy,” you assured him.

His chin dipped in the slightest of nods—curt, but enough of an acknowledgement that made you yearn for another taste of his approval. You chided that voice. The voice of the little girl who’d done everything to mimic the exact footsteps her father had laid out amongst the sand. The little girl who’d rarely gotten praise for her many victories, but had been endlessly berated for her sparse failures. You silenced her.

When the time was right, when you’d worked hard enough to make something for yourself, you’d allow that voice to have a say once more. Only then, it wouldn’t voice pleas for your father’s approval, or beg for scraps of his company. It would be to acknowledge your own hard work, to raise up your own status, and to give yourself the encouragement you’d always sought from him.

You returned your father’s nod, and without lingering on him any longer, you turned and finally exited his office.

As you clattered down the winding hallways muffled by nighttime’s silence, your gaze drifted over to the looming windows in passing, noting how the sky’s starry army saluted you at intervals. You made a beeline for the elevator up ahead, which stood open in waiting, and thankfully, with nobody else inside. You slipped into the tiny, four-walled space and hit the button for your floor, watching as the doors trailed close with a rather dramatic creak. Definitely behind on maintenance. When you reached your designated floor, the elevator dinged and parted for you to step into the open, which you did hastily.

Your eyes bowed with exhaustion now. You’d need to brew a pot of coffee as soon as possible if you had any hopes of powering through your work in preparation for tomorrow. As you made your way down the hall, you heard the elevator depart behind you. Somebody must’ve pushed the summons button, and you hoped they weren’t en route toward your floor. The thought daunted you a bit, hastening your steps toward the door marking your suite. You didn’t have the energy to entertain conversation right now.

When you reached your abode, you clutched both files beneath one arm as your free hand reached into your blazer pocket, feeling out the security card that would grant you access. You plucked one out in a smooth motion between your index and middle finger, hand outstretching to hover it over the sensor. But the light declined you with a blaring red, and your brows furrowed as you brought it forward to study the details.

It was then that you noticed you’d pulled the wrong card—one that granted access to your father’s suite. You reached back into your pocket to swap it out for the only other card, and then in the distance, the elevator dinged open.

Oh, fuck me, you groaned internally.

You tossed a glance over your shoulder just in time to see who the doors had parted to reveal. The first thing you noticed was a couple, faces connected in a heated war of the lips. The woman was pressed against the back wall of the elevator, hands wrapped around the neck of a man in a uniform that would’ve looked misplaced if it hadn’t been worn inside of Vought’s building. A superhero uniform.

Your interest piqued a hundred times over, and you found yourself staring to gather more information. The man’s hands roamed the women’s waist in messy, hungry motions, tousling her clothes about the place. You squinted at the colours of his uniform, head craning forward an inch, and then instantly recoiled with a wide-eyed stare as you recognised the colours of Soldier Boy.

Just then, the woman pushed him back at the chest with an obnoxious giggle, uttering some shrill sentence that skipped the frequency of your hearing channels entirely. Soldier Boy’s laugh, however—deep and reverberating—didn’t go unnoticed. It graced your ears almost pleasantly, and you watched as he herded her out the elevator with an exploitative study of her behind.

You were immediately drawn to his striking face. You’d seen it countless times all across the city, but somehow, it didn’t do him the justice that an in-person encounter did. His hand came forward to cup the woman’s ass with a clap that echoed down the hallway, and she let out a delighted squeal then had him chuckling in success. Neither of them noticed you loitering further down the hallway.

You grimaced at the sight of Soldier Boy. Never meet your heroes—now that was a saying that was onto something. Not that Soldier Boy had ever been your hero. Still, it did help knowing just what sort of person you’d have to deal with so thoroughly. And despite knowing what you knew about him—courtesy of your father and your research—you wished this instance hadn’t been your first impression of him. You’d count your blessings, though because by the sounds of his reputation, this behaviour of his was nothing of note.

“Come on, baby,” Soldier Boy’s voice boomed through the quiet air. “Let’s get you back to the room, hopped up on some bennies, and then I’ll show ya the best night o’ fuckin’ your life, yeah?” He chuckled, hand stringing around her shoulder to guide her around a corner that plucked them both from your view. And thankfully, in a direction away from your suite.

Benzadrine and an illegal, after-hour guest? Boy, he was not up to a great start in your books. You should have pursued them both, halted them in their tracks and started your case before bleeding his ear with repercussions, but you didn’t. Instead, you pulled out the correct access card, scanned it in, and hummed contentedly as the suite parted for you to drift inside, leaving the day’s shit outside the door.

Technically, you weren’t on the job yet. So, whatever obvious mischief Soldier Boy was currently up to was anything but tonight’s problem. You had other things to tend to for tomorrow’s big day, and there, you’d meet the leader of the Supes, anyway. Good to see he was around, after all, but it was simultaneously a fact that had you clenching your jaw an inch.

You knew men like soldier boy—avoided them like the plague, usually. But this time, with a miserable job like the one you’d been stuck with, you’d have no choice but to work with him.

ミ☬彡

You’d hardly gotten sleep last night. Between sifting through the files of Payback’s history and learning the names of the important personnel you’d have to consult at least once in your life, you’d been busy. Busy was an understatement. You’d been drowning.

When the clock had struck five in the morning, you’d wrapped up the last of your reading to take a power nap until six, and then hopped straight into a much needed shower. After drying off, dressing proper and gathering the day’s documents into a case, you’d taken a moment to grab a quick bite to eat before heading to the meeting room.

For the sake of punctuality and practicality, it helped that you lived in Vought’s tower. You’d been assigned permanent residence in one of the suites tucked into the top floors, and if you’d skimmed the blueprint correctly, it was only two floors above where most of Payback was situated. Though, judging by last night’s encounter with Soldier Boy, you could deduce that he lived on the same floor as you—likely a show of his lead-Supe status. Great for him, bothersome for you.

You had to admit to yourself that living where you worked, and working where you lived was far from the ideal lifestyle, but there wasn’t much you could do to change it now. You could only endure, so endure you would. But first, a cup of coffee to kickstart your energy reserves was a must.

After a quiet elevator ride, you’d traversed the winding hallways to reach the double doors of the meeting room. When you slipped inside, you weren’t surprised to find the room completely empty. It was only a little over seven, and that gave you roughly an hour to cram in a little more reading before the rest of the crowd arrived.

You settled at one of the chairs tracing the circumference of the large, winding table. The shape was semi-circular with the middle hollowed out to allow for addressing the members as the centre of attention, and it was a position you’d find yourself in very soon.

Around you, the world drowned into non-existence as you began skimming the first of your pages, the minutes ticking by like fleeting seconds. When you checked your watch again, it read quarter to eight. You hoarded your notes back into your case, chair screeching aside as you wandered over to the corner of the room where the coffee machine idled. You began prepping enough coffee to fill the mugs of the first four people lucky enough to claim it, and sip on a hot cuppa to ease them into this morning’s meeting.

You hovered by the machine until it brewed finish, keeping your hands entertained by aimlessly rearranging the mugs and other clutter. You were feeling slightly anxious about this big day, but at the same time, thrilled. This was your first ever job, but one you knew you could handle and blossom within until something greater came along. Until you seized something greater for yourself.

You reached for the coffee pot and began filling your mug, and it was just then that you heard the doors to the meeting room slide open, loud chatter seeping into the quiet atmosphere you’d grown comfortable in. You glanced over your shoulder briefly to spot a mixture of smart, simple uniforms and more dramatic, colourful ones trailing inside—board members and Supes alike, streaming inside in unity.

You found yourself glancing away almost instantly, head dipping to the pot of coffee that you continued to pour until your mug was filled to the brim. Your heart started to beat a little faster, now, the reality of it all sinking in. But you paced a breath or two to steady your nerves before placing the pot back into the slot.

It’s okay, you’ve got this, you steadied silently. You can’t afford to make mistakes, your father’s voice chimed in, but you pushed it away with a light frown. Bringing your mug up to your lips, you took the first, hot sip, savouring the bitter taste of it before swallowing it tensely. The warmth was soothing as it slid down to your stomach, almost enough to lay off the edge entirely.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” the first gruff voice of the morning furled through the air to harass you from some distance outside of your view. The vanity saturating his tone almost made you want to ignore it entirely, but as the daughter of Vought’s Executive with a reputation to uphold, it would be best not to soil both your family’s name—and your own—on your first day on the job—even if you had to bust a tooth or two clenching back biting remarks.

So, you lowered your mug back onto the table, your head jerking with a slight breath of patience. The corners of your lips quirked up in forced duty before you turned on your heels to face the man so determined to believe his every one-liner was some hypnotising spell.

You were instantly greeted by a handsome face modelling a potent grin—perfect white teeth that must’ve been tirelessly polished by his sense of self-importance. And his eyes, so impressively green, held this tantalising glint to them that almost made you not want to look away. The one and only Soldier Boy, even more striking this up close. But you had a feeling—many feelings—that his mouth was about to open to invalidate everything physically appealing about him.

“There she is,” he said lowly—a melodic rumble that managed to instil goosebumps along the nape of your neck. “A face as pretty as expected. Tell me, sweetheart, would you mind pourin’ me a cup? Black, and hold off on the sugar—unless you’re offerin’,” he added with an animated wink.

His use of sweetheart made your stomach curl in a manner that paled in comparison to the emotions your father evoked when addressing you. Maybe because everything Soldier Boy said felt like it came with unvoiced strings attached that you’d climb into his bed come the end of the day. And you wouldn’t even get started on the commercial wink he’d perfected to the point of being laughable outside of rolling cameras.

God, he was a faux-fest of charm.

“Oh,” you laughed dryly, head slightly tilting to one side, if only to scorn Soldier Boy further. “You must be mistaken, I don’t work for you.”

Soldier Boy’s eyes narrowed an inch. Whether it was from a place of surprise that you’d talk to him this way, or that—for once—he was being met with mockery rather than admiration, you had no idea. Didn’t care.

“Excuse me?” He chuckled carefully, but his gaze was anything but calculated as he did a bold sweep of your figure. “Everybody works for me, sweetheart,” he countered, eyes finding yours in a frown. “That’s kinda the perk that comes with bein’ Vought’s pocket-fillin’, undeniably handsome pussy-magnet, and the face of this entire operation, ‘course.”

“Well,” you chuckled, but it lacked humour. “Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people. But, if you’d like a cup of coffee, I’d be more than happy to step aside and let you pour one yourself.” The furrow in the Supe’s brows deepened at your bluntness, and you offered another forced smile before turning your back on him.

You did good on your word and side-stepped an inch to accommodate him while recollecting your own mug. But instead of sliding in beside you to fulfil his caffeine craving, Soldier Boy’s gloved palm came down on the countertop, his exposed fingers tapping at the wood.

“Bold,” he remarked sultrily. “I like it.” He brought himself forward to hover over your shoulder, the contact so close that you felt his chest graze your shoulder. Your head sank back an inch with a breath of patience as you turned to give him the attention he so clearly couldn’t live without.

“Can I help you with something?” You asked pointedly, your hands coming up to cradle your mug against your chest.

A faint grin stretched his lips as he peered down at you, his eyes narrowing on your every feature like you were an object of fascination that needed to be thoroughly studied. “Apparently not,” he chuckled lightly, slipping an intentional glance at your coffee. When he tuned back to eye-level, his chin jerked a small gesture in your direction. “What’d you say your name was, again?”

“I didn’t,” you answered vaguely, bringing your coffee to your lips for a sip. Your eyes didn’t stray from his as your nose dipped past the rim to drain a mouthful, and neither did his as he studied your every move with a twitching lip. You were testing his patience, alright. It made you grin against the porcelain.

“Right,” Soldier Boy cleared his throat, hand coming up from the counter to join his other in a cross against his broad chest. “Well, I’m sure I need no introduction,” he chuckled haughtily. “So, why don’t you tell me your name, sweetheart?”

You lowered your mug with a dramatic swallow, weaving a look of confusion through your features. “Yeah, I know who you are,” you said. The Supe quirked an eyebrow and gave a slight nod that said well, of course. “You’re The Boy Soldier, right?” And just like that, the grin was wiped clean from his face.

The Supe leaned himself into your vicinity. “You fuckin’ with me?” He murmured, as if the foul mouth on him was any secret.

You tilted your head in mock. “Obviously,” you shot back. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to learn some modesty.”

Soldier Boy’s lips quirked with a scheme as he softened his glare. “Oh, yeah? You gonna teach me?” He jeered.

You held his stare levelly. “Careful,” you warned, your fingers tightening around the body of your mug.

The Supe relented an inch at that, tall frame straightening to full height as he stopped encroaching on your space. “Not really my style, sweetheart.”

“It should be. Especially around me,” you retorted, leaving the statement to dangle in front of his face as you brought your mug up for another sip.

Suddenly, Soldier Boy’s expression tackled something other than a shit-eating smirk, his charm sobering up into a look of apprehension. “The hell you on ‘bout?” He demanded in a hushed, but gruff tone. “Who are you?”

You downed the last of your coffee, turning to lower the mug onto the coffee table with a deliberate slowness that made the Supe grimace and draw his lower lip into a frustrated bite.

“Enough o’ the goddamn theatrics,” he snapped, hand coming down rather firmly onto the coffee table. A second later, he was glancing around to see if he’d drawn any attention, and you did the same, only to find that everybody was far too absorbed in their own conversation to eavesdrop yours.

Glancing back at Soldier Boy, you caught his returning eye with raised brows. “What? The entertainment industry got you sick of the suspense?” You jabbed. His jaw clenched, causing you to huff a soft breath of satisfaction.

“Who am I?” You continued more seriously. “I’m just somebody that saw you sneaking in your pick of the Soldier Boy kiss-ass litter last night. And, I heard you offering her drugs, no less. Not a great look when you’re supposed to be following some sort of rehab program, you know, as per the terms of your last. . . probation, if you will.”

The Supe’s face tensed with the knowledge of getting caught, and it made your chest brim with satisfaction, but it was short-lived as he took a step closer to size you up and glare you down. “Yeah? And what about it, huh?” He murmured. “You think anybody’s gonna believe a single world outta your mouth? Over me—the Soldier Boy?” He gave a huff of laughter, gaze averting to the side for a second before narrowing on you again. “Sweetheart, you have no idea who you’re messin’ with.”

You raked your glare across his figure, as if trying to comprehend his audacity. “And you think that you do?” You shot back, your own arms coming up in a cross of restraint.

The gesture was enough to earn the Supe’s attention with a condescending smirk and hitch of his brow, which only made it all the more pleasurable to continue.

“Have you forgotten that you have no idea who I am?” You pointed out. “Besides, do you actually think that your word means anything to any person with a functioning brain? You’ve got the entirety of Vought elbow-deep in NDAs and rampant insomnia trying to cover this company’s ass after all of your reckless stunts. So trust me when I say that your word is as valued as a toddler crying wolf.”

The Supe’s chin perked with the slightest, almost imperceptible movement, clearly reflecting on your speech while simultaneously attempting to conceal a mixture of indignation and unease—because Soldier Boy wouldn’t be caught dead quivering before anybody. If there’s one thing you could thank your father for, it was his unintentional hand in teaching you how to decipher a man’s mind.

Eventually, the Supe mustered up his remaining nerve, his lip taking on a slight quiver of some emotion you couldn’t exactly place. It looked. . . ailed, but his brows were so intent on memorising discontent. “You gonna tell me who you are, sweetheart, or are you just here to tease my dick til I give you somethin’ to show for it, hm?” He asked in a low murmur.

You squinted at the mouth on him. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out who I am—soon enough,” you told him, and the ambiguity made the Supe glance off to the side with a muffled for fuck sakes.

Just then, one of the board members—a shorter, elegantly dressed lady—politely inserted herself between the two of you with a soft-spoken greeting. Your attention flickered over to where she reached to pour herself a mug of coffee, then back to where Soldier Boy remained glaring you down—only silenced by the newcomer’s presence. A blissful silence. You took that as your opportunity to ditch his interrogation, flashing him one last grin before you turned on your heels and moved back to where you’d left your belongings at the table.

You gathered your things together and set it down at your seat, and it wasn’t long before the chatter around you died down, your father streaming in through the doors. Almost immediately, members were rushing to take up their seats. In either side of you, you were faced with a man and woman dressed smartly, who introduced themselves as part of the board. You exchanged your own name, but purposely neglected revealing your second name. That would come in due time—undoubtedly attached to some degree of judgement. But for now, you’d savour the last remaining moments of peace that came with your mystery.

“Good morning, all,” your father greeted, and the crowd sizzled with softer reciprocations. He brought himself to stand in the centre of the space, doing a quick turn to drink in all the surrounding faces, his stare stuttering on the view of you. He offered a small nod, which you reciprocated subtly, and then he was turned back to addressing the rest of the room’s occupants.

Just past him, on the opposite curve of the table, you saw Soldier Boy slink into his seat of choice. He caught your eye almost instantly, and already, you could see some degree of puzzle-piecing taking place amid his expression—especially as he gauged your seat amongst important personnel, as opposed to watching you leave the room with the other assistants.

That’s right, you chuckled internally, holding his stare boldly. I’m here to stay.

Soldier Boy was drawn rigid in his seat as he endured your visual probing, the singular, gloved hand he’d come to rest on the table subtly tapping at the wood. Eventually, he averted his gaze off to the side, like he’d grown exasperated with your attention, and you birthed a light smirk before turning your focus back to your father.

For the first half the meeting, he gave a quick rundown on Vought’s current dealings, soliciting input from some of the gathered board members on new strategies and information they may have. It was knowledge public enough for the Supes to listen in on, but they did so deploringly—as if it were a waste of their precious time. Your attention snagged onto Soldier Boy in particular, whose glare had wandered back over to you in the short time you’d spent ignoring him. Now, it seemed as though he just couldn’t neglect you, not even for a second.

You knew that his mind was likely on a rampage of nagging thoughts about who you were and just what the hell else you knew about him. And each time you caught his eye, you let nothing on, despite the mean amusement that made you want to grin boldly. Is this what having powers felt like? Yours was a lot less tangible than a Supe’s, but still real enough to have an effect—if Soldier Boy was any testament to that.

The meeting droned on for a while longer before your father was clearing his throat with the claim of an important announcement, and the crowd equipped a new sense of interest. Even the surrounding Supes seemed to perk, some even slipping you a glance, as though they expected you might finally be introduced. And you were.

Your father’s head turned toward you, his hand outstretching in a beckon as he called your name. “Please, join me,” he said.

You would’ve gladly done so without a second thought, but then he continued onto summoning another person to his side—and of course, it had to be Soldier Boy. You watched as the Supe made haste on his summons, intentionally avoiding your deploring eye as he drew up beside your father.

With a small, preparatory breath, you moved to relieve yourself from the table, the atmosphere falling silent enough to emphasise the harsh screech of your chair as you straightened up. You worked your way around the other seated members, turning the table’s corner to join Soldier Boy at your father’s other side—in the centre of it all.

When you reached the waiting pair, you tried not to directly acknowledge the tense scrutiny etched across Soldier Boy’s face as he watched you enter the bubble of importance. But in the corner of your eye, you caught the way he shifted his weight between his boots, and the slight, choked clearing of his voice. It coaxed forward a grin that tugged at your lips, but for the sake of remaining professional, you pursed them to ease it off.

Your father’s hand outstretched to receive you at your back as he ushered you beside him, head turning to address the room. “For those of you who haven’t yet met her, this is my daughter,” he began, sparing you a brief, enigmatic glance. “In fact, today marks the first day that she enters the Vought family—as the new manager of Payback.”

Soft murmurs of surprise arose from the gathered people, and you couldn’t help but do a sweep of the peering faces. Most of the board members looked faintly surprised, heads tilting together as they exchanged hushed words. But the rest of the crowd—the Supes, looked almost exhilarated, like you were a new game to be played. You knew it was likely an attempt to scare you off, but if anything, it only made you feel more determined.

Still, your attention didn’t stray to where Soldier Boy stood. But you guessed he must’ve looked a combination of every member’s shock.

Your father cleared his throat, and it was the singular sound needed to quiet the room once more. “I expect great things for this company moving forward,” he continued, and you were faced with the back of his head as he glanced over at Soldier Boy. “Let us seize this new change with vigour, and show America why we are worthy of being her face.”

All around you, the members erupted with scattered claps, but as the seconds dragged on, it became more paced and prominent. You found yourself modelling a proud smile as you gazed upon the room, feeling a new sense of importance.

Maybe, just maybe, you could work with this job.

Around you, the room lit up with chatter and the shrill voices of moving chairs as the meeting dispersed. Your father’s hand on your back drifted away as he retreated a step, earning your attention back to him—and regrettably, Soldier Boy, who was now in appreciable view of you.

The Supe’s expression was stoic as he glared at you, but you saw the muscle of his jaw flicker when you met his gaze, and the way his hands had drawn into tense fists at his side.

Your father turned to face Soldier Boy. “Ben,” he addressed him—you’d almost forgotten the Supe’s very normal name, but you’d pocket it for a time when you could best use it to your advantage.

The Supe angled his body an inch to face your father, but not without sparing you a quick, accusing glance. “Sir,” he cleared his throat thickly.

If your father noticed the silent, ricocheting tension between yourself and Soldier Boy, he didn’t show it. “You’ll find that my daughter and you are quite alike,” your father said.

You grimaced at that observation, which must’ve been potent enough to beckon to the corner of the Supe’s eye because he flashed you a look of subtle offence before modelling neutrality more.

“But I hope that in your similarities, you will find yourselves working synergistically, rather than butting heads.” Your father’s words sounded oddly optimistic—almost cheesy, but you knew that everything he was saying was an indirect warning that the Supe not stir up trouble. A naive hope.

The hands Soldier Boy had bundled at his sides released to loop around his back, chin tilting up slightly to embody the essence of his name. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered hoarsely, then added, “sir.”

“Good,” your father murmured, a satisfied look settling into his sharp features. “Now, let us formalise this new partnership with a handshake,” he decided, his attention straying over to where you waited in silence.

“Handshake?” The Supe echoed almost dumbly, earning a side-long glance from your father.

“Is there a problem, Ben?”

Soldier Boy’s frown reached you briefly before he glanced back at your father, eyes narrowing before he lifted his head determinedly. “No, sir,” he answered firmly. And then, without further command, he took initiative by releasing his formation and strolling over to where you stood.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” your father said with a quick nod, before he strayed toward the crowd of chirping board members.

Tensely, Soldier Boy drew up before you, his gloved hand outstretching into your vicinity. When you glanced him in the eye, he looked as though he were attempting to probe your mind. Your lips stretched with a smile that was meant to be polite, but that you knew came off far too smug, and you lifted your own hand to link with his.

“I look forward to working with you, Soldier Boy,” you said, your voice clear-cut and ringing through the tense air circulating between you two—connecting all that you were.

The Supe’s lips quirked into a one-sided, insincere smirk, scrutiny heavy on his brows. But he said nothing, much to your didappintment. With a soft hm, you loosened your fingers in an attempt to shake his hold and terminate the handshake, but then his grip on you tightened, stilling you in your tracks.

“I’m sure you do, sweetheart,” he finally answered, his typical, mischievous demeanour making a formidable comeback. “I ain’t gonna lie, you’ve perched yourself on one helluva dick by takin’ on this job. But, you strike me as the typa gal that loves a challenge, so I’m gonna make damn fuckin’ sure you get it,” he promised lowly, delivering one more meaningful squeeze to your palm before you found it strung up against his lips with a single, strong pull.

There, he pressed his lips to your knuckles in a chaste kiss—an action so far from expected that you’d seized into speechless confusion. The intense green of his eyes seemed to gleam brighter as he drank in your reaction to his touch, and when he withdrew his lips and lowered your hand, you found him modelling a charming grin.

You yanked your hand free of his touch, arm flying back to your side in rigidity. “You—” you attempted to chide, but your tongue trampled itself into a hot, speechless mess. And at your side, upon the knuckles Soldier Boy had branded, you felt the lingering sensation of his lips.

“Me?” The Supe entertained, head tilting almost mockingly.

You felt your cheeks simmer, but not with embarrassment—just sheer frustration. “Behave yourself, Ben,” you choked out, arms coming up in a cross.

His expression beamed with a look of pleasant surprise, and then he was humming in approval. “Say that again,” he urged, eyes narrowing devilishly. “I could get used to the sound o’ my name on those pretty lips o’ yours,” he chuckled.

Your head tilted at his toying. “Really? Even if it’s as I’m reporting last night’s little house-party bender to the board?” You retorted. Soldier Boy’s light immediately dulled at that, and you quirked your eyebrows in accomplishment. “I expected as much,” you huffed, arms unfurling back to your side. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

And with that, you turned and took your departure, leaving Soldier Boy in the stunned rear. Just when you thought you’d heard the last of his voice for today, his insistence trailed after you in one last statement.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart, I’ll be waitin’.”

──────────────────────

a/n ─ first off, sincerely sorry that i took so long to get this request out, anon!! one thing about me is that i do tend to take long with writing but literally only bc i am way too hard on myself (perfectionist tingz) and always end up changing things 10000 times until im satisfied. secondly, this dynamic is so scrumptious pls, i really enjoyed fleshing it out—anon your mind is amazing. i split this into two parts bc it became a long one (as it always does with me) and it’s already written, but i’ll be releasing it at a later stage just to edge you all 😵‍💫 not sure when yet tho as i’m driving back to college sat and i’m super busy as of now but i’ll keep yall posted. i hope you all enjoyed this first part! also my & @floralscented’s world both collided with this request so i encourage all you lovely people to go and check out her take on it as well!! i don’t think there will ever be too much of this pairing 🙂‍↕️

thank you for reading!! please show your support with likes, comments & reblogs—they are deeply appreciated ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

tags ─ @gibson-g1rl @bohemianblasphemy @fallbhind @angelicjackles @deansbbyx @titsout4jackles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @floralscented @deansbeer @deansbbyx @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @whisperingdaze @st4rmarley

want to become a part of the taglist for any future soldier boy works?

other works ─ the boys masterlist

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thevillainswhore · 21 hours ago

Note

“Good girl,” he mumbles, running his fingers through your hair while looking at you.

So We Meet Again

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: A reunion between two old friends quickly turns heated.

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, blowjob, mouth fucking, ball sucking, praise, pet names, cum eating.

Author’s Note: This is part of The Love In The Woods Collection ❄️ beta’d by the lovely @buck-star thank you my love 🥰 dividers by @saradika-graphics.

You didn’t know what to expect once your old friend opened the door to his cabin. It had been years — too many of them since you had last seen him and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

The logs that had been carefully wound together to uphold the structure were beautifully cut, a deep mahogany that was rich in pigment. But you couldn’t help but quirk your lips at the beigeness of it all.

A little splash of colour would do the trick.

You had no time to internally decide what kind of palette you could imagine for the rustic cabin before the wooden door creaked open and a vaguely familiar face came into your view.

“Bucky?” You gasped, the air knocked out of your lungs. “Is that—Is that really you?”

Far from the scrawny boy you had attended school with, your old friend stood before you transformed into a man.

The stubble that graced his cheeks was new. The once long hair that he had chopped down into a short fluffy cut was also new. The muscle he had packed on that made the woolly coat he was wearing strain against his arms was definitely new.

All new territory that you had no idea what to do with.

“Hey, Dolly. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that pretty, little face.”

Oh, the deep voice was a welcome surprise too.

“I—” You didn’t know what to say, shell shocked by the sight in front of you. “You’ve gotten taller.”

Bucky laughed abruptly. “Well, damn. Thanks, sweetheart.”

You let out a small huff of laughter for your own awkwardness. “What I meant to say was you look good.”

Though a lot had changed since you last saw Bucky, one thing that had stayed the same was how bashful he got over the slightest compliments.

Rubbing the back of his neck as a hue of red blossomed on his cheeks, he smiled. “You know how to make a man blush, don’t ya?”

Just as you were about to reply, a gush of frosted wind made you stumble. Bucky shot his arms out and grabbed you before you could fall. “Shit, let’s get you inside before it gets nasty out there. Come on, you.”

With his arms still keeping you balanced, Bucky brought you over the threshold and into the warmth of his home. He shut the door with his foot and continued to smooth his hands down your coat covered arms.

“This place is beautiful, Buck. I can’t believe you made this by yourself,” you said in awe.

“I’m glad you like it. You helped me design it after all.”

You spun around with your mouth open. “You did not keep those sketches after all these years!”

Bucky shrugged with one shoulder and slid his palms into his pockets. “I did. I neatened them up a little here and there when I got the planning permission. But I kept them.” He pointed towards the fireplace with his head, a fond smile curving his lips. “Look.”

After tapping the excess snow off your boots on the doormat, you made your way towards the mantelpiece that hung above a roaring fire. Low and behold, there were the drawings the two of you had made together years ago in college. Ripped out of your notebook and framed.

“You believed in me when not many people did.” Bucky’s voice was closer as he came up behind you. “You didn’t laugh when I told you I wanted to build my own company. It's because of you that people took interest in this house and now I get regular contracts to keep me steady.”

Unexpected tears began to bubble to the surface. You couldn’t believe your old friend had kept something so sentimental and created something so beautiful out of it. Sniffling, you faced Bucky and hugged him tightly. “I’ve missed you, Buck.”

Instantly, his arms curled around you, holding you with just as much vigour. “I missed you more, Dolly.”

The two of you kept huddled in your embrace for a while, savouring the feeling of each other after lost time.

Suddenly, a thought popped up. You pulled back, though Bucky’s arms held firm around you. “Wait. Does this mean what I think it does?”

Your excitment began to grow at the grin on your friend’s face. “Why don’t you go and find out?”

With a squeal, you quickly toed off your boots — not wanting to dirty the cabin — and ran down the hallway. If Bucky hadn’t changed anything about the floor plan, you were sure to find what you were looking for.

And to your delight, once you had ripped open the door, you found your most prized possession — the library.

You spun around, unable to contain the emotion in your voice. “You really built it.”

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised, sweetheart. I told you I would.” Bucky leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with an unknown look in eye.

“But—“ you tried to reason.

Though Bucky quickly shook you down, already knowing what you were trying to say. “But nothing. You’re still my best friend no matter where in the world you are. No matter if we haven’t spoken in a while. This is for you, Dolly.”

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. “It's beautiful, Bucky. I love it.”

“You’re welcome here anytime. You know that.” By the earnest look in his eyes you knew he meant it too.

After you had explored the house some more, Bucky had ushered you to the table to get some food down you. His concern for your wellbeing hadn’t changed at all since school. He was always mothering you, making sure you were taking care of yourself.

It was like the two of you had never been apart. Conversation came easily over his homemade meal. Laughter bounced off the walls of his kitchen. It was easy to fall back into your friendship.

But there was something else brewing that you couldn’t explain. An added supplement to your relationship.

There were lingering looks over the candles scattered across the dining table. There were flirtations that made you squirm in your seat.

If Bucky wasn’t your friend, you’d have thought that you were on a date.

But Bucky was your friend. And every time your eyes caught each other and his hand brushed over yours, you found yourself thinking of him differently.

Snow pelted harshly against the windows and you looked outside to find the storm predicted by the weather forecast was raging in full force. You wiped your mouth with a napkin and sighed. “That’s just going to be great to drive in.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to you in aghast. “You’re not actually thinking about going out in that, are you?”

“What other choice do I have? I’ve got to get to my hotel.”

“Absolutely not.” Bucky shook his head in finality. “You’ll stay here.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “I can’t just stay here, Bucky. This is your home!”

You knew you sounded stupid, especially when he raised his eyebrow at you. “My home is your home. You’re not riskin’ your safety just to stay at some deadbeat motel where the doors don’t even lock. Not a chance.”

Bucky’s reasoning was sound. The room you had booked was kind of cheap and you shivered when you thought of the possibilities why. But after a night filled with inexplicable tension, you found yourself still weighing the options.

Bucky must have seen the indecision in your features. The groan of his chair pushing out caught your attention and you had to bite your tongue when he crouched before you to hold your hand.

“Come on, darlin’. You can’t go back out there tonight. Stay with me.”

You would always argue it was his eyes that persuaded you. Bucky always had a way to make you give in to him with his steel blues. It was the same as college kids and you realised it was the same now. Only more dangerous.

“Okay,” you whispered around a gulp. Squeezing his hand, you confirmed, “I’ll stay with you.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up. Pulling you out your seat, his large arms wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed you tight. He nuzzled his nose into your hair and let go of a deep breath. “That’s my girl.”

Your body shouldn’t have reacted the way it did. You were just glad that Bucky was too enthralled in your hug to notice anything amiss.

Clearing your throat, you stepped back and smoothed your clothes. “Let me help you put all this away.”

Immediately, Bucky took the plate you were about to grab. “Not a chance, Dolly. Go sit down and wait until I’m finished and then I’ll show you to your room.” With his free hand, he patted your lower back, enough for his fingers to skim the top of your ass and shooed you away.

Once the kitchen was cleaned, Bucky lifted you off the sofa with his hand and guided you towards the hallway where the bedrooms resided. You weren’t quite sure why you faltered upon the first step, but you tried to control your breathing enough to push yourself to keep walking.

The night wasn’t what you expected when you decided to visit Bucky. Maybe it was silly to have any sort of expectations after so many years apart from your friend.

However, this new element came at you with no time to prepare.

Especially not when he let you lead so he could place his hand on the small of your back. Not when you felt the movement of it gliding further down to rest on the curve of your ass. And not when he grabbed your hand to pull you back once you surpassed the open door to his bedroom.

“So—um—the guest room is just next to mine.” Bucky looked down at you with what you could only call desire in his irises.

“I know,” you breathed airily. “I helped you design the layout, remember?”

Bucky swallowed. “I guess I’ll say goodnight then.”

“That would be best.” Though you made no way to retract yourself from his proximity.

“Goodnight, Dolly.”

“Night, Bucky.”

The air became stifling hot, even as the cold crept in from the open windows around the house.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, Bucky slowly moved forward with what you supposed would be a friendly kiss on the cheek. You kept deathly still as his stubble scratched against your skin, even though a shudder clawed its way down your back. But your attempts were useless when his lips hovered a little too close to the corner of your mouth.

Bucky let himself linger before he pulled back. Though he could only manage to draw himself away from you slightly, allowing the two of you to breathe each other’s air. His eyes were blown, like he’d taken a hit and his hand squeezed your waist like it was painful for him to move.

Who made the next move would continue to be debated for years to come. What you could both agree on with certainty was the instant connection the two of you felt when your lips finally connected. How perfect the two of you intertwined your bodies in a dance of fiery passion.

The nagging voice that had tormented you throughout the night vanished and you finally let yourself go, losing yourself into Bucky.

“Fuck,” he murmured around your kiss. “I’ve been wantin’ to taste those damn lips all night, Dolly.”

You tangled your fingers into his fluffy hair, pulling harshly as his hands sneaked up your shirt to feel your bare skin. “Then shut up and stop wasting your breath.”

His responding growl sent a shot of electricity between your legs and you couldn’t help but flick your tongue against his to hear it again.

The two of you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the hallway, unable to keep your hands off each other. It was as though Bucky was the oxygen you craved after being starved of air. You’d die if he let go of you.

Bucky began to step back into his bedroom and the door crashed against the wall. You broke away when your feet recognised the soft carpet furnishing, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths together.

“What are you doing?” Bucky whined while his chest heaved and his eyes were hooded in pure lust.

Ignoring him, you dropped down onto your knees with a thud. His eyes shot open and you graced him with a sultry smile, licking your lips while you slid your palms up the denim covering his thick thighs.

“Oh, shit. You’re really gonna—”

You didn’t give him the time to finish his sentence. Adrenaline was sparking your momentum in that moment and any doubts about how fast you were moving were pushed out of your mind as soon as you tore his jeans and underwear down in one go.

Bucky’s heavy cock bounced out of its confines. He was all girth and length, a true testament to the rest of his bear-like physique. Although his dick was intimidating and you had to take at least a whole minute to stare at it in wonder, you got to work quickly.

There were no teasing licks, no hesitant strokes of your hand. You went all in, hollowing your cheeks while you began to feed yourself his cock. You held the base with one hand and slid your other further down towards his balls, beginning to massage them just as you felt the head of his length hit the back of your throat.

“Holy—D-Dolly, you gotta—fuck that’s so good—Slow down, baby. You’re g-gonna choke.”

Lifting your eyes to settle them on Bucky’s, you winked and hummed around him, watching in delight as his eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be,” he chuckled before biting his bottom lip, beginning to gently meet the rhythm of your mouth with his own thrusts. “Ain’t gotta tell me twice, baby.”

Spit drooled from your mouth, pooling onto the hardwood floor, while your eyes began to water. Any decorum had gone out the window and all that was left in its place was raw, shameful mouth fucking. Bucky couldn’t keep his jaw shut as he towered above you, watching how his proportions bullied the tightness of your throat.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, running his fingers through your hair while looking down at you. “Good fuckin’ girl. Gettin’ all messy for me.”

His hands tightened their grip, tugging enough for a sharp pain to sting your scalp. But it only served to rile you up more. Letting his cock fall from your mouth with a wet pop, you reached further down to suck his balls.

Bucky choked on his own spit at the sensation of your tongue flicking against the thin, delicate skin and the warm wetness your saliva provided him. “Sh-Shit, Dolly! Uh-huh, baby—Just like that.”

Cradling the back of your head with one hand, Bucky used the other to hold his cock. He wanted to see the tears glistening over your waterline. You hummed as you made eye contact with him and the vibrations ran through his whole body and lit his nerves on fire.

“That’s right, suck my fuckin’ balls. Look so pretty on your knees for me and your own damn spit covering your face.” With a grunt, Bucky pulled back, almost regretting leaving your hot mouth, and grabbed your chin, spitting on your awaiting tongue and shoving his dick back down your throat before you could blink. “Show me how much you missed me, baby.”

Your body was like a live wire, sparks shocking your nerves and leaving you pent up and on edge. The pure animal had come out of your best friend — a side to him you had never had the pleasure of seeing before — and it only made you crave your own stimulation.

Your jaw ached and your throat cinched in pain every time the fat tip of Bucky’s cock hit the back of it. But none of that mattered when you watched the harmony of pleasure across his face. How he looked at you like you were an angel on your knees, serving your god.

You grabbed the base of his cock with your hand and pulled him out of your mouth. “Paint my tongue, Bucky.” There was a hoarse rasp to your voice but you swallowed and began pumping his length. “I wanna know what you taste like.”

Bucky’s eyes gained a new gleam, one that frightened and excited you.

“Fuck my life. What the fuck have we been doin’ all this time?” Grabbing the length of your hair and twisting it around his hand, he pulled, forcing you eye to eye with his crotch. “Come here, Dolly. Lemme feed you my load if you wan’ it so damn bad.”

Bucky fed you his cock and widened the stance of his legs, his free hand framed your chin — smothered in a combination of saliva and pre cum — and began to thrust.

Spit flew out of your mouth, each squelch and gag leaving no room for anything but Bucky’s thick length to take ownership of you. Your cries fell on deaf ears as Bucky became a man possessed.

“Gonna take it, sweetheart? Gonna swallow my cum and fill up your tummy?”

You nodded as best as you could, moaning around his girth and trying to convey with your eyes how badly you wanted him to use you.

Bucky licked his lips, panting viciously. “You’re mine now, Dolly. Do you understand?”

When you didn’t answer, too drunk off his cock, he harshly tapped your protruding cheek. “Answer me, sweetheart. Do you fuckin’ understand?”

You gargled around his length, tears streaming down your cheeks as you screamed your muffled agreement.

Bucky swiped his tongue across his teeth and grinned. “Good. Cos’ I ain’t letting you go.”

Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs, trying to steady yourself from the cruel thrusts. Bucky began to grind his cock down your throat, leaving you depleted of oxygen and struggling to form a single coherent thought.

“‘M gonna cum, baby. C-Can’t hold it any longer.” Bucky’s legs started to shake with his impending orgasm, his words slurring the closer to his end he got.

So with a sudden bout of eagerness, you slid your hands around to his ass, gripped each cheek and pulled him impossibly further down your throat until you couldn’t breathe.

Bucky didn’t even have a chance to warn you before his cock began to pulse, not a second later shooting pearls of thick, white cum from his tip to coat your tongue.

“D-Dolly—baby—I can’t. F-Fuck, I’m cummin’ so much. All this fuckin’ cum for you, sweetheart—” he rambled. Stumbling over his own words until his dick finally began to settle and his load had all been released.

You struggled to hold the vast amount of cum in your mouth, some of it sneaking out from the corner of your lip and joining your tears as they rolled down your chin. Your bloodshot eyes, rimmed with red speckled veins looked up to Bucky, watching the pure elation on his face while his fingers started to carefully unfurl from your hair.

Slowly, once Bucky’s length began to soften, he retracted his hips, letting his cock fall from your mouth. His thumb rested on the dimple of your chin, rubbing back and forth as he caught his breath, a new hunger in his eyes. “You still got my load in that pretty little mouth, baby?”

Tightening your lips, you nodded, chest heaving and nostrils flaring with an adrenaline that hadn’t been sated.

Bucky smirked wolf-like and kneeled down on one knee to match your height. “Wanna show me?”

Caught up in the boundaries the two of you had surpassed, that threatened to untangle the very purpose of your being, you held your friend’s eye and leisurely stuck your tongue out. White cream, thick and musty, balanced on your tongue, exposed and vulnerable.

Bucky’s eyes darkened and you barely had time to anticipate his intentions before he threw himself forward and kissed you.

You squealed, panic surging through your limbs and stiffening your body. But Bucky grabbed your waist and hoisted you up onto his lap, manipulating your legs to wrap around him.

The shock of him tasting his own cum left you paralysed, unable to reciprocate his kiss properly. However, the deep groan that rumbled from his chest at the motion of your tongues colliding and his load falling onto his own kick started your body. You kissed him back with reverence, a fire rekindling in your lower stomach.

Your faces were a mess of spit and cum, though the two of you were more concentrated on each other, content in getting lost in the new development of your relationship.

The kiss eventually died down, Bucky leaving a couple of intricate, slow pecks to your lips before seperating. He kept close, noses teasing each other while you caught your breath.

Tenderly, he swiped the gooey liquid lingering around your mouth with his thumb and tapped your cupid's bow twice, a plea to open up. You complied, allowing him to enter and you were quick to enclose your lips around him and suck.

“Good girl,” Bucky whispered, watching you with wide eyes. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

Before you could reply, he lifted the two of you up with ease, keeping a firm grip around your midriff, and laid you down on his bed.

“Let me see what else you’ll do for me, Dolly.” Bucky’s eyes bore into your own gaped ones, still trying to wrap your head around the events of the night. “Please.”

There was no other answer. Not when he caged you with his thick arms and not when he delicately trailed his nose along the sensitive skin of your neck. “Okay, Bucky.”

You couldn’t have imagined where that night could have taken you. Nor could you have conjured up how the hell the two of you ended up fucking until the early hours, singing songs of praise to each other and experiencing a pleasure that you thought would forever be a myth.

And when you awoke in the morning, scared and worried of the consequences of your actions, you were sure you would regret it.

But as Bucky tore your clothes off, pouring his adoration and devotion into every crevice of your body with more skin that was revealed as your heart beat as one, you couldn’t even try to muster up any feelings of remorse or anguish.

You just wanted your best friend to fuck you until the sun came up.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #the love in the woods collection

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enzosbabyangel · 2 days ago

Text

“Want me to teach you?”

𐙚Summary: You’re hogwarts good girl and Mattheo sees you at a party, leading to him teaching you how to give somebody(him) a blowjob.

𐙚a/n: repost from my old account, not read over or anything so their might still be spelling errors. i’m gonna be focusing on reposting some things from my old blog for now 💞

𐙚Content warning: partying, hints at Mattheo having a crush on reader for awhile, blowjob, overall kind of vanilla, possible dubcon(Both Mattheo and reader are drunk.), Soft Mattheo, again, very vanilla!, 18+ ONLY, MDNI

You stumbled your way into the empty classroom, the other man kicking the door closed with his foot as the two of you’s tongues fought for dominance. Your heart beating unimaginably fast in your chest. You feel his soft grasp on your waist as you two pulled back for air.

A grin formed on his face as he looked at your flush face and already kiss swollen lips. “You have no idea how long i wanted this.” He said before kissing you again, not giving you a chance to respond.

Maybe it was a good thing you came to this party instead of studying tonight..,

You take a deep breath as you walked into the crowded party. Already feeling the blisters forming on your feet from the heels you were wearing, The loud music blaring, you recognized the song as ��Talk dirty’ by Jason Derulo. You rolled your eyes at the obscene words of the song as you squeezed your way past the groups of dancing students from various houses. Exams were coming up which means you typically wouldn’t be skipping your nightly studying, however tonight was a special exception. After the upcoming exams next week, it’s graduation. These are your final two weeks that you’ll ever be spending here at hogwarts. The thought put a deep, never ending pit into your stomach. Over the years hogwarts has became your home, the thought of not eating breakfast in the great hall while talking with your friends felt like a bizarre, ‘never happening’ thought. You couldn’t imagine not hearing Draco and Harry getting into their daily arguments and scuffles during classes. And most of all, you’ve grown used to these people, especially one certain boy.

You made your way over to the drinks. The thoughts of graduating made your stomach do flips that you desperately wanted to drink away. You combined a bit of each drink, making the drink look a brownish colour. You swished it around in the cup as you stood there. Your eyes sweeping over all the students you could manage to see.

You didn’t see him, the one guy you wanted to see the most. You knew you shouldn’t be too worried about it. He never missed a party, but what if he suddenly wanted to focus on his studies instead? or maybe he saw you and he left? maybe he actually couldn’t stand you?

Before you managed to get too caught up in your thoughts you saw your friend Angelina Johnson coming over, she was wearing a low cut black dress with a deep v neck, her toned, thin body on display. The sweat that formed on her body and the lights from the party together made her skin glow with a variety of colours. You suddenly felt overdressed as you looked down at your own light baby blue silk dress that covered your thighs and stomach.

“Girl! you came, i knew you wouldn’t miss this.” She said as she stumbled over to you, drink in hand.

“Yeah. Just felt weird to stay in my dorm studying all night when i might not even see any of these people again.” You said with a chuckle as you took a sip of your drink. It sent a tingling sensation down your throat and into your body. You haven’t drank in a while, probably since last year’s Christmas party.

“I get it.” Angelina agreed as she topped up her own drink. “I’m glad you came.” She added genuinely with a smile before grabbing your wrist with a grin, “But you are NOT staying here all night.” She added, already pulling you with her, ignoring the other bodies in her way as you muttered apologies when you guys bumped into people. Accidentally knocking some peoples drinks onto the floor, causing you and Angelina to giggle as the two of you rushed further away in the direction of your friends.

You finally reached all your other friends who were further off towards the left of the room. You said hello to your friends before taking another sip of your drink, the overall atmosphere getting to you as you started to enjoy yourself more.

As time went on you started loosening up, drinking more, dancing with your friends. The loud music having a variety of different songs that matched the atmosphere. Other students slowly started leaving to the dorms or washrooms to hook up. Draco was making out with Astoria against the wall like a duo of horny dogs. And that’s where you spotted him.

Mattheo Riddle. The infamous ‘prince’ of Slytherin, son of the dark lord. a bit of a tit, or ‘manwhore’ as your friends call him. Constantly attending parties instead of studying. Constantly having new ‘girlfriends’. A complete asshole to others.

Well atleast that’s how others describe him. they weren’t exactly wrong, but you personally never had any bad experiences with him. He could be tit, yes, but he was never necessarily rude. He was kind of nice in a way. In a charming way. The perfect amount of Goofy, nice, and cold. Not Fred and George Weasley level of goofy. Not Neville Longbottom level of nice. Not Theodore Nott level of cold. The way his hair was always perfectly curled. His perfect white teeth that lit up the room when he smiled. Or maybe it’s just because you’ve had a big, fat, tv school girl type crush on him since second year.

He was leaning against the side of the fire place, Next to Astoria and Draco. He was alone though, no girl practically dry humping his leg this time. From where you stood you had the perfect view of his side profile as he lit up a cigarette, struggling slightly to get the lighter to work properly. His red solo cup resting on the top of the fireplace next to him. It was like everyone else in the room was nonexistent as you admired the man just a mere couple feet away from you. You didn’t realize your staring until you were forced out of your daze with a rough nudge to your shoulder.

“Seriously? daydreaming about the dark lords son?” Angelina joked light-heartedly as she glanced over in Mattheos direction. You blushed as you looked at her and back to Mattheo

“Uh- No… just noticed him, that’s all.” You brush off. Rubbing your arm uncomfortably with the humid temperature of the party. You couldn’t help but sneak another glance at Mattheo as you swore you saw him look at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Good. You could do so much better than the local slytherin manwhore.” Angelina joked, before standing up from her spot on the little bench, pulling you up with her. “Come on girls! let’s dance instead of sit around like a bunch of bums, last party ‘till graduation.”

And then the night went on. You danced for what felt like forever with your friends. completely forgetting about the fact you’re all going to need to grow up in a couple weeks. That some of you were moving to completely different countries soon after graduation. You all just enjoyed each other’s company, talking to some of the other students that you guys were friends with but not tight nit. Gradually different girls in your friend group dispersed, going off with random guys or their boyfriends to hook up. until eventually it was just you, Angelina, and now Fred.

Fred and Angelina were grinding against each other as you took a quick break from dancing, downing another drink. Your body was feeling lighter now. Angelina was drunk as fuck, Fred almost just as drunk. You stumbled slightly as you made your way back over to the two drunks. Angelina reached out and pulled you closer, “Dance with uss,” She slurred out. You chuckled as you entertained her idea, dancing with them.

You were enjoying yourself before you felt hands firmly plant themselves onto your hips and your back come into contact with a the taller mans upper body. Causing you to freeze slightly. You blushed as you felt them grind themselves against you in sync with your previous dancing. You never did anything like this before so you internally panicked, looking at Angelina for help. But she only grinned, giving you a reassuring nod. you knew what she was saying: ‘Just go with it!’. So you listened, hesitantly moving your hips again. You took it as a good sign to continue when the grip the stranger had on your hips tightened ever so slightly.

You attempted to copy Angelinas movements as you started to feel yourself. That was until you heard a voice, the stranger leaning down to whisper in your ear with an amused tone: “Never knew the ‘hogwarts good girl’ could dance like this.”

Your eyes widened and heart beat picked up as you registered the voice. You knew that voice. “M-Mattheo..?” You stuttered out as you looked up at him wide eyed. Face flushing. His breath smelled heavily of Alcohol and cigarettes. You could faintly smell his go to ‘Dior sauvage’ cologne that you were forced to smell every day in the morning for three years.

“The one and only sweetheart.” He flirted, turning you around so that you face him. You feel his hard-on through his pants. You couldn’t muster a word as you stared in admiration and nervousness. This is your first time being so close to him. “What? cat got your tongue?” He teased with a smirk.

You blinked at his words before shaking your head, “No- no.. just surprised.” You attempted to say more casually, though it instead came out shy and timid. You finally looked down from his face, glancing at the silver chain locket around his neck with the Slytherin snake symbol decorating it, the black t-shirt he was wearing underneath a thin black button up jacket. You flinched lightly as you felt his hands start to run up and down your waist.

He chuckled at your response before asking; “Wanna head off somewhere else?” with a smirk. You knew what he was suggesting. It felt like everything was a dream. But at the same time you didn’t want him to expect too much from you. so you blurted out;

“I never did anything like this before.”

And that leads to your current situation. In a random, empty classroom in a heated make out session with Mattheo. You clench your thighs together in excitement. Your stomach doing little cartwheels as you pulled away again for air. You chuckled nervously as Mattheo started littering kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. You grinned softly, biting your lip as you got your breath back, hand resting on his shoulder as you glanced down at his bundle of curls. You were nervous. You heard stories about what it’s like to do things with him. That he’s rough, sadistic, and so on. All the things you didn’t want for trying anything remotely sexual for the first time, but now you couldn’t care less. perhaps it was just the alcohol in your system messing with your thinking. Either way you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you had while Mattheos’ kisses trailed along your collarbone until it stopped right in the middle. He pulled back and admired your dress, finger tracing along the ruffles at the very bottom of the dress.

“Cute dress,” He mumbled, standing up properly again, making you have to arch your head up to see his face. Your face flushed more -if it was even possible- as you stumbled over your words but eventually got out a small ‘Thank you’.

He grinned as his fingers gently ran across the outline of your face. This wasn’t the Mattheo that you heard others described, and you couldn’t help but notice the softness in his eyes as he admired your appearance. You quickly pushed the thought away the possibility of him liking you, you ‘were just another one of the girls he was gonna hook up with’ you thought. Perhaps the look in his eyes was just from the alcohol in his system. Or maybe he could tell how drunk you were. You only got knocked out of your thoughts when he asked you a question:

“Have you never even given a blowjob before?” Mattheo asks, his hand falling from your face and instead resting on your hips as his other hand rested on the desk next to you.

You glanced down, embarrassed as you bit the inside of your cheek. You felt ridiculous, you were nine-teen fucking years old and you’ve never even sucked a guy off yet, the most basic of stuff. You tried telling yourself that it wasn’t that big of a deal, but you couldn’t deny the pang of embarrassment that you felt when you had sleepovers with your friends and couldn’t relate with anything they said while talking about boys. Mattheo seemed to read your body language though as he chuckled and responded despite your lack of an answer.

“No?” he asked amused, tilting your head up to look at him again. “Want me to teach you?” he asked, grin plastered on his damned, handsome face. You swallowed in anticipation and nerves while nodding.

He wasted no time in picking you up off the table and turning the both of you around, switching the two of you’s places. “Get down on your knees sweetheart,” He told you as he pushed you down gently, his hand on your shoulders. You did as you were told, pushing the skirt of your dress up slightly so that you weren’t pulling it down by your knees.

Mattheo smirked down at you as he took his jacket off, going at a teasingly slow pace as he placed it behind him. With the jacket off you could see the shirt he had underneath. The sleeves stopping just at his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. Fuck was he hot. You weren’t sure what to do next as he leaned against the desks, hands resting behind him which held him up. He chuckled with an amused grin before saying; “You can undo the belt princess,”

You nodded, reaching up as you attempted to undo his belt. Feeling nervous to touch him, attempting to take the belt off while acting like you’re walking on eggshells. Mattheo struggled to hold back a laugh as he moved his hand to help you take the stupid belt off, slapping your hands away as he undid the belt himself. “You can pull a zipper down at least, right?” He asked with a smirk.

You smiled at his words, rolling your eyes as you mumbled out a yeah. taking the zipper into your fingers as you unzipped his black jeans. looking up at him as he simply nodded. You pulled his pants down slightly, leaving them at the middle of his thighs. You looked up nervously, and feeling slightly awkward as he watched you. Considering the fact you never did this before you were scared to progress. Holding the waistband of his boxers hesitantly. You couldn’t help but bite your lip to hold back a laugh as Mattheos own laugh resounded throughout the empty classroom. His hand gently playing with your hair as he spoke: “You don’t have to be so nervous, just pull the boxers down.” He said amused, causing yourself to let out a laugh, his attitude doing a surprisingly good job at making you feel more comfortable.

You shuffled his boxers down, his cock jumping free from its restraints and up against his clothed stomach. You gulped slightly at his size, about… 7 inches, But… how was that supposed to fit into your mouth?? “Uh… i don’t need to like… take the whole thing?” You asked for reassurance. getting more embarrassed as the absurd question escaped your lips.

You could tell Mattheo was enjoying every minute of this as you looked up at his charming smile as he let out another bark of laughter at your words. “Nah, you don’t gotta worry about that princess,” He said, easily holding eye contact as he played with a strand of hair. “I’ll train you for that another time,” He added. his words laced with arrogant confidence that he would do so. You rolled your eyes at his choice of words and tone, wanting to say something back but biting it back as Mattheo spoke again.

“It’s better if you start off with a little handjob.” Mattheo started, tone calm and patient. “Use your spit as a type of lube and it’ll feel 10 times better for any guy.” He instructed with a grin. You nodded, going to follow his instructions but you couldn’t help the awkward chuckle that escaped you, glancing up at Mattheo as you gripped him in your hand. You could feel how hard he was, his cock twitching slightly at the feeling of your colder hand wrapping firmly around the base. Mattheo too, chuckled. “What? i’m not gonna judge you,” He teased playfully. pulling your hair that out from the front of your face and onto your back.

You just awkwardly grinned before spitting the built up saliva from your mouth onto your hand, wrapping it around Mattheos cock. With an experimental flick of your wrist you spread the spread the spit around the base of his cock. You figured what you were doing was good when he let out a slight grunt and you saw his hand tighten around the desk. You gradually brought your hand up, blushing slightly as his cock twitched in your hand. You continued your movements, replicating what you’ve read from inappropriate books of girls in similar situations, spreading some of the spit around the swollen tip of his cock with your thumb. You could tell you were doing good by the way his breath hitched in his throat, his breathing picking up as his hips bucked into your touch, and the praise falling from his lips.

“Shit- you’re doing good. keep doing that but go a little faster.” Mattheo says, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. You listened, going faster as you cringed slightly at the feeling of the spit being spread around on your hand. You couldn’t help but reach your hand inbetween your thighs to help relieve some of the painful arousal, palming yourself through your soaked panties. You relished at the occasional moan or grunt that left his mouth and his laboured breathing.

Usually, at this point in the perverted books you’ve read, the girl would start to use her mouth. You weren’t sure if you should just go for it or wait. Trusting your gut you placed an experimental kitten lick along the side of his shaft, making him let out a breathy moan, his hand going to place itself gently on your hair, fingers entangling themselves with your hair.

You did the same thing along his entire shaft up to his tip. His fingers tightening around your locks of hair. “Try taking it into your mouth now,” He said, looking down at you. You bit your lip slightly as you let out a quick snort of laughter at his words, not being able to take this too seriously as the alcohol in your system was making everything ten times funnier.

“C’mon don’t be scared.” He teased, grinning at your laughter. His hand pushing your head slightly to edge you on. You just grinned slightly, glancing up at him.

His face flushed slightly as he bit his cheek, looking down at you. chest slowly going up and down. You watched as his arms flexed as you took him into your mouth, gagging as you quickly felt him go farther into your mouth than you’ve ever felt before. Stopping at just half his length before you were attempting to pull back. His hand held your head in place for a couple seconds before letting up, his hand falling back to his side. A ‘pop’ sounded in the room as you pulled back, coughing and wiping the bit of spit that seeped out from the corners of your mouth. You could feel the slight stretch of your mouth at the edge of , it was an uncomfortable feeling.

He smiled down at you recovered yourself. “Was that ok?” He asked, his tone patient. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and that everything was going at an ok pace for you.

You smiled up at him as you nodded. “I can continue,” You said eagerly. Waiting for him to agree as you grasped him in your hand again. slowly going up and down with your hand.

He nodded down at you, “Yeah. Try using your tongue a bit more while going…. uh.. up and down, yeah?” He asked, not sure exactly how to explain it. You smiled in response, taking him into your mouth again. It was easier to do this time though you could still only take about half of him. You let your tongue slide against the bottom of his shaft along a vein as you (attempted) to bop your head. the unfamiliar movement feeling awkward to do as you placed your hand on his thighs for support.

“Yeah shit- like that.” He said, his hand again finding solace on your head again. his hips gently thrusting into your mouth. Making you gag slightly. “Use your hand on the bit you can’t fit into your mouth-“ He said through moans, his voice sounding more desperate now. You followed what he said, your hand gripping the bit of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth, jerking him off.

You took his increasing moans and tightened grip on your hair as a sign that you’re doing good as you continued your movements. Gagging slightly as you struggled to breathe through your nose, eventually needing to pull away as you coughed slightly. You decided to replace the absence of your mouth with your hand as you caught your breath.

“You’re doing good for your first time,” Mattheo commented with a smirk, his face flushed. His hand moving down to wipe the spit from your face. “You sure you’re not lying to me?” He asked. Looking at you with slight, playful skepticism.

You bit your lip slightly in embarrassment as you admitted without fully thinking: “I read books… and watched a couple videos.”

Your face flushed in embarrassment at your sudden admission, taking in Mattheo’s reaction as his eyes widened slightly before quickly being replaced with amusement. “I knew you were a little too good of a student.” He teased with a smirk, hand going back to your hair as he pulled slightly, “Now c’mon. You’re supposed to be giving a blowjob. Not a handjob.”

You then continued. Attempting to get used to the full feeling in your mouth along with needing to breathe through your nose. Your jaw slowly starting to ache. Mattheo started pushing your head further down his cock, making you gag around him which seemed to only turn him on more. “Fuck… can’t wait to train your throat another time.” He said through a mix of a moan and groan. His words didn’t fully process through your lust and alcohol clouded brain. “You mind if i help you a little bit? hm?” He asked, hand twirling your hair into more of a makeshift ponytail. You just nodded as much as you could in response to his words. looking at him with lust-over, wide eyes.

He grinned as he bit his lip as you looked up at him, chuckling slightly. “Fuck yeah.., knew you’d agree.” He mumbled as he gripped your hair into a more firm grip as he started moving your head back and forth by your hair. With Mattheo controlling your movements you could focus more on trying to add to the pleasure with your tongue. swirling it around his cock as you placed small ‘kitten lick’ like flicks on the tip when he pulled you back.

You could only take it as he face-fucked you eagerly. And god was his sounds divine. His American accent making his random mumbles of curses or praise hotter, “Shit.. taking this like a champ, surprisingly.”

Or the occasional, every once in a while, quick whimpers that’d escape up his throat and out of his mouth. You just felt dizzy with excitement not only at what you’re doing- but the sudden revelation that he may like you too, or even that he chose you to hook up with of all girls. Your hands rested on his thighs as they started to flex more and more often, as well as his moans increase in pitch slightly.

Mattheo pulls you off his cock as he came. Not sure of your boundaries yet so he didn’t want to do anything too…. kinky?

You quickly started trying to fill your lungs with oxygen as you coughed softly, not as bad as the last two times though. You watched as Mattheo came, jacking himself off through it as his cum spurted out onto his shirt and hand.

You flinched as you felt something land on your face, blinking as you reached your hand up to touch at the sticky liquid on your face. Mattheo too noticed as his eyes widened slightly, quickly moving his hand to your face, wiping the cum off with his thumb. “Shit- sorry..” He said.

What you did next you weren’t sure if it was because you were genuinely curious, or too drunk to think properly. You held his wrist in place as you licked the cum off his thumb, grin plastered on your face as you took in his reaction. His cum tasted kind of salty and bitter, though not the worst thing you’ve tasted. Mattheo watched in shock combined with amusement as he grinned. “Well? how did it taste?” He asked, looking down at you as he shoved himself back into the confines of his pants. Amused at your actions. clearly he underestimated how much of a freak you really were.

You just grinned up at him as you let go of his wrist. “I’d take that over cottage cheese,” You said with a soft giggle as you were pulled up back to your feet by Mattheo. wobbling slightly as you got used to needing to stand on your feet.

Mattheo kept his hand in yours as he smiled at you, wiping the spit and small bits of his cum still on your face off. “Should i keep that in mind for our date?” He said, tone half confident and questioning. Though before you could hear anything you heard an all to familiar voice from the hallway,

“This Classroom, Now.” The voice that you both recognized as Severus Snape said, voice inching closer to the door of the room you two were in. You and Mattheo shared a glance before you both quickly went and hid behind a pile of random class stuff. Perfectly hiding the two of you when you sat.

You two glanced at each other as you both grinned before jumping slightly as the door to the class slammed open and then closed. “Sit.” Severus Snape demanded as he walked dangerously close to the two of you. “The amount of times i have caught you two doing some type of obscenity in public is As.tro.nom.i.cal.” Snape spoke, putting pointed emphasis on ‘astronomical’.

“We’re teenagers being teenagers, what else would you expect?” The voice of a student said. You and Mattheo both shared a glance as you both stifled back chuckles, recognizing the voice. Fred Weasley, which most likely meant the other student was Angelina. You could practically hear the grin on Freds face.

“Teenager or not i expect you to have some decency.” Snape spat out, strictness and annoyance in his tone. “Especially since you’re only here for two and a half more weeks.” Snape added, putting emphasis as he spoke ‘two and a half.’ You covered your mouth as you giggled quietly, scooting closer to Mattheo as he moved his arm to make room for you. You two practically cuddling against eachother as you two listened to Fred and Angelina get lectured by Professor Snape.

Mattheo glanced down at you before smiling, genuinely. Whispering down to you: “As i was saying, date tomorrow morning at Hogsmeade? Three Broomsticks?” He asked. Silently hoping in his head that you’ll say yes.

You shared his genuine smile as you nodded excitedly, “Of course.” You tried to whisper back casually, though your tone exposed the excitement coursing through you as you rested your head on his shoulder and smiled like an idiot.

“Though you should probably clean the cum off your shirt.”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by enzosbabyangel, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

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