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velvetlilith777 · 6 months ago

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Cedar Smoke

Sebastian x Reader

Author's Note: Another practice drabble! This one was loosely inspired by a plot post I saw on tik tok that was so cute it stayed in my head rent free. Also wrote this one gender neutral and I think I did pretty okay if that's chill to say.

Synopsis: Neither you or Sebastian sleep well, so you decide to spend the nights hanging out together since there's nothing better to do. It's just a way to kill time, right?

CW: Fluff mostly!!! They aren't in a relationship. Swearing bc it's a Seb fic so of course there is. Mentions and descriptions of anxiety and mental health problems. Oh also cigarettes because - Sebastian <3

Word Count: 2k

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It was enough to drive a person mad. An incessant reminder of every second you weren't resting.

You were tired, of course you were. Operating a successful farm and carrying the needs of a small community on your back wasn't for the weak. Every part of your body and mind ached for rest at the end of every day.

Each night followed the same routine: get home, bond with your dog, eat dinner, shower and head to bed. At the end of it, you always felt like you'd be able to fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. However, when your head would finally lay and you'd begin to drift off, the last second before the sweet release of your dreams was met with what felt like a hammer to your chest. Knocking the wind out of you, you'd shoot upright upon being greeted by your old friend, anxiety. It wasn't the normal kind you dealt with on a daily basis, manageable with medication and some methods Harvey had taken the time to teach you. It was much worse and much heavier in your body. You weren't sure what the root cause was, just that it had been happening every night for months now matter what you changed or how you tried to cope.

You'd been lying there for hours, the clock finally hitting your last nerve. Sighing, you rolled over in search of your phone, finding it shoved under your pillow from when you gave up on a video or a game helping you calm down. The screen illuminated far too bright as you turned it on. Noticing you had a text notification from 20 minutes ago, you already knew who was trying to reach you at such an hour.

Seb: sleeping?

Of course he wasn't either. Though he would never fully share what was on his mind, you knew similar circumstances kept him awake well past most people too.

nope 🙃

Seb: same. wanna chill again?

yeah, you can come over here if you want

Seb: cool, be there soon

Standing up from your bed, you started fumbling around in the dark looking for something to change into instead of your pajama shirt. Settling on a sweatshirt, you threw it on and left your pajama pants for your bottoms before remembering that everything would've been easier if you'd just turned a light on. You really weren't sure how you were able to get about your day anymore with the effects of sleep deprivation in full swing.

The first time the two of you had spent the night in each other's company was accompanied by a symphony of frogs surrounding the lake by his house. The familiar pang of nighttime anxiety pushing you to search for any solution, you'd taken a walk under the stars to try and work through the tightness in your chest when you stumbled upon him smoking in search of similar relief. Since that night when you'd both realized you had similar luck around sleep, spending the dark hours together had become common, happening most nights of the week.

Padding out to your living room, you turned a single lamp on and plopped down on your couch while you waited for Sebastian to arrive. You began to scroll through instagram to pass the time, only making it through a handful of posts before you heard a knock on your door.

"It's open!" A half shout left your throat.

Creaks filled your ears as the programmer swung the door open letting himself in. A smile crept across his lips as a greeting.

"Hey, are you cold?" His nose was covered in a flush of red, reflecting the chill beginning to settle in for the upcoming season.

"Always. We can start a fire?" Your head tilted towards the stone fireplace his mother had carefully installed in your home during your last renovation.

"Thank god, it's fucking freezing out there" he let out a low chuckle while shutting the cabin door.

"I can make us some coffee too? Decaf, though, unless you want to commit to this whole 'awake when we shouldn't be' thing?" You poked, hopping up and striding towards the mug cabinet in your kitchen.

Sebastian glanced up from the fireplace where he'd already achieved a successful kindle over to where you had sat two of your favorite mugs. "Decaf is fine, but only because we should be sleeping. Don't give me that shit during the day."

The two of you locked eyes, the emo giving you a snarky side smile.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

With your mugs full of your shared favorite beverage, you returned to your spot on the sofa and pulled out the giant, chunky blanket Emily had knit for you last Feast of the Winter Star. Sebastian followed not long after, the fireplace crackling with the sounds of warmth.

"What's the vibe for tonight?" Your usual cheery tone coated your words even at this hour.

"Mmhm, we could start The Witcher over again? It's been awhile." Fabric slid across your legs as he tugged the blanket lightly to join you in bundling up.

"I'll never say no long-haired Henry Cavill!"

Taking a swig of his coffee, he snorted a laugh and shook his head at your thirst. You met his gaze with a giggle, reaching for the remote on the table beside him. The familiar dum dum of the Netflix intro sound filled your living room as you flipped on the series you'd rewatched a dozen times now.

Feeling a familiar cramp start up in your thighs from the hours of labor you put into your work each week, you decided you hadn't picked the most comfortable position to rest in having sat cross legged on the couch. Sebastian caught you wincing out of the corner of his eye as you adjusted your legs for any alleviation from how taught your muscles had become.

"You okay?" It came out almost a whisper, so quiet you weren't sure if he meant to ask at all.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just sore from the farm. Sitting like this isn't helping either" a light laugh followed your words as you attempted to deflect from how unpleasant your pain had actually become.

He studied your face for a moment, your eyebrows had begun to furrow at the burn throughout your body while you continued to squirm in search of comfort. How you had overworked yourself to this point of exhaustion and still were wide awake with him he both did and did not understand. You should be passed out by now, but mental health was a bitch that took no prisoners, he knew that well.

"Would it help if you laid down?"

Shaking your head while giving him a tired smile, you returned "no, I can't watch the show from my room and I can't sleep either, remember?"

"No, on me" the emo blurted out so quickly he didn't realize how timid he should've been. "I meant, would it help if you laid on me. Out here."

Your mouth parted in shock briefly before finding the wit to respond. "Oh no, I really wouldn't want to do that to you I'll be f-"

"I don't mind. Promise" his face was straight aside from the worry lines on his forehead, giving away his genuine concern for you as he cut you off.

"Here." He gently helped you stand up before positioning himself horizontally on the cushions, resting his head on the arm. Once he had settled, his hand tapped against his chest beckoning you to him.

"Okay, fine, but this is better for your neck," you sighed a small laugh before tossing a throw pillow at his face. As you moved to crawl on top of him, he adjusted the pillow behind his head and moved to bring the blanket back over the both of you.

Stretching out, it was as if your body began to melt into his. Scent overwhelmed you in the best way. The air smelt of cedar from the fire, while the smell of tobacco smoke lingered on his hoodie. You weren't sure what cologne he wore, but something spicy and warm enveloped your head. Beams of light danced on the walls as the fire flickered around. Moment by moment, the ache in your chest grew lighter.

Geralt and Stregobor had just begun speaking in the illusion of the mage's tower when your eyes started to flutter shut. Sebastian's heartbeat thumping in your ear with the comfort of your favorite show in the other was enough to finish lulling you off with the anxiety now at bay. Once you allowed yourself to surrender to the exhaustion that was now your biggest worry, waking you up wouldn't be possible until morning.

"Want to watch the next one?" Sebastian quizzed as episode one came to a close.

Silence. Not even a twinge of movement left your body. He pushed your hair out of your face while he peered down at you in hopes of getting your attention. Greeted with the most peaceful he'd seen your face in months, the reality of the situation washed over him. You actually fell asleep. The corners of his mouth crept upward, relief brought to his mind that one of you was able to rest after all.

Seb pressed play on the next episode. Checking the time, he decided he'd put you to bed after this one and head home. His thumb mindlessly rubbed circles on your back and in your hair. Tension grew on the tv, but he found himself yawning when he should've been paying the most attention. Shit. He was about to fall asleep too. Realizing he wouldn't be able to make it through the rest of the hour, a wave of guilt hit him - he wanted to stay. Your body felt like the kindest weighted blanket on his own. The smells of amber and vanilla from your shampoo had been filling his nose as he played with your hair. His brain was quiet, and he couldn't remember the last time it was.

No. It would be wrong to overstay his welcome just because both of you had found peace in this moment. You weren't awake and able to ask him to stay and he wouldn't let himself cross any unspoken boundaries you may have had.

His elbows found the bottom cushions. He began to push both of you up in an effort to carry you to bed. As he slowly started moving, so did your head. Your arms wrapped around little tighter around his back. He froze, hearing you grumble something incoherent while your eyebrows furrowed together. Fuck. He wasn't sure how to get out from under you and keep you asleep.

Pulling an arm out from under him, he began to stroke your hair again.

"Hey, I need to get you to bed" he cooed.

You lightly shook your head, your brows still knit together. You muttered a small no along with it, but it was quiet enough to leave room for doubt.

He wasn't sure what to do. If he kept going, you were bound to wake up fully. You weren't actually awake enough to make a sound decision, but the small gestures you did manage made it seem like you wanted him to stay right there and stop moving. It went against everything in his moral code to stay without welcome, and he didn't want to put your friendship at risk. But god, his brain was calm and you were so comforting.

"Fuck it" he whispered to himself. If this was the wrong decision, he would gladly pay the price in the morning. His head met the pillow you'd given him as he wrapped his arms back around you. He swore he saw a smile tug at the corners of your lips in response. Hitting play on the show again, he let the quiet of his mind and the serenity of the moment soothe him away.

For the first time in years, he got a full night's worth of rest in your company.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian #sebastian stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #insomnia plot #sebastian x reader #sebastian x gender neutral reader #sebastian fluff #stardew valley sebastian fluff #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley sebastian fanfic #stardew valley one shot

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writersp3noldacc · 7 months ago

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···➯ 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐞: 𝐒𝟎𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

⋆.˚ ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐗 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞; Masterlist and other things regarding my blog are on my site. I started writing this before, we found out about that scraped ending (thank god they didn’t put it in.) At first, it was his family (of my own headcanon.) But I changed it to his mom last minute. I'm also finishing up a request I got it’s almost done so it's probably coming out in a day or 2. And this is my first Sebastian fic, def not the last one either. AO3

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; You knew Sebastian missed his life before UrbanShade, so you try to give him what you could of it.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; Cursing, Fluff, Angst, Crying, Slight Sebastian Backstory spoilers (?), Reader and Sebastian are genuinely nice to each other.

8.27.24 |𝟏.𝟏𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

✂〰〰〰〰〰

You were clawing through the vent to Sebastian's Shop, but once you got in there, he wasn’t there to greet you with a snarky remark. It didn’t take long for you to find him, sleeping in his makeshift bedroom area. Tail hanging off the edge, swaying slightly but something was off. You could hear soft whimpers and mumbles coming from where he rested. “M-mom, I didn’t do it, I.. I didn’t kill those people.” You heard him say as he tossed and turned, he was having a nightmare.

Walking over to the area where he rested, there was a ladder, partially covered by his tail. Nonetheless, you could still use it to wake him. You could hear him call out for his mother once more, and others mostly feminine names, but one “Michael” that was a boy's name for sure. Was it his son? Father maybe? No couldn't make sense that he was calling his dad by his real name; It had to be his son.

You were nearly at the top before his tail whipped around, and you pulled back dodging it. “God damn giant..” you grumbled, pushing yourself up on the ledge. Brushing your knees you crept over to Sebastian’s shelter, making sure to not step on anything he might’ve had in his makeshift bedroom. As you stood over him, reaching down to tap him on his shoulder you watched as his face contorted with discomfort and his ears twitched. You observed him for a few seconds watching, waiting to see if he would wake up himself, but he didn’t. Instead, he whimpered and mumbled more calling out a woman by the name of Abigail, his body twitching and he began to toss and turn more.

It began to bother you to see his discomfort crouching down, you gently placed your hand on his shoulder shook him, and called out his name a few times. “Sebastian, Sebastian get up. It’s me.”

“Mom?” He reached out toward your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him grab you. “No, it's y/n” you answered, “You were having a nightmare, I just wanted to wake you up.” Pulling your hand back from my shoulder. You took a few steps back, giving him his space.

“Thanks.. for that.”

“You’re welcome”

Sebastian made his way down the ladder, to shop part of the room. You followed behind, you were getting ready to climb back down before he spoke up.

“Jump.”

“What?”

“I said jump,” He repeated himself. “I know what you said but what.” You furrowed your brows, “I’ll catch you,” he added. You looked up at Sebastian and back down at the floor, and again, you looked back at him. “ You want me to jump and expect you to catch me?” You question all you got was a simple nod in return. “Ready?” he asked, extending his arms, prepared to catch you. Taking a deep breath, you stopped the back of it, giving yourself a run start before you jumped off the ledge half of you expected the fall to the ground and just died. You came to a stop when you felt Sebastian’s hand wrapped around both of your arms and gently placed you on the ground. “That wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.”

“Take whatever you need, free of charge.” The serpent stretched out his two upper arms, while the third one scratched his back. You paused for a moment, before speaking. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

You gleamed, smiling as hard as you ever have since you’ve been with Urbanshade. You quickly ran over to the table stuffed a few batteries in your pocket, grabbing a flashlight, beacon, and a medkit. “Thank you so much, Seb I promise I'll make it up to you next time. You have my word.” And with that, you crawled right back to the vent and went on with your task.

You left Sebastian, alone to sit with his thoughts. Usually, he would be thinking about collecting stuff off of dead Expandables but this time was different, the memory of his wife calling him was the only thing he could think about, she was the only woman to call him Seb.

────────────────────⋆⋅♰⋅⋆────────────────────

Pushing open the vent that led to Sebastian's shop you called out, “Seb, I got something you gonna really like!” All you got was a hum from him before he approached you. He watched as you started pulling things out of the bag you had, which was weird usually they don't let expendables bring anything with them down here. “Here's the normal stuff you ask for, but I was able to convince them to let me use a laptop and a printer.” Smile plastered on your face, you handed him a file ‘S0lace’. He took it, of course, opened it, and looked at the papers carefully. Flipping the pages there with photos of people, he knew these people it was his family. His mom, Wife, son, and his daughter. His brows furrowed as he glanced up at you “Why?”

“The last time we saw each other, you were having a nightmare.” You said glancing down at the ground, nervous about how Sebastian might react. “You were calling out to people, your mom..” You paused, “You were calling for her, and your wife. I just thought you would like to know what they were up to in life.” You spoke quietly, picking at your nails you felt Sebastian stare at you.

Sebastian listened to your short explanation as he continued to look through the folder, his sisters were there, and his younger brother as well. “And you got this past them?” He questioned, you nodded in response yet that did not satisfy him. “Words.”

“I- I did.” You stuttered, “I um, it wasn’t easy though I uh almost got caught, but I got it down here for you.” You recalled the memory, the room was filled with silence. Before you felt Sebastian's lower arm wrap around you and pull you in for a hug. Sebastian was buried into your shoulder, as you stood there in shock for a few seconds before returning the gesture. “Th-thank you, I- You don’t understand how much his means to me.” You heard him mumble. “You’re welcome.” You replied, you felt your shoulder begin to dampen. You started rubbing Sebastian's back, “It’s okay, you don't have to hold it in.” You comforted him.

Sebastian began crying, his body relaxed, as he sobbed. In all your time knowing the giant blue sea creature you never saw him cry. but yet you coddled him in this moment.

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princess-sallow · 2 years ago

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Dancing with my Slytherin boys at the Yule Ball. 🥰🌸💕

I am so in love with it and it makes me happy. Thank you! 🥹✨

Commission by: @giselsan

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #mc x sebastian sallow #mc x ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis fluff #sebastian fluff #sebastian x mc #ominis x mc #ominis x sebastian x mc #sebastian x ominis x mc #sebastian x mc x ominis #ominis x mc x sebastian #yule ball

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penguiniiii · 22 days ago

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"Imma Fight A Man!"

Sebastian x Cat Girl Hybrid!Reader

Ur his gf who is also a cat girl teehee.

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Sebastian Michaelis had seen a great many things in his time, but his beloved cat-girl companion was perhaps the most peculiar entity he had ever encountered. Not because of her feline ears or the tail that twitched whenever she got too excited—no, it was her personality that baffled him.

Their first meeting had been entirely accidental. While patrolling the manor grounds one evening, he had spotted a small, sleek black cat darting through the gardens. At first, he had merely observed, amused by the creature’s seemingly deliberate attempts to evade him. But when he had reached out, intent on scooping up the little feline, it had abruptly shifted form—transforming from a simple house cat into a bewildered young woman right before his eyes.

She had frozen, ears flattened against her head, tail puffed up in alarm before dashing off once more. Intrigued, Sebastian had effortlessly pursued her, cornering her in a secluded alcove. Instead of fear, however, she had simply pouted, arms crossed as she declared, "That was so unfair. You can’t just chase a lady like that!"

Amused beyond reason, he had extended an offer. "If you’re going to skulk about the manor in feline form, you might as well make yourself useful. How does employment sound?"

Despite some initial skepticism, she had accepted, her curiosity outweighing her wariness. Thus began their unusual arrangement, and from the very first day, Sebastian had realized he had acquired the most chaotic assistant imaginable.

She was, in the simplest terms, a walking contradiction. Clumsy to the point of tripping over nothing, yet possessing the fearless tenacity of a guinea pig ready to throw paws over the slightest injustice. She would face down a pack of wolves if one so much as looked at her the wrong way, yet she could hardly go five minutes without knocking over a tea tray or tripping on the manor’s carpets.

Today, she was proving both these traits simultaneously.

Sebastian watched with passive amusement as you stumbled through the manor halls, nearly toppling over a small side table in your rush. Your ears were perked forward with determination, tail bristled like you were preparing for battle. He sighed, already knowing exactly what was about to happen.

“Mister Sebastian!” you called, breathless and wild-eyed. “There’s a grave injustice occurring in the kitchen!”

He raised a single brow, the very picture of calm. “Is there?”

“Yes!” You huffed, placing your hands on your hips. “The lettuce in the salad is wilted!"

Sebastian blinked slowly. “...I see.”

“I refuse to stand idly by while our leafy comrades suffer such disgrace!” You stomped a foot, which would have been quite dramatic had you not lost your balance in the process. With an undignified yelp, you pitched forward. Sebastian, ever the graceful demon, caught you effortlessly before you could hit the floor.

“You should be more careful, my dear,” he murmured, holding you just close enough to fluster you. “One might think you charge into battle before checking your footing.”

You pouted, ears flattening in frustration. “It’s not my fault the floor is slippery.”

“The floor is not slippery.”

You ignored this, already wriggling out of his hold with renewed energy. “We must replace the lettuce! It’s a matter of honor!"

Sebastian let out the softest of sighs but found himself following as you stormed toward the kitchen with all the fury of a warrior marching to war. Once there, you dramatically pointed at the offending salad, making Baldroy, who had been minding his own business, flinch in confusion.

“This. Is. Unacceptable!” you declared. “Baldroy, how could you let this happen?!”

Baldroy blinked at you, then at Sebastian, who merely gave a small shrug. “Uh… it’s just lettuce?”

“Just lettuce?!” you gasped, looking positively betrayed. “Would you eat just an overcooked steak? No! Lettuce deserves better!”

Sebastian watched you, amusement flickering behind his crimson eyes. For all your clumsiness, for all your absurdity, you were entirely serious about this. And, perhaps more troubling, you were so incredibly endearing when you got like this.

Baldroy let out a tired sigh, rubbing the back of his head. “Sebastian, you seriously gonna let her go on like this? It’s salad, not life or death.”

Sebastian, however, wasn’t listening to Baldroy in the slightest. Instead, his gaze was entirely fixated on you—more specifically, on the little pink paw pads peeking out as you crossed your arms in defiance. Your twitching ears, your indignant puffed-up tail—it was all absurdly captivating. He reached out, casually smoothing a hand over your bristled ears, watching in satisfaction as they flicked under his touch.

“You truly are relentless,” he mused, his fingers scratching lightly behind your ears, making your tail flick. “Very well. We shall ensure the lettuce meets your high standards.”

You beamed, all earlier frustration vanishing in an instant. “Really?”

“Of course. I would hate to see you go to battle over such a grievous crime.”

You giggled, bumping your head against his shoulder in an affectionate nuzzle. “You’re the best, Sebastian.”

He merely smiled, though there was something knowing in the way his eyes gleamed. “Indeed.”

Before you could react, he scooped you up into his arms with effortless grace, cradling you as if you weighed nothing. A surprised squeak escaped you, ears twitching as you instinctively curled closer to him.

“S-Sebastian!”

He gazed down at you, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “You are far too excitable for your own good. I believe you need a moment to calm down.”

Your tail flicked indignantly, but your face grew warm as you buried it against his chest. “I was not that excitable…”

“Mm, of course,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “And I suppose you weren’t about to challenge the kitchen staff to a duel over lettuce either.”

You huffed, cheeks burning. “That’s different!”

Baldroy sighed heavily, crossing his arms and looking at Sebastian with a deadpan expression. “You’re really just gonna let her get away with this, huh?”

Sebastian, still entirely enamored with you, idly ran a finger over your soft paw pads, watching with amusement as your fingers twitched in response. “I fail to see a problem, Baldroy. After all, one must have some standards.”

Baldroy threw his hands up in exasperation. “You’re impossible.”

Sebastian merely adjusted his hold on you, looking down at your flustered expression with quiet satisfaction.

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hollowwrites · 1 year ago

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🤍 Sebastian Masterlist 🤍

✨ Main Masterlist ✨

🔞 Sebastian Headcanon 🔞- Headcanons for everyone’s favourite Trash Man

🤍

Missed Opportunities - Sebastian makes up for not going to a wedding with Victoria

The Captain and Her Keeper - Seb and Imelda cuteness

🤍

(Separate Sebastian stuff that isn’t really canon to my other stuff)

Angsty Seb Request - a little themed request for after Sebastian’s story ends

Possession and Obsession - Request for Seb handling a possessed MC

The Yule Ball - Drabble of practising for the Yule Ball with MC

Game Changer - Drabble for Sebastian telling Imelda about fifth year

What do you propose? - Sebastian proposing fluff

Medusa’s Vipers - Ominis and Sebastian being protective of Evelyn

🤍

Don’t know where else to put this so this is the Relic I made…

Little reference for my Seb

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todoroki-waifu · 2 years ago

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Headcanons about how Sebastian, Agni, and Rei would react accidentally overheard their gender neutral crush saying that they would be thrilled to have him as their romantic partner?

Warning: Gender neutral reader.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 392

-------

~Sebastian(Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler)~

Will act unfazed, but you can see a knowing smile on his face as he walks in on your conversation.

Offers you refreshments, but pours you a cup of tea first (he knows you tend to forget to stay hydrated).

You're a bit nervous that he's not saying anything because it's so obvious he heard you.

Asks you what's bothering you as if it was like asking how's the weather.

Sebastian will tell you that he did indeed hear what you said, but only after you bring up the topic.

He's the type to make you so curious that you'll burst and have to tell him what's on your mind.

Though it's hard to determine what he's thinking/feeling, he is also thrilled that your feelings are mutual.

Finds that he would need to work harder on getting you to not hide what's on your mind.

~Agni (Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler)~

Agni has to immediately slap a hand over his mouth to keep a loud gasp from slipping out.

Tries to keep himself unseen, but fails.

Apologizes constantly because he doesn't want you to think he's eavesdropping on your conversations.

Agni tells you that he can forget what you said if it makes you uncomfortable.

His heart is leaping out of his chest when you tell him you don't want him to forget, but want to know his thoughts.

Not sure who gasped louder, you or him?

Definitely awkward about it at first, but relaxes after you reassure him to act like himself.

That's what made you fall for him in the first place.

Is too shy to kiss you on the lips/cheeks, but will hold your hand and kiss it.

~Rei (Buddy Daddies)~

His ears perked up immediately.

Doesn't try to hide his presence.

Will come out and say "What?!"

Rei won't yell it, but his face says everything.

As you try to explain, he cuts you off and asks why you didn't tell him sooner?

Because the two of could have been playing Morio Kart together a long time ago!

He's never asked you before because he wasn't sure if you'd want to play with him.

But now you both can! (If you want.)

His brain is rushing with different date ideas...most of them consisting of arcades or laser tag.

Excited that he can share his likes/hobbies with you and vice versa.

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rae-and-mezo · 2 years ago

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Can you do when ominis and sebastion reactions when freader speaks Spanish to them like romantic and don't understand?

A/n: I am not hispanic, nor do I speak Spanish! I am doing my best to honor people who do speak Spanish and or are Hispanic. Please, if I mess something up, tell me!!

Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt

Sebastian Sallow:

You're curled up with him in your Vivarium after a particularly hot day. Thankfully the enclosure is charmed too always be cool.

While yes, Sebastian CAN be a romantic, he can also be a nuisance. This was one of those days. He heard you complaining about the weather and dropped an ice cube down the back of your robes. You had spent the day looking for your lionfish spines only to find Sebastian had borrowed them and forgot to put them back.

So yeah. You were kinda annoyed with him. But, unfortunately, you love him. He apologized to you with a kiss and asked to have a date in the vivarium. Of course you couldn't say no to those eyes.

"I do hope you didn't get into much trouble over the lion spines." He mumbled into your hair.

"No, Professor Sharp didn't notice. I do owe Imelda a handful of them though."

He laughed at that. You both were quiet a moment before you decided to break the silence. "You're lucky I love you, Amor. A veces, me vuelves loca."

"Uh, what?" He leaned down to your face with a confused expression. "What does that mean?"

"That's for me to know." You teased.

A laugh bubbled from his chest. "You should speak Spanish more often. It's pretty."

"Sólo para ti mi amor."

Ominis Gaunt:

Ominis's favorite place to be is probably the lake. He just likes the sound of the waves and the smell is even slightly comforting. The lake is especially nice when you're there with him.

He's leaning against you with a soft smile as you read aloud from your book. Of course, he's capable of reading it himself but your voice is just so nice :)

He's startled when something runs across his lap and lets out a small yelp. "What was that?"

between your giggles you manage to answer him. "It was just a chipmunk!"

The chipmunk hadn't run away since most of the little guys were used to letting humans pet them in exchange for a scrap of dinner or an extra peanut. So you picked it up and held it to Ominis.

"Look! He's friendly!"

Carefully Ominis reached out. He let the chipmunk sniff his hand first before scratching it lightly on the head. "It's soft." He smiled. "and so...small! I thought they were bigger than this!"

With the way his face lit up at the small animal, you couldn't help but smile at him. So much love coursing through your veins.

"Eres un alma hermosa, querida."

You whispered it so quietly that Ominis almost didn't hear. "Hm? What does that mean?"

"oh, uh." You flushed even though he couldn't see you. "It means you have a beautiful soul...my dear."

His face tinged with pink. "O-oh. Well, thank you. As do you." He gave the Chipmunk one more scratch before you put him down and rewarded him with a piece of an apple. "Where were we?"

#Ominis Gaunt #Sebastian Sallow #Hogwarts legacy #hphl #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x reader #ominis fluff #ominis imagine #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis headcanon #hogwarts legacy headcanon #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian imagine #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian fluff #sebastian sallow fluff #hogwarts legacy x reader

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purpleandgreen13 · 6 months ago

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Day 11 - Furniture

Little bit of Sebastian fluff for your Sunday evening reading pleasure

#stardew valley inktober 2024 #stardew sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #sebastian sdv #sebastian stardew valley #Seb and reader #writer #writers on tumblr #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #stardew fanfic #stardew valley fanfiction #sdv fanfic #Sebastian fluff

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serpentsillusion · 11 months ago

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Hello HL fandom Friends! I've been away for a while, raised from the dead as I should be. Here is my latest doodle. ✨

|| Under the Stars ||

Ft. Sebastian Sallow x Jess Burke (MC)

I love them so much 😭 ✨

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sebbybooks · 1 year ago

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My Sister’s Neighbor

Sebastian Stan Fanfiction

Part 3

I can only assume that everyone on this street was sleeping while Sebastian and I were the only ones awake. From my limiting view behind the window I look around and wondered if anyone else could see him watching me.

I should be terrified. The longer I sat with that feeling it started to feel like I was asking myself if I truly was. In hindsight I was alone with him. No one knew what was happening or was about to transpire in the middle of the night on their quiet little street. Not even my sister who was sound asleep in Sebastian’s home.

I wondered if that same thought crossed his mind as well. I pretended to look over my shoulder as if someone else was there. To give the illusion that I wasn’t actually by myself. He stared back at me undeterred like he knew my bluff, because by now he knew the line between us had already been crossed. Sighing a shaking breath I knew what I needed to do, an yet every logical thought paralyzed me as opposed to offering my mind a sense of sanctuary. Instead, I floated in a puddle of confusion. Almost like I chose this option on purpose. Like I wanted to be hunted. Without hesitation or even a single thought as to why I even did what I did. I slid the curtains away so that I could finally see him in clear view.

Faint orange lights glowed down the street and yet Sebastian still looked like a dark shadow. I stared into the darkness nearly straining my vision trying to get a good look at him. This man was twisted.

There’s simply no denying that anymore, but at this point what does that make me? Overflowing with a different kind of warmth that borders the thin line of arousal. I realized Sebastian was pushing me to insanity at this point if he was making me feel things for him. However, nothing was going to happen I thought to myself. He wasn’t going to step away from his perfect illusion especially since Dakota was so close. I was good, I was fine.

With that knowledge in mind I reacted rather stupidly by thinking between my legs instead of my head. It felt like an outer body experience one that I had no ability to tame. Moving the palm of my hand I brushed across my shoulders to push down the straps of my thin tank top. It slid down stopping at the waistband above my shorts. I let him drink the sight of me in for just a second. It was a strange erotic pleasure I felt knowing he caught a glimpse of me. Lifting up on my toes, I lifted my arm to draw back the curtains. Just as I closed it completely I peeked around it one last time to see if he was still there.

Of course he was gone.

My body froze. I stared at the spot he stood seconds ago. I tried to calm my nerves by telling myself he went back inside his house. Sebastian couldn’t have gone far that quick. I looked out the window for signs that he was back in his home. There were none that I could see, yet I still couldn’t relax. It dawned on me that he did possess a spare key to this house all thanks to my love crushed sister.

THREE DAYS EARLIER

“Why the hell do you have my cat?” The sight of Angus threw me in a tailspin that I couldn’t wrap my head around. Without further delay I quickly bent down and scooped him up before he could get away again. Though, watching as he cozied up to Sebastian I didn’t think the old boy dreamt of ever leaving him.

“I didn’t know that was your cat.” Sebastian says, lifting his brow curiously.

“Were you just not going to return him to his rightful owner?” I accuse.

Sebastian looks back at me with a frustrated glare, swallowing down a groan. “My only crime is that I gave him cat food and water when he wandered to my door.”

“Oh, so it didn’t dawn on you that he belonged to me when you clearly saw me with a cat carrier yesterday?” I say with a calmness to my tone, but it was laced with anger.

“I have to admit I am enjoying how much you think you left an impression on me from the ten seconds I caught a glance at you.” He looks at me like I am the delusional person here. An for a millisecond a cold splash of reality hit me right in the face. What if I was doing it again? Overlapping what was real and what wasn’t. I mean I did tell myself I heard him call my name yesterday. Which honestly could have been my mind playing tricks on me. Now I am accusing him of cat napping Angus. For all I know he actually could have wandered out of the house. I mean it isn’t like I’m his favorite person.

I was pulled from my own thought when Angus’s tailed swatted against my arm. Usually that was his way of urging me to put him down.

“Well…. ok.” I say as I turn to walk away.

“I think the words you are looking for are I’m sorry.” The low cadence in his voice falls across my ears.

“For what exactly?” I scoffed.

He fixates on something behind me before dragging his gaze back to me. I look up at him staring into his eyes dumb founded.

He folded his arms and made a mock expression as if he were thinking about something. “Let’s see, how about you charging over here onto my property ready to raise hell for no damn reason all for a cat you aren’t properly watching.”

Sensible words were lost on me, because I was too stunned by this buzzcut, too tight t-shirt wearing asshole before me. I kept my expression calm and I nodded my head suggesting that he wasn’t wrong.

“You’re right I should say fuck you.” I smile up at him.

“Demetria!” I hear my sister’s voice booming behind from behind me. I turn to see my sister’s face contorted with embarrassment and shock as she speed walks across the street. When she finally reaches where the two of us stands Dakota looks over to Sebastian apologetically and glares at me like a errant child and not an adult. Automatically assuming I am the one in the wrong here. And so what if I am? She’s my sister and she’s suppose to have my back.

“Is everything alright?” My sister asks with a giant fake smile plastered across her face. Sebastian flicks his gaze to me and I bore my eyes into his.

“I have food here for strays.” He exhales.

I let out a laugh. “Of course you do.”

Sebastian’s gaze soften and the corner of his eyes crinkle. Shaking his head slowing, the corner of his mouth upturn into a small smile as he turns away on his heels. Walking further into his garage I stand behind watching in curiosity. Within seconds Sebastian returns carrying two clear totes before dropping it to the ground. My eye’s immediately roam over to what’s in them. I roll my eyes to the point it hurts. I glance up at Sebastian and he’s looking at me like he wants to say I told you so.

Sure enough there was variations of food for cats and dogs, alongside rolled up blankets, disposable food bowls, and a handful of nylon collars.

“If he was still here when I got back I was going to check to see if he was chipped or not.” Sebastian says.

Dakota clutches her heart with both of her hands. “That is so sweet of you.” Her voice no louder than a whisper.

“It nothing. I run a nonprofit animal rescue sanctuary. I keep some stuff with here with me just in case I come across any strays in the area. This little guy was most likely attracted to the scent.”

“Who knew I lived across the street from Clark Kent.” Dakota cooed, it took everything in me to not crinkle my nose in disgust.

I stare back at her blankly unsure of what the hell was actual happening.

Bending down to access him, Dakota timidly rubs his paw between her fingers.

I look up at Sebastian. He was already watching me. Attempting to bite back a smirk, he turns himself away from me to face Dakota. “ I was just telling his owner Demi I’d never turn away from a pet in need.” The way he said my name sent moths instead of butterflies to my stomach.

“Really? Cause that’s not what I heard.” Dakota directing that towards me.

“I am going to walk away now.” I leave the two of them feeling weird. It wasn’t the weirdness you feel when you know you’re being left out or like you’ve been walking around with a stain on your pants that no one told you about. It was the feeling like something was wrong kind of weird. Not even barely out of earshot I could hear Dakota say to him. “I guess it’s still fresh for her, I mean its almost been a year since she lied about being stalked.”

#sebastian stan #sebby stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan story #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #sebby barnes #sebbytrash #sebastian stan fic #mcu fic #sebastian fluff

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serpentsillusion · 1 year ago

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He's such a cute little jelly bean. 💚🫘

Sallow's True Colors

Alternative Uniforms ft. Sebastian Sallow's Closet showcase

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian fluff

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thebarneschronicles · 2 months ago

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Nine Lives

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes drives you insane—in every possible way. The bickering, the reckless plans, the way he smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. But when a mission goes sideways, leaving you both bloodied and too close for comfort, the tension between you ignites into something impossible to ignore.

You can keep pretending. Keep fighting him. But Bucky isn’t one to back down—especially when he knows you don’t really want him to.

Trigger Warnings: Bullet wounds, unprotect sex (wrap it before you tap it!), p in v, dirty talk, BUCKY BARNES (he needs his own warning)

Author’s Note: I had been tinkering with a few scenes in this and the Thunderbolts trailer made me finish it. Hope you like it! B x

-- Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of you.

Whether it was because he got on your last nerve or because you were desperately, irrevocably, undeniably in love with him—either way, he’d be the reason your heart stopped beating.

And honestly? It might happen in the next five minutes. Because God help you, the man was insufferable.

The room smelled like burnt coffee and bad decisions.

Sam stood at the front, gesturing at a holographic map as he laid out the mission plan, his voice steady and patient—too patient, the way a parent speaks when they know their kids are about to cause problems.

You were paying attention. You really were. But out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky leaning against the wall, arms crossed– and looking bored out of his mind.

Every once in a while, he flicked his gaze to you, not saying anything. Just watching.

And you knew that look. That I’m about to do something reckless and you’re going to yell at me for it look.

You gritted your teeth.

“—we’ll go in through the east entrance,” Sam continued, pointing at the building layout. “Stealth is key. No unnecessary attention.”

Bucky made a quiet sound. It wasn’t quite a scoff, but it was close enough.

Sam’s jaw flexed. “Got something to add, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged, like the whole thing was barely worth his effort. “I just think you’re overcomplicating it.”

Your brows shot up. Oh, here we go.

Sam closed his eyes, visibly counting to ten. “What part is complicated?”

Bucky shifted, pushing off the wall. “The part where we’re tiptoeing around like we’re on a damn field trip. We go in, take out the threats, get what we need. Done.”

You turned in your chair, slowly. “Take out the threats?”

Bucky smirked. “What?”

“What?” you repeated, voice rising. “You mean brute force? Like some kind of rabid raccoon?”

Sam sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

Bucky grinned, which somehow made it worse. “I’d say more wolf, but sure.”

Your grip tightened on the edge of the table. “Barnes, if you go off-script, I swear to God—”

“Relax, doll,” he said, casual as anything. “I’ll mostly follow the plan.”

Your eye twitched. “Mostly?”

Sam exhaled sharply, muttering to himself. “I should start charging overtime for this.”

Bucky wasn’t done, though—he turned that damn smirk back on you. “You do love bossing me around, don’t you?”

And that? That was the last straw.

Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood, planting your hands on your hips. “We are sticking to the plan, Barnes. No improvising. No wandering off. No turning this into some solo hero death mission.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling through gritted teeth as you fought for patience you absolutely did not have. “Why is your solution to everything brute force? Sam has a plan. A good plan. A plan that does not involve you punching your way through every obstacle.”

Bucky folded his arms across his broad chest, looking completely unfazed. If anything, he seemed amused. “First of all, rude. Second of all, my way works.”

“You mean it works when it doesn’t get us killed?” you shot back, voice rising. “Which, by the way, is not a guarantee.”

His mouth twitched like he was trying not to grin. “C’mon, doll, you’re overreacting.”

And there it was. That goddamn nickname.

You felt it like a spark in your bloodstream, a rush of heat you refused to acknowledge. Instead, you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly got stuck. “Don’t ‘doll’ me, Barnes. I’m serious. We are sticking to the plan.”

“I am sticking to the plan,” he said, far too casually. “I’m just… modifying it.”

Your jaw dropped. “Modifying it?”

“Enhancing.”

“You mean ignoring it?”

He shrugged and you had never wanted to strangle and kiss someone in equal measure more in your life.

God, this man was going to be the death of you.

You took a slow, deep breath, curling your fingers into fists at your sides. “Bucky. No modifications. No enhancements. No Barnes-ifying the plan.”

He tilted his head, looking irritatingly pleased with himself. “Barnes-ifying? Huh. I kinda like that.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Of course you do.”

Sam, who had been observing this entire exchange with the long-suffering patience of a saint, let out a loud sigh. “Are you two done? Or should we clear the room so you can work out all that tension?”

Your head snapped toward him. “There is no tension.”

Bucky, the absolute menace that he was, had the audacity to murmur, “Oh, there’s tension.”

Your entire body went rigid. Your face felt hot. You whirled back to him, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “I will kill you.”

His lips twitched. “I’d love to see you try, doll.”

You weren’t sure what infuriated you more—the way he said it— doll —like it was his own private joke, or the fact that you liked it. Loved it, even. That it sent a pulse of something traitorous through you, something that made you want to either punch him or grab him by the collar and—

No. Focus.

You squared your shoulders, planting your hands on your hips. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Barnes. You’re going to follow the plan. No making things up as you go along. Got it?”

His blue eyes glinted with something unreadable. “And what if I don’t?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then I’ll personally make sure you regret it.”

Bucky grinned, slow and wicked. “Kinda looking forward to that.”

Your breath hitched. Your brain short-circuited. You opened your mouth, then shut it again, because there was absolutely nothing appropriate to say to that.

Oh. Oh, that son of a—

Bucky chuckled, clearly enjoying the way he’d just rendered you speechless. Then he leaned in just slightly, voice dropping to something low and smug.

“Face it, doll,” he murmured. “You’d miss me if I was gone.”

You scoffed, even as your stomach flipped. “I’d miss arguing with you. That’s it.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The knowing look on his face made you want to smack it off. But more than that, it made you want to—

Nope. Not going there.

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel. “I’m done. Sam, let’s go before I change my mind and let him get himself killed.”

Sam snorted, giving Bucky a pointed look. “See what you did? Now you’ve pissed her off.”

Bucky only smirked, watching you walk away. “Nah,” he said, mostly to himself. “She likes it.”

—

You didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

And do you know why? Because you knew—knew—he wasn’t lying.

Bucky Barnes didn’t say things he didn’t mean. He wasn’t the type to play games with words, wasn’t the type to tease just for the hell of it. If he said there was tension, if he said you’d miss him, then he meant it. He knew.

He knew before you did.

And that was the worst part.

You had no idea when your constant bickering turned into something else, something deeper, something dangerous. One day, you thought you hated him—the next, you realized you couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.

It had terrified you.

So you fought.

You fought harder, argued louder, refused to let him see just how deeply he had burrowed into you. You clashed over the stupidest things—his reckless plans, his stubbornness, the way he called you doll like it was a secret between you. Because if you didn’t fight, if you let the walls slip for even a second, you weren’t sure what would happen.

And it infuriated you.

How dare he?

How dare he make himself at home in a corner of your heart you didn’t even know existed? How dare he take up permanent residence there, until that tiny space expanded into the whole damn thing?

How dare he make you want him when you were supposed to be angry at him?

How. Dare. He.

The memory took over before you could stop it…

It had been a disaster from the start.

The mission was supposed to be a simple recon—go in, get intel, get out. No unnecessary engagement. No close calls. No getting shot.

But Bucky Barnes? He didn’t believe in simple.

You were fuming as you dragged him into the safe house, your grip tight on his arm, ignoring the way his blood seeped through your gloves. He was bleeding all over the place, but of course, he still had the audacity to smirk at you.

“You’re manhandling me, doll.” His voice was rough, teasing. “If you wanted to get handsy, you could’ve just asked.”

You pushed him down onto the rickety cot in the corner, none too gently. “I swear to God, Barnes, if you don’t shut up, I will make your injuries worse.”

Bucky groaned dramatically as he flopped back, far too casual for someone who had just taken a bullet to the shoulder. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—should I be nice to the guy who just got himself shot?” You tore open the med kit, grabbing a pair of scissors and snipping at the sleeve of his tactical suit.

Bucky’s smirk vanished. “Hey, whoa—this is a perfectly good jacket.”

“You’ve bled through half of it, Bucky!” You glared at him, slicing the fabric open with zero hesitation.

Bucky scowled. “Still wearable.”

“Still ruined.”

“You’re ruining it more.”

“Oh my God—do you wanna keep arguing, or do you want me to keep you from bleeding out you reckless, metal-armed asshole?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, because of course he did, the sound painfully casual. “Little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Your hands shook as you tore open the med kit, fingers fumbling over the supplies. “Shut up.”

“Oh, come on, doll, it’s just a—”

“Don’t you dare say ‘scratch.’”

Bucky sighed, dropping his head back onto the cot. “I’m not bleeding out.”

“You got shot, you dick,” you snapped, peeling the fabric away to get a better look at the wound. Through and through, just above his bicep. A clean hit, but it would scar if you didn’t take care of it properly.

Bucky peered at the wound like it was barely an inconvenience. “It is just a scratch.”

Your eye twitched. You gritted your teeth, pressing an antiseptic wipe to the wound with zero mercy.

Bucky hissed, body tensing as he glared at you. “Jesus—are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, now you feel pain?” You didn’t let up, pressing a little harder just for good measure. “You didn’t seem too concerned when you ran into a hail of gunfire like a rabid golden retriever with a death wish.”

Bucky scoffed. “Golden retriever?”

“You just charged in, Bucky! What part of ‘stealth mission’ do you not understand?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I had to.”

“No, you didn’t!” You grabbed a fresh gauze pad, pressing it against the wound. “Sam and I were handling it just fine before you decided to be stupidly heroic.”

“Doll, you were cornered,” Bucky argued.

“No, I was waiting for backup.”

Bucky gave you a pointed look. “You were outnumbered and had a jammed weapon.”

You locked your jaw. Because okay, maybe that was true.

But he didn’t have to jump in front of a bullet for you.

You cleared your throat, trying to sound unimpressed. “I was fine.”

“You were two seconds away from getting shot.”

“I know, Bucky!” You slammed the antiseptic wipe against his skin, not caring when he hissed. “But you didn’t have to—you didn’t—you— I told you not to do it!” you cried out. “But no, you just had to go full Terminator and jump in front of a goddamn bullet for me—”

You stopped.

Because suddenly, your throat was too tight, and your breath was coming too fast, and you hated that the panic was winning, that it was spilling over.

You weren’t just mad.

You were terrified.

Bucky blinked at you, actually looking concerned now, which only pissed you off more.

“Doll—”

“You think you’re indestructible, don’t you?” You threw the used gauze aside, grabbing another one, your hands shaking as you pressed it to the wound. “Just because you have the serum, you think you can—can take all these stupid risks—”

Bucky sighed, clearly exasperated. “I heal faster than you do, sweetheart. It’s not that deep.”

Something inside you snapped.

“Oh, fuck you, Bucky!”

His eyebrows shot up at that.

“You think the serum makes you invincible?” you seethed, eyes burning. “Is that why you keep throwing yourself into danger? Why you never hesitate before taking a hit? Why you jump in front of bullets like it’s your damn job?”

Bucky opened his mouth, but you weren’t done.

“Guess what, Barnes? The serum doesn’t make you immortal! One day, your dumbass luck is going to run out! And what then?”

Bucky stilled, blue eyes searching yours.

But you were unraveling too fast to stop now.

“I swear to God, Bucky, I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep—” You sucked in a shaky breath, voice cracking. “I can’t—I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

Something changed in Bucky’s face. The teasing, the smirking—it all vanished.

You didn’t want to see whatever was in his eyes.

You dropped your gaze, fingers moving on autopilot, taping the bandage down over his shoulder. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, but you pretended not to notice.

You felt him watching you.

For the first time since the mission, Bucky was quiet.

The weight of it pressed against your chest.

You swallowed hard, clearing your throat. “Just—just try not to die next time, okay?”

Bucky let out a slow breath, something almost amused slipping into his voice. “Not really my style, doll.”

You snapped your head up, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yeah, I noticed. You’ve got a real stubborn track record of coming back from the brink of death.”

Bucky grinned, slow and lazy, like he couldn’t help himself. “What can I say? I’m persistent.”

Your jaw tensed.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t want to be the one watching you zero out your nine lives.”

The smirk disappeared.

A flicker of something serious passed through his eyes—so fast you almost missed it.

For a second, you thought he was going to say something that would change everything.

But then, as quickly as it came, he shoved it away.

He exhaled a soft chuckle instead, shaking his head. “You worry too much.”

You clenched your jaw, standing abruptly. “And you don’t worry enough.”

Bucky watched you, his expression unreadable.

You grabbed the med kit and turned away, before he could see just how badly your hands were still shaking.

Because the truth was—

You weren’t sure what scared you more.

The fact that Bucky Barnes kept coming back from the brink of death—

Or the fact that, one day, he might not.

–

You exhaled sharply, shoving the memory aside.

No. Not thinking about that.

You couldn’t.

Because if you let yourself sit with it for too long—

If you let yourself acknowledge how much he meant to you—

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to breathe through it.

Bucky must have sensed the shift in you, because as you stalked ahead, fuming, he was suddenly there—keeping pace beside you, his presence entirely too much. Too close, too solid, too him.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured. “That’s never a good sign.”

“Maybe I just ran out of things to say,” you snapped, not looking at him.

He made a low sound, somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. “That’ll be the day.”

You whirled on him before you could stop yourself, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Do you enjoy driving me insane, Barnes? Is it, like, a hobby for you?”

His lips twitched, that damn smirk already forming. “I mean… yeah. Kinda.”

You let out a frustrated noise, turning on your heel, ready to put as much distance between you and that insufferable smirk as possible. But before you could take two steps, his fingers curled around your wrist—gentle, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

The warmth of his skin against yours sent a jolt through you. His grip wasn’t rough, wasn’t forceful, but it was steady, intentional. And for a split second, you couldn’t breathe.

When you looked up, his blue eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable, intense.

“I’m not trying to drive you insane,” he said, his voice softer now, but laced with something heavier, something that made your chest feel tight. “I’m just trying to figure out why you won’t admit it.”

You swallowed, pulse hammering. “Admit what?”

Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying you like he was searching for something, peeling back layers you weren’t ready to let him see. His gaze dragged over your face, lingering—too long—on your lips before flicking back up.

Your breath hitched.

He was going to say something else. You knew it. Could feel it. But whatever he saw in your expression made him change his mind at the last second. His features shifted, the quiet determination giving way to something smug, teasing. A deflection.

“That it’s a good plan.”

Your pulse stuttered.

This wasn’t what he wanted to say. Not even close.

But he was giving you an out. Letting you pretend, letting himself pretend, like this was still just another argument. Another round of your never-ending bickering instead of… whatever the hell this was becoming.

And that? That scared you more than anything.

“It’s not,” you shot back, seizing the escape he’d handed you. You took a step back, yanking your wrist free of his grasp. “It’s stupid. It’s reckless, and it’s going to get one or all of us hurt if we do it.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed, his smirk faltering for the first time. His eyes darkened, something unreadable flickering in them before he asked, voice quieter, but rougher—”Why do you never take my side?”

The question hit like a sucker punch.

It knocked the breath from your lungs, left you reeling in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I—” The words caught in your throat.

He wasn’t teasing now. Wasn’t throwing out some cocky remark just to get under your skin. This was something real, something raw, and it left you woozy.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Second time I’ve got you speechless today, huh? Must be a new record.”

His voice was light, teasing again, but the look in his eyes said something else entirely.

Then, before you could recover, before you could shove something sharp and defensive between you, he turned and walked ahead—leaving you standing there, heart racing, breath unsteady.

Completely, utterly furious at him.

And even more furious at yourself.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you forced yourself to breathe. In. Out. Don’t let him get to you.

Except he had. He always did. And the worst part? He knew it.

You glared at the back of his head as he walked ahead like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just thrown you completely off balance and left you scrambling for solid ground.

Why do you never take my side?

You hated that the question still echoed in your head. That it stung in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

You stormed after him, your boots crunching against the pavement. “Barnes, we’re not done talking about this.”

He didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around. “Seemed pretty done to me.”

Your jaw clenched. “God, you are infuriating.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” He threw a glance over his shoulder, his smirk still in place, but his eyes? His eyes were still sharp, still waiting.

You caught up to him in two quick strides, grabbing his arm to yank him to a stop. “Don’t walk away from me.”

Bucky arched a brow, glancing down at where your fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket. “Thought you couldn’t stand being near me, doll.”

You ignored the way your stomach flipped at the nickname. Ignored the way your traitorous hand lingered for a second before you let go.

“That plan of yours?” You crossed your arms, tilting your chin up. “It’s reckless. And you know it.”

His smirk faded, just slightly. “And what if reckless is the only option?”

“That’s bullshit, and you know that too.”

Bucky let out a slow exhale, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You think I’m some idiot who just punches his way through problems—”

“I know you are,” you shot back.

He glared at you, jaw ticking. “But maybe—just maybe—I actually know what I’m doing this time.”

You opened your mouth, ready to argue, but something in his expression stopped you.

There was no smugness, no teasing. Just raw frustration, something worn down underneath.

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast, the words dying on your tongue.

“Right,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “Should’ve known better than to expect you to trust me.”

The words weren’t loud. He wasn’t even looking at you when he said them. But they landed like a slap.

Your breath caught. “That’s not—”

“Forget it.”

—

Shockingly, Bucky had followed Sam’s plan.

And—even more shockingly—it had gone wrong.

In the end, brute force had been the only way to get all three of you out alive.

You weren’t sure when the dust had settled, when the ringing in your ears had finally faded enough for you to hear your own breathing again. But when your vision cleared, Bucky was still standing.

Standing over a pile of bodies, bloodied and exhausted, his chest heaving with exertion.

There was a split in his lip, a gash across his forehead, and a bullet graze along his ribs, the fabric of his tactical suit dark with blood.

And you hated it.

You hated how your stomach twisted at the sight of him hurt. Hated the way your fingers curled into fists at your sides to stop yourself from running to him, from touching him, from grabbing his face and checking.

Most of all, you hated that you had doubted him.

Bucky Barnes had a century of combat experience. He had spent his entire life surviving fights he shouldn’t have walked away from, and still, you had dismissed him. Still, you had refused to listen.

And now? Now all of you were bleeding. All of you were shaken.

But the worst part—the part that made your throat tighten and your breath shudder—was that Bucky wasn’t even gloating.

No smirk. No I told you so.

Just silence. Just his sharp, assessing gaze, scanning the aftermath like he was still bracing for another fight.

By the time Torres had you all back on the plane, you were shaking.

The adrenaline should have worn off by now, but the weight in your chest only grew heavier. You knew—you knew—Bucky would heal faster than you or Sam. Logically, you understood that.

But logic wasn’t stopping the tightness in your throat when your eyes landed on the bruising around his temple.

It wasn’t stopping the way your fingers trembled as you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down in front of him, against every warning screaming in your head.

Bucky exhaled slowly, tilting his head back against the seat. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” you shot back, voice sharper than intended.

“So are you.”

You ignored that. “Just—hold still.”

For once, he didn’t argue. But when you reached for him, when your fingers ghosted over his skin, his gaze flickered—just for a second—to your hands.

He noticed.

Noticed the tremor in your fingers, the way they weren’t steady.

His brows drew together, just slightly. He didn’t say anything, but you felt his stare, felt the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.

Your breath hitched. You curled your fingers tighter around the antiseptic wipe, focusing too hard on dabbing at the cut on his forehead.

When he flinched, you huffed. “Big bad super soldier can take on twenty guys at once but can’t handle a little stinging?”

His lips twitched, but the teasing was half-hearted. “Not my fault you’re rough.”

You shot him a look. “I wonder why.”

His jaw flexed. “You do like making things difficult.”

“Oh, I make things difficult?” You shook your head, pressing a little too firmly as you cleaned the wound. “I don’t remember me running in headfirst with zero regard for a plan.”

Bucky scoffed. “Right, because your plan went so well.”

You froze, fingers stilling against his skin.

His voice hadn’t been sharp, but the words still landed heavy in your chest.

“You didn’t have to follow it,” you murmured.

Bucky let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Well. I did.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and weighted.

You forced yourself to move again, forced yourself to focus on the cut rather than the way his eyes lingered.

Your throat was dry when you spoke. “You were right.”

His expression didn’t change, but you felt the shift in the air.

“We should have done it your way,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s fingers curled over the edge of the seat. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, but you knew he was watching you.

Finally, he exhaled, his voice quiet. “Didn’t do us much good, did it?”

You pressed your lips together. “Would’ve gone a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in.”

His eyes flickered. His jaw worked, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the energy for it.

“You don’t have to say that,” he murmured.

“I do.” Your voice wavered, but you swallowed hard, pushing through it. “Because I was wrong.”

Bucky was still. Unreadable.

Then, after a beat, his voice dropped lower. “That an apology?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real fire behind it. “Don’t push your luck, Barnes.”

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

But his eyes? His eyes told a different story.

—

The hum of the jet was steady beneath you, the vibrations deep in your bones, but it did nothing to ground you. The cabin lights were low, throwing long shadows across the metal walls. Sam was already passed out in the back, his breathing even, the tension from the mission finally easing from his shoulders.

You should be doing the same. You should be closing your eyes, letting exhaustion take over, shutting out the memory of the chaos you’d just escaped from.

But you couldn’t.

Because Bucky was still watching you.

He sat across from you, silent and unreadable, his blue eyes darker in the dim light. He hadn’t spoken since you finished patching him up, but he hadn’t stopped looking, either.

It wasn’t his usual sharp-edged irritation or teasing smirk. No playful bickering, no cocky remarks about how he’d been right. Just this.

Something softer. Something heavier.

Something you weren’t ready for.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges.

You shook your head, fingers curling into your palms. “I’m fine.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, like he didn’t believe you. “Yeah? You don’t look fine.”

You hated that he could see it. The tremor in your fingers, the tension in your shoulders, the way you were still breathing too fast, like your body hadn’t realized the fight was over.

You hated that he noticed. That he cared enough to notice.

And then—because you were tired, because you were furious, because he had almost died and you were still trying to claw your way back from the sheer panic of it—you snapped.

“You could have died, Bucky.” Your voice was sharper than you meant, thick with something you didn’t want to name.

His brow twitched, but his expression didn’t change. His voice stayed infuriatingly even. “Yeah. That’s kinda what happens when people shoot at you.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing out there?”

“That’s not—” You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

The question hung between you, thick with unspoken things.

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t blink, just watched you—his gaze steady, patient, like he was giving you the space to say it.

And God, you wanted to.

But the words sat like stones in your throat, impossible to force out. You clenched your jaw, tried to shove them back down, but they wouldn’t go away.

Because the truth was, you weren’t just shaken by the mission.

You were shaken by the way seeing him bleeding had made your stomach drop, by the way his pained groans had made your hands shake, by the way you had wanted—needed—to run to him, to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

You were terrified.

Because this wasn’t just anger or frustration or a heated argument in the middle of a mission.

This was Bucky.

And you couldn’t lose him.

So instead of answering, instead of trying to put words to the panic still rattling inside you, you did the only thing you could do.

You reached for him.

It wasn’t sharp or defiant, wasn’t out of frustration or anger.

You just—needed to touch him.

Your fingers brushed over his wrist, barely there, hesitant. A point of contact. Something to anchor you.

Bucky stilled.

For a second, he just stared at your hand, at the way your fingers curled against his skin like you weren’t even sure if you had permission to hold on.

Then, slowly, he turned his wrist under your palm, letting your fingers slide over his pulse point. His skin was warm, his pulse steady. Alive. Here.

Your throat went tight.

Bucky’s voice was quieter this time. Rougher. “You gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

You swallowed hard, but you didn’t let go.

Your thumb ghosted over his pulse, barely a whisper of touch, but it still wasn’t enough.

You didn’t know what you needed, what you were searching for beneath your fingertips, but the slow, steady thrum of his heartbeat wasn’t easing the raw ache in your chest.

Your eyes flickered around the cabin.

Sam was still dead to the world, Torres nowhere in sight. The only two people awake on this jet were you and Bucky.

Something inside you snapped.

One second, you were gripping his wrist, tethering yourself to him like that alone would make this feeling go away. The next, you were moving before you could stop yourself—sliding out of your seat, crawling into his lap, wrapping yourself around him like holding on tighter would somehow keep him safe, keep him yours.

Bucky made a sound—something low, something confused—but his hands came up anyway, large and warm and steady as they settled on your hips, instinctive.

His breath hitched, and you felt it against your temple, the subtle shudder of his inhale.

You buried yourself closer, curling into his chest, fingers winding into the hair at the nape of his neck. His scent was everywhere—gunpowder and metal and something distinctly him—and you could have drowned in it.

“If you ever tell anyone I did this,” you muttered, voice muffled against his neck, “I will find ways to kill you.”

There was no bite to it. No real threat.

Just you—raw and exposed in a way you didn’t know how to take back.

Bucky let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, but he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t shove you off like he should have.

Instead, his arms shifted, wrapping around you fully, pressing you into him like this was what he had been waiting for, like this was something he had been needing just as badly.

Like he wanted to.

His metal fingers flexed at your waist, pressing against the fabric of your suit, a steadying grip. His other hand flattened against your back, tracing over the curve of your spine as if he was committing the shape of you to memory.

His touch burned.

His warmth was everywhere.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your fingers sliding from his hair to his cheek, brushing over the stubble there, the still-healing cut on his temple. And then—before you could stop yourself—you were tilting his face toward yours.

For the first time since the mission, since the gunfire, since you watched the blood dripping down his temple and felt your entire world tilt on its axis—you met his eyes head-on.

Bucky swallowed.

His gaze dropped—just for a second—to your lips.

It was enough.

Your resolve snapped like a frayed wire.

And before you could second-guess yourself, before you could remind yourself that this was Bucky, before you could convince yourself that you didn’t love him like this—

You kissed him.

It was desperate, messy—nothing like the slow, sweet build-up you had imagined in the deepest corners of your mind.

Your lips crashed against his, your hands fisting in his suit, pulling yourself closer, closer, closer, needing more, needing everything.

Bucky froze.

Didn’t move when your lips parted against his, when your tongue flicked against his bottom lip, when your teeth caught the cut there, tasting blood.

Didn’t react when you kissed him again, soft and searching, when your nose brushed against his, when you sighed against his mouth, the sound fragile and aching.

Didn’t kiss you back.

The realization hit slow, creeping in at the edges of your desperation, sinking its claws into your chest.

He wasn’t—

Oh, God.

The sting of rejection burned hotter than the wounds littering your body.

You tried to breathe, tried to steady yourself, but your lungs felt too tight, your hands shaking as you forced yourself to pull back, to put distance between you before you shattered entirely.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a shaky breath washing over his lips. Your throat was tight, your vision blurring at the edges. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Your voice broke.

Bucky was still silent.

And that was somehow worse.

It took a second to register the weight of what you’d done, to catch up to you.

You had kissed him.

You had kissed him and he hadn’t—

Your stomach plummeted.

“I’m—” Your breath hitched, panic clawing at your ribs. “I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

You tried to untangle yourself, tried to scramble out of his lap, to preserve whatever dignity you had left, to put distance between you before you completely fell apart in front of him—

But then—

God.

Then his hands tightened on your hips.

Hard.

Before you could even get further, Bucky dragged you back against him, fingers digging into your skin, like he wasn’t about to let you go. He maneuvered you until your legs were astride his hips, your arms around his neck, your chest pressed to his.

Your breath stilled, eyes wide, heart hammering against your ribs.

His expression had changed.

The shock, the hesitation—it was gone.

In its place was something darker.

Something heated and unrelenting.

Something like want.

Bucky’s breathing was uneven, his lips parted, his pupils blown wide as his gaze flickered between your eyes, your mouth, back up.

Then—

Then his fingers traced up your spine, slow and deliberate, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His metal hand trailed over your ribs, up your arm, curling at the back of your neck, tipping your face toward his.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Doll,” he rasped, voice wrecked and low. “Can you do that again?”

Your stomach flipped.

“I—” You swallowed, your pulse hammering against his fingertips. “You didn’t—”

“I froze,” he cut in, jaw tight. “I won’t now.”

Oh.

Your lips parted, heart stumbling over itself.

Bucky let out a breath, something between a laugh and a groan, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your hips flexed, strong and sure, and for a split second, all he did was look at you.

Like you were something he didn’t know how to handle.

Like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to devour you or worship you.

Then—slower this time, more sure—he leaned in.

And kissed you.

You had been right.

Bucky Barnes would be your undoing.

He’d kill you with the way he kissed, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to ruin you, like he wanted to take you apart with nothing but the sweep of his tongue and the heat of his mouth.

You felt it—every glide of his tongue against yours, every careful press of his lips, every sharp inhale between kisses—like a spark lighting up your spine, sinking deep, settling between your legs with a heat so intense you could barely breathe through it.

You shook on top of him, the way he touched you sending shockwaves through every nerve ending in your body. His hands were everywhere—tight, possessive squeezes against your hips, reverent drags of his fingers down your back and thighs, gripping you like he never wanted to let go.

A whimper escaped you, completely unbidden, and Bucky groaned, a deep, wrecked sound that vibrated against your mouth.

Then, suddenly, his lips left yours.

You gasped at the loss—until you felt him move.

Felt the warm brush of his breath against your throat, felt his nose skim along the sensitive skin there before his mouth followed.

“Bucky—” His name left you in a sharp breath as he kissed down your neck, slow, teasing, his lips dragging over every inch of exposed skin he could reach.

The problem was—there wasn’t enough.

Your suit covered too much, kept him from truly touching you, and it was driving you out of your mind.

You arched into him, restless, desperate. “Take it off,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Bucky stilled, his lips pausing against your collarbone.

His hands tightened on your hips, but he didn’t move. Didn’t continue.

“Take it off,” you begged, fingers digging into the fabric of his suit, tracing over the zippers, tugging uselessly at the buttons, trying to feel more. “Please, take it off.”

His breath was uneven, ragged. “Doll, there are people—”

“I don’t care.” You tugged at his collar, leaning in, pressing another desperate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “They won’t see.”

Bucky’s hands flexed against your waist, like he was warring with himself.

You kissed him again, lips parting over his, trying to convince him, trying to make him understand, to feel just how badly you needed this, needed him.

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing to yours, his chest rising and falling unevenly beneath you.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Please, before you change your mind—I need this. I need you.”

That did it.

Something snapped in him.

The hesitation vanished.

And then, suddenly, you were weightless.

Before you could even process what was happening, Bucky was standing, lifting you effortlessly, your legs tightening around his waist as he carried you toward the back of the jet, moving with a singular, determined focus that made your breath catch.

Your back hit the cool metal wall of the jet, the impact sending a shiver down your spine, but you barely had time to react before Bucky was kissing you again—hot, rough, devouring.

You gasped against his lips, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life.

His hands roamed down your back, over your thighs, squeezing, gripping—and then, finally, finally, he found the zipper of your suit.

“I’m not changing my mind,” he murmured, his voice thick, edged with something raw that made you shiver. His fingers curled around the fabric, tugging just enough for you to feel the weight of his words. “And you’re not changing yours.”

You nodded without thinking, without hesitation, without fear.

There was a faint awareness of the reality around you—the steady hum of the jet beneath you, the wall of gear shielding you from the others, the knowledge that Sam and Torres were mere feet away. The fact that you were both bloodied and bruised from the mission, that maybe this wasn’t the time, wasn’t the place.

But then Bucky moved, and all of that faded.

The zipper came down in a slow, deliberate slide, the rasp of it against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His hands worked quickly, efficiently, but gentle, pushing the suit down your arms until you could shake it off completely. The moment it was gone, he pulled your arms around his shoulders, guiding them to hold onto him, like he needed you to keep him close.

“Hold on to me,” he murmured, voice quieter now, almost reverent, before dropping to his knees.

Your breath caught, your pulse hammering as his hands gripped your hips, firm and unshakable, guiding the rest of your suit down your legs. His head dipped, his lips grazing the fresh bruise blooming along your hip. He kissed it once, then again—soft, lingering. Worshipping.

You swallowed hard, your fingers threading into his hair as he nuzzled along your thigh, your knee, before rising back to his full height.

“Not getting these off,” he muttered, his fingers ghosting over your soaked panties. You’d be ashamed if it weren’t for the way his lips parted, like he was desperate to get back on his knees, get his mouth on you, There was also something else. The look on his face - regret, you thought - like he wanted to take his time with you, but was disappointed he couldn’t.

His hands moved up your body, skimming over your waist, tracing along your ribs. You shivered at the sensation of warm and cold, flesh and metal. His eyes darkened at the sight of you trembling under his touch.

“We have to be quick.”

You nodded, obedient, but there was something clawing at your chest, something making your breath catch, making your hands shake as you reached for his belt, undoing it with frantic fingers.

“This—” You took a breath, sliding the zipper down, pushing his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already slick with pre-cum. You ached at the sight of him. Ached to drop to your knees and taste him.

Instead, you swallowed hard and met his eyes. “This isn’t how I imagined doing this with you.”

Bucky let out a low, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. “Me either.” His voice was rough, wrecked, breaking apart at the seams. His lips brushed your ear as he groaned, deep and ragged, when you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slow, teasing. “Fuck, sweetheart—”

A shudder rolled through him, his forehead pressing to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“But I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, voice thick with something dangerous, something devoted. “I promise.”

His arms wrapped around you again, lifting you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your hips rolling forward to grind against him.

“Bucky—”

“You want this?” he asked, pressing you back against the cool metal wall, the contrast making you gasp. His mouth was everywhere—dragging down your jaw, across the swell of your breast, open-mouthed and hungry.

“I do. I—”

The words faltered on your tongue.

Your heart was hammering, your chest was aching. This was reckless. This was insane.

This was everything.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing his with every ragged breath. “I want you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “All of you.” Your fingers twisted into his hair, tugging just enough for him to feel it. “Please.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “You have me.”

His words were iron, unbreakable, true.

Something cracked inside you.

And then—there was no more hesitation.

His lips crashed into yours again, raw and consuming, leaving no space between you, no air, no room for anything but him. His free hand slid down, tugging at your panties, dragging them to the side. Your own hand moved between you, wrapping around his cock, guiding him to where you needed him.

“Jesus, doll—”

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t careful.

It was one full thrust, his cock pressing inside you inch by inch, filling you completely, stretching you to the edge of pain. Your nails bit into his shoulders, your head falling back against the wall as a gasp tore from your throat.

You felt full. Too full.

Your legs shook around him, your walls clenching tight around his cock, the overwhelming stretch making your eyes slam shut, your mouth parting on a silent moan.

Bucky groaned, deep and wrecked, his forehead pressing to your temple. His body was shaking too, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps against your skin.

“Fuck,” he ground out, metal hand locking around your thigh, keeping you open for him. His other hand tangled in your hair, his grip tight, desperate. “Fuck, you feel—Jesus, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, your arms trembling as you clung to him. “I can’t believe you’re inside me,” you whispered, voice barely there, overwhelmed and ruined. “Oh my god, Bucky—”

He snapped his hips forward, and your world split apart.

The pleasure was sharp, blinding, a lightning strike surging through your veins. Your body clenched around him, gripping him so tight he groaned against your neck, his rhythm faltering for a beat. His hands tightened on your hips, metal and flesh both possessive, both desperate to hold on.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he choked out, voice strangled, roughened with something close to reverence. He thrust deep, his cock dragging against every nerve inside you, every sensitive place that made your stomach coil so tight you thought you might shatter.

“For you,” you confessed, arching into him, letting him feel it, letting him know. “All the time. Every time you look at me—”

Bucky snapped his hips forward, harder, deeper, tearing a cry from your lips.

“Shit,” he breathed, voice breaking, cracking at the edges. “Shit, shit—”

“You’re so deep,” you gasped, barely able to breathe. Your nails raked down his back, desperate, pleading, needing. “Bucky, I—I can’t—”

“I’ve got you, doll,” he groaned, pressing his mouth to yours, swallowing every sound you made as he ruined you completely.

Every thrust was a curse, every breath a kiss, and you were careening toward the edge so fast it was dizzying.

The pleasure ripped through you before you could warn him, before you could even process it. Your walls tightened, pulsing around his cock, body shaking so violently that he had to pin you to the wall with his hips, burying himself to the hilt, his hand cradling the back of your head, shielding you as you contorted in his grasp.

His mouth devoured your cries, catching every broken, pleading gasp as the orgasm tore you apart. It was an explosion that didn’t stop, that kept rolling through you, wave after wave.

You rocked against him, desperate for more, still chasing, still needing, barely hearing the way he rasped your name, telling you to slow down, telling you to look at him, warning you that he was—

“God, you’re heaven,” Bucky breathed against your ear, grinding deep inside of you, his voice wrecked, every syllable tinged with something broken, something beautiful. As you slowly came down, you could feel how close he was, how tightly he was holding on, trying to keep himself from falling over the edge. “I can feel you—fuck me, I should pull out.”

“No.”

It came out fast, urgent, a whisper laced with something dangerous. Your legs locked around his hips, keeping him trapped in your hold.

His entire body went rigid. His breathing stilled.

“Baby.”

Bucky’s voice was low, frayed at the edges, filled with disbelief. The word hung in the air between you, unspoken until now.

You froze.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t have given that away. Shouldn’t have let it slip, shouldn’t have handed him something so fragile, something you couldn’t take back.

But what was a drop to someone who was already drowning?

Bucky’s hands tightened on your hips, but he didn’t move. If he wanted to, he could have pulled you off of him without lifting a finger. You had always been painfully aware of how much stronger he was, how easily he could overpower you.

And yet, he stayed still, locked in your hold. Completely at your mercy.

You swallowed, your fingers shaking as they curled into his hair, pulling him closer, refusing to let him run.

“C’mon, doll,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours, stealing a kiss that felt like it was more for him than for you. “Let go.”

His hips rolled, his pelvis grinding against your clit, making you whimper. Your body was still trembling, still oversensitive, but fuck, if he kept going just a little longer—

“I want you to cum inside me,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, your nails digging into his skin.

Bucky froze.

The words echoed between you like a shot fired into the silence.

His hips stilled. His breath hitched. His hands trembled where they held you.

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying out, from begging him to move.

“Doll,” he rasped, warning in his tone, his forehead pressed to yours. He looked wrecked, as undone as you felt.

“Stop arguing with me,” you shot back, voice shaky, grinding against him, dragging your soaked, sensitive heat over him, pulling a moan from his throat so deep it made every hair on your body stand on end.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his grip on you bruising.

“I want this.” You tightened your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer, wrapping him in you, cocooning you both in the moment. “I’m begging you, Bucky. Please.”

“It’s—” He swallowed thickly, voice strangled.

“Irresponsible, yes, but what’s a little irresponsibility?” A breathless laugh escaped you, but your voice broke at the end, too raw to keep up the teasing. You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling deeply before forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m on the pill.”

His jaw clenched.

“I need this,” you whispered, the truth clawing up your throat before you could stop it. “I need you.” Your voice cracked, your breath hitched, emotion swelling too fast, too much. “You don’t get it, I—”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he softened.

Something in his eyes clicked, something changed, and suddenly, his arms were wrapping around you tighter, his hands cradling your face like you were precious, like you were fragile, like he had to hold you together before you broke apart completely.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing your temple, your cheek, your jaw. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

And then he moved.

His thrusts were slower, deeper, his lips brushing yours between each movement. His hands wandered, soothing, worshipping.

“Giving you exactly what you want, yeah?”

You nodded frantically, breath labored, losing yourself in the way he felt, the way he surrounded you, consumed you.

“Don’t pull out,” you begged, voice barely there, a whisper of devotion, of desperation.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, forehead pressed to yours. “I won’t, baby,” he promised, voice breaking. His pace picked up, hips rolling against yours, pushing deeper, harder, dragging against your oversensitive clit in a way that had you whimpering. “Gonna fill you up like you wanted.”

Your toes curled at the words, at the image, your walls fluttering around him.

“Oh, please don’t stop,” you gasped, rolling your hips, needing, aching.

Bucky groaned, his head dropping back as his rhythm faltered, as he snapped his hips harder, chasing the end, giving you what you wanted, giving you everything.

“Fill me up, baby,” you pleaded, your voice a broken, desperate thing. “Make me yours..”

And that—

That was what finally broke him.

Bucky snapped.

A curse tore from his throat, his grip on you bruising, unrelenting as his hips slammed into you, chasing the inevitable, giving you everything. His rhythm turned frantic, needy, his body demanding what you had just offered.

And you took it.

You craved it.

Your body tightened around him, coaxing him deeper, begging for more. Every thrust was an answer to a question neither of you had spoken aloud, a declaration in the language of skin and breath and longing.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he gritted out, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath hot against your mouth. His hand slid down between you, his metal fingers finding your clit and pressing, rubbing tight circles, dragging you back to the edge with him.

Your body shook, every muscle tensed, the pleasure sharpening into something unbearable, something deadly.

“Bucky—”

“I know, baby,” he groaned, his voice cracking at the edges, his own body trembling as he held himself back, as he waited for you. “Give it to me.”

You did.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs, blinding in its intensity. Your body locked around him, your hands clutching desperately at his shoulders as the pleasure ripped through you in violent, unrelenting waves.

And that was it. That was everything.

Bucky followed, slamming into you one last time before breaking, burying himself as deep as he could go, a shuddering groan torn from his chest as he spilled into you, filling you like he promised. You felt it as his warm cum Costas your walls, so much of it you weren’t sure there wasn’t some spilling out.

His body trembled, his arms locked tight around you, holding you close as he gave in, as he let go, as he let himself have this.

For a moment, there was silence.

Just the sound of your breathing, labored and uneven. The quiet, lingering shock of what you had just done.

Bucky’s forehead pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his suit.

Neither of you spoke.

Neither of you moved.

You stayed like that—wrapped around him, his cock still twitching inside of you, his arms cradling you like you might disappear if he let go.

You let your eyes drift shut, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against the back of his neck, the weight of him comforting, grounding, even as reality started creeping back in.

You should let go.

You should move.

You should say something.

But when Bucky finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to frame your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones—

The words died on your lips.

Because he was looking at you like you had just ruined him. Like you had just changed something fundamental inside of him.

Like you had just made him yours.

And you had.

Slowly,, Bucky eased his grip, his arms still wrapped around you, his hands still mapping the shape of you, like he needed to memorize every curve, every ridge, every place he’d touched.

His lips brushed your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw—soft, tender kisses that made your heart clench, made something deep inside you ache.

It felt too big.

Too much.

But you couldn’t stop touching him.

Your fingers traced the lines of his jaw, the stubble rough beneath your touch. You pushed damp hair out of his face, ran your knuckles down the slope of his nose, his cheekbone, memorizing him the way he was memorizing you.

A hand slid up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb tracing your cheek, his expression unreadable.

When he finally spoke, his eyes were soft, but serious.

“You meant it,” he murmured.

It wasn’t a question.

You swallowed, lips parting, breath hitching.

“Bucky—”

His other hand was still pressed to your lower stomach, like he could feel himself inside you, like he could brand this moment into your skin.

“I felt it,” he whispered, almost to himself. “The way you—” He exhaled sharply, like the words were too heavy to get out.

You closed your eyes, trying to give yourself some kind of reprieve from the enormity of it all.

“Don’t run from this.” His voice was so calm, but it cut through you like a knife. “Please, doll.”

Your throat tightened.

You weren’t sure if it was the aftershocks of pleasure or the overwhelming emotion of it all, but your body was still trembling—and Bucky felt every bit of it.

His arms tightened around you, securing you to him, anchoring you.

“I’m not running,” you whispered.

He pulled back just enough to search your face, like he didn’t quite believe you.

And maybe you didn’t quite believe yourself.

Because what came next?

What happened after this?

There was you before Bucky Barnes.

There was you after Bucky Barnes.

And they weren’t the same.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan

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princess-sallow · 2 years ago

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I love my Slytherin boys very much. 🥰💖

I also ship them together so I absolutely love how this turned out. It’s perfect. Thank you again for your beautiful work @giselsan 🥹

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian x mc #sebastian fluff #mc x sebastian sallow #ominis x mc x sebastian #ominis x sebastian #ominis x sebastian x mc #sebastian x mc x ominis #sebastian x ominis #sebastian x ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis fluff #sebinis #hogwarts legacy #ominis x oc

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brunchable · 6 months ago

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Don't Look at Me Like That [18+]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader. Summary: You get stuck in an awkward position in a very tight space and Bucky's dick decides it's a good time to get hard. Themes/Warning: Comedy Smut, forced proximity. Oral sex - Male Receiving. Guided Deep throating. A/N: Hah......to have your throat ruined by bucky ;_;

@classicrebound can you guess what inspired this? LOL

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky groaned as the door of the janitor’s closet clicked shut, trapping the two of you inside.

The Avengers’ compound was massive—thousands of square feet of pristine, state-of-the-art design, but you and Bucky had somehow found yourselves stuck in the one claustrophobic, cramped janitor’s closet with a broken door handle.

“Move your stupid foot,” you muttered, glaring up at him.

“I can’t move anywhere, doll. There’s no room,” he snapped back, looking like he was trying very hard not to elbow you in the face as he shifted.

He wasn’t lying. There was barely enough space for one person, let alone two. Your shoulders were pressed against shelves full of cleaning supplies, and your knees were almost touching the floor, awkwardly bent as you knelt in front of Bucky.

“Why didn’t you wait until I finished grabbing the damn broom?” he complained, glowering down at you.

“Because I needed it!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “You were taking forever, and— Look, I’m sorry, okay? Just… help me up.”

Bucky tried shifting again, but with the tight space and the way your body was jammed into the corner, it was impossible. “You’re wedged in there like a sardine. I’m gonna have to—”

“Just move!” you snapped, tugging at his belt for leverage.

The sudden force made him stumble forward. You yelped as his hips knocked into you, and you lost your balance, falling forward—right into the worst possible position imaginable.

“Whoa—! What the hell?” Bucky’s voice came out in a strangled yelp as you braced yourself on his thighs, your face now directly level with his crotch. You looked up at him, scowling.

“I swear, Barnes, if you don’t—”

But the words died on your lips when you met his gaze. His chest heaved with the effort of keeping his balance, and his hands hovered uncertainty in the air as if he didn’t know what to do with them. The tension in his face slowly turned into something else as he looked down at you.

You blinked up at him, your annoyance fading as his expression shifted. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the air change between you—growing thicker, heavier.

“Bucky…?” you asked, voice softening as you looked up at him, noticing his breathing had gone ragged.

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat working visibly.

“Doll,” he managed to croak out, his voice strained.

“What?” You frowned, looking at him in confusion.

“I—” He glanced down at you, his gaze darting to your lips before flicking back to your eyes. His nostrils flared, and he shifted awkwardly. “You… gotta stop looking at me like that.”

You furrowed your brow. “Like what?”

“Like—” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before looking down at you again, his cheeks flushed. “Like you’re about to… you know.”

Your eyes widened, and it took a second for his words to register.

“Wait… What?! I’m not—!” You pulled back slightly, trying to put distance between you, but it only made things worse.

Because that’s when you noticed it. The growing, unmistakable bulge in his jeans, right in front of your face.

“Oh my God, Bucky,” you gasped, your voice a mix of shock and disbelief. “Are you— Are you getting hard right now?!”

His face flushed crimson. “I— No! I mean— I don’t know! You’re the one kneeling in front of me like— like—”

“Like what, Barnes?” you demanded, eyes narrowing. “Like I’m about to— Oh my God!”

You threw your hands up in frustration, accidentally brushing against his thighs in the process. His breath hitched, and you pulled your hands back like you’d been burned.

“Stop it!”

“I’m trying!” he hissed back, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper. “You’re making it worse, dammit!”

“What do you mean I’m making it worse?” you snapped, staring up at him in disbelief. “You’re the one getting turned on in a janitor’s closet!”

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” he growled, his hands flexing at his sides. “You keep looking up at me like that, and I— I don’t know, okay? It just— happens!”

“Stop saying it happens!” you squeaked, your face heating up as you looked at the bulge right in front of you. “Just— make it go away!”

“I can’t!” Bucky barked, his eyes wild with frustration. “I’m not a damn magician!”

“Then just think of something!” you snapped, voice rising. “Think of— of— I don’t know, dead puppies or—”

“That’s not helping!” he yelled, his voice cracking in a way that would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the very real problem growing in front of you.

“Then stop thinking about me!” you shouted back, your voice a panicked whisper.

“You think I’m doing this on purpose?” His eyes narrowed, his gaze dark and dangerous. “I can’t stop it, okay? It’s a reflex!”

“Reflex?!” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “What kind of reflex?”

“The kind that happens when someone’s looking up at you like they’re about to—” He cut himself off with a groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “God, this is the worst.”

“I’m not looking at you like that!” you protested, shaking your head furiously. “I’m looking at you like you’re a goddamn idiot!”

“Well, your face is saying something else!” he shot back.

“What’s it saying?” you demanded.

“Like you’re about to— I don’t know—” He faltered, his eyes darting down to your lips and then back up. “Like you want to—”

“Oh my God, stop it!” You covered your face with your hands, utterly mortified. “Just— Stop getting turned on, okay?!”

“I’m not trying to!” he groaned, dropping his head back against the wall. “Christ, do you think I want to be stuck in a closet with a hard-on right now?”

“Then do something about it!” you yelled, glaring up at him.

“I can’t just tell it to go away!” he yelled back.

“Then tell yourself to go away!” you shouted.

“Where the hell am I gonna go, Y/N?!” he yelled back, throwing his hands up. “We’re stuck in a goddamn closet!”

The two of you fell silent, glaring at each other. Bucky was breathing hard, his chest heaving with every breath, and you were trying very hard not to look at the problem that was still very much in your line of sight.

“This is insane,” you finally muttered, shaking your head. “Just— take deep breaths or something. Think. . .Think of Steve in a Speedo!”

Bucky made a face. “Why would I think of Steve in a Speedo?”

“Because it’ll kill the mood!” you shot back. “Just do it!”

Bucky sighed heavily but nodded. He closed his eyes, muttering to himself as he took slow, deep breaths. “Steve… in a Speedo… Steve… in a Speedo…”

You waited, watching his face closely. After a few long moments, his shoulders relaxed slightly, and his breathing steadied. He opened one eye and glanced down at you.

“Better?” you asked cautiously.

“Yeah.” He let out a long, relieved breath. “Better.”

“Good.” You nodded. “Great. So, can we get out of here now?”

“I’ll try the door again,” he muttered, reaching for the handle. But when he moved, he shifted just slightly forward—and the bulge that was supposed to be gone brushed against your shoulder.

You froze.

Bucky’s eyes flew open.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you shrieked. “Bucky, stop it!”

“I can’t!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the tiny closet.

“Why can’t you just—”

“I don’t know! You’re the one who’s all— all down there, and—”

“Stop saying I’m down here like I’m doing something else!” you screamed back, face burning. “Just— I don’t know— stop thinking about my face!”

“I’m trying!” he yelled back. “But you keep looking up at me like—”

“Like what?!” you demanded. “Like I want to blow you or something?!”

“Yes!” he shouted, then slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in horror.

The closet fell silent.

You stared up at him, mouth hanging open in shock. “Bucky… did you just—”

“I didn’t mean—!” he spluttered, turning even redder. “I mean— I just— Oh God—”

“Oh my God, this is— This is the worst,” you whispered, covering your face with your hands again. “This is literally the worst.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, sounding utterly miserable. “It really is.”

The two of you sat there in stunned silence, the reality of the situation sinking in. Bucky was still very much hard, you were still very much kneeling, and neither of you could move an inch.

“…So, how long do you think it’s gonna take for this to… y’know… go away?” you asked hesitantly, still crouched awkwardly on your knees. You shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, but every slight movement made your face closer to the obvious problem in Bucky’s jeans.

“I don’t know, okay?” Bucky muttered, his voice dripping with frustration. “Just… don’t look at it.”

“Look at what?” you asked innocently.

“My… my—DICK.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second as if to gather his composure. “Just… stop looking at my dick!”

You blinked up at him, eyes wide with feigned confusion. “I’m not looking at anything.”

“Yes, you are!” Bucky hissed, gesturing at his crotch. “You’re staring right at it, doll. I can feel your eyes on me.”

You glanced at the bulge again and then back up to his flushed face.

“Oh, this?” you asked, pointing at it like it was a random spot on his jeans. “Sorry. Didn’t realise I was staring.”

“Y/N…” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

“What?” You shrugged, doing your best to keep a straight face. “It’s kind of hard to not notice, y’know?”

“Just—” Bucky exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose with his metal fingers. “Just stop. Stop looking at the dick. Stop talking about it. Just… stop it.”

“Fine, fine.” You nodded and turned your head away, doing your best to ignore his predicament. But after a few seconds of awkward silence, your eyes involuntarily drifted back.

And there it was—still very much… present.

“Y/N!” Bucky growled, his voice strained. “Stop looking at it!”

“I’m sorry!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up in a helpless gesture. “It’s just— it’s right there, and it’s not going away!”

“Well, you’re not helping by staring!” he snapped, his voice a mix of irritation and something else—something that sounded suspiciously like desperation.

“Okay, well, maybe…” You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered your options. This was already the most awkward situation you’d ever been in, but if it wasn’t going away…

“Maybe what?” Bucky demanded, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously. “Don’t even—”

“Maybe I should just…” You waved your hand in a vague motion, indicating the space in front of you. “Y’know… help or something?”

Bucky’s entire body went rigid.

“Help?” he repeated slowly, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, feeling a wicked smile tug at the corners of your lips. “Yeah… I mean, it’s not going away, right? So maybe if I just—”

“And what?!” Bucky interrupted, looking both horrified and intrigued. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“And maybe if I…” You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek suggestively, your eyes dropping down to the bulge again. You heard Bucky’s breath hitch, and you had to suppress a grin as his gaze darkened.

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice a low growl. “Don’t you dare.”

You tilted your head, looking up at him through your lashes. “What? I’m just trying to help. You said you couldn’t get rid of it, so…”

“So what?!” Bucky’s voice was almost hysterical now, and he shifted on his feet still not knowing what to do with his hands. “You think— You think you can just—”

“I mean…” You leaned in slightly, your cheek brushing against his thigh as you moved closer, your lips dangerously close to the outline of his jeans. “If it’ll get us out of here faster…”

“Y/N, don’t.” Bucky’s voice was strained, his hands coming up to hover uncertainty in the air as if he wanted to push you away but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. “I’m serious. This isn’t—”

“Isn’t what?” You raised an eyebrow, pressing your tongue against your cheek again in that infuriatingly suggestive way. “What do you want me to do, Bucky?”

“Not that!” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. “Just— Jesus, Y/N—”

“What?” You tilted your head, batting your lashes up at him. “It’s not going away on its own. And you said it’s my fault, right?”

Bucky groaned, his head dropping back against the wall with a soft thunk. “You’re gonna drive me insane, you know that?”

You bit back a laugh.

“So, should I…?” You trailed off, your eyes flicking pointedly to his crotch again.

“No,” he growled, his jaw clenching.

“Just trying to be helpful,” you murmured, smirking up at him.

“Helpful, my ass,” he muttered, but his gaze dropped to your lips, and his expression softened for just a split second.

You tilted your head slightly, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You sure you don’t want my help, Sergeant?”

His breath hitched again, and for a second, you thought he might actually say yes. But then he shook his head violently, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No,” he muttered, his voice rough. “No, I— We’re not doing this. Not here.”

You sighed dramatically, sitting back on your heels. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

Bucky let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you.”

“But you know…” You leaned in again, your breath ghosting over the front of his jeans as you looked up at him with a wicked grin. “If you change your mind—”

“Y/N!” he groaned, his voice breaking. “I swear to God, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” You grinned, thoroughly enjoying his torment. “Push me away?”

“I—” He faltered, his gaze darting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “I—”

“Didn’t think so,” you murmured, pressing your tongue against your cheek one last time. He let out a tortured groan, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“You’re evil,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and rough.

“And you’re still hard,” you teased, eyes drifting down to the very obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” he shot back, his voice strained, his gaze boring down at you.

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Guess you’ll just have to suffer, then.”

Bucky let out a long, tortured breath, his head falling back against the wall. His shoulders heaved as he struggled to keep himself under control. It was endearing, really—seeing the big, bad Winter Soldier at a loss for words, his composure unravelling inch by inch.

“I— I mean it, Y/N.” His voice was a mix of a plea and a warning now, and you felt a rush of satisfaction ripple through you. “Don’t… don’t mess with me like this.”

“Mess with you?” you murmured softly, leaning closer, the space between you narrowing. “Who said I was messing with you?”

He stilled, his jaw clenching as you brushed your cheek against the front of his jeans. You heard him suck in a breath, and when you tilted your head up to look at him, you saw the raw, unfiltered desire in his eyes.

“Doll…” He swallowed hard, his voice coming out rough and gravelly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, lips curving into a slow, wicked smile. “Like I’m about to do this?”

Before he could fake his protest, you reached up, your fingers lightly tracing the outline of his length firmly through his jeans. Bucky let out a low groan, his hips jerking at the contact.

“Shit,” he hissed, his head falling back against the wall.

You hummed softly, applying more grip to the fabric. He was so thick and hard beneath the denim, and the heat of him seared through the fabric. You ran your thumb along his length, pressing against the tip slightly, and Bucky let out a ragged moan, his hips twitching again.

“Want more, Sergeant?” you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes. “Want me to touch you properly?”

“Jesus—Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his voice breathless, “Just do it.”

With your deft fingers you unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans, pulling down freeing him from the constraint of his clothing. He sprang free, thick and hard, the tip flushed and glistening. You wrapped your hand around him, though your hand couldn’t fully envelope him.

“God, you’re big,” you murmured softly, giving a slow stroke from base to tip. Bucky shuddered, a low, needy moan escaping his lips.

“Doll, I—” His voice was rough and breathless, his hands hovering at his sides, watching you. “Just like that. Nice and slow. I want to feel every inch of your hand.”

“Yeah? Does it feel good?” you murmured, gripping him with your other hand. You ran your thumb over the sensitive head, smearing the precum that had gathered there, and Bucky let out a ragged groan, his hips bucking involuntarily.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, his hand sliding down to your chin, tilting your head up further. “Look up at me, doll. Want to see those eyes on me while you make me feel so fucking good.”

You stared up at him, your gaze locking onto his as your hands continued to pump his hardened length, your hand slick with precum as you moved faster, firmer. Bucky let out a choked moan, his hips thrusting into your grip as he lost himself in the sensation.

“Like that, Sergeant?” you asked softly, twisting your wrist at the end of each stroke. “You can’t even fit in my hands.”

“God, yes—” he muttered, “Your hand feels so fucking good. But you know what I really want?”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips parting slightly as you looked up at him. “What’s that, Sergeant?”

“I wanna feel that mouth on me,” He murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip before gently pressing it into your mouth, your eyes locked with his as you slowly wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking it seductively, “I want to come into your mouth and you swallow every drop of me.”

“Mhm, yes please.” You moaned softly, your breath hitching as his words sent a rush of heat straight to your core, making you undeniably wet under your skirt.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “You like that, huh? Like the idea of me using that pretty mouth? You gonna let me fuck that throat until it hurts, doll?”

“Hmm…” You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of him before pulling back, your gaze never leaving his. “Yes can you fuck my mouth good, Sergeant?”

“Holy shit—”

You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against his tip as you gave him a slow, teasing lick. Bucky’s hips jerked involuntarily again, as he was not expecting this, accidentally forcing his cock further into your mouth. You just smiled around him and worked on the head of his cock, the tip of your tongue tracing the grooves of the head of his penis. You slurped your way to the tip and suckled on the head for a minute, keeping him in your mouth as you nursed on it. You worked your way down to his balls, and took one and then the other in your mouth, and started the whole thing again.

You weren't even sucking him and he felt like he was about to scream.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his voice strained. “Just like that…”

You took your time with him, lavishing attention on his tip with soft licks and teasing strokes of your tongue. Every time you flicked your tongue over that sensitive spot just beneath the head, Bucky let out a low, desperate sound, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. “More… need more…”

You wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking gently as your hand continued to stroke his length. Bucky let out a choked moan, his fingers twitching in the air as if he was fighting the urge to grab you.

“God, you’re so fucking good at this,” he muttered, his head falling back against the wall. “. . . you’re gonna make me lose it—”

You glanced up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you slowly took him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around him. Your jaw widened and you pressed forward, letting him slide along your tongue. When Bucky hits the top of your throat, you paused.

His fingers itched to take the back of your head and shove his way inside, but he let you do this. You knew what he wanted, and he needed to see how far you would go to give it to him. You widen your thighs, changing the angle, and relax your throat muscles enough for him to slip in.

“That’s it,” Bucky crooned. “I will let you breathe in a moment. Eyes on me, baby.”

Your wide, almost panicked gaze met his and he saw the fear and determination. It made his dick pulse, and he gave a short thrust of his hips to tunnel deeper. You worked together for a few seconds until he was fully inside, exactly where he wanted to stay.

“Relax,” Bucky instructed. “Don’t pull off.”

Tears gathered and spilled over your lashes, the most beautiful sight Bucky’s ever seen. His cock filled your mouth and throat, your lips pressed to his pelvic bone.

“Swallow, Y/N.”

Your throat muscles worked, squeezing him, and he gasped. “Oh fuck,” He moaned, pulling back so you could take in air.

After a few seconds, he lifted a brow in question, asking silently if you were ready, and you nodded once. This time Bucky didn’t wait, unable to keep from grasping your head and ramming his cock in your throat. When he was as deep as he could go, he held there, loving the way you looked on your knees, suffering to make him feel good.

Bucky could feel the orgasm building, his balls growing tight and heavy, the need to empty his seed in your mouth. You saw it in his face, swallowing twice, then again, trying to force his come from his body, and the idea of it was so hot that he began roughly fucking your mouth.

Every third or fourth stroke went in your throat, and he was like a man possessed. It was so much better than he imagines, your sweet tongue rubbing the underside while your lips pulled to give him suction. Like you couldn’t wait to drink him down.

You let him set the pace, your eyes locked onto him as his movements become more erratic and desperate. His cock was sliding in and out of your mouth like an oiled piston, and the suction noises you created were squelching into the room. You held yourself steady, hands holding onto Bucky’s ass, while his hips moved faster, his grip tightening as he chased his release. His mouth hang open while ragged gasps escape past his lips and his moans filled the tiny closet, raw and needy and desperate.

“I am going to shoot all over your mouth,” Bucky panted.

You moaned in your throat as if you liked the idea, and the sound vibrated along his shaft. The thin threads of his self-control snapped and his balls sizzled with the impending orgasm. Pulling out of your mouth, Bucky fisted his cock as he aimed his spurting cock into your waiting mouth, thick jets erupted in pulses, his come pooling at the back of your mouth, coating your lips and chin. You sat patiently, taking it, letting him paint you with his release, and Bucky snarled in satisfaction, wishing he could drown you more in his come. When he finished it dripped off your chin and onto the floor.

“Fuck,” Bucky said, slumping against the wall. “I wish I could keep you like this. Just like this, baby. At my feet, covered in my come.”

Swallowing, you grinned, you licked your lips, tasting the thick mess. “Yum.”

Wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb as you sit back on your heels. "Glad I could help, Sergeant," you murmured, your voice soft and teasing as you licked your lips, making sure to savour every last drop.

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