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cheesybadgers · 4 years ago

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Narcos Fic: All In (Part 1)

Part 2 - Read on AO3

Sequel: Trigonometry

Masterlist - All In Universe Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Murphy x Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 4,953

Summary: Ever since arriving in Colombia, Steve has been desperate to be included in Peña’s and Carrillo’s plans to catch Escobar and his sicarios, but he can’t help feeling like he’s being iced out. He wants all in, but once again finds himself left on the side-lines. After Steve confronts Javi and Carrillo, they all get a lot more than they bargained for.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Threesome, blowjobs, handjobs (briefly), exhibitionism/voyeurism, dirty talk, slight authority kink, power dynamics, orgasm delay/denial, sex in the workplace, swearing, angst, jealousy, questioning of sexuality, open marriage and divorce (both only mentioned in passing).

Notes: So I’ve wanted to write something with these three for ages, because oh boy, the dynamics between them in the show are just crazy fascinating to me and they have recipe for a hot mess of a threesome written all over them 😉 On my last re-watch, I was inspired by a certain scene between Steve and Carrillo in Our Man In Madrid (although just to point out this fic isn’t set during the events of that episode). This is definitely the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written and there’s more to follow in part 2 *whistles* Part 2 is mostly done, it just needs a bit more work and editing, so I should hopefully be able to post it soon!

Whilst obviously I do not own Narcos or its characters, please do not copy, re-post, or plagiarize this fic in any capacity on this or other platforms. If you wish to create any fan works inspired by it, please provide a credit or send me a message if in doubt.

Steve threw open the door to Carrillo’s office, not bothering to knock before he burst in all guns blazing and slammed it behind him, causing the glass to shake within its wooden frame. He didn’t even care that he was clearly interrupting what appeared to be a very involved conversation between Carrillo and Peña.

The two men immediately broke off and subtly shifted apart, heads bolting towards the door to see who the source of the incoming storm was. As if they couldn’t have guessed.

Steve couldn’t believe they’d done this to him again. The real kicker this time was he was the one who’d brought the intel to Carrillo in the first place, yet that hadn’t stopped Carrillo and Peña taking off without him to track down a person of interest and ‘persuade’ them to talk. He was so fucking sick of being kept out of the loop like a child that couldn’t be trusted. He’d transferred to Colombia for a reason and it certainly wasn’t to sit on the side-lines feeling like a spare part.

“I know you left me behind on purpose again,” Steve accused in a raised voice, his emotions already threatening to get the better of him as he made the bold – or stupid – move of stepping into Carrillo’s personal space.

“It was for your own best interests.” Carrillo didn’t flinch at Steve’s body language; his calm demeanour in complete juxtaposition to Murphy’s hot-headedness.

Steve scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief at the sheer arrogance of the man. “You don’t know a god damn thing about my best interests.” Who the fuck did he think he was to decide that for him?

“What happens out there isn’t for everyone.” Carrillo hadn’t forgotten Steve’s less than enthusiastic reaction the last time he’d let him tag along, and took great pleasure in reminding him.

“When I first arrived here, I told you I wanted all in.”

“You know what that really means?”

“Oh, I do.”

“You sure about that, Murphy?”

“Yeah, I am as it happens. I’m a big boy, Carrillo, I can handle it.”

Carrillo huffed sardonically at Steve’s misplaced bravado. “So, Peña told you everything, did he?”

“I kinda figured it out for myself, thanks,” Steve shot back as he puffed his chest out and raised himself to his full height. An amusingly unnecessary gesture given the several inches Steve had over Carrillo regardless.

Carrillo looked across at Javi, who had been quietly watching this exchange play out as he leaned on the desk, having quickly decided his participation wasn’t required unless prompted. He’d been an unwilling bystander to enough arguments like this to know when to keep his mouth shut, but he had an increasingly bad feeling about where this was heading.

Javi returned Carrillo’s dark stare with a pointed look of his own, subtly shaking his head, silently pleading with him not to push whatever this was any further. He was confident Carrillo noticed the signal, but he persevered anyway.

“Oh, is that so? He told you what all in really means? And I thought it was our little secret, Peña.”

A dangerous edge had crept into Carrillo’s voice, as though he was toying with them both and enjoying it far too much.

“Fuck you!” Javi spat out as he lunged forwards, positioning himself almost protectively between Carrillo and Steve.

“I think you’ll find it was the other way round last time, Peña. Not far from where you’re standing right now,” Carrillo unleashed in reply. His expression remained neutral, evidently not intimidated by Javi’s posturing stance, nor caring about the verbal grenade he’d just launched across the room.

Steve could do nothing but stare at Carrillo with wide eyes and a gaping jaw, before transferring the intensity of his gaze to Javi, who he was quite sure had never looked so murderous and panicked in his life. It was as though Steve had heard it in slow motion, the words gradually filtering through his ears like a slowed down tape as he desperately tried to grab at each syllable to make sense of it all.

“Wait a god damn fuckin’ minute - you mean - you two are - you’ve been havin’ - together??” Steve eventually stuttered as the pieces slotted together in his head, the pitch of his voice climbing higher with each attempted question.

It was as though his brain had just short-circuited. Of all the things he figured they might have gotten themselves into when his back was turned, this was certainly not what he was expecting to hear and he had no fucking clue what to do with the information.

Beyond the initial shock and bewilderment, a knot of new emotions he didn’t fully understand was quickly unravelling inside him. At least this went part way to explaining Carrillo’s less than welcoming nature when Steve had first arrived in Colombia; not to mention the two men’s eagerness to slip away together after finishing work on a stakeout or raid. There had always been an edge of hostility and possessiveness from Carrillo; feelings not unlike the ones now at risk of overwhelming Steve at the thought of his partner being fucked by their co-worker. In this very room, apparently.

The more he dwelled on that specific thought, the more a myriad of other alarming and confusing feelings pooled inside of him, gradually working their way through his body, spiralling downwards and sparking a sensation that felt very much like arousal. Fuck. Where had that come from?

No sooner had he realised what he’d just been thinking about, he shook his head to snap himself out of his own thoughts. He had no idea how long he’d been silently losing his mind like this, but the self-inflicted jolt back to his surroundings alerted him to the increasingly tense atmosphere in the room.

“Ah, so he hasn’t quite told you everything then? Didn’t think so.” Carrillo was either unaware or quite unaffected by Steve’s ongoing existential crisis unfolding in front of him; it wasn’t clear which.

“For fuck’s sake, that’s enough.” Javi took a step closer as his fist reached out to grab at the collar of Carrillo’s polo shirt, the sudden movement causing him to make contact with the wall behind him.

Both men stared each other down, the sound of their heavy breathing amplified in the claustrophobic space between them. Steve had never seen Javi like this with Carrillo before, even when he wished he would be. It never did sit right with him just how willingly Javi went along with everything Carrillo said and did, although at least now he had an explanation for it.

“You sure you want to let him in, Peña? You really think he’ll be able to handle any of this?” Carrillo spoke in an antagonising half-whisper, as though Steve wasn’t part of the conversation, or even in the room.

Steve was so busy still grappling with the fact that the two of them had been conducting some sort of secret relationship right under his nose, he almost missed this new development. Why would either of them want him involved? How were they even wanting him involved? Would he be involved with both of them? Did he even want to be involved with both of them? It’s not exactly like he and Carrillo were best of friends and yet he couldn’t shake the thought of it, despite how fucked up it was. Was this something Javi wanted more than Carrillo did? Did this mean Javi had been thinking about him like that for a while and he hadn’t even noticed? Were they affectionate together? Did they love each other? He’s not sure why he wanted to know that, or why it stung to dwell on it for too long. His mind was awash with questions and each one sparked a whole new set of questions that he had no answers to.

“Who says I couldn’t handle it?” Steve suddenly blurted out, finding his voice before he’d really had chance to understand the full implications of his words.

He wasn’t really sure what he was claiming to be able to handle, if truth be told. He’d never been in this situation before; not with one man let alone two, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to find out, and perhaps had been curious for longer than he’d care to admit. He had been lonely since the divorce. He was quite sure this – whatever the fuck this even was – wasn’t the reason he and Connie split up. They’d had a multitude of problems in the end, but there was a part of him now wondering if Connie had picked up on something between him and Javi. There had been an undefinable something there for a while; he’d just never understood what it was or what it meant.

Even in the short few minutes since Steve had this bombshell dropped on him, there was no denying the very physical reaction he’d had, and apparently was still having. He could feel himself starting to throb through his jeans, especially when he thought about watching the two of them. Being a voyeur to two of the most stoic men he’d met in his life, as they pushed each other to their limits of self-control and beyond. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was all escalating quicker than he had anticipated.

“Steve, you really don’t have to fucking do this. Just...go home and forget we ever had this conversation.” Javi’s voice softened as he turned to face his partner, who now resembled a rabbit trapped in the headlights that Javi desperately wanted to put out of its misery.

“What - er, what if I don’t wanna forget it?” Steve’s voice wasn’t as steady as he was willing it to be. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest as he spoke and his palms had begun to sweat.

“Steve...don’t be fucking stupid.” Javi didn’t even want to entertain answering such a lethal question. Better to dismiss the notion outright from the start.

“I’m not a fuckin’ idiot, Javi. I know damn well what this means.” Steve paused for a moment, bracing himself for what was coming next. “I want all in.”

“Well, well, well. Looks like there’s more to your gringo than meets the eye,” Carrillo mused, his pupils wolf-like as they darted fervently from one man to the other.

Javi couldn’t quite understand what the fuck was happening, as his thoughts – or was it the room? – had started to spin. His body, however, was apparently several steps ahead of his brain, as Steve’s words rapidly permeated through his synapses, sending all of his blood rushing downwards and causing an uncomfortable tightening in his jeans. Shit.

This was new territory, at least where Steve was concerned. That wasn’t to say Javi’s mind had never gone there, though. Multiple times. In the dead of the night when all he had was his hand for company, when he just needed that sweet release to help him sleep after yet another day of dead-end leads and mounting frustration. He’d be lying if he said he’d never moaned out Steve’s name into the silence of his darkened bedroom and imagined it was his partner’s hand clamped around his aching cock instead of his own, but he had always tried to aggressively shove such thoughts to the back of his mind, never once believing anything could ever happen between them. Tried being the operative word, as it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Carrillo.

Steve had been a bone of contention between them for a while. Not that they were exclusive; far from it. They both had their own lives that they had a silent agreement not to discuss. Javi still had casual hook-ups from time to time. He still visited his favourite brothels when the mood struck him, or if it was necessary for intel purposes. Everybody works for somebody, right? That was just the way it rolled down here.

Carrillo in particular needed to compartmentalise his home life from his work life. He rarely spoke about work with Juliana and she didn’t ask questions if she could help it. She preferred to think of anything that happened at work as necessary for the greater good and leave it at that, even if that meant he sought comfort in the arms of someone else. Some no doubt would have judged her for living in blissful ignorance, but it worked for them. She got the unguarded, softer man that no one else got to see; she got Horacio. As long as her husband came home to her safely each night, she didn’t need or want to know the rest.

Javi most definitely fell in to the work category of Carrillo’s life. Their arrangement was more of a convenient coping mechanism; a release like a pressure valve, something they had gotten into the habit of doing to quell tension, to take the edge off, to forget. Or even sometimes to seek solace in someone who understood the darkness and horror of the world they surrounded themselves in. Javi never opened up to any of his bedfellows and Carrillo didn’t want to take that part of him home to his wife. It was surprisingly logical and straightforward, until Steve had shown up.

Carrillo could sense Javi’s head had been turned even if he would never admit it himself. To begin with, Carrillo would just make the odd jibe or teasing comment, purely to wind Javi up and of course it worked. But one night whilst they were blowing off steam, Carrillo had Javi exactly where he wanted him; spread out across his desk and on the brink. With one final, punishing thrust, he chose this moment to whisper directly into Javi’s ear “Bet you wish this was your gringo, don’t you? How about you invite him to join us next time?” Javi came right there and then, harder than he had in a long time.

From then on, it had been a lingering, unanswered question in the background that neither man wanted to be the first to address. Until now, apparently.

Javi ran his finger over his moustache several times as he mulled everything over, not that his brain had really digested all of it yet. “Okay, if we’re really doing this, we go slowly and if Steve says stop at any point, that’s it. It’s fucking over. Got it?”

“Loud and clear,” Carrillo replied, before he moved to ensure the door was locked and the blinds were drawn. A familiar routine he and Javi had gotten into since their arrangement had begun. Given the late hour, it was unlikely anyone else would be around, but they couldn’t take any chances.

“Steve, are you absolutely sure about this? Because there’s no going back. Once we’ve crossed that line…” Javi trailed off, not needing to overstate the obvious. He had to check, though. He had to be sure this was something Steve really wanted and that he wasn’t just doing it as part of some bullshit macho pissing contest he’d created in his head.

“Javi, it’s okay. I know. I’m sure. I want this.” The authority in Steve’s voice was finally returning, as he looked his partner dead in the eye.

Javi nodded, before looking back at Carrillo for direction on how this was going to play out. He couldn’t deny he still had reservations, but neither could he pretend this wasn’t a manifestation of his darkest desires. He had no idea why here or why now and in countless ways, he was fully aware it was a terrible, messy and catastrophic idea that they would probably all end up regretting. Maybe not immediately, but somewhere down the line someone would get hurt. But that was the thing about Javi; he liked making it hurt in all the right places. A bittersweet type of self-destruction that he too often found himself drawn to.

------------------------------------------------------

“Why don’t we let Murphy sit back and relax for a while and you get on your knees?” The natural commanding tone of Carrillo’s voice made it sound more like an order than a request. An order that both men were more than willing to comply with. Steve silently moved towards the chair in front of the desk and sat down, suddenly feeling self-conscious as all eyes were now on him.

Javi walked across to Steve and slowly kneeled in front of him. He could feel Steve’s nerves radiating off him in waves and lightly ran his hands up and down Steve’s thighs in an attempt to soothe him, tracing patterns with his fingertips.

“It’s okay, just relax and remember to breathe,” Javi reassured in a low rasp against Steve’s ear, as his lips teasingly brushed over his lobe and travelled down his neck.

Steve groaned, arching his head back with his eyes closed at the sensation of Javi’s soft mouth combining perfectly with the coarse bristles of his moustache, instantly setting his skin alight as he moved over him. “Easier said than done when you’re doin’ that.”

Javi continued kissing his way down Steve’s collarbone, whilst his hands travelled higher and higher up Steve’s thighs. Javi gently palmed his hardening length through the fabric of his jeans for a short while, noting the way his facial muscles ticked and his breathing shifted with each ministration, before unfastening his belt and lowering the zip.

“I think he’s more than ready for your mouth now, Peña.”

Javi would have preferred to take his sweet time over this and savour the moment, but there was something about Carrillo’s voice that so often compelled Javi to obey, even when every fibre of his being was crying out to rebel. It was his default position and it really fucking irritated him that someone got under his skin like this. In the beginning, he’d tried to fight against it, but his resistance had just spurred Carrillo on even further.

Javi followed Carrillo’s orders to the tee, finally unleashing Steve’s glistening cock from his underwear. Javi paused for a moment to gather himself, salivating as he took in the sight before him. He quickly put his tongue to work and gave a few experimental licks, unable to resist shifting his gaze upwards to gauge Steve’s reaction.

Steve let out a stuttered breath, followed by a string of garbled expletives.

Javi smirked at the effect he was already having and without warning, took Steve further into his mouth, clamping his lips around his sizeable length as he swallowed.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, Javi!” Steve’s fingers gripped the edge of the chair, already feeling like he was on the verge of losing control of himself if he wasn’t careful.

It was such a familiar yet new sensation all at once. Of course, he’d had more than his fair share of blowjobs in his life and Connie had been damn good at them. But the way Javi’s facial hair brushed teasingly over the tip of his cock caused him to shudder nonetheless.

“I think he likes that, Peña. I know you can take him deeper though. How about it, Murphy?”

“Shit – fuck – yessss,” Steve managed to hiss out in response to Carrillo’s direction whilst his partner steadily took him further into his mouth, just stopping short of hitting the back of his throat.

Javi began to slide up and down the shaft with his lips, gliding easily thanks to a filthy combination of Steve’s precum and his own saliva.

Steve whimpered loudly, his hips bucking up off the chair. Javi’s hands shot up and gripped at his waist, anchoring him back down into his seat and holding him in place.

In retaliation, Steve’s fingers found their way into Javi’s hair, his nails digging into his scalp before tugging and desperately trying not to fall apart right there and then.

Javi grunted at the contact, transmitting vibrations all the way down Steve’s cock and coaxing another moan from his throat. Every skilled, confident movement Javi made with his lips and tongue was sending shockwaves throughout Steve’s body, his senses overwhelmed as he clung on for dear life, not quite believing any of this was real.

He wondered if it was always this intense with another man, or if it was just because it was his first time…or was it the specific man doing it, with another specific man watching them? He didn’t know and couldn’t give it any further consideration in the moment. He wasn’t sure he even knew his own fucking name anymore, let alone anything else.

“You’re always so needy, aren’t you, Murphy? Always so desperate for our attention and to be included,” Carrillo taunted as he casually leaned against the wall.

His toned arms were folded across his broad torso as he surveyed the spectacle in front of him. Anyone could have been forgiven for thinking he was holding nothing more than a run-of-the-mill tactical meeting; such was his nonchalant body language and steely expression.

However, there was a noticeable bulge in his trousers that was becoming trickier to ignore now, as it twitched against his inner thigh at the sounds the two men were drawing out of each other. He attempted to shift his weight from one leg to the other to ease it, but the friction caused by the movement only further intensified the need to attend to it.

Steve’s blown pupils locked with Carrillo’s across the room. The formidable intensity of the Colonel had always intimidated Steve more than his ego cared to admit, but in this setting, it infuriatingly had an entirely different effect on him.

His gaze shifted downwards to Carrillo’s now very obviously tented trousers. “Looks like I’m not the only one in need of attention.” A self-satisfied smirk spread across Steve’s face, feeling that for once he’d got one over on Carrillo.

Carrillo pushed himself off the wall and stalked slowly but purposefully towards Steve and Javi, a look on his face akin to a predator with prey within its grasp.

“I think it might be time to put that big mouth of yours to better use, Murphy.” Carrillo reached downwards to unbuckle his belt as he spoke.

The clink of the belt echoed round the room and immediately silenced Steve. His eyes were now fixed on Carrillo’s hand, as it hovered dangerously over his flies.

Carrillo edged further forwards, well and truly invading Steve’s space, as he made a show of lowering the zip merely inches from his face. Steve turned his head sideways and all he could do was watch as Carrillo gradually eased himself out of his trousers and underwear, finally springing his impressively thick cock free.

Steve gulped loudly and involuntarily licked his lips, realising just how fine the line between resentment and arousal apparently was. He didn’t understand why he was so turned on by a man who had committed such brutal acts and had done nothing but undermine him since he’d arrived in Colombia. It wasn’t that he admired him…or maybe part of him did, if he was honest with himself. Maybe there was a hidden part of him that envied his ruthlessness. The same part of him that had been tempted to give into those base urges more times than he was prepared to acknowledge, but he’d been pulled back from the precipice, more often than not by Javi of all people.

Javi had been watching this unfold and found himself nursing a sharp ache in his chest as the two men’s attention was very much on each other. There was something almost paradoxical about the situation, as though two parallel universes had collided by accident and Javi had been the sole force keeping them apart, but now that the walls had given way, his entire reality was in danger of crumbling around him.

In an attempt to redress the balance, Javi fondled Steve’s balls with one hand, firmly squeezing them whilst simultaneously increasing the suction to the tip of his cock.

Mission accomplished, as Steve loudly moaned and gripped forcibly at Javi’s hair once more, his head thrown back in pleasure and his attention enticed away from Carrillo.

“Fuck Jaaaavi, oh shit, fuck!” Steve spluttered out, gritting his teeth and applying heightened pressure to the back of Javi’s head, forcing him to take him deeper still.

Javi’s nose nuzzled against Steve’s blonde curls, eliciting another grunt from the depths of Javi’s throat as each vein of Steve’s cock glided over his mouth as he swallowed him down to the hilt. It was enough for his hand to instinctively reach down and fumble at his own belt, making light work of it in desperation for some sort of friction.

“Not yet,” Carrillo warned, sternly looking down at Javi.

Javi glared up at him with narrowed eyes, briefly tempted to ignore him, before thinking better of it.

“Think you can handle us both at once, Murphy?” Carrillo challenged whilst still eyeballing Javi.

“Try me.” Although despite his confidence, Steve’s shallow breaths betrayed his bluster.

With that, Carrillo guided his cock forwards and Steve slackened his jaw to allow the other man to slide in. Steve tried not to gag, unused to the warm, throbbing weight between his lips.

Carrillo held in a long breath before steadily exhaling, determined to keep a hold of his composure for as long as possible, not wanting to give Steve the satisfaction of knowing he was capable of breaking him in any way, shape or form. He withdrew, before pressing forwards again; Steve more prepared this time and able to accommodate him further into his mouth.

Carrillo grunted lowly as he watched Steve’s plump, pink lips swallow him down, whilst he braced himself with one hand against Steve’s head. The Colonel grasped at damp, sandy strands of hair, securing him in place with his fist.

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut at the sudden pressure applied to his head mixed with whatever the fuck Javi was now doing with his tongue. It was all so much, there was no way he was going to last much longer.

“So, this is what it takes to shut you up then. Should have tried it sooner,” Carrillo goaded through gritted teeth.

It was taking all of Carrillo’s willpower to conceal the extent of his arousal, both hands now gripping roughly at Steve’s hair and his hips bucking forwards. He was torn between wanting to really let loose, showing Steve no mercy; and holding back a fraction on account of this clearly being the first blowjob Steve had ever given. That’s not to say he wasn’t showing promise; nothing that a bit more practice and direction wouldn’t improve. His willingness to please was evident. Annoyingly it always was.

Even now, he still wasn’t sure if he liked the guy but more tolerated him out of respect for Peña, but the power trip was intoxicating. Not to mention, Carrillo had seen that glint in Steve’s eye, especially when his partner wasn’t around to restrain him. He’d heard directly from Peña about the times where he’d had to step in and hold him back. Carrillo recognised an all too familiar darkness lurking beneath the surface, just waiting for the chance to emerge if Steve allowed it. Carrillo wondered if he’d ever be the one to make him completely lose control and that twisted thought alone caused his cock to twitch against the side of Steve’s mouth.

Steve retaliated by strengthening the suction with his lips. The awkward angle wasn’t ideal, but he was still able to bob his head, steadily beginning to fuck Carrillo.

Carrillo’s breathing was more laboured now, his resolve fracturing at the edges despite himself. He slammed his hips forwards, unleashing a muffled whimper from Steve whose mouth was now stuffed full of the Colonel’s cock, his steel-blue eyes watering from the strain at the back of his throat.

Steve was dangling precariously close to the edge now. One hand clenched in the waves of Javi’s hair, whilst his other gripped the chair with whitened knuckles.

Javi struggled not to fall apart himself. His unfastened belt tantalisingly knocked against his erection as he bobbed his head vigorously up and down Steve’s length and it took everything he had left in him not to take himself in hand. He focused instead on giving Steve what he needed, what they both needed.

Javi had wanted to protect him from all of this and he was still conflicted on whether he was making a huge mistake right here on the floor in the middle of Carrillo’s office. Steve was naïve in ways that Javi or Carrillo hadn’t been afforded the privilege of in a long time, but Javi reasoned with himself that it wasn’t sustainable for him to be shielded. Better that he be broken in like this than the multitude of other darker possibilities on offer down here. At least Javi could control things to a certain point if it went too far.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Javi slid one of his hands forwards to meet with Steve’s on the chair, tightly slotting their fingers together. A small gesture, but enough to pull Steve away from Carrillo, his eyes casting downwards at their interlocked hands, then up at Javi. Ice-blue colliding with chestnut-brown in a look that conveyed more than any words exchanged between them ever had.

Carrillo had been silently watching from above, a fierce and volatile combination of emotions he wasn’t expecting twisting and pulling inside of him, threatening to bubble up and spill over like molten lava at any moment.

“My turn now,” he abruptly cut in, pulling them out of whatever moment they were sharing and denying Steve the heady release he had been on the very cusp of.

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fictional-thoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Poisoned

the mandalorian x fem!reader

warnings: smut, rough messy sex, slight dom/sub elements, sex pollen (dub/con), language, breath-play, fingering, one (1) spank

words: 6k+

a/n: this is genuinely the smuttiest thing i’ve ever written...enjoy

The Mandalorian is walking too fast, he’s gaining speed, leaving her behind in the foggy dark green forest. She’s desperately trying to keep up but her body’s seizing up and trembling and soaked in sweat. His cloak sways behind him and she’s try to not feel dizzy as the tanned colour of it clouds her blurry vision; but the planet is spinning in time with her twisting nerves and white hot muscles.

He’s clumsy, ducking under banches almost too late and his boots catch on thick veiny vines that litter the forest floor. The air smells damp and of pollen, of fluorescent flowers, dripping their sickly sweet scents and luring their prey. Deathly and dark violet the bulbous and puffy flowers hang in thick bunches, taunting the bounty hunter, teasing him with their lavender faces.

He should have known something was wrong. It was too silent. Too dark.

“Wait, wait,” she’s sweating under the thick and flexible armour, it feels as if there’s a million suns spanning the vast sky above her, burning down in fury from the gods. Skins slicked and her underclothes are sticking uncomfortably, melting to her frame. Her hairs a mess, damp and knotted and frizzy with humidity. “Damn it, Mando — somethings wrong.”

Mando nearly freezes in his tracks at her words voice high and broken; fuck, he knew it. She’s got it too, she has be feeling the same, weakened, chest constricted, halting breath in the lungs and skin burning like a forest fire, tongue parched and dry in the mouth, it’s death but only slower.

“What did you say?”

She coughs. The pit of her stomach is pulling towards an unseeable object, ripping through muscles in curling motions, thighs and hands trembling. The forest is so dark and bushy and green and lush she’s having trouble telling what is in front of her, eyes bleary and blinking in and out.

She hears the Mandalorian speak and nearly crash into the brushes under her heavy boots, the hot curls of pain unfurl inside her, a caged animal, clawing to be free and rid of her wretched body.

Something is really wrong.

Her hands find a mossy tree trunk and she’s barely keeping herself up, she’s holding her head in her shaking hand and has got her eyes screwed shut to block out the sight of the Mandalorian pushing his way back through the trees to get back to her, his long rifle catching on the vines and boots thumbing on the ground that seems to sway, a gentle and giant seesaw of lush greenness is the planet, twisting into a thousand vines.

He’s getting closer and it’s all she can do but not scream. Don’t, don’t come any closer.

“You okay?” He grips her forearm tight in his gloved hand and her skin erupts in goosebumps, prickling her skin with an override of electricity. Her mouth drops open as a thousand fluttering beings swarm inside her stomach as he’s connected to her.

“Don’t touch me,” she’s frantic and he’s pulling away from her, his gloved hands raised, almost in defence. Her own clammy hands are pulling at the thick straps and buckles of her armour, it’s too tight and she can’t breathe.

The Mandalorians mind is racing, thinking back to every single second they they’ve been on the godforsaken planet, it’s a slipping of details, they’re all a blur, pieces fell where they shouldn’t be and he’s so confused, why can’t he remember what happened to them? Why does it seem to be affecting her more then it is him?

Then he realizes.

The Mandalorian growls a soft swear, “shit,” and she whips her head to look at him, pupils dilated and forehead glazed with a sheen of sweat, she’s a breathtaking disaster.

“What?”

“This is your fault.” He’s harsh, condescending. He angrily snaps his rifle over his shoulder to free up his movements, he’s handling the weapon roughly and she’s watching with slight awe. Every second he’s in hot pain, it’s pulling him closer to her every second and now he’s absolutely certain. “Now —” he tries to explain but she’s already lashing out in that bright red anger.

“You bastard, how is this my fault?” She stumbles and nearly falls but catches herself with some dignity, ignoring the Mandalorians hand moving to help her, if need be. Her raised voice causes his chest to lurch and he’s trying not to look directly at her. He’s now absolutely certian and trying to remain calm.

They’d been wandering through the thick forest, stepping through shallow streams and climbing over moss covered rocks protruding from the planets crust. She’d been walking along, weapons slung across her chest, just absolutely entranced by the canopy of violet flowers that hung in thick and heavy looking bunches over their heads; the red suns of this planets atmosphere did their best to shine through the long winding leaves of the plants, but as the bounty hunters continued on, the darker their surroundings became.

She was ignoring the Mandalorian, angry at him once again for getting them lost, but his argument in retaliation was she had simply forgotten to pack the ships tracker back at base. Packed into a steaming argument she then proceeded to send him surly glares and refuse to speak.

The Mandalorian didn’t mind much, he liked the quiet, and quite honestly, he enjoyed it more when he knew she weren’t going to start speaking. He’d never been much of a talker, but going on this mission with a fellow (amateur) hounty hunter, he’s been forced to converse, pleasantly or not.

They had been walking under the flowers for ages, time didn’t exist there, a loop of the hours that dragged on forever. Then that is where everything was her fault.

She touched a small fluorescent flower, curled her slim fingers around the velvety petal she smoothed skin of the plant under her palm and turned to examine the bright pollen covering her flesh.

She caught his gaze for a moment, a hazed over kind of glint in her eyes, then looked down at her pollen covered hand, then back at the innocent looking plant, a light violet powder covered her hand, and imprinted on the large petals was her very handprint.

“It’s just a plant. We should keep moving.” He turned and strode away, pushing down the idea that she had looked beautiful, surrounded by soft colours, it was different than her usual aesthetic. She only smiled, her frustration melted away, and brushed the rest of the pollen from her palm, together they watched it soak into the air, soft and aesthetic it slid between the panels of sunlight that peeked through.

The faces of flowers watched the hunters leave the forest; poisoned and deadly.

“You gotta be fucking kidding. Fuck.” The Mandalorian sighs deeply and he’s trying not to stare as she’s stripping from her metallic armour, her hurried fingers untying the laced up straps of her chest piece he’s kneeling down and helping her before she can yell at him. His gloved hands graze the skin of her collarbone exposed between the laces of her white undershirt and she’s whimpering.

She can’t strip right here. He’s not sure what will happen if she does. “Stop.”

“I said don’t fucking touch me,” she’s pushing him away and glaring, dark and deep.

“Do you know what that was?” He’s cooled down, thinking of what to do, that pulsing and burning need is brimming within his chest, begging and a slur of sinful thoughts seep into his mind. “The flowers?”

She’s sunk down to the brushy forest floor amongst the fluffy ferns and little white dotted flowers with red cheeked and filled with fierce bemusement she answers him. “The hell should I know.”

His shoulders droop with his heavy sigh and he’s scanning the trees around them, wondering if it’s the pollen affecting his sight too or if the wooded plants really do look as if they are bending over them, creaking and contorting into an arch as if to protect the two hunters, watch over them. “I’ve heard of these before, and this has to be it — why you’re in pain.”

The Mandalorian makes no comment of his own deplorment, controling desire morphed into threads of pain. He’s keeping it under wraps but having her so close to him, so bare and soft, as much as she exists to him as an enemy rather than one he’s thought of in such a way its throwing his attention askew.

“I’m not in pain,” she’s snapping at him again, short words and a steely tone she’s already turning a cold shoulder, never accepting the fact that she’s not immortal.

Inwardly she knows she’s lying, but it’s a half lie, she’s in pain but it’s a familiar feeling, the warmth pooling inside her, trembling hands and thighs, she can just feel the dampness at her core, hot and slick she’s absolutely soaked.

“I’m just —” she cant string the words together, looking up at the stern Mandalorian she’s fighting back the urge, the longing and pathetic urge to crawl into his lap and have him fuck her till she can’t breathe; to sink himself deep inside her with a hand around her neck and to just fuck her senseless.

“I know.”

They’re back at the ship, the night air is cold and there are few stars alive in the sky. The Mandalorian and her are only feet apart, he’s across from her in his chair, back straight and unmoving, facing the dash. She’s sitting on the ground with her back against the rough cooling wall, the metal grated floor is hard and her ass is sore but if she’s sitting anywhere else she’s close to the Mandalorian and she can’t have that.

WInd howls outside and the huge trees sway in the darkness outside the Mandalorians ship.

She’s got her eyes closed, jawline accented in the semi darkness she’s leaning back to the wall, bottom lip caught under her teeth she’s biting down harshly and tapping her foot in an anxious beat as sweat drops past her sternum and slides over her skin between her breasts, she feels every milimeter of her skin crawl and its rolling in waves, the slick and pushing arousal, its sliding under her skin and got its grip on her chest so tight shes stripped her shirt off.

Her forgotten armour and boots lay in the middle of the open space within the ship.

This isnt ending soon.

The Mandalorian watching his fist curl and uncurl, the wrinkles of the leather gloves he’s wearing bend and fade, he’s unfocused and can only think of her, she’s ten feet away and hasn’t spoken to him since they made it back to his ship. He’s thinking of how she uttered a moan as he brushed her lower back, her eyes closing, slipping into a world where the affects of the pollen are taken care of.

He’s wondering just how long the effects last when the she speaks up, her voice hoarse and taunt in her lungs. “How the hell is this not having any effect on you?” His fist clench one last time and he’s shifting in his chair, through the visor his eyes close momentairly, pondering of what to say.

“I never said it wasn’t.”

For all the wrong reasons heat pools within her core at the Mandalorians tender voice, smooth and rich its all she can do but imagine how he sounds next to her ear, telling her how good she feels around him, how wet and tight. “You feel this too?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s still blaming her, still wrapped in the idea she’s at fault. How could she have known? In turn, he was at fault as well, getting them lost and failing to recall the deadly flowers.

Then she’s saying something he’d never expect.

“I’m so sorry,” she’s muttering, rubbing the heals of her hands into her eyes, blurring her vision — childlike, innocent. “This is all my fault,” grimacing, she moves her legs to be more comfortable. “It hurts,”

An apology. In the moment the Mandalorian finds it amusing that it takes fucked up pollen fever to force her to apologize for something.

The Mandalorians chest is pinched, painful, and he sighs deeply, she sounds so wrecked, her voice soft, weak. He hears her shifting on the floor and his ears ring witht he rustle of clothing — everything is sensitive. “I know,” he says her name in the short sentence and she’s whimpering in reply.

They could be anywhere, planets away, flying past suns and stars, holed up in dingy towns or broken cities — no, they’re ten feet apart and both have managed to inhale sex pollen straight from the deadly plant itself.

“Mando,” she whimpers again, sliding her hands down her torso, her palms press over her nipples and her back arches; she’s forgetting her hatred for the Mandalorian, letting his annoyance to her everyday life slip from her mind — she’s opened her eyes and he’s there, standing, the shadows curved around him you can only see the outline of his form. Her eyes linger on his arms, his now bare hands and the warmth tugs somewhere deep inside her.

Eyes darkened and filled with a lingering prederatory hilt, she’s pulling herself to her feet, the Mandalorians watching her, a warrior, torn and wrecked, chapped pink parted lips and lashes fluttering over her bright eyes — unstoppable, seductive. He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about her beyond the dealings of companionship, of partners in they crimes they commit.

“We gotta do something about this, Mando.” Its killing her, she’s sure of it. Her eyes break into his beskar, drag over his bulky body.

“There’s nothing... we just wait it out.”

“I can’t,”

“I don’t care.” He’s back to cruel words in the place of his longing rule the flood of things he wants to say, to bend close to your ear and whisper. Fuck me.

She’s stalking closer to him, wetting her lip with her tounge its only moments before something has to happen, its damp and rushed in the hazy red lights inside the ship, they’re furious and watching the Bounty Hunters below.

“I hate you, you know that?” Her words are dripping burning silk — she’s never hated him. And thats her immortal demise, a secret, tucked away in her heart.

“Feelings mutual.” He turns his head to stare into her eyes, her widened and starlike eyes. His own dark eyes trail down past her collarbone and land on her breasts nearly pushed from her tight covering, rising ad falling in time with her breaths. His hands ich to just touch.

She purrs. “We can hate eachother,” she’s stepped closer to him and he’s not moving, allowing her to invade all idea of personal space she’s so close he can smell her. She seems to forget where she was going with her sentence, looking up at him its like she sees right through him.

“Can we?” His voice breaks through the mask. She chews on the idea, wonders what kind of pretty words it would take to get him to fuck her. Her cunts soaked and throbbing, the push of the material of her pants aren’t helping.

“Have you ever been with anyone?”

There it is.

“Dont ask stupid questions.” He’s turning away but she’s got a hold of his arm, her warm hand in contact with his is taking ridiculous affect, lurching up and and through his chest the Mandalorians heart is in his throat. “We cant,”

He’s thinking it too.

“Its not wrong,” she’s sliding her hand down to slip her fingers through his, stiring up the growing fire. Its hot and heavy, weighs him down. “Mando, please,” she’s begging, caught on whimpers she’s breathing heavier and heavier. The Mandalorin pulls his hand from her grip, raises it and he’s brushing a forlorn tear from her cheek.

Please. “I can’t stop it,”

He’s slowly going insane, at the touch of her skin something within him snaps and he’s pulling her close, pushing her to the wall of the ships interior, his arms trapping her in. Their breaths match, and she’s so close to him, her eyes softening her mouth opens to beg, of pathetic desperation and drunk on the flowers bitter poison. The Mandalorian stops her, a bare hand agaisnt her mouth he’s silenced her. The touch of their burning skin nearly has her dropping to her knees. She looks into the visor of the hemlet and searches of emotion, a flicker of life behind the face of a machine.

The Mandalorians body is pressed to hers, compact, brimming with the poisonous affections, they’re drowning in the stuff. She shudders in his grasp, the mix of metal and weapons, of leather and the soft material of his shirt, its all too much, burning and keeping her of air its not enough.

He’s looking away from her, forcing himself to keep his cool. Its a rippling fire, lurching and spreading as if alive, the thick coils are heavy. Mando tempts a movement, his cock hard against her and it’s so good — she whines info his hand, her leg slinking up his own, trapping him closer.

“You really don’t know what you do to me, huh?” The Mandalorian’s rough, distracted, caught in grinding out as much friction against her as he can, chasing away the clouding thoughts, screaming at him that everything is wrong.

But those fade, sink into pure silence when her free hand slides up his wrist, nails dug into his skin, she’s pulling his hand away from her lips, her heavy lidded eyes dance with seduction. He’s watching her turn his hand, help him cup her jaw, half spread over the side of her throat, his thumb glides over her lip, she’s turning her head, leaning into his grasp she’s taking the digit between her wet pursed lips, sucking, biting down.

Fuck.

“Please Mando,” hoarse voice in his ears and shooting a pool of warmth straight through him. She’s sinking into the wall, dark eyes pouring into him. Desperate. Longing. “What, you want me to beg?”

Mando freezes. A growl pushes its way through his chest. “No,” she’s ruining him, breaking him apart by the seams. Her brows knitted, eyes wide, pleading. A selfish, dark part of the Mandalorian wants to force her to her knees, maybe turn her front to the wall, press deep into her and fuck the burning urges away.

Her tones smooth and sinking into his skin, drugging him. “Wanna watch me get off? Maybe that’s what you’d like, Mando?”

She pushes him back, forcing stumbling steps, using what’s left of her strength. It’s wickedly wrong, she needs him so bad it hurts. She wants to drop to her knees, taste his cock on her tongue, strip the beskar off, drag her nails down his skin, make him moan her name.

Her words are nearly fucking unbearable. The burning sexual tension hangs in the air, choking them. The ships inside is warm and sticky, her half bare body is covered in sweat, her skin flushed and eyes dark, she matches what earthquakes seem and what passion wishes it could be.

The last dregs of self control fade, his minds hazy with greed and the absence of her burning fever touch has him desperate.

“Get on the floor.”

Quiet. Commanding. She’s obeying instantly and sinks to the floor of his ship, grated metal digging into her flesh, the ground is filthy and gritty and she’s biting back harsh words, only for the moment, thick and heavy need is in place of hatred. Her poisoned gaze burns into him, watching him pull away weapons and leather, heavy cloak and chunks of beskar — not all all of it though.

He’s over her, burning touch that’s melting to her skin. She falls into a moan, her stomach tense with arousal, spreading through her body, following his hands. “Fuck you need to touch me,” everything is begging her to delve into him, rip apart from their restraining history, make amends and build up something new, something in which he can fuck her and hate her at the same time.

And maybe he is.

Through the visor of his helmet, glitching into view, her body spread and displayed, his core deepens, eating him from the inside. Mando pulls her to his lap, her cunt right over his centre, throbbing over his cock. A hot moan drips from the helmet, he closes he eyes, letting her move against him, spine arched beautifully; Mando slides an arm around the small of her back, keeping her close with a spread hand. The other gropes her chest, further pulling down the tight material covering her tits.

“I need—” a whimper slides over her lips, her hands settle over his broad shoulders, drag him closer. “I need something...your hands — fuck — your lips on me.”

“You’re not getting that.” He promises, his helmets not coming off, he’s barely taken any armour off — and she’s bare over him, albeit tight underclothes. His hand slides down her skin, past her navel and dip down past her underclothes, shoving them aside. She gasps loudly, releasing her breath in a shaking moan as his fingertips brush her softness.

That aching pull, it’s deepening and she’ll surely run out of breath before the Mandalorian can properly touch her. She’s forgotten it’s not affected him as much as her — not that it matters, he’s got his hand on her cunt and his dick is hard and thick under her. “Please, oh my god.”

The helmet tilts, the coolness brushing her skin. He’s watching her, arched into his grasp, silently begging for anything. Then he’s curled two fingers into her, gathered in slick and crooked just right and she shrieks, shatters over him. Blood red lips and wild eyes, she’s moving, urging him to fuck her through the drug, bring the heavyness to an end. Its not enough.

She’s falling back, legs untanged with his, she’s gripping him and pulling him close, collasping onto the floor, his hand leaves her for a moment, tugging an empty ache back into her gut. “No, no --” she’s whimpering, “please keep going.”

His hand pushes the mess of hair from her face, looking right into her wretched eyes. Through the rush and anger, he feels a bit of softness, a bit of longing mixed with a likeness, she must be well under the drug, for she’s never been one to beg just that much. His bare hands slide back over her body, dipping past her hipbones and blunt nails dragging down her thighs. Her cunt glistens, Mandos caught in wondering just how she’d taste on his tongue, his head between her thighs, tight around his ears.

“Mando,”

The helmet tilts again and she catches a glimpse of skin, tan under the material and beskar. It’s the column of his throat, leading down where his collarbone would be. The sight sends her into fresh, delicious delirium.

“You need me to fuck you.” He’s buying time, seeing how far she can stretch, the looks of her all soft and longing is turning him on a little too much. It’s not the girl she normally is.

Half a sob curls up, painfully pushing at her throat. She needs him so bad. “Isn’t that fucking obvious.”

There she is.

Without warning he’s over her and his hand on her cunt, two fingers sunk deep in her wetness, pulling her into a painful arch from the grated flooring. She shakes, her hand finds his shoulder and grips tight, nails nearly digging into the thick material of his shirt. Living vicariously through the feeling of his fingers in her cunt, he’s back to thinking just how she’s taste, how she’d writhe and shiver under his tongue. The thoughts are burning through him and his dick is painfully hard — her thigh brushes him and he nearly comes right there.

He’s fucking her slowly, roughly; thumb brushing her clit through the plush wetness of her cunt, she biting down on moans and quivering, lithe in his grasp. “Mando please, I need —” she’s got her eyes squeezed shut, rolling through another wave of wanton poison, it’s bleeding into every nerve.

“I know what you need,” he’s got her. His voice soothes her, his rough hands pull her thigh up, three fingers slathered in her dripping elixir, they’re flat to her clit and pushing in short circles. His touch is chasing away the heat in her skin, derived under influences of lust, she’s collapsing under thick waves of it. She needs his hands, his lips his dick — anything. What the Mandalorian is doing is not enough.

“Mando, just shut up, please —” the slip of his fingers on her clit is sloppy, pressing hard and soaked in her honey. “I need something.” It still hurts, the pollens clamped itself inside her system, taking ahold of her hot muscles, her running heart and flushed skin.

He’s got her pinned, ragged sounds tear from him, the helmets speakers crackle with his breath. Mandos hovered above her, ire trained on her face, down her chest to her breasts rising and falling, pert nipples and soft curves. She’s so damn soft, angelic in a ruined sort of way. Mando groans, her hands found his cock, palming through the fabric.

“Take of the mask,” she’s panting, her free hand leaves his shoulder and slides down the metal, right where she imagined his cheekbone would be. His movements slow. “Wanna have your fucking mouth on me.”

“Helmet stays on.” He’s pulled her closer, sinking down to cover her bare body with his metallic and leather clad one, his right hand digs under her thigh, raises it to his side, slim fingers gripping her pretty curves. She’s frustrated, all that hate and anger comes back in droves, her hand leaves his cock, much to her displeasure and leaves him chasing the feel of it, she’s temping him, fueling a spark of anger.

“I don’t care.” She hisses, eyes scathingly dark.

Smack! His hand slaps the outside of her thigh, burning the skin a deeper colour and bringing a cry of surprise to the edge of her breath. Fuck, the spank shot the air from her lungs, swollen lips parted but not a noise leaves them.

The sudden sting and roughness of it was painful — she wants it again. Her cunts tight around nothing and she’s pulled on an edge.

“Could blindfold you,” the voice through the helmet is deep, it sends her further into an intoxicating trance. “That what you want?”

Fuck no. She’s biting her lip and pushing herself up and onto him. Her tits press to his beskar and it’s cold to her skin, covered in goosebumps and sweat, chills run rampant over her form. She whimpers, his rough hands find her cunt, dip into the warmth once again.

“I’m not putting a blindfold on, fuck that.” She’s panting, arched up to him as his fingers leave her cunt, slicked and tasting of her sweetness. She’s mewling and its not enough, she needs the real thing. She’s begging him to fuck her properly between the sounds of metal clinking, the heavy rustle of fabrics — he’s not wasting a second before he’s half torn from the beskar.

The Mandalorian smooths his bare hand over her cunt, watching her shiver — wretched art, she’s beautifully twisted. She’s palming her own breast, arching info the feeling, her body calling him, a siren luring.

Fuck it. He could do no blindfold.

“Fine,” he’s growling and grips her hips, hands dug into her skin he’s flipped her over, her chest pressed onto the dirty floor of the ship, the Mandalorian runs a hand up her smooth back, his hand curves around the back of her neck and she’s pinned down.

His free hand rips the helmet off, it clatters fo the floor beside her, the empty metal visor staring, watching. Basked in fresh air and the smell of sex, Mando leans over her, a large hand slides up past her tits and circles her throat. She whines and bends to his will. Mandos rough and unforgiving, a newfound freedom without the helmet has him pulling her body right to his broad chest, teeth scraping her neck, damp moans and mutters of curses fall from his hungry lips.

“Gods, gods you’re so good,” his raw and ragged tone is thick in the air, finally free of his helmet, still mysterious to her, it’s the sinking reality of just how attracted she is to him, how pathetically desperate she is, letting a man fuck her and never let her see his face; but the feel of his hardness pressed against her along with leftover leather and beskar mixed with his lips on the lobe of her ear is enough.

She wants the Mandalorian to show her how good she is. All that blinds her is pure need, flower drunk and trapped in the world of fever dreams.

Sliding her ass against him, his cock hard as fucking marble between them, she moans, ripping through another wave of arousal, she’s growing wetter by the second its evident on the inseams of her thighs, shiny and coated. The Mandalorian shoves harshly her down again, his knee knocking hers to the side, spreading her apart, bending over her his lips and teeth find her shoulder blade and between her yearnful sounds, stuck in the darkness of the fever, she’s struggling, eyes squeezed shut.

Then sliding past all that, pushing through shuddering breaths, Mando grips her tight and sinks himself into her. Its instant relief, a fall into icy rushing water and the world becomes clear again, everything is felt differently. She’s warm and wet, every inch delved deep in her cunt is pure bliss.

“Oh-h stars—” curling, tense pressure mounts within her, she’s sensitive and trembling, he’s breaking her open, it’s everything she’d been desperate for and more. She’s writhing in his grasp, tangled in pleasure, her form caved to his touch.

The Mandalorian moans, exilariated he’s pulling back only to slam himself into her again, arms supporting him he’s leaned over her, pressing messy and wet kisses to her shoulder, sinking his teeth into her soft skin he’s forcing her to cry out, to bend at his will and crave him only more. She’s stretched, a sleek feline, muscled and curved, her knees are spread and the metal of the floor is digging into her skin, its painful but she doesnt feel it in the moment.

At a loss of words, her lips part and she’s stuck, caught in thick webs of flowing pleasure, running in hot waves through her bloodstream, her nerves and bones. The Mandalorians pace is off, deep and hard, he’s sloppy and rough.

Its a race to the edge and she finds herself taunt, her thighs tremble and she’s already close, taking it hard she covers her mouth with her hand, pushing forwards as the Mandalorians movements twist into something other than, something primal and urging on what the poison called them to do.

Her body half broken under fatigue, Mando’s strong arms grip hers and gather her up, spine curved again, her ass pressed to his hipsbones, the new angles deep and he stutters his movements, head falling tight to her shoulder, resting for only a moment.

He’s fucking her harder, messier. One arm wrapped around her chest, hand clasped with hers and the other winds around her throat, forearm pressed over her chest. Fingertips pressing to the sides of her neck, he knows just what he’s doing — right amount of pressure, the slight squeeze, it’s got her gasping and hungry for adrenaline. She curled an arm back, holding the back of his head, fingers threaded through his thick hair, soft under her palm.

“Mando, fuck you’re good,” maybe it’s the drug, maybe she’s sunk under the influence, thick with lust but each show, calculated fuck against her has her wondering why they’ve never done this sooner.

He squeezes once, a warning. “Quiet,” and that’s why, she remembers, slurring thoughts mix through her foggy mind, he’s controlling, he’s rough and merciless — but it doesn’t matter now, she’s halfway to orgasm and the calling relief is so much better than her hatred for him.

She’s trembling on the edge, the Mandalorian fucks her hard and fast, chasing after release and turning the lust into something wickedly beautiful. Each hit has her breathtaking moans, a little gift to his ears, furthering his seeping arousal. She’s tight and hot around him, fucked out at a perfect angle and lashing against his grip, then it’s all blinding and his release comes from nowhere, coating and warm inside her she’s gasping at the feel, triggering her own fall from grace.

Slow and gutteral moans, shaking breaths and molten energy, they’ve fallen on the same brink of time, waves of lighting crash through her, the heavy coil snapping, evolving into sparks of rabid pleasure. She muffes shrieks into her hand. Mando’s never come harder, so unexpectedly torturous, she’s impossibly wet around him and it’s hard to keep a grip, her thighs shake. Three more leisurely thrust, deep in her cunt has him tripping through the moment, head dropping to her shoulder, teeth gritted tight, he’s a mess and it’s wrecking him.

“Fuck,” he bites down on the swear, she shivers as he pulls away, hands releasing her throat and waist she’s shaky and not able to hold herself up. Mando doesn’t speak, his mind filled with one thing.

Through the darkness of the Crest, the thick taste of sex in the air and sounds of her intoxicating whimpers, he sinks down and helps her lie back, her form shifting under him, she’s facing him in the darkness, breathing through the aftershocks. “Holy... shit,”

“Don’t move,” chasing the trembles down her ruined form, he drops between her legs once again, dangerous hands pawing at her thighs, her knees had knocked together, tensed in the throes of pleasure but Mando’s splitting them open and burrowing his head between.

She jolts back into reality, haven drifting into some kind of post orgasmic dream. His velvet tongue slides up through her cunt, finally having a taste of her, drinking all she has to offer. Wet and heavy moans shift from his lips to her slicked cunt, his whole body is pressing forwards, rebuilding the release. She’s choking on moans, the sensitivity is on the verge of pain, tipping past pleasure. The sounds of her cunt to his lips, his nose ridged against her clit, churning out a new rush, white hot and bathed in carnality.

“Yes, oh-h my gods,” her hands fumble, her form is numb to feeling, every nerve is retracting, drowning in the new burning coals and blackened skyes. It’s ruined daylight and broken stars. It’s only been seconds after the release, and another ones building. Hot tears threaten to escape, renagade and borne by exhaustion, sensitivity; and the Mandalorians not slowing down, sinking into her begs on the edge of sin, his tongue delves deep, flicking and curling around her bud.

She’s split apart, the half on verge of passing out, the other riled up, curling her leg around his shoulder, pushing him further and fuck she’s so close, pooling warmth and the rushed feeling of tightness, the burning coil taunt. Through the darkness, she’s wretched — faces of flowers coat her vision, blinking in and out, she’s lost off the world. It builds, stacking and mounting and she can’t control it. Shuddering, her spines arched and she feels chills climb the ridges of her bones — her thighs close tight, stopped by his rough hands, pushing her open but it’s too much, the fires alit and burning through her.

His mouth slants over her cunt, closing around in a wet kiss paired with slurred words, close to her slick the Mandalorians telling her to come on his tongue, that he’s got her, he’ll work her through it and then she’s suddenly shaking — pleasure rips through her form, unbearably shocked.

“Fuck, fuck, Mando —” she’s gasping and he’s addicted to her taste, sweet and sharp on his tongue, he’s breathing deep, his tongue slip against her core and he’s fucking her slowly through her release; she’s close to sobbing, the pressures releasing ever so slowly, the motions of orgasms bend and fade, twisted in her mind and body. Her hips pressed to the ground, keeping her still, large hands gripping, tight to her scalding skin.

His lips leave her, the urges come back.

The poison — cursed pollen, exchanged sinfully through their bodies, it’s not been purged, still thick in her veins and fogging her mind, she’s gasping for air as it locks into chest.

The Mandalorian feels it, somewhere deep and dark.

They’re right back at the beginning, her thighs ache and her hands feel numb, lips bitten red and skin coloured with marks, she’s an art form of desperation and need. Through the musky darkness, his hands find her body again, she’s in a daze, staring up at the red lights above them, watching them fade and glow. She floats back to the planet, back to the ship as his lips graze her neck, fresh with anew urge of ecstasy and hands smooth over her breast.

They’re going to be there for awhile.

feedback is always appreciated!

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loudsuitlover · 5 years ago

Text

Doctor Harry V Golfa

A/N: Smut And I think it’s the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written. I’M NOT OKAY AFTER THESE 9K WORDS

Harry: Strain

Harry: Just dinner 😊

I read his text messages as if they were going to change or as if reading them several times is going to change the way I feel about this. About him.

I still don’t think this is quite right. I know Harry says this won’t affect me or my studies but just thinking about what people would think if they found out makes me sick at the pit of my stomach. I’m not really a judgy person. Most of the time I just simply don’t care enough about what people do so as to even talk about it but I still have pretty high standards. Harry is not a woman. That’s something he’d never get. He’s so chill about this because he’s a man and he knows no one would give him too much shit about this but I’m a woman and I’m a student and I bet if people found out they’d say I was doing him to get a high grade instead of what would be more likely that he was taking advantage of me because I’m younger and a student like he said before. None of them are true but the second would be more legit to think about even though I know people would rather choose the first.

I walk inside the restaurant alone. I insisted on coming here on my own. I would be mortified if someone had seen us walking down the street in the middle of the city centre together. He chose a rather expensive restaurant. Not that I care. Moreover, this is good; students won’t be there. I hope that was the reason he did it and not that he’s trying to impress me because trying to impress me with money is really not a good idea.

A waitress walks with me when I tell her the name of my date. I bet she’s jealous and I bet she too is wondering why someone like him would ever want to have dinner with me. I don’t know either. He stands up from his chair the minute he spots us and he grins like a movie star. I have to swallow the lump in my throat.

“Fuck.” He grins.

His inappropriate language surprises me. It contrasts with the rest of it, with his suit, the restaurant, the expensive cloth over the table. I give him a look and take a seat before he can play the gentleman and move my chair for me. I hate when guys do that.

“You look breath-taking.”

“Thank you.”

I don’t tell him he looks incredible even though he does. I’m not sure when I got this attitude towards him but it’s like I can’t stop. I’m just waiting for the moment he starts laughing and tell me this was all just a joke.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” The waitress asks us.

“What would you like to have?”

“May I have a glass of Sanamaro, please?”

The waitress nods and turns to look at Harry but he’s staring at me. The green of his eyes makes me nervous and I’m afraid the shell I’ve been working on the entire day might falter this early in the night.

“A bottle of water for me, thank you.”

Water? He smiles at me.

“You look really pretty with your lips painted red.”

I give him a sincere smile.

“You don’t have to compliment me.”

The corner of his lips turn into a delicious smile and I think I might need some water after all too.

“I was just thinking out loud.” He shrugs. “And you also know about wine.”

I shake my head.

“My dad loves wine.” I tell him. “And my mum’s Spanish.”

“She is?”

“Yes.”

“Do you speak Spanish then?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Sí.”

I grin at his reaction. I don’t know why he’s so fascinated about this. It’s not like I told him I know how to build aircrafts. I’m just bilingual and it’s not really on me or something to be excessively proud of. My family is bilingual so I am too. That’s all.

The waitress appears with my glass of wine and a bottle of water she places between us and asks whether we’re ready to order the dishes. We haven’t even looked at the menu so Harry shakes his head and I open the black menu in front of me. He mimics me and I run my eyes over the different meals, deciding on something that doesn’t make my breath stink. I love food that makes your breath stink, like blue cheese and garlic and onion. I remember my Nana used to tell me ladies shouldn’t eat those things outside of home and I remember the garlic bread banquets the two of us would have every time I stayed over with them. I feel a smile making its way on my mouth.

“What did you want to ask me?”

God, he doesn’t waste time. He must see the surprise on my expression because he chuckles.

“I want you to have fun.” He explains. “I don’t want you to be thinking all night when you can ask me your question so let’s just start with that and then I can have dinner with chill Indie.”

I almost flinch. It’s clear to see he doesn’t know me much. There’s no such thing as chill Indie.

“But you have to promise you won’t leave when I answer.” He raises his eyebrows.

The waitress comes back to take our orders. I feel like she’s some sort of cheetah waitress and she’s been hiding behind a ficus waiting for us to talk so she can jump and do her job. I hope she gets a high salary. She doesn’t even speak to us. Instead she just stands next to our table waiting for us to speak. I wonder if the owner asks minimum contact between waiters and clients. Some rich people are that stupid. Harry looks at me so I order first.

“I’d have roasted wild sea bass with basil oil, thank you.”

“And that’s it?” Harry asks me and I nod. “Do you like cheese?” I nod again and he smiles. “I’d have the white truffle entrecot and we’d share the French cheese board, please.”

He ordered cheese for sharing. I think I’m falling in love. I don’t know to what extent he was joking when he said I’d have to promise not to leave after I get my answer and even though I decided, after a long conversation with Marie, that I can’t just pretend going out with my mentor is alright; I don’t want him to think I’m here for any other reason that me wanting to be here so I tell him just that.

“I promise but Harry, I’m here because I want to be here.”

“Good.” He grins. “Now go on, ask me.”

“How can you be so sure you’ll answer even if you don’t know what I’m going to ask you?”

“Just to be sure, this is not the question, right?” He jokes.

I shake my head and chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t think you were going to ask something I wouldn’t want you to know but now that you said that, I’m not so sure.” He chuckles nervously.

I bring my glass of wine to my lips and enjoy the familiar taste and then I change my question.

“Why don’t you drink?”

His green eyes stare into mine as he keeps quite for a few seconds. He could have simply told me he just doesn’t feel like drinking tonight and then I would ask him whether he didn’t feel like drinking the other night at The Chains either and he could have said no again and that could have been it; but his reaction makes it clear that he does not drink.

“Do you need to know that?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you need to know that so as to get to know me?”

I shrug.

“I guess not. It’s more out of curiosity than it is out of need.”

He nods as his beautiful green eyes get lost somewhere behind me. Beautiful green eyes? Who am I? Jane Austen?

“I don’t like it.”

I set my eyes on his. I like that he’s not afraid of answering my questions. I like that he’s so carefree as if he doesn’t have a problem letting me get to know him but I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable telling me things he doesn’t want to share. God knows I wouldn’t reciprocate with a secret.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

He breathes in.

“There’s nothing more to tell. It’s that simple.”

I nod. The waitress gets to the table with the cheese board before we can say something else. I swear this woman is the ninja of the tables. I chuckle at my own joke and feel my cheeks tinging pink just by thinking Harry would probably think that joke is so childish. I mean it is.

“I like your laughter.” He smiles. “I know you said I didn’t have to compliment you but I tend to say what’s on my mind so get used to it.”

“You’ll also tell me something bad?”

He drops a piece of emmental on his mouth and chews before he speaks.

“If I think it, yes.” He shrugs.

“Do you always do that?” I smile amused.

“What?” His eyes open in curiosity.

“Say what’s on your mind.”

“I mean, not always.” He laughs. “I know when to keep my mouth shut. Otherwise I wouldn’t have a job. But I don’t lie.”

“You never lie?”

He shakes his head smirking. He looks like a naughty kid. I instantly think if I were him, I would have said that out loud and chuckle again.

“You, on the other hand, don’t always say what’s on your mind.” He notices.

“Of course not.” I laugh.

“That’s why I’m holding back.” He smiles.

I take a breath. I don’t want him to hold him back. I think it’s funny when he’s so spontaneous and I envy him for that. I used to be pretty spontaneous too, according to those who loved me, but it’s been a long time since that.

“That’s a shame.” I smile. “I quite like it when you say weird things.”

“Weird things?” He chuckles, picking small pieces of cheese and bringing them to his mouth. “You said you liked cheese.”

“I do.”

“Then taste some.” He encourages me. “They’re really good.”

I study the board carefully. There’s camembert, brie, emmental, another type of pressed cheese I don’t know and two different blue cheese. I would gladly take one of the blue types, specially a little piece with too much blue on it to be Roquefort that’s calling my name but instead I wrap my fingers around a small piece of one of the pressed cheese and take a grape before pulling them both in my mouth. He's smiling at me in a way that makes me want to know what he’s thinking.

“What?” I talk with my mouth full making him chuckle.

“I’d want to kiss you even if you had that blue one, you know?”

My eyes widen and I feel the heat of the sun on my cheeks. He chuckles and takes the piece I was looking at before and places it on the corner of my plate the exact same second the waitress places it on the table.

I smile at him as I take the small bite to my mouth. I knew it was blue because it tasted like heaven. I think of my grandma and I think she would like him just by that little gesture. He might be more attentive that I give him credit for. Also, that stupid sentence has me wanting him to kiss me. I feel my mood lighten and grab another piece with another grape, probably to stop thinking about the kiss he mentioned.

“So you’re supposed to have them together.” He states.

I smile before I suck my lips inside my mouth and when I look back at him I catch him staring at my lips. I’m proud of myself for the choice of lipstick.

“I don’t know if that’s how you’re supposed to have them.” I seem to have nothing but smiles for him tonight. “But that’s how we eat them at home. You know in Spanish we say uva y queso sabe a beso.”

I can almost hear the air coming in through his nose as I say that. I think he really does like it that I can speak Spanish.

“It means grape and cheese taste like a kiss.” My eyes widen as my eyebrows raise on my forehead. It’s the first time I translate that to English. “It rhymes in English too.”

He chuckles. He seems to be having fun too.

“But does it?”

I shrug and look down at my plate before his green eyes put me under his spell. My phone starts vibrating uncontrollably on my purse. I wouldn’t normally check it but one never knows when David might try to kill.

“Sorry.”

Harry shrugs and shakes his head letting me know it’s okay but I just see that it’s The Golden Girls that are chatting and leave the phone on the table. After a couple minutes of silence on my part, I start receiving texts on the private chats and they pop on my locked screen.

Olivia: How is it going?

My eyes search for Harry’s but I’m met with a naughty smirk and eyes that look down at the table. He chuckles and my eyes almost bulge as I read Jason’s text.

Jason: What’s the size of his penis?

As fast as I can, I flip my phone leaving the screen facing the table and tack my hair behind my ear as I try to avoid to look into his eyes. He’s so nosy so I’m sure he read it. I’m going to kill Jason.

“You can pick up.” He says to my surprise.

“It’s not a call. It’s just texts.”

“Who texts you that much?” He smiles smugly. “You said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

It surprises me how much my mood can change when I’m with him. One second I’m playing tough, the other he breaks my walls and I’m all smiley and then he acts as if he own the place and I see the wall rebuilding itself all over again.

“If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t be here.”

He must sense the change on my mood because his expression hardens and his smug smirk is gone, but only for a moment because then he shrugs and his obnoxious smirk is back on his face.

“We said it’s just a dinner anyway. You could have a boyfriend and still have dinner with other people.” He shrugs.

“Do you say that because you have a girlfriend?”

“I’ve told you before I don’t have a girlfriend.” A smile breaks through his face as he’s trying to hold back laughter.

“Is the question funny to you?”

“Kind of.” He chuckles. “I’ve just never had a girlfriend.”

My eyebrows raise.

“Never?”

He shakes his head as he busies himself with his steak.

“Why?”

“I don’t have time. I’ve never had time for that, really.”

“Well, if you had a girlfriend you could be having dinner with her right now.”

“And instead I’m having dinner with you.” He smirks. “I don’t want a girlfriend anyway.” He shrugs. “Too many strings attached.”

“It’s a relationship, not a boat.”

I don’t know why it bothers me. It was clear he hadn’t asked me on a date because he wanted a girlfriend but then I don’t understand why he’d insist on going out with me. Does that mean he’s only interested in me because of my body? It’s not like I’m the hottest woman in town. I’m not even the hottest woman in this room. He must have some weird fetiche or something.

“Do you meet many women at the hospital?” He raises his eyebrows encouraging me to go on. “Like you met me, for instance.” I shrug.

“No.” He shakes his head.

I hate that I like his answer. He chews on his steak with his green eyes investigating me. His hair has fallen on his forehead and he’s staring at me hard. It’s fascinating how attractive he really is. Black shirts look so good on him too. I entertain my eyes with the way the soft fabric falls on top of his broad shoulders and how they move up and down with his breathing. It’s calming me to watch him breathe.

“You always get uncomfortable when we talk about this.” He points out. My eyebrows almost meet. “Are you seeing someone?” He presses. “Maybe he’s not your boyfriend but it’s enough to make you tense up. It’s okay, you can tell me, I’m not jealous.” He smiles.

What makes me tense up is all these questions. Sometimes it feels like I’m on an interrogation and all of a sudden he wasn’t a doctor but a FBI agent. I look away from him.

“I’m just trying to understand.” He defends. “Your mood changes pretty easily.”

“So does yours.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He defends. “I’m enjoying my time with you, except when you get all cloudy and push me away.”

“You asked me out because you wanted to get to know me, didn’t you?”

He nods.

“Well, this is me.” I shrug. He better understands that now before he creates this idea of me on his head.

“Okay.” He says.

My eyes move up from the table to his. He gives me a peacemaker smile and my eyes narrow as my brows look for each other on a scowl.

“That easy?”

He just laughs.

“Easy? Indie, you’re anything but easy.” He chuckles. “But that’s okay.” He shrugs. “Nobody’s perfect. You’re intelligent, funny and breath-taking. You get to be blunt.”

“What about you?” I challenge.

“What about me?”

“What are your flaws?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know you.” I shrug.

“You don’t need to know me to tell me what you think of me.”

I think you’re out of this planet. Way too much for me. Smart, interesting, handsome as fuck, attractive, sexy, funny, bold… And smug and confusing.

“I think you’re a liar.”

He frowns. I have to fight back a smile. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Why?”

“Because everybody lies and someone who says they don’t just mean they’re already lying.”

“I could have easily lied to you when you asked me why I didn’t drink.” He points out. “And I didn’t.” He shrugs. “Yet I agree with you. Most people lie, but I don’t.”

I nod. I don’t know why I believe him. I know it’s impossible not to lie ever but I believe he says mostly the truth. I look down at my plate and to my surprise I’m sad to realize it’s empty. I look at his. It’s empty too.

I’m afraid this is the end of the night for he was very clear when he said it was just a dinner and those were the conditions and I have lectures tomorrow at 8 am anyway. I look at him questioningly as he stands up.

“We didn’t ask for the bill.”

“It’s already paid for.”

“What?” I frown. “No.”

He frowns.

“We’re splitting.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Why do you never let me pay?” I remember the drink he payed for me on the Chains on Friday.

“Because there’s no need. I can pay for my own food.”

Had I known he was going to pay, I wouldn’t have ordered such expensive wine and dish.

“I know but you’re a student and I work. It makes sense that I pay. Plus, I was the one who asked you out so I’m paying. Next time, you ask me and I’ll let you pay.”

Next time, huh? I let the smile take over my lips. I’ll admit that was good and I chuckle when he elbows his side with his hand on a fist in celebration that I allowed him to pay.

“And this is when my alcohol-free lifestyle comes in handy.” He says as he escorts me outside playing with his car keys on his hand. “I’m taking you home.”

He probably said that because I kept staring at him but I was just lost on the ink of his chest. It’s pouring rain when we get outside and he curses under his breath. I don’t know why I like it when he curses. It’s not like I’ve never had a sailor’s mouth before but there’s something about the way his voice sounds around the word fuck that’s got me biting my bottom lip.

“Okay, you wait here. I’ll go get the car and pick you up right here.”

“But where did you park?”

“It’s just down the street.” He shakes his head. “But it’s pouring rain. You’ll get soaked.”

“Nonsense.” I shake my head.

The street is just one way which means he’d have to drive around the entire block to come get me.

“We can run.”

He’s smiling carefree with his eyebrows raised as he stands up next to me. I feel his eyes carelessly roaming my body and stopping at my breasts on their way back up my face.

“Can you imagine how you’d look with that shirt wet? I wouldn’t be able to get it out of my head.”

I’m wearing a white silk blouse tied around my neck with puffed sleeves and a black mini skirt. He’s right. If this gets wet he’d get stuck to my skin and my nipples would take his eyes out. My mouth gets dry as I imagine what he would do to me then. I don’t know why it is so erotic to think about us two under the rain, the wet silk stuck to my skin until he unties the knot from my neck and massages my breasts before he brings them to his mouth and wraps his pink lips around my nipples and-

I must have given him the look because his eyes drop to my mouth and I’d swear his breathing has gotten worked up. My eyes drop to his Adam’s apple as he swallows. My lips part. I wonder if his kisses taste like grapes and cheese. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

A group of people walk out of the restaurant in a drunken conversation. They’re pretty hobbled as they walk on zigzag. I wonder how much money they spent on wine in there. One of them stumbles and almost falls on top of me so I step backwards and my back collides with Harry’s chest. I try to gain my balance back so I can move away when his hands snake around my waist and pull my body closer until I’m pressed against him. I feel his arousal against my buttocks. My mouth goes dry when I notice he’s hard.

“Do you want me to take you home now, Indie?” I feel his hot breath against my ear.

“We… We said” I pressed my hips against his so as to make sure his hard on is real and he grunts “we said just dinner.”

“But we didn’t have dessert.” He whispers. “And I can think of something I’d like to eat.”

His hand slowly travels from my waist to the lowest part of my belly and I rest my head against his shoulder, resting my weight on him. He hums on my ear.

“You smell so good, Indie.” His voice is lulling me into a frenzy.

I feel my body heating up and all I want is to tangle my fingers on his hair and turn my face so I can kiss him.

“You always smell so good.”

I press my bum harder against his front. We’re already alone, standing on one of the walls on the stairs in front of the restaurant, but I don’t even trust my legs for walking right now. I can feel myself embarrassingly wet. He grunts when I move my hips again.

“Indie.” I’m gonna think about the way he whispers my name for weeks.

“Take me to bed already Harry.”

I don’t have to say it again. I feel his jacket on my shoulders and I look down at my arms as his hands slide down the fabric until they reach my hands. He connects his hand with mine and removes his body from mine before he starts walking urgently towards his car. After a couple minutes walking I spot his black SUV. He opens the door for me and just stands there under the rain until I’m settle before he closes the door.

His hair is wet and he’s almost trembling when he gets behind the wheel. I want to blow hot air on his hands to keep him warm but he doesn’t even look at me. All of a sudden, he seems to be deep in thought, but he looks so sexy. Being wet like that, with droplets falling from his brown locks to his forehead and his black shirt stuck to his skin and a thin layer of rain water covering the skin of his face… He looks even sexier than I have imagined before. I place my hand on his shoulder and feel him relax under my touch. His eyes are blown away when he looks at me.

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

I frown at his request. Before I can take control of my own actions my eyes drop to his crotch. He’s still hard between his legs so I don’t know where this is coming from.

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I won’t say that.”

He grins and his eyes drop to my mouth once before he fastens his seatbelt, tells me to do the same and starts the car.

“You never do what you’re told, do you?”

I don’t answer that question. I try not to. Javier was so controlling. He used to tell me everything I had to do, what started as a domination-submission relationship in bed ended up being a dominating relationship outside the bedroom too. I remember he used to tell me what to do and then punish me with orgasm denial if I didn’t do what he had told me. Orgasm denial can be a turn on, Lord knows I know that, but trust me, it isn’t when the orgasm never happens. I shiver as I remember those times he left me crying on the bed after he had cum himself. Javier was such a bastard.

We reach his apartment in about fifteen minutes and all dark thoughts of Javier leave my mind the moment he grants me with an excited smile. I don’t know why he looks at me like that but somehow he’s making me feel as if I was the one in control here even though he’s the older one and probably the one with more experience. I’ve only had sex with two guys before. I wonder how many girls he’s fucked.

He walks before me as we make our way towards his apartment building. It’s a dark grey building, wide and manor. We walk through a grey stone path surrounded by two forecourts of green grass and everything is so cute I hear both our shoes clicking against the floor. He opens the glass door of the vestibule and greets the doorman as the man presses the lift button for us. Harry places his hand on the low of my back and gently guides me inside the lift and that’s the first time he touches me since he pressed my body against his at the door of the restaurant. He presses the sixth button and stands silently next to me.

Part of me wants him to press the stop button and push me against the wall and kiss and suck my neck as his hand pushes against my sex and plays with me but instead of reaching out to him I stand still, with both hands on either side of my body. This lift ride feels like the longest I’ve ever taken until finally his hand reaches out for me. His fingers caress mine until he has my hand in his and he gently tugs until I collide against his chest.

“Come closer.”

I feel his breath against my skin as I look into his eyes. He’s staring at me as if he’s never seen a woman before and there’s something about the way he looks at me that has me feeling different. He looks at me as one looks at a painting in a museum and I see his eyes tracing my skin, looking at my chin and my temple and my nose. Why isn’t he kissing me yet?

He still holds my hand when the lift door opens and he guides me towards the second door to our right. The door is dark grey again against pearl grey colour walls. He turns on the light and lets me walk along the grey hall that seems to end on a white cleaned kitchen. Right in front of the door, at the end of the hall and the apartment itself I can see a wall length glass window with the curtain up. I stop when the wall on my right ends.

At my right, I can guess the living room behind the kitchen bar. It’s dark and he hasn’t turn on the lights but I can see a couch before big wall length windows that spread both sides from a white column on the far corner of the area where a long rectangular dining table sits. I turn around searching for him and find him staring at me, very quiet and very still. He’s still wet and only then I realize so am I.

“Do I look like an otter?”

He laughs out loud at my question.

“Is that why you haven’t kissed me yet?”

“You look extraordinary.”

We speak at the same time but I only hear him. His amused smile, remnant from his laughter, turns into a devilish smirk as he places both hands on my hips and finally pushes me against the wall. I press my shoulder blades against it and focus on controlling my breathing as his hand snakes under my skirt and he gets the fabric up caressing my left thigh.

“As always.”

Our breaths mix together against my lips. His hand is cold against my skin and my body reacts to his touch with a shiver. I place both hands on his chest, my fingertips resting on his shoulders, as he tacks a strand of hair behind my ear with his other hand. His eyes drop down to my chest and he smiles. I know he noticed how worked up he’s gotten my breathing and I get frustrated with how calm he seems to be as he leans down. His lips brush against mine as he speaks.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

I nod even if he didn’t ask for permission and then I feel his lips pressed against mine. The hand on my thigh moves to hold my left hip as his smooth and tender lips bring mine to life and he holds my face with his other hand. I feel his fingers on the side of my neck as his thumb rests against my right cheekbone. I have to suck in a moan, he’s such a good kisser… But I finally let it out when he divides my lips with his tongue. I feel him smile against my lips.

“I’ve been thinking about this all fucking month.”

His forehead rests against mine and I don’t want him to stop kissing me but his confession makes my stomach do somersaults. This time I’m the one pressing my lips timidly against his but when he reciprocates slowly but passionately, I let my fingers wander against his jaw until my right hand caresses his scalp and I tangle my fingers on his hair as I’ve been wanting to do since I met him. My hips have a mind on their own as they press against his and I do it again when I feel his hot, hard excitement against my belly. It’s flattering to feel his desire. He moans on my mouth as I keep pressing my hips up against his. I almost perch up to him but he lets me do what I want with his body.

I feel his right thumb caressing the skin over my hip bone and my breathing catches in my throat when his fingers trace their way against my thigh towards my sex. I rock my hips against his hand, silently signalling him to go on and finally his fingertips caress my throbbing sex against the thin fabric of my pink transparent underwear and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my throat.

“I see you’ve thought about it too.”

He smiles devilishly against my lips and my fingers move back to his shoulders so I can hold myself up when my knees go weak. His fingers keep caressing my lower lips barely adding any pressure and I gasp against his lips as he grins. He then goes on with his delicious torture as his lips press against my cheek and then the spot just below my ear before he licks and bites my neck. His knuckles caress my groin and I don’t know why he hasn’t gotten his fingers inside me yet. I can’t wait anymore.

“I’m waiting…” He explains as if he could read my mind.

“What for?” My voice betrays me in a moany tone and I feel him grin against my neck.

“For you to admit you’ve thought about it too.”

His other hand moves from my back to my front, setting my skin on fire on the way to my breast before he cups it against my blouse. I feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head as I rest it against the wall.

“So have you, Indie?”

His raspy voice is driving me crazy as his fingers carefully pull from the elastic of my panties.

“They’re stuck to you.” He whispers. “Are you that wet?”

“Find out.” I manage to utter.

My breath catches in my throat when he presses his hips further against my body, pinning me against the wall as he grins at me. I want to run my tongue all along his pink lips, now red from kissing.

“Tell me.” He licks my mouth.

“Of course I’ve thought about it.”

His fingers slide under the fabric of my underwear as if I found the right password and he collects my moisture with two fingers and spread it against my swollen clit. I bite my bottom lip and feel my face contorting from pleasure. My nails pin against his shoulders.

“You’re fucking soaked.” He grunts. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes.” I pant.

“You pushed me away.” He circles my clit slowly. “You rejected me when I asked you out but now look…” I moan when he curls two fingers at a time inside my cunt. “A proper mess with my fingers in your pussy.” He bites my chin. “You like it?”

“Yes.”

I shut my eyes as he kisses and sucks my neck while his fingers move in and out of me. His thumb presses circles against my clit and I’m very aware of all the clothes we still have on. I am pathetically lost in my own pleasure but I want to feel his hot skin against mine so I let my hands wander down his chest until I reach the buttons and start undoing them. I caress his bare chest and stomach before I grab his neck with one hand and push his mouth to mine to devour his lips. He grunts against my lips and his fingers fasten on my hole.

“Harry.”

He growls and bites on my bottom lip.

“Harry.” I repeat and he hums questioningly. “Please.”

“Please what, Indie?”

“Please” I don’t know what I’m going to say. I just know I want “More.” I pant. “I want more.”

I love the way he looks at me with eyes blown away. I press my lips against his hungrily and I roll my tongue with his. I want him desperately and he lets me have his mouth the way I want. I don’t know why he isn’t doing anything. Any other guy would have pinned me against the world and drilled deeper into my pussy already but he seems to be blocked. Right when I’m about to say something, his fingers start moving faster and I have to hold onto him for dear life. He must notice my loss of balance because he slides his thigh between my legs and pins me against the wall, holding me in place and fucking me with his fingers until I feel my walls clenching.

“Are you going to cum like this?” He asks.

“If you keep doing that yes.”

He chuckles and his movements down there stop. My eyes open widely but I can’t barely see. My pupils must be blown away. He removes his fingers from my cunt and presses his thigh hard against my entrance as he brings his hand to his mouth. I can see my shinny juice on his fingers as he sticks them inside his mouth and hums as he sucks them clean. He takes them out of his mouth and swallows.

“Fuck, you taste amazing.”

I feel my walls clenching. Is it possible to have an orgasm with words? I’ve never been told that. I don’t know where to look. I miss his thigh against my legs for a second before he presses his hardness on the spot he just left. He’s rock hard so my ego is restored. He wants me too. He stares at me as he presses his hard on against my sex again, taking pleasure in the effect his actions have on me.

“I want to have my mouth on you but I’m gonna explode.” He confesses.

“Fuck me, Harry.”

With un unsuitable calm from his previous actions, he presses his lips slowly against mine as his hands find a home on the lowest part of my back and he starts walking, guiding me backwards towards what I assume it’s his bedroom. His hand grabs my ass and I feel him smile against my mouth.

I snake my hands under the fabric of his shirt and caress his toned arms before we let it fall to the ground and then his hands find the button of my skirt and he undoes it, slowly unzipping it too before it falls to the ground around my feet. He grabs my hands and places them on the waistband of his pants and I follow his silent instructions as I unbutton and unzip his jeans. His fingers find the silk bow on the back of my neck and undo it as I jerk his pants down his legs. His hands caress the hem of my underwear and the lower part of my belly before he grabs the hem of my blouse and I lift my arms above my head for him to take my blouse off. He lets it fall next to our feet, leaving me on just my pink set of underwear, completely exposed to him. His hungry eyes roam my body up and down and before he touches me again, he runs his fingers through his head and puffs.

“Damn.”

Large hands hug my bare waist as he pushes me gently onto his bed. My body, hot and naked, falls on top of a fluffy soft cold quilt but before I can get cold myself Harry leans his body over mine and my legs instantly spread apart making room for him. I feel his hands rougher than mine caressing my skin and leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches. His right hand holds part of his weight over me as his left one searches for my right knee, wrapping my leg around his waist as he caresses my thigh, squeezing my bum when he reaches it.

I’m amazed at how fast and naturally the mood has changed between us. I don’t know which Harry I like more, if the rough and passionate one that just touched me a moment ago or the slow and torturous lover that seems to be taking his time with me now. My mouth misses his as he leaves kisses against the skin of the side of my neck and my sternum. His knees press under my thighs as he holds his weight while he runs his tongue along the soft skin just above my bra. My fingers comb his hair whilst his pull my bra down, freeing my breast before his lips wrap around my nipple. He licks and sucks on it before he opens his mouth and nibbles on my flesh right before giving the exact same attention to my other breast.

My brain has finally stopped and everything I can think about is Harry and the way he smells and the way he moves and his hands on me. For the first time in I don’t know how long, my only worry is whether to keep my eyes opened so I can see him and record very second of this on my mind or whether to let them shut and go by what I’m feeling. He signals his way kissing my skin up from my chest to my mouth and I caress his front until I reach his underwear. I feel his arousal, wet and hot and heavy, through the thin cotton and he hiss.

“Don’t” He seems to have as much trouble speaking as I’m afraid I’d have if I tried to say something right now “don’t touch me much or I’ll finish before starting.”

I smile at his sincere confession and cup his face instead, bringing his mouth to mine as I kiss him passionately. I am over the moon with the way he seems to be worshipping my body. If I could think straight, I’d question the entire thing for how is it possible that someone like him seems to be so out of it because of my body? I’m nothing compared to his perfection.

“I’m so hard for you.”

He presses his arousal against my dripping entrance once so I can feel it and I feel my pupils dilate. I can barely make out shadows as he sucks a spot underneath my jawline.

“Can I have you now?”

I hope my eyes can transmit him everything I can’t say. I let my tongue dive inside his mouth and tug at the hem of his boxers hoping that’s enough for him to know I want him now. He lifts his hips helping me get his boxers down and his hard on springs free against his stomach. I reluctantly remove my mouth from his so my curious eyes can take him in. He’s shinny and tight and huge. My breath catches in my throat.

He doesn’t know I’m more inexperienced than I lead on. Javier was rough and we had lots of sex, it was basically all we did, but he was always on charge and I basically just had to let him do what he pleased and he was way smaller than Harry is. He must sense my doubts because his fingers grab my chin and makes me look into his eyes.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

I frown and instead of arguing, I bring my hands between us and take off my underwear, exposing myself to him. He presses a flood of kisses against my cheek and whispers on my ear.

“We’ll go slowly.” He assures me. “And, Indie, if you want to stop, just say it, okay?”

He cups my cheek and stares into my eyes, making sure I agree, he must be aware of his size and then he pecks my lips a few times before he removes his body from mine. I panic.

“Where are you going?”

My hands snake around his body desperately and he chuckles as he looks back at me. He’s leaning over me towards the drawer of his nightstand and when he comes back between laughter he presses soft kisses against my cheeks and the tip of my nose holding a small foil package between his fingers.

“Clinging onto me like a koala bear, eh?” He kisses me. “Not going anywhere, love.” His pet name ignites fireworks on my stomach and chest. “Just grabbing a condom.”

I nod and kiss him deeply feeling him smile against my mouth.

“Indie, it’s not that I mind but… You’re not a virgin, are you?”

I feel my cheeks heating up. I’m afraid my body would inevitably go into shutdown because of the change in the blood flow. I can’t even look him in the eyes, I’m so embarrassed.

“No.” I frown.

He presses a single kiss between my eyebrows and I feel a fingertip trailing a line on my skin from my jawline to my sternum.

“But it’s been a while.” I confess.

“We’ll go slow.”

Kissing me, he leaves the condom on my hand and asks me to put it on him. I hold the package close to my face between us and rip it open, getting the condom out and bringing my trembling fingers to his hard dick. I appreciate the opportunity he gave me to stare at him and I take in his red tip, dripping precum and my mouth waters. Before I roll the condom down I let my fingertips caress his soft skin and feel him hiss and fight for breath above me. My curious fingers explore the wet shinny pink end and he grunts.

“It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles nervously and I roll the condom down his stiff flesh. Once he’s covered, he shifts his hips down until I feel his tip dancing over my entrance and I spread my legs farther for him. When I think he’s finally going to thrust inside me, I feel his hand snaking underneath my back and unclasping my bra. His fingers carefully grab the straps and he removes it from me. His chest moves up and down, asthmatic, as he stares at my bare breasts.

“You’re gorgeous.”

I read his lips more than I heard him because his voice came out almost silent but other than focused, he seems conflicted. I caress his cheek and he leans his head on my palm.

“What are you thinking?”

“It’s very hard to think with you naked under me.” I chuckle at his confession. “But… I also feel like… You’re this delicate thing and I could… I don’t know, break you.”

His words take me off guard but they seem to have a direct line with my heart that reacts to him even before my brain catches on.

“Well” I move my hips against his making him hiss at the contact of our sexs “I mean you’re big but I think I can take it.”

He laughs. Once again I’m surprised at how our moods change in seconds because then he grins devilishly at me.

“I’m sure you can.”

A soft chuckle escapes his throat as he leans above me and brings his soft mouth to mine. He starts by pressing his lips against mine in open mouthed kisses that drive me crazy and then his teeth tug on my bottom lip before he lets go and his tongue dives inside my mouth. His kisses are delicious. His hand glides down my arm until he intertwines our fingers and places my hand on the back of his neck.

I feel his hot hard on against my lower lips and the anticipation of being connected with him is driving me crazy. Harry’s lips crash against mine harsh before his forgiving tongue soothes me. There seems to be a disconnection between his hard mouth and his soft caresses that makes me wonder whether his thrusts are going to behave like his lips or like his hands. My legs wrap around his waist and my heels pull him closer to me but he smiles against my mouth and eludes my entrance. He’s enjoying this sweet torture.

He pulls back so that his green eyes long into mine and he chuckles at the look I must be giving him. I hold his stare. I don’t want to miss a single thing when he stretches me open. His length is stroking my swollen dripping lips when he starts rocking his hips over me. My sex throbs and he grins triumphally as I watch him jerk back and forth each time sending a high frequency energy current to my belly.

“Harry” I whine completely out of my mind.

He slips his hand between our bodies and I feel it between my thighs but he keeps moving on top of me with that wide grin on his face.

“Harry, for the love of God, I can’t take it any-

My words are cut short when I feel his tip stretching my entrance. And even though it goes in easily due to the embarrassing amount of moisture I’ve collected, my walls instantly clench on their own accord and he stops.

“Fuck.” He clenches his teeth. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod my head feverishly. “Don’t stop, Harry.”

He readjusts his forearm on the mattress next to my head and holds my hip with his fingers as he slowly glides out and thrusts inside me again. I carefully watch his expression. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are parted but when he thrusts inside me a third time, he bites them.

I feel him stretch me beyond believe and I’m afraid I might exhaust myself before starting but to my surprise it doesn’t hurt at all. Instead I feel like I’m out of my own body, like there’s some force inside my chest that’s trying to get out of me and it searches for an exit all along my body, all the way from my chest to my fingers and to my toes and then it goes up my throat and tries to get out with a moan.

“Fucking hell, Indie.” He grunts.

He’s moving in and out of me deliciously slowly and I don’t even know where his hands are or where mine are. Everything has turned into a soft, wet mess and all I can hear is his panting and his grunts and my own moans and whimpers. I only manage to keep my eyes opened for seconds but when I do I see him staring at me, green wide eyes blown away. I want to touch him, I want to bite him and run my tongue against the blood red skin but I can’t do anything but gape and try not to choke on my own breathing.

“You like it slow, Indie?”

He speaks on my open mouth as our breaths mix and I can do nothing but stare into his eyes. He curses under his breath as his hand cups my face and he never stops his movements. His never leave mine.

“You can’t speak, can you?” He chuckles. “Can I go faster?”

I hold his face and eat his mouth as if I was trying to suck some of his energy. Bravely I press the low part of my back against the mattress, lifting my hips and finding a new angle for him to go deeper and hit that spot I’m craving.

“Go faster.” I finally manage to whisper on his mouth.

He grunts as he begins to thrust faster and I moan too because he seems to move faster each time until the bed is shaking and we’re both panting. I thank God he lives alone because I can’t control the volume of my breathing and I think I couldn’t keep quiet if I wanted to.

“Indie” He sighs “I’m so close.”

I feel the tension building up on my stomach as his words.

“Don’t stop. Go harder.” I beg.

“What?”

“Harder, Harry.”

I shove my hips against his hoping he understands what I want and he does because for the next thrusts he’s drilling me against the mattress and we both sink against the quilt every time he shoves against me. He’s grunting and panting on top of me and my hips search for him before I pull back helping him with our frenetic rhythm.

There it is. A moment of whiteness. I lose conscience for a few seconds and I don’t see and I don’t hear anything right as my whole body concentrates on one single point and I myself am one single point, very small and very hot, and then I feel myself realising and letting go on top of him.

“Fuck.”

Harry drops his head on my shoulder and I feel his length twitching and throbbing inside me while he empties himself on the condom. I hear his worked up breath on my ear as we both focus on calming down to come down from our highs. I love the feeling of still having him inside of me as he softens.

“Fuhhh” He lets out through his teeth on my ear “You were so tight.”

I chuckle as he rolls off me and presses a kiss on my bare shoulder before he lies down next to me. I turn my neck to the nightside table on my side of the bed and entertain my eyes with the picture he has but I feel my eyelids heavy and I finally let them shut. I hear Harry asking me whether I’m asleep and I let out a grunt but I’m too tired to give him conversation now so he chuckles. I then feel him lifting my body so he can open the bed and cover my naked body with the duvet.

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fanfictionaries · 5 years ago

Text

Better Than the Movies Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X female reader

Summary: After Bucky essentially rocks your world, he decides that the best way to continue your introduction into the world of seduction is by making you wait. WAIT. When you finally decide that you just can’t take it anymore, you decide to give Bucky a bit of his own medicine only for it to backfire in the most amazing way.

Words: 5k

Warnings: Swearing, smut, NSFW/18+ only

Author’s Note: This is the longest, smuttiest thing I have ever written. I really hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

***

It had been a full week since your encounter on the couch. A long, grueling, entirely frustrating week and it was all James Buchanan Barnes’ fault. You shouldn’t have been surprised honestly, after his long speech about passion, it would make sense that he had decided to torture you. Boy did he know torture. After your little tryst in the compound’s living room, he had stopped you from going any further. In the moment, you had wanted nothing more than to rip every last stitch of clothing from the god-like man, but he had other things in mind. He had decided to make you wait. WAIT. If he hadn’t absolutely rocked your world the first time, you would have washed your hands of him by now, but alas he had and so here you were going absolutely mad.

Of course, the week of waiting wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t spent the whole time teasing you. Slowly. Methodically.

It had started lightly. A brush of the hand here. A palm to your lower back as he passed you in the hallway and the kitchen. A touch of his knee to yours as he sat next to you on the couch and at the dining room table.

Then it progressed.

A gentle tug of your hair at the nape of your neck when no one was looking. A whispered “You’re so fucking sexy” during your mission briefs. A casual quip of “Your ass is driving me crazy” as you dipped low into a squat in the gym.

And then to top it all off, there were the texts.

The man had never texted you before now. You were halfway convinced that he didn’t even know how. Apparently, you were very wrong. Early morning, late at night, middle of the day. It didn’t matter. Your phone was constantly buzzing, each message dirtier and raunchier than the last. The man grew up in the 40s, where on earth did, he learn how to talk like that? Did people secretly talk like this back then? You had certainly never been spoken to like this.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you walked swiftly down the hall. You had just come out of a meeting with Fury about some upcoming missions and were headed towards your room to change before a training session with Natasha.

Bucky:

Can’t stop thinkin’ about that hot little body of yours baby doll.

You felt your cheeks warm and shook your head at the pet name he had decided was yours, before entering your room.

Buzz.

Bucky:

I bet your little pussy is just soaked for me. Isn’t it?

That was it. He couldn’t keep doing this to you! If he was going to continue teasing you all the while refusing to touch you, you were going to give him a dose of his own medicine. Marching into the bathroom, you quickly stripped down to your bra and panties. Taking a moment to fuss with your hair and makeup, you opened the camera on your phone and snapped a few pictures in the full-length mirror. After assessing the array of pictures, you finally decided on the most risqué of the lot. You were on your knees on the bathroom rug, length spread apart and hip cocked to the side. Your (Y/E/C) eyes stared sultrily into the camera as you bit firmly onto your lower lip. Your hair, falling slightly over your face and pushed over one shoulder, revealed the slipping bra strap on the other. The mix of black lace and white cotton that made up your lingerie set, gave you a nice combination of sexy and innocent that you hoped would drive Bucky absolutely crazy. However, it wouldn’t drive him nearly as crazy as the most important aspect of the picture – your left hand dipping into your panties just so.

With a smirk, you hit send and put your phone down, dressing quickly for the training session you were now late for. When you’d managed to make it all the way down to the gym without hearing anything back, you felt a sense of pride fill your chest. That certainly managed to shut him up.

“Took you long enough!” Natasha called from across the gym.

“Sorry! My meeting with Fury ran late and then I had something I needed to take care of really quick,” you apologized, setting your things down on a nearby bench.

“You know this means I’m going to have to take it hard on you today,” said Natasha, crossing her arms.

You laughed, “You were planning on going easy on me?”

“Well…no. But now, it’s double time. I want to see you sweat!” Natasha clapped her hands, and you got into gear, beginning the first part of your training circuit.

An hour later, your head was locked between Nat’s thighs, face pink and fighting for breath. Reluctantly you hit your hand twice on one of her thighs, tapping out.

“Damnit!” you exclaimed, sitting up as Natasha released her hold on you, swiftly standing to her feet to go again.

“Don’t beat yourself up too bad (Y/N),” said Nat, “You’re actually doing really well.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it when you’re kicking my ass every time.”

“Well that’s not your fault. I’m just better than you.”

You looked up at the red head with contempt, making her chuckle and raise an eyebrow at you.

“Come on (Y/N). Get your ass up and let’s go again. I’m getting a little tired, so maybe if you take some of that sexual frustration out on me, you’ll win.”

Your blood ran cold at the comment. No one knew about you and Bucky, “What sexual frustration?”

“Well you haven’t been on another date since you got stood up last week, so I’m assuming you haven’t found anyone to rock your world like some hunky movie star,” Natasha quipped.

“Hey, (Y/N),” you heard the voice of Sam call from across the room, “your phone is buzzing like crazy over here! Who is texting you this much?”

You looked over at him in confusion and then horror as you watched Sam reach down and pick up your phone from its spot on the bench, “Wait! Sam don’t!” you called, standing quickly. But it was too late.

“Whoa!” Sam yelled, dropping your phone in surprise, “Penis! That was a penis on your screen (Y/N)!”

You groaned and started to run towards your phone before anyone else could look at it, but it was all in vain. Nat was across the room, with your phone in hand before you had even made it halfway.

“Well done (Y/N). Apparently, you have found yourself a man,” said Nat scrolling through the messages, “and he’s hung like a horse and has quite the imagination.”

“Nasty. You are nasty (Y/N). You too Natasha,” said Sam, shaking his head and the both of you.

You finally reached Nat’s side and attempted to pull the phone from her hands but she was too quick, “How do you know the password to my phone Nat?”

“I know everyone’s password,” she responded casually.

“Wait, what?” said Sam, turning to her.

“Not important right now Sam,” said Nat, “What is important is who this mystery dick belongs to.”

“Nat, please don’t,” you tried once more to grab your phone as dread filled you.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Nat.”

“Bucky?!”

“Hold on,” said Sam attempting to look at the phone in Natasha’s hand now, “Did you just say Bucky? Robocop? Metal man? No, that can’t be. It’s bigger than my—”

“Enough!” you exclaimed, finally snatching the phone away and grabbing the rest of your things, “I have to go.” You ran from the room as fast as you could, the faint sound of Natasha telling you to have fun and Sam’s outrage disappearing as you distanced yourself. You entered the closest bathroom you could find and locked yourself in a stall to catch your breath before opening your phone.

Sure enough, there in all its glory was Bucky’s member standing proud. And proud it should be. If the length alone didn’t intimidate you, then the girth certainly did. He was easily thicker than your wrist, prominent veins running down the sides from the base to the thick tip. Fuck, the head alone looked like it would barely fit inside you.

Tearing your eyes away from the picture, you saw the string of messages that followed it.

Bucky:

Okay baby doll, you wanna’ play?

Bucky:

You want this cock?

Bucky:

Come and get it.

Bucky:

My room. Thirty minutes.

Bucky:

I want you naked in the middle of my bed on your knees by the time I get there. Friday will let you in.

Holy shit. It was happening. It was happening and…you only had 20 minutes left. Fuck. You all but sprinted from the bathroom and towards your room. Like lightning you threw off your clothes and stepped into the shower, not even waiting for the water to warm up as you washed away the sweat and grime from your workout. Once you were freshened up enough, you threw on a fluffy robe, not bothering with real clothes as Bucky’s room was only two doors down from yours. Like Bucky said, the door opened for you when you tried the handle and then you were there. You were in Bucky’s room. The faint sound of a shower running told you exactly where he was. For a second you contemplated joining him, but then you remembered his instructions. You shivered, crisp air brushing your skin as you took off your robe and walked towards the large bed. It wasn’t until you were on your knees in the middle of the bed, that you fully grasped the situation you were in. You were really going to sleep with Bucky. Your best friend. The man that had been the center of all your thoughts and dreams for the past week. The man that had already brought you more pleasure than you had ever experienced before. You closed your eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths.

“Now that is quite the sight,” the deep timbre of Bucky’s voice sent electricity coursing through your body and you opened your eyes to see him standing near the bathroom door. You watched as he sauntered into the door, slowly and casually, with nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. Small rivulets of water traveled down his sculpted chest, some catching in the patch of dark brown hair that speckled his chest and others traveling all the way down to his waist where the towel sat. You licked your lips involuntarily, wanting so desperately to lick those drops of water up.

“Like what you see?” asked Bucky, catching your eye and bringing you out of your thoughts, “I certainly like what I see.” He approached you like a wolf stalks its prey. Predatory. Powerful. Frightening. You watched as he got closer, extending a hand to ghost over the skin of your ribcage before coming up to cup one of your breasts.

“Look at how turned on you are baby doll. Your nipples are rock hard,” his thumb lifted and grazed the tip of your nipple causing a small whimper to escape your throat. He smirked at your reaction, swiping his thumb again, this time firmer before bringing it between his thumb and forefinger to pinch lightly. You bit your lower lip, attempting to keep your composure instead of melting into a giant puddle of goo so early into the night.

“Now, now,” Bucky released your nipple and reached up to pull the lip from between your teeth. “The only thing I wanna’ see in this pretty little mouth of yours is either my fingers or my cock.”

You gasped, recalling the picture he had sent you earlier and wondering if it would even fit in your mouth. Maybe. Definitely not all the way, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to try.

“Oh, you like that? You wanna’ wrap these pretty pink lips around my cock baby doll?” asked Bucky, gripping your chin and tilting your face up to look him in the eye.

You nodded desperately as you stared into his beautiful blue eyes. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost in those eyes and never come back. He laughed softly, taking a moment to scan your face. He seemed…pleased.

“Maybe next time. Right now, I want to take my sweet time making you cum over and over again. Does that sound okay with you?” Bucky raised his eyebrows, the way he asked the question so casual you would have thought he’d just asked you if pizza was alright for dinner.

“Yes. Please,” your voice was faint and needy, but you didn’t care. You would let this man do anything with your body at this point. Just as long as he actually did something.

“Good girl,” Bucky whispered huskily before leaning down and connecting his lips to yours gently. He took his time seducing your lips with his, coaxing them into a slow and languid dance as he climbed onto the bed as well.

His hands were like fire and ice as they caressed your shivering body. You reached out, finding stability on his bare shoulders. Your right hand traveled over the expanse of cold metal to gently trace where metal met flesh. Bucky gasped into your mouth, his body going rigid. At first you thought you’d done something wrong, overstepped a boundary. But then he was reaching up with the same metal hand and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“You trying to drive me crazy baby doll?” he asked, pulling your head back.

“Maybe,” you answered coyly, hissing at the delightful mixture of pain and pleasure his hand in your hair was giving you.

“Too late. I’m already gone,” Bucky confessed, his left hand traveling down your sternum, ribcage, stomach, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week. It’s like your everywhere. Your eyes. Your pretty little smile. Your breasts. I’ve been hard all week thinking about you. You know how difficult that’s been for me?”

“I have some idea.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” he quipped, his fingers delving into your folds. He let out a low groan when he felt the sheer amount of arousal. “Fuck. You are soaked baby doll.”

“Bucky. Please,” you pleaded. You didn’t have to explain any further. He knew exactly what you needed. His hand began to lovingly caress your folds, spreading your wetness around before inserting a single digit into your tight passage. You both moaned at the sensation, you in pleasure, him in surprise by how tightly you gripped him. He claimed your mouth again as he fingered you, making sure to curve his finger to rub along your front wall. He continued to rub, changing angles and positions as if he were searching for something. You quickly learned exactly what he was searching for when his finger made contact with a spot that made you see stars.

“Yes!” you cried, reaching down to grip his wrist, hoping to god he never stopped.

“That the spot baby doll?” Bucky slowly slid his finger out before adding a second and finding that special spot again, this time making contact with both fingers. You cried out again, gasping at the sheer pleasure of the act. This went on for a little while. Him slowly stroking your walls while he kissed you into oblivion. Then his fingers did something you’d never experienced before. Quickly he pulsed the pads of his fingers against that spot deep inside you, almost in a come-hither motion. The act caused a pressure to begin to form deep in the pit of your stomach and panic started to form in your chest. It was almost as if you had to…

“Bucky. Stop. I—”

“It’s okay doll.”

“No. I need—I think I need—” You were going to pee. You were sure of it.

“Trust me doll. I got you.”

You gripped his shoulders tightly, feeling the pressure build in a sweet yet foreign way. You clenched your abdominal muscles, trying to fight the urge. It was like your body needed a release, but you weren’t about to embarrass yourself by wetting his bed.

“Stop fighting it doll. I can feel you fighting it. Relax. Give into it. I got you,” said Bucky through gritted teeth, his fingers picking up speed, thrusting against your walls at an almost inhuman speed. So fast and rough that you had no choice but to give into him and then, you were lost. The pressure building in your abdomen reached its peak and you were cumming. Cumming harder than you’d ever cum before in your life.

“Fuuuuuck, yes. Yes, baby doll. That’s it,” growled Bucky, trusting his fingers in and out of you as your vision began to go white and then black. Your body went limp, falling backwards only to be caught by Bucky’s left arm. Softly, he lowered you to the bed as his right hand continued to stroke you down from your high.

You came to in time to see Bucky extract his fingers from you and bring his soaked hand up to his face. Wrapping his lips around his fingers, he tasted you on them with a low moan. It was around that time that you became fully conscious of what had just happened. Sitting up in a panic, you looked between your legs to see a large wet stain on the center of the bed.

“Oh my god. I—”

“Squirted. Fuck baby doll. I thought maybe I could get you there eventually tonight, but I barely even had to touch you and you were gushing. That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen. I mean, I haven’t even touched your clit yet. I—” Bucky was rambling as he looked at you in awe, “I have to taste you.”

You let out a yelp of surprise as he pushed you onto your back and dove between your legs. His hands gripped your thighs tightly and you were about to protest about your inability to cum again when his tongue made contact with your clit. You cried out, your hips raising and your hands threading into his long hair. It was…oh my god it was…indescribable the way his tongue flicked and swirled around your swollen bud. You gripped his hair tightly in your hands as you moaned and yelled in ecstasy. It felt inhumanly amazing, but there was no way you could cum a second time, right? You’d never been able to cum more than once before. Wrong. Before you knew it, the familiar coil was beginning to form in the pit of your stomach and your breathing picked up speed.

“You gonna’ cum again already?” asked Bucky, his hot breath on your pussy sending shivers up and down your spine, “I think you are. You have no idea how deliciously sweet this pussy is. Can’t believe I wasted so much time teasing you when I could have been feasting on this tasty little kitty day in and day out.”

You moaned at his filthy words, your hips grinding against his tongue, searching for purpose. Then his lips were around your clit and he was sucking. The suction sent you past the brink and over the edge in seconds as you came for the second time that night. The endorphins coursed through your body. While your first orgasm seemed to suck the life out of you, your second was like touching live wire. Every nerve in your body was alive. You sat up, pulling Bucky away from your center and on top of you. You kissed him feverishly, desperately. Tasting a mixture of yourself and him. You couldn’t get enough as you nipped and licked and sucked his full lips. Reaching down, you pulled the towel from his waist and found what you had been craving this past week. He hissed as your hand wrapped around his hard member, your fingertips not quite meeting around his thick girth. You stroked slowly, up and down.

“I swear to god Bucky, if you aren’t inside of me in the next two seconds, I am going to lose my mind,” you said desperately, your voice gravelly and hoarse.

“Fuck baby doll, okay. Let me grab a condom.”

“I’m clean and I’m on birth control. If you’re clean, then I’d much prefer to feel you.”

“Shit—Fuck—Yea. I mean, yes I’m clean,” Bucky finally said, laying over you fully before lining himself up with your center. He ran the tip of his cock up and down your folds, gathering your wetness before pushing his head past your entrance. You both groaned at the sensation. The sweet sting of the stretch was euphoric as he filled you in a way, you’d never thought possible. It felt like an eternity as he slowly worked himself inside you. It was like he went on forever. Just when you thought there couldn’t possibly be any more of him to fill you, he kept going. When he was fully seated within you, it felt like he took up every square inch inside of your body. It was all encompassing. Overwhelming in the most delicious way. You breathed heavily looking between Bucky’s face and where the two of your joined. The sight alone lightyears beyond pornographic.

“God baby doll, you are so fucking tight,” Bucky panted, his lips parted as he too stared at the place where you connected. Bringing his gaze back up to you, he locked eyes with you. The emotion that you found swirling behind the light blue pools made your heart catch in your chest. He looked at you like you hung the fucking moon. Like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Let me know if I hurt you at all. Okay? I want this to be good for you.”

You stared back, feeling something deep in your gut that felt like…no that was ridiculous. Was it? You’d never felt more beautiful than you did right now, caged within Bucky’s strong arms as his large member pulsed inside of you and he looked at you like he’d give his life for you.

“Okay. I will,” you responded, only able to find the few simple words in the swirl of everything you wanted to say to him. But you liked to imagine that he could hear the weight of everything you hadn’t said hanging in the air.

“Okay.”

Bucky lowered his head to kiss you, delicately and lovingly as he withdrew until only his head remained seated inside of you. Then, firmly, he thrust back into you. The sensation of his bare cock inside your pussy, stretching you, caressing your walls was almost more than you could handle. His thrust began to pick up speed. The sweet push and pull combined with the sound of skin on skin filled your senses. Everything was pleasure and euphoria and Bucky. So much Bucky. Inside of you. Around you. On your skin. In your mind.

It wasn’t long before his hips were swirling and dipping in faster and erratic patterns. Your hands clung to his back, nails digging in deep as you felt the pressure and coil begin to build and tighten in your core for the third time that night. Impossible, you thought. Your mouth was everywhere, kissing his lips, his jaw, his neck. You sucked and nipped the delicate skin, absolutely positive that he’d be covered in dark, purple bruises by the next day. Switching his weight over to his left arm, he reached down and started to circle your sensitive clit.

“I need you to cum again baby doll,” he said, his voice husky and needy.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Now be a good girl and cum all over my cock baby. I know you want to. I’m so close baby. I wanna’ feel you cum all over my big hard cock as I cum inside you. You want that baby? You want me to cum inside you?”

The combination of his voice, his words, and his fingers on your clit was the tipping point for you. You came, pulsing around Bucky as your body convulsed in pleasure. Your hips moving on their own accord. You chanted his name over and over like a prayer, wanting the feeling to go on forever. In the midst of your ecstasy, your heard Bucky growl out your name as he pumped into you harshly, his warm seed filling your channel.

You both laid there, breathing heavily as you came down from your highs. In the moment, you couldn’t help but let a little giggle slip past your lips. Giddy with pleasure. You were literally giddy with pleasure. After a moment, Bucky followed, laughing softly with you as you looked at each other. He placed a peck to your lips before sitting up and pulling out of you. You gasped at the sensation, surprised by just how empty you felt without him inside of you. Watching Bucky stand from the bed, a skip in his step as he disappeared into the bathroom, you contemplated all that had just happened. However, the only thing you could come up with was the fact that you were happy and incredibly satisfied. Bucky returned a few seconds later with a wet washcloth. He took the cloth and reached between your thighs, cleaning you gently as you exchanged shy smiles. The intimate act was so sweet and caring, it made your heart clench once again. Once he was finished, he tossed the cloth aside and laid down beside you, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. You lay there in comfortable silence until you finally spoke up.

“So, I take it you liked the picture I sent you?”

Bucky laughed, “I think that’s an understatement. Although I’d have to assume that you also liked the picture, I sent you.”

“I think that’s an understatement,” you repeated his words back to him cheekily, and then you remembered, “Ummm, speaking of pictures. There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What baby doll?” Bucky asked sleepily, pulling you in even tighter.

“Well, someone may have gotten to my phone before I could and they may have seen the picture,” you cringed as you waited for his response. It was silent for a moment before he responded.

“And who might this someone be?”

“Nat.”

“Okay, that’s not too bad.”

“And, Sam.”

“What?!” Bucky sat up a little to look down at you, his eyes wide.

“If it makes you feel he was really jealous when he found out it was yours. Apparently, you’re bigger,” you scrambled, hoping he wasn’t too mad. Bucky stared at you for a moment before bursting out into laughter once again. He laid back down, his chest shaking as he continued to chuckle to himself.

“You’re not mad?”

“Nah baby doll. I couldn’t possibly be mad at you after that,” said Bucky kissing the top of your head again, “Now let’s get some sleep. You’ll need to recharge, because when you wake up, we’re going again and this time I’m not going easy on you.”

“That was easy?!”

“Hey, you were the one that said I was better than the movies.”

Taglist:

@ladifreakingda

#betterthanthemovies #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #marvel #avengers

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fivescuddles-blog · 6 years ago

Text

fantasy | betty cooper (smut)

a/n: I’m so sorry this took so long ah! I’ve been really busy lately but I hope you like it! this is honestly the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written wow

requested: "It is now my job to have all the gay female bottoms out there literally die. So Reader is the bottomest of the bottoms and is also a Serpent who acts all tough and serious but one day she's very silent and that's because she can't get her head out of the gutter after she saw Betty in her mechanic clothes and um...Reader just grabs her and kisses her after the race and the smut ensues? Anyways, could you make reader just a teeny tiny but short than Betty. I SOJSJWNWKWKAKSIIDJDW YOU🐙👀🌈" - @lilistolemyhart

characters: betty cooper x fem!reader, veronica lodge, archie andrews, jughead jones

word count: 2,113

summary: reader's a bit hot and bothered after seeing betty in her mechanic uniform and therefore, betty decides to help her out ;)

warnings: VERY detailed wlw smut, a LOT of swearing

Her hands glided smoothly over your skin, her gaze inviting.

“What do you want me to do to you, hm Y/N?” She smirked, staring into your eyes, her teeth tugging at her deep red lips.

You moaned breathlessly, squirming as you felt her touch on your inner thigh, hiking your skirt up your leg.

“C’mon baby, use your words,” Betty whispered into your ear, her breath tickling your lobe.

You were finally able to choke words out. “T-touch me,” you murmured, snaking your arms around her neck and pulling her closer. She responded immediately, her hands going straight to your waist, gripping you firmly but softly, her soft hands feeling like silk against your hip.

“My pleasure,” Betty giggled as she began to leave small hickies down your neck, her fingers inching towards your core.

“Y/N? You okay?”

A voice brought you out of your fantasy, making your freeze in your tracks. Betty stood by the side of you, looking at you intently yet worriedly. “You good? You seem… distracted,” she stated, reaching a hand towards your shoulder. You immediately pull back.

“N-no!” You say, jerking back slightly. You cursed silently in your head. “I-I mean, no, I’m fine.” You smile weakly up at the blonde, forcing back the blush that you felt settling itself on your cheeks.

Betty faltered, bringing back her hand quickly. “Oh… if you’re sure then,” she muttered before shooting you a quick smile and walking a bit faster to catch up with Cheryl who was a couple of paces ahead.

You sighed silently to yourself, shaking your head at your idiotic fantasies. It wasn’t like you were a very sexual person, you were actually quite innocent… most of the time. It was Betty. She just… did something to you. Made you think the dirtiest thought no matter what situation you were in. And ever since your interaction with her earlier, you knew you would never be able to talk to her normally again.

It was a couple hours before the race and you’d been talking with Jug about the whole thing with the race, you personally believing that it was a bad idea. Eventually, you’d left him, rolling your eyes at his stubbornness before walking out into the garage. And what you saw would be present in your head for weeks.

It was Betty. Only it didn’t look like the usual Betty. In this particular situation, she was wearing some denim overalls with a really light pink t-shirt underneath. A very not-Betty outfit. But my God, did she pull it off.

You were speechless to be perfectly candid. You’d always though Betty was beautiful, hot even, but this made you see the blonde in an entirely different way. Her long blonde locks were pulled back in a messier ponytail than usual, her forehead glistening with sweat as she wiped her face with a tartan flannel. Oil stained her shirt, streaking her forearms as Betty traded her screwdriver for a wrench, kneeling down by her toolbox. A few strands of a hair were framing her face, flat against her sticky skin. Which only made you think of other ways you could get that girl sticky.

Of course, you tried to play it off, acting like you weren’t even phased by what you saw. But you were no actress. Betty knew what you had been thinking of and boy, did she have some tricks up her sleeve.

Throughout the entire match she did everything she could think of to provoke you. She flirted with Ronnie, pushed Cheryl’s hair back behind her ears, hell, she even bent down in front of you to retrieve some “dropped” item or another. But, this honestly had the opposite effect that she wanted. She expected you to be begging for her at this point, wishing for her to be between your legs. But you stayed wilfully silent, averting your eyes whenever she came into your vision. It wasn’t hard to notice what she was doing and you were determined not to let her get away with it that easily. But to be perfectly honest, people were beginning to get sick of all the sexual tension between you two.

“Listen Y/N, if you wanna fuck Betty, you should just get it over with and save all of us the trouble of watching you two flirt like you’re on your honeymoon,” Veronica teased you, quirking an eyebrow as she waited for your response. Though your response never came.

Before you could open your mouth, Jughead and Archie came zooming over the horizon, coming into vision. It was soon learnt that police were coming to the scene soon. Panic ensued.

Betty quickly jumped into the car with Jughead and Archie, reaching out her hand for your to join her. The four of you were soon speeding down the road, desperately trying to get away from the scene before the cops came.

“That was way too close, man! Why didn’t you tell me?” Jughead complained, attacking Archie with his words.

“Because I knew you’d try and stop me!”

“Duh, because it was a stupid move!”

You and Betty exchanged a look as they went back and for, their biting words filling the car. It wasn’t long before Betty finally spoke up. “Hey, guys. You can just let us out here.” She smiled as you came to a stop outside of your house.

“You sure? We can drop you off at yours, Betts,” Jughead offered, clearly still irritated at the ginger sitting beside him.

After insisting that she was fine, yourself and Betty exited the car, watching as the two sped off, leaving the two of you under the scorching heat of the summer sun.

Betty turned to you with a suspicious smile on her face. “Sooo… aren’t you gonna invite me in?” She smirked, hands on her hips.

Your breath caught in your throat as you nodded lightly before letting the both of you into your house (after fumbling with the key for quite a bit, getting nervous under her stare.) You both stayed in silent for a while, soon ending up in the living room, sitting down on the sofa. Not gonna lie, it was kinda of awkward.

You honestly couldn’t take the silence anymore. A blush gathered on your face as you took a deep breath, trying desperately to pluck up the courage to make a move. That was until, you felt a soft hand caress your own, taking your hand out of your lap and holding it gently. Your head shot towards the girl sitting next to you, disbelief evident in your eyes. “Betty, I...” She smiled at you, squeezing your hand in hers.

Your lips collided with hers, a collision of passion and tongues. You melted into her, feeling her kiss back immediately, snaking her hands around your waist, your own flying to the back of her neck. Her lips moved roughly against yours, deepening the kiss and soon pushing you down onto the sofa, straddling you.

“You think I didn’t notice? Huh?” She muttered breathlessly, trailing harsh hickies down your neck. You whimpered. “Yeah? You think I didn’t notice you staring at me all day today? Hell, you’ve been staring at me for months, haven’t you?” She smirked, her hands slowly dragging down you body, her soft touches tickling your sides. “I bet you got wet from just making eye contact with me, hm?”

You were shocked to say the least. Who knew that sweet Betty Cooper was such a dom behind closed doors.

“Answer me, love, c’mon,” she coaxed, biting your lip as she went back to attacking your mouth. “Use your words,”

“Y-yes!” You were finally able to push out accompanied by a breathy moan.

Betty giggled. “Aw, you’re such a dirty girl… Let me guess, you got a mechanic kink? Hm? You like seeing me all dirty with oil and sweat, yeah? I wonder what the sweat reminds you of...” she teased, beginning to unbutton your shirt, ripping it off along with your bra. “Oh love, you’ve got a pair on you,” she gasped, latching her mouth on one of your puckered nipples before you could get a word in.

A breathy moan left your mouth. “Betty! Oh fuck, what if my- my parents get home?” You uttered, pulling her closer by her smooth shoulders.

“Well the, they get to see what a-” Lick. “-dirty-” Kiss. “- girl their daughter is,” she smirked, pulling back from your chest. She then pulled her attention towards your legs, which were pressing against eachother tightly. “Let’s see how wet you are for me, my love,” she said as she hiked your skirt up your thigh.

Delicate fingers were soon invading between your legs, dancing over your underwear before plunging underneath it. Your back lifted from the sheets as you sighed, feeling her fingers breach your pussy.

She moaned possessively. “Fuck, Y/N/N, you’re so fucking wet for me, babe,” she whispered into your ear. “What would you usually do when you’re this wet and you have no one to relieve you, hm? Do you touch yourself?” You screwed your eyes shut, a dark blush settling on your cheeks. “You do, don’t you? Wow, you’re such a dirty girl… Now, the real question is… do you think of me when you touch yourself?” She continued, biting the lobe of your ear in a teasing manner as her fingers plunged themselves inside your core, making you moan lowly.

“Y-yes, Betty! Yes, oh fuck,” you respond, gasping as Betty’s fingers pleasured you.

She chuckled, pulling her fingers out from your pussy and drawing a disappointed groan from you. But that soon changed as she ripped off your underwear, gazing at you in the eyes as she did it. “Is this what you think of? Me fucking you senseless? Burying my face into that sopping wet pussy of yours?” She laughed as you nodded desperately, scrabbling at her arms. “Beg, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes in embarrassment, humiliated after her seeing your so desperate. “Please, Betty, I… I need you,” you murmured, clenching your legs together tighter.

“Louder, babe. Where, hm? Where do you need me? Describe in detail what you want me to do to you, Y/N,” she stated, staring you down with though intense green eyes. “Or you won’t be getting anything.”

“O-okay! I… I want you to-” You averted your eyes, your face now a deep red as you reflected on your situation. Lying on the couch completely naked with a fully clothes Betty Cooper, the girl you’d had a crush on for months. About to be fucked senseless. “I want you to fuck me, Betty. I want you eat my fucking pussy like the d-dirty girl I am,” you finished, you cheeks glowing in shame as you looked up at her.

The pride in her face really made it for her. The familiar smirk appeared once again on her face. “My pleasure, babe,”

And with that, she buried her face between your legs, licking and tongue-fucking your core. A loud moan left you as you felt her working your clit, softly biting at your labia and around your pussy lips.

“Fuck, Betty! Ah, ah shit!” You let out, your hands intertwining with her blonde locks, gently pushing her further between your legs. You felt one of her hands leave your thigh as she moved it between her own, fingering her clit over her underwear. This only made the pleasure increase for you, watching the girl you liked getting off on pleasuring you.

As her moans increased so did yours, feeling a hot pool form towards the bottom of your stomach.

“Betty. Fuck, Betts, I’m close,” you gasped, your back lifting off the bed slightly involuntarily, giving Betty a much better angle to continue fucking you with all her will. “Betty… Ah shit, you’re so fucking good at this, oh my goodness,” you praised as you got closer, your grip tightening on her hair. “Betts, I’m gonna come… fuck, oh fuck, Betty!” You exclaimed as you let go, a wave of pleasure flying through you all the way to your fingertips. She helped you though your orgasm, yours bringing on her as she moaned between you legs. The aftershocks began to come down, the two of your completely exhausted after the events that had unfolded. Betty finally gathered the strength to pick herself up, slowly and gently pulling you towards her chest, holding you as she fell back onto the pillows of the sofa.

“We should do this again,” she giggled as she felt you slowly drift off into a slumber, her eyes soon closing as well.

Let’s just say, your fantasy definitely came true.

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