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#taste cadets
brokeandfamouseu · 7 months
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TASTE CADETS // 2024
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poisonandpages · 5 months
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My sister has a really high drug tolerance and she's trying these new edibles. So for the past couple of days she's been taking 1-2 at a time, feeling nothing. They're meant to be slow release but she claims she's not felt anything at all. So she took 4 this morning expecting just a little high at most, but after she got dressed I had to help her from the floor to the couch and she's spent the past 3 hours giggling at literally everything. So 3, 3 is the best number for her to take. 😂
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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months
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[Mihawk prefers to keep work and his private life separate. On one rare occasion when these two have to comingle, Mihawk is rather upset at the attention you attract.]
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When Mihawk said "It will be just a moment, my dear", you didn't think the issue would take more than half an hour. Yet here you are, two hours after he had left you in a fussy lounge in the back of Midnight Grove...
...and not a Dracule Mihawk in sight.
You let out an exasperated sigh and take another sip of your mai tai. The band is playing yet another song that sounds vaguely identical to the previous one. Similarly, the mob of other patrons seems to be merging into one, murky background of blurry figures in your eyes. Being used to the peaceful yet refined companionship of Mihawk, the aura of Midnight Grove is beyond unbearable.
Mindlessly playing with a coaster featuring a howling wolf, you don't notice a Marine cadet approaching you.
"I'm afraid I have to arrest you, my lady."
The unexpected and, frankly, unwelcome comment makes you look up from the devilishly fascinating coaster. Your eyes fall on a well-built man with long hair and a smug expression. The glint in his brown eyes makes you tense up in discomfort.
"Excuse me?" you ask him, not understanding the meaning behind his words.
The cadet gives you a bad parody of a flirtatious smile. "You look too beautiful," he purrs out.
You can't help but laugh. Somehow, you're undecided whether his pick-up disgusts or amuses you or maybe both. Perhaps his audacity forced a laugh out of you - the ring on your fourth finger is neither modest nor simple. Considering how the large gem in the golden band shone in the low light of the Midnight Grove, even a blind man could tell from a mile away that you are anything but single.
"Anyone waiting for you at home?" he continues his rather poor attempt at flirting.
With a casual flick of your wrist, you toss the coaster on the table. Feeling both curious and entertained, you decide to play along - for now, at least. "Why are you asking, sailor boy?" you question before taking another sip of your drink. The ice has melted and the diluted drink now tastes mostly of old freezer.
"He must be mighty jealous about you. And considering the gold you're wearing," he makes a point of staring at your cleavage, "a millionaire, too."
"Oh, this?" You look down at the necklace of jewels and pearls. A memory flashes before your eyes, suddenly remembering Mihawk's face, barely visible in candlelight as he clasps the jewellery around your neck, telling you sweet things only men in romance novels tend to say. "Yes, it's a gift from someone. I'm sure you know him," you tell the Marine cadet in a casual tone, already imagining how hilarious his face of terror will be when he realizes whose spouse he's been trying to woo. "Tall, yellow eyes, a rather large sword and...
"Awfully annoyed at your impertinence, boy."
The low, guttural voice laced with withheld anger makes both of you look away. There, standing right behind the cadet, is Mihawk himself. Part of his large physique blocks the scarce lighting, making him look significantly more insidious. In the twilight of the Midnight Grove, with fury burning in his eyes, Mihawk appears closer to a demon than a man.
Although the room is dark, you can clearly see the way the cadet's blood draws from his face and the way his eyes are suddenly bigger than an owl's. He scrambles to his feet, almost falling off his chair. Then, muttering apologies and promises of better behaviour, the young Marine runs off only to disappear in the crowd of Midnight Grove's patrons.
Mihawk's eyes follow the youngling for a moment.
"I should have him strung up and killed," he says more to himself than you.
"Or," you speak up, a playful smile curling your lips, "you could sit down, have a drink with your beautiful wife and gloat about the fact that you're the only man to undress her."
You might just be a witch because the change in his demeanour is instant. There is still something wild in his bright, yellow eyes but it's not bloodthirst or anger anymore. You notice how he glances at the ring and the necklace, admiring his own signs of "ownership". One would think they're big enough to send the message. Alas, some people just refuse to receive it.
"You have me convinced," Mihawk says as he sits down next to you.
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paperultra · 1 year
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space cadet.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 831 words Warnings: None
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reverie (noun): a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream
You imagine the thoughts in your head as a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea: dense, beautiful, brimming with life and all too easy to get lost in.
They’ve caused you trouble in the past. Countless rapped knuckles, letters sent home to your parents, walking into trees on the way home from school. But how could you resist? Empires rose and fell over the course of an hour inside your mind, mighty beasts swore their allegiance to you and the four seas were yours to explore. The childhood you had in the real world was so dull and lonely in comparison.
When you ran off and joined the Straw Hats, you finally had the excitement you had so craved. And yet, even now, your mind still wanders.
“If you swab the deck any more, we won’t have any left, sweetheart.”
Only a select few can bring you back.
You blink rapidly, the clouds dissipating as you stop scrubbing and look up. Sanji’s already smiling when you meet his gaze.
He lifts his hands; one offers a plate of shortbread cookies, the other a glass of milk.
“I’m going to guess that you haven’t had a break in a while,” he says. “Am I right?”
A break? Sending him a perplexed frown, you lean on the handle of your scrub brush and glance over your shoulder.
The side on which you had started winks back at you from afar, wood gleaming under the afternoon sun.
Oh.
“I … I guess so,” you reply slowly, turning back to him. It’s only then that you register the saltwater washing over your feet and the ache in your muscles. “I didn’t even realize …”
He shakes his head and chuckles, leading you to some nearby crates to sit down. “Too caught up in your stories again? I’m almost jealous that they get to spend so much time with you.”
“I don’t mean to make you worry.”
“Loving someone means worrying about them from time to time.”
He winks, and you smile, flustered.
“I see,” you say quietly. “Then thank you for worrying, Sanji.”
“Of course.” He hands you the glass of milk, then picks up a cookie and taps it against your lips. “Now, this is my best batch of sablés. You have no idea how hard it was to keep Luffy from eating them all in the kitchen.”
“I have some idea,” you drawl amusedly, taking a bite.
The cookie breaks with a gentle snap. It crumbles delightfully in your mouth, sugar and butter dancing on your tongue. A pleased hum rumbles in your throat before you wash it down with a gulp of cold milk.
“What do you think?”
“I think I might eat the whole plate right now,” you say, taking the other half of the cookie.
He grins. “So you like them.”
“They’re delicious.” Picking up another one, you hold it in front of his face. “Here.”
Sanji’s gaze remains locked with yours as he leans forward to take a bite of the cookie, his lips brushing your fingertips in an impromptu kiss before he pulls away. He chews thoughtfully. The action should not look as good as it does.
“My best batch, as I’ve said,” he tells you once he swallows. “But I’ve tasted sweeter.”
You tilt your head. “Where?”
His mouth curls into a smirk, and he places his fingers under your chin to bring your face closer to his. Your noses touch and you can feel his answer against your lips as he murmurs, “Right here.”
The rest of the crew may also have the pleasure of eating Sanji’s food, but they do not share your privilege of knowing just how talented he is at kissing.
He sets down the plate and lifts his hand to cup your jaw, meeting your lips and letting out a soft sigh before pressing his lips more fervently against yours. You can taste the smoke on his tongue, a constant underneath the warm sweetness of sugar and the saltiness of butter. Your eyes flutter closed, and you reach up to cradle the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly. The groan he lets out sends tingles down to the tips of your toes.
“Sweetheart,” he pants, and the longing in his voice would’ve made your knees buckle if you were standing, “I won’t be able to stop if you keep doing that.”
You put your glass of milk down so you can bury both hands in his golden hair. Your forehead touches his. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Maybe it is,” he mutters.
You bring him back in for another searing kiss that Sanji returns just as eagerly.
Yes, you value your time alone with your thoughts. They are a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea, beautiful, countless, and wild.
But as easy as it is to get lost in your thoughts, it is infinitely easier to get lost in him.
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arminsumi · 1 year
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HI JAY can i request accidentally getting armin hard?🤭 straddling him during something odm related for whatever n bro gets bricked up to the high heavens n youre both so shy n flustered BUT YALL GOTTA FUCK ATP
needa feel you
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🔞 minors shoo / n.sfw / smut / 18+ content
note: ooh i love love love this !! fits armin perfectly 🤤
warnings — dirty talk, d!ck visuals, light begging, unprotected sex, creampie, creaming, prec*m, u and him being horny
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you were just demonstrating to him a better hip shifting technique to go faster, and the poor boy blushed up to his ears. searing. hot. red. he started stuttering so badly he felt like he was a boy in the cadets again.
and when armin gets hard? god damn he gets hard. throbbing. hot. his juicy tip presses tight against those already tight white pants, the outline looking so good you wanna tug those pants off and take him into your mouth.
when you smile at him after noticing his hardness, he sputters apologies. " fuck, i'm sorry, haha. i-i don't know what's the matter with me, sorry. uh, sh-shit well don't move like that or you'll make it worse. "
" it's — okay. i don't mind. it's... natural, after all. " you speak slowly, nerves tingly. " wh - y... why don't we take care of it so we can get back to practicing more positions — uh, combat positions, you know. of course. "
his eyes widen, the whites showing around those pretty blue irises. you just completely flustered the poor boy.
but those eyes become lidded when the two of you end up with your bodies intertwined, sweaty and noisy and panting, fucking like two bunnies. it's all because of how you grinded your hips on his pelvis so erotically earlier.
feeling your plush thighs engulf his sides made him beg like a dog: "needa feel you, needa feel you so fucking bad please please please let's just d-do it here." he panted, kissing you like a lust-crazed teenager. as soon as you breathlessly nodded, he unfastened his belt — not bothering with taking off all his gear... that's just too much effort. so you fuck half-clothed, and it drives him wild. he's always eyed out the way the thigh belts squeeze your skin and make plush dents.
he's high on lust, head spinning. min's so dizzy from the feeling of your soft walls clenching tight around him, hugging his pretty, veined cock. you're milking out all his precum, creaming so much that a white wring forms around the base of his cock and he can feel it.
you feel and taste so sweet to him, it's too much. he has to stop thrusting every now and then just to catch his breath. and when he does that, his dumb fat tip digs into your favorite gummy spot, his length unmoving. his happy trail hair subtly grazes against your tummy as he keeps himself as close as possible to your body.
" that's so good — so good — so good so good, you feel so fucking good. s-ooo fucking good, baby ! " he pants, vocals straining and brows kneading together.
his body tenses up, muscles flexing and sweat dripping down the contours of his physique.
" don't stop, please don't you fucking stop, 'min. gonna make me cum. " you speak and shiver when he starts up those sloppy strokes again.
your head goes empty, body goes numb on pleasure; how can it feel this insanely good? min's falling apart under your influence. when he cums, he blurts out some surprising things.
like a chant of " i love you i love you i love you — i fucking love you ! " right as he fills you to the brim with his creamy release.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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factorydefaultlu · 1 year
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Bounty Girl 2
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Koby x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5k
Contents: soft smut
Part One
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For months, Koby remains on your mind. You keep thinking about how his lips felt, and how he tasted on your tongue. You're curious about his surgery scars and if what you felt was correct. Koby being trans wouldn't affect how you feel about him, not in the slightest. He seemed so nervous about you finding out though, back in that cell block.
You had guided your crew into a port town. As your crew docks on the outskirts of the harbor, your heart skips a beat as you catch sight of a familiar Marine vessel from the corner of your eye. You see the insignia of your beloved cadet's division on the hull, and another piece of you comes back to life. A piece that you only ignited when you were alone in your cabin.
You smile to yourself, making plans to visit the bar on the waterfront that night, hoping that Koby would be there. You decide to spend time in the town without your crew for the day, wanting to see if fate will once again lead you back to your marine's embrace. As you leave the docks, you hurry over to the most popular bar, the whole port is bustling with marines and you hope to whatever God will listen that you aren't caught again.
You enter The Watering Hole, just as the sun is setting. There's a decent mix of people in the crowd. Traders, merchants, fishermen and plenty of marines. You scan the mess of people for a familiar face, and your heart stutters when I catch a glimpse of pink hair. Koby's sitting at the bar with another marine, a blonde with an awful haircut. You move to take a seat at a table in the corner where he won't notice you. Your eyes soak in his appearance, he's gotten a bit leaner in the months that have passed.
The bar is busy this time of night, but your eyes are set on your target. You watch as Koby chats with the other marine, his expression and body language relaxed. He smiles and laughs along with the man, and you feel a pang of jealousy in your stomach. You scold yourself for your childish thoughts.
You continue to admire him and notice that although he's gotten leaner, he's also grown in many ways. His eyes seem to sparkle more, and there is a confidence to his demeanor. He still looks like the same Koby that you remember, yet something about him feels... transformed.
You watch from across the room, feeling the heat in your cheeks as your heart flutters.
His tie has been loosened and he sips from a glass of what looks to be beer. He talks casually with his friend, his smile making your stomach turn. He could light up a whole room with that smile, and yet he doesn't seem to know just how handsome he is. You finally build your courage and flag down a waitress. You order Koby a drink and tell the waitress to let him know it's from you.
You keep watching him talk so excitedly with his fellow marine. It's refreshing to see him happy, and it makes your mind go back to the first day you met.
As the waitress leaves an icy cold beer in front of Koby, you watch his mouth form an expression of confusion. The waitress tells him that the drink is from you, and Koby looks around the room before his eyes find on you.
He stares wide eyed, not quite believing that you are actually here again. You give him a cheeky smile and your heart jumps.
He stares back, the look on his face a mix of confusion, disbelief, and surprise. His eyes go back to his glass of beer as he takes a sip, and you wonder what thoughts are going through his head.
He glances back, the look on his face softening slightly as he sees your expression. He slowly stands up, saying something to the marine next to him and moves across the bar to the table where you are sitting.
He stands in front of you, his gaze fixed on yours as he tries to understand the situation he is placed in. "You've... you've come back?"
"Don't look so shocked, pretty boy. I told you we'd meet again, didn't I?" You look up at him, he's as handsome as ever and you can't control the smile that spreads on your face
He stares down, his heart racing as he takes in your face again for the first time since the day you escaped. You're even more beautiful than his imagination could ever hope to conjure, and he feels the butterflies dancing in his belly.
"W-Why have you come back?" He asks, his voice no more than a whisper. "I thought... I thought that might have been the end of it."
He can't help but flush as he looks down at you, his mind racing with the possibilities. There's hope in his gaze, but also a little fear.
I shrug a bit, glancing down at the table. I can't form a proper answer, at least not one that isn't just "I wanted to"
"I'm not sure, I guess… I just wanted to see your face again."
Your words are barely audible, but they hold a world of meaning to your beloved cadet. The sound of your voice sends a thrill through his soul, and he can't help but stare as he tries to understand why you have come back.
"I can't believe you're here," he whispers, "I thought that I would never get to see you again."
His gaze sweeps over your features as if making sure you're real. You realize that you didn't actually say goodbye, but you also haven't said hello again either. Your relationship feels as if it hangs in the balance.
You reach your hand up and grab his wrist, you notice a few marines staring, and you quickly turn away from the crowd. Hiding your face with your hair.
"I'd love to keep chatting, but your coworkers seem to have noticed us. If I book a hotel room, do you promise to meet me there?" You let go of his wrist and looked up at Koby with pleading eyes. You feel so childish for being so enthralled with this man you barely know and met in a prison cell.
Koby looks down at you with a mix of surprise and shock. "You want me to meet you at a hotel?"
His voice is filled with excitement, and he seems more than willing to leave the bar. His face warms as he realizes the situation he is in, and he can't hide his excitement from you.
"Of course, I'll meet you there as soon as I can get away," he says, his tone almost as a whisper as his cheeks turn pink.
"Perfect, I'll be at the Blue Moon hotel, room number 60." You grin at him, feeling your stomach fluttering. You quickly get up, brushing past the cadet and making your way out of the bar, rushing to the hotel to book the room.
You get the key card from the desk clerk and once you're in the room, the weight of what could happen crashes against your girlish fantasies. Koby could reject you, he could turn you back over to the marines, he could betray your trust. Or, he could give you the best night of your life.
You hurry inside the room, feeling the excitement build as you realize the possibilities of the night ahead. You take in the details of the room, and notice the double bed with the freshly changed sheets.
Your body fills with nervousness as you imagine yourself in that bed with Koby, his arms wrapped around you. Your mind is flooded with a rush of hormones, and you struggle to keep your thoughts at bay.
Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Your heart races as you go to open the door, swallowing down your nervousness. As the wood creaks, you're greeted by Koby. He looks just as apprehensive as you feel, but he smiles as he sees you.
His heart falters in his chest, and his cheeks fill with blush as he looks at you. He stares, his body frozen by a mixture of shock and arousal. Koby's eyes drift down toward your neck, and he sees the slight flush of color there. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
You back into the room as he enters, you can't help but reach out and pull him by his tie, just like before. You tug his body against yours, and look up at him. Your eyes fill with mischief, silently daring him to kiss you first this time.
He can feel your breath on his neck. His thoughts go back to the kiss in the jail cell, and his body begins to respond.
He closes his eyes for a moment, and then his lips find yours. His kiss is filled with passion and desire, and he holds you close as he melts into your touch.
Your hands instinctively cup his jaw, then move to tangle in his hair. You lick his lips, and Koby obediently opens his mouth. Your tongue fills his mouth, and each sensation sends a rush of heat through his body. He pulls you closer, holding you tightly and embracing the heat of your bodies together. The sound of your kissing fills the room, the feeling of your wet lips taking him over the edge. He feels your fingernails scratching the back of his head, and he reaches a hand up to touch the curves of your body. His free hand runs down your back, and his fingers make their way to the hem of your shirt.
You pull back from the kiss, reaching up to pluck his glasses from his face. He goes to say something, but closes his mouth just as soon as it opens. You gently place the glasses on the dresser next to you and take his hand to lead him to the bed. You push him down by his shoulders so he's sitting at the edge, his body relaxes against the soft sheets and he looks up at you. Your hands run over his chest, and you feel those scars through the fabric of his shirt again. Koby tenses up as you trace them, you look down at him and his eyes go wide as he feels you trace the lines, he tenses and waits for the worst.
But your kiss comes, and he is filled with a sense of relief. He lets himself melt into you, and he pulls you close as he returns the kiss with fervor. Fingers still playing with the hem of your shirt, unsure of himself.
Your hands move to work at trying to undo his tie. You maneuver yourself to straddle him, caging him against the bed. You get more and more frustrated as you fiddle with his stupid tie.
Your frustration grows, and your body begins to heat up. You wriggle yourself close to his body, and he can feel the warmth of your skin. Your lips move down to where his tie is, your mouth finding his collar as you use your teeth to help with the stubborn knot.
Koby stutters, the feeling of your hot breath on his throat sends shivers up his spine. You finally get the knot loose and pull his tie off, throwing it to the floor triumphantly. Your hands start to unbutton his uniform, and lean closer to trace your lips against his jaw. Koby's heart flutters as you speak "You're so pretty you know that? You're more handsome than any man I've ever seen."
His breath catches in his throat when you call him "pretty". He has never been described as such before, and he feels a rush of emotions.
"I..." He struggles to find the right words, his thoughts and senses overwhelmed by your presence. "You're... you're beautiful beyond compare."
His words have your heart trembling and lighting something even lower. You finally get the last button of his shirt undone and push the fabric off his narrow shoulders. You can't help but blush as you rake your eyes over his pale skin. He's absolutely perfect, and you feel a throbbing sensation in your cunt. Koby doesn't meet your eyes, the wall behind seems much more interesting to him as he waits for you to reject him. He's worried that the revelation of his past will drive you away.
But you don't care. It doesn't change your feelings for him, or how you see him. In fact, it makes him even more endearing in your eyes. He's something new, something softer, and kinder than traditional men.
As your fingers brush against his scars, you lean in and kiss one of them, your lips grazing lightly against the raised pink skin. The scars are jagged, and seem to have been poorly cut. Your heart aches at the pain he must have gone through.
You slowly push him back against the bed, his back hits the mattress with a soft thud. His breath catches in his chest and you can almost hear his heartbeat. Your lips find his neck, and you begin to suck bruises into his soft skin. His hands tug at your shirt, and he whimpers helplessly.
"Not so high.. I don't– I don't want to get in trouble."
You smile and move lower, he trembles as you nip the skin on his collarbone. His hands tug at your shirt again, his desperation becoming more and more clear. He can't handle the sensations racing through his body, and he whimpers as he can feel your teeth digging into him. You can hear his breath coming in short, rapid bursts as his body responds to you.
Your hands move down his torso to explore his scars, and your fingers begin to lightly caress them. You can feel the tension in him grow stronger with your touch, and you can tell that it's making a difference.
You ghost your fingers over his nipples, teasing and circling them as you feel his reaction to your touch. His breath comes out in a sharp hiss, his body trembling slightly as he fights for control. You drink in his moans, then shift to press your thigh between his legs. Koby jumps as feels the friction, a whine rumbling in his throat. He pulls your shirt up, and his soft fingers rub at the skin over your ribs.
He wants your shirt off, and you know it, but you want to see how far you can push him before he takes a bit of control. Your legs settle on either side of his thigh, and the weight of your body makes him moan. He can feel the heat of your arousal, and he shudders with the intense sensation of it.
Koby looks up at you, making soft and quiet little sounds as the tension leaves his body. You begin to sink down, sliding off his thigh and kneeling on the floor in front of Koby. You glance up at him, his whole torso is flushed pink and the color accentuates the deep purple bruises on his chest.
"Can I make you feel good sweetheart?" You smirk, your own arousal growing as you stare into his eyes. Your hands grip the outside of his thighs, and you eagerly wait for him to tell you yes.
His heart is threatening to beat out of his chest, he lets out a shaky sigh and looks away from you.
"I'm- I'm not. I don't-" Koby stutters trying to find the words to explain what you already know.
"I know, baby. I don't care. I wanna make you feel good, and I know you can make me feel good too." You rub circles into his thighs and smile softly at him.
He's still a nervous wreck, but he finally looks at you again. "I don't know how."
"I'll teach you. Just tell me if you want to stop." Your words are soothing, and he nods lightly.
"Can you- can… I want to see you- Your body. I want to see your body too." Koby gets a stride of confidence with his last sentence and your gentle smile stretches into a wicked smirk.
"Of course, sweet boy."
You stand up, and his eyes follow you. Your shirt comes off first, meeting Koby's on the floor. Then you work your way out of your bra, his eyes burning with desire as familiarizes himself with your skin.
Koby bites his bottom lip and can't help but stare at your tits as you throw your bra to the floor. He swallows hard and props himself up on his elbows.
"Like what you see?" You tease a bit and push your tits up before letting them fall with a bounce.
"Yes." He says with no hesitation, eyes flicking up to yours. You lean over him, placing your hands on either side of his waist and start to crawl up his body.
Using your hand, you push him back down on the bed. His eyes move from yours and stare at your exposed skin once more. You straddle his hips and grab his wrists, he seems so fragile underneath you.
Koby allows you to guide his hands over your boobs, he trembles as his soft palms meet your skin.
"Squeeze them a little." your voice is just above a whisper and he obeys. He kneads the skin in his hands, entranced with the feeling. You sigh as his touch sends sparks through your body. Your hands relax against his, allowing him to have free reign over his movements.
He uses his thumbs to rub over your nipples, watching them pebble at the attention they're getting. Koby seems completely entranced with the feeling of your tits in his hands.
You lean down and kiss him again, rocking your hips against his. He whimpers at the friction on his cunt, and you smile.
"Can I take your clothes off?" You cup his cheek in one hand, and your words are gentle. He nods nervously, and you peck his lips in reassurance before sliding down his body.
You hook your fingers into the hem of his pants and boxers then slide them down his thighs, they meet with the rest of your clothes on the floor. He watches cautiously, and as his pretty pussy is exposed, you feel your own ache.
"Fuck baby, you're so pretty." You whisper and his whole body heats up at your words. "Can I touch you?"
"Please." He whimpers, barely a second after your words.
Your fingers trace his thighs and he tenses, you rub soothing circles and practically gawk at his drooling cunt. You press a finger between his folds and collect his slick. Koby's whole body jolts as if he was shocked, a loud gasp emitting from his throat.
"It's okay baby, let me take care of you." You suck his slick from your finger and he whines. You can almost see his clit throb at your actions.
The room is soon filled with moans, the sticky sounds of slick, and wet kisses. Your fingers open him up, and curl inside his cunt, then he's cumming on them soon enough. You soothe his body and kiss him until he's done twitching.
Koby begs you to teach him how to touch you.
You guide his hand, show him how to rub your clit, and how to dip his fingers into your needy pussy. He watches with fascination as he experiments with his fingers. He's a fast learner and quickly notes how your body reacts.
It isn't long before your back arches and short gasps leave your mouth, Koby rubs fast circles on your clit as his fingers work overtime on your sweet spot. You gush onto his fingers with a long whine, and he watches in awe as you come down from you high.
You lay next to each other, both of you breathless and exhausted. Your bodies are pressed together, still feeling the after effects of the night before.
At that moment, it feels like time has stood still. The two of you are alone together, and the world outside the four walls of the room might as well not even exist.
You feel satisfied, your body exhausted but the feeling of euphoria coursing through your veins. The sound of his breathing makes you feel safe, the smell of his skin the sweetest perfume you've ever known.
After a long pause of silence, both of your heartbeats even out and your breathing slows. Koby moves to get out of bed, and you grab his wrist, not wanting him to go.
"Where are you going?" you whisper in the silence as he prepares to leave. You can't bear to let go of him, not yet.
He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. The look in his eyes causes you to shudder, the feeling of his gaze almost too much to bear.
He doesn't move to get out of bed, instead choosing to sit down beside you and pull you close. He wraps his arms around your waist, his breath tickling your ear.
"I don't want you to leave. I just got you back." You whisper against his neck. You know he has to go, he has to get back to the marine ship, he can't stay even if you weren't a pirate.
Your words fill him with the tiniest flicker of hope, but he knows it would be impossible for him to stay.
"I... I have to go," he says, his voice soft and almost a whisper. His arms hold you tight, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck as he pulls you closer.
"The ship is going back to the base, I can't just not show up," he says, his words filled with conflict. He wants to stay, but he can't ignore his responsibilities either.
You whine a bit, then pull back to look into his eyes. You stare as though you'll never see him again, and for all you know that might be true. You absorb his features, drinking him in, admiring his soft skin, blue eyes and plush lips. Your hand moves to brush through his pink hair. "What if... What if you came with me?"
His heart melts as you stare into his eyes, studying them as if he were an exotic and rare creature.
"W-what if I came with you?" he whispers. The notion sends a jolt of panic through him, but there's also a slight flicker of hope. "Y-you want me to come with you?"
A wave of emotions crashes through him, and he takes in your expression in the dim light. You want him to come with you? He can't believe his ears.
A look of uncertainty crosses his face, as he worries that he's somehow misinterpreting your words. "W-what about the marines? I... I can't abandon them," he says in an unsure tone.
He looks at you, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. He's clearly torn between his duty and his desire.
You look down at the sheets, you know it's too much to ask of him. "You're right.. I'm sorry."
"It's...it's fine," he says softly. You can tell that his response is a bit half-hearted, that he wants to be with you but knows that he can't put you before his duties.
He gives your hand a squeeze, trying to offer you what comfort he can. And in that moment, he realizes just how strong his feelings for you are. He can't believe how much he hurt at the thought of refusing you.
"Can I ask you something?" he asks softly after a moment. You nod, looking up at him. "Mhm?"
He looks at you intently. "Do...do you love me?"
It's a loaded question, and you can tell that he's struggling to find the words. He looks down at you, the desire in his eyes making his words feel all the more important. He can't bear the thought of leaving you, not after everything you've shared tonight. And if you love him, maybe there might be a way.
"If you love me, maybe I can stay.. I don't want to leave you so soon... and not when we're like this," he whispers.
Your heart wrenches at his words, and you ponder for a moment. "Koby, I-.." You pause, searching for the words. You met him once, months ago, this is the first night you've shared together, perhaps the only one you'll get. You want to say yes, you want to tell him that you love him and live in the fairytale you've made in your head. You know you can't though, he's a marine and you're a pirate. You need to put your girlish dreams aside and look at the bigger picture. "Koby, I don't know."
His heart breaks when you speak, but he can't say he truly expected anything else. He feels empty in this moment, his body frozen and unable to say, or do anything.
"I understand... it's okay," he says softly. You can tell that his words are half hearted, and the disappointment in his expression is written all over his face. "What... what will happen to us now?" he asks after a moment. "Did this all mean nothing to you?"
"It meant everything to me. That's the problem." a sob racks through your body. "I can't have you, without one of us leaving the life we want to live." Your tears begin to fall hot and heavy down your cheeks
His eyes go wide when he sees your tears, and his lips curl downwards in sadness. He didn't want to get your hopes up, but he can't help but feel saddened by your response.
He squeezes your hand and then brings his up to your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. "It meant everything to you, too?"
"I... I know... I want to say that I could give up the marines, the life that I've wanted for so long," he says with a sigh. "But I know it wouldn't be right…"
"Then don't.. What's the harm in having a little fun when you're off duty?" Your eyes trail his body, then flick back to his eyes.
You continue speaking, "When in bed with you, I'm not a pirate and you're not a marine. You're a man, and I'm a woman and we're two people having sex and loving one another." You bring your arm up to hold his hand on your cheek.
Your words cause his heart to pick up speed, and he looks deeply into your eyes. "You're… you're right," he whispers softly. "When we're here, when the world outside is gone, we're not a marine and a pirate. We're just two people together... having fun."
His body relaxes into you, his hand squeezing tightly against your cheek. In that moment, he doesn't want to ever leave your side. He wants to stay with you where the outside world can't exist.
If it's illegal for him and against the pirate code for you, then so be it. This feels too damn good to let go.
You begin to lay back down on the bed, pulling his wrist as you do. He goes along with you, laying back and you lay your head on his chest with your arms around him. You can feel the heat of his body, and his breathing slows down as the tension within him eases.
You nuzzle into his skin, your body pressed close against his. He feels safe in your arms, and you can feel his heart beating softly underneath your ear. You press your head against him, and he wraps his arms around you to hold you close.
Koby opens his eyes the next morning, the sun dances through the curtain and across his skin. He reaches next to him, the bed is empty. He stares at the empty space next to him, and his stomach drops when the realization hits him. You're gone.
He glances around the room, prepared to get dressed and have his walk of shame back to the ship. He goes to grab his glasses from the desk and notices a note beneath them. Koby smiles softly as he sees the lipstick stain you've so delicately signed it with.
His eyes skim the letter as he reads your words, and a slight blush creeps across his face. You didn't want to leave him so soon either, but you had your own path in life to follow. You hoped that maybe your paths would cross again in the future.
He reads the letter again and again, each time savoring the words.
Koby,
I'm not ready to let you go. We can still just be a man and woman, every few weeks. Your marine ship plans on docking in Mocha City, two weeks from today.
What a coincidence, since my crew plans on doing some trading there around the same time.
Meet me at the Sundae Inn, the same night you dock. If you don't want anything to do with me, disregard this letter.
Bounty Girl
He stares at the letter, the words hitting him with a strange mix of excitement and concern. What has he gotten himself into?
He knows that the Marines would never allow for something like this. He's supposed to be hunting pirates, not sleeping with one. And yet...
He smiles, knowing that he can't let you go either. It's too soon, and perhaps there's still a chance that there's more for you in this unlikely future.
Koby folds the letter up and puts it in his pocket as he prepares to go back to the marine ship.
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buckysbabygorl · 1 month
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Summary: Y/N is trying to prepare for her tests in the army, Joaquin offers to help her out but she has trouble focusing when a certain chaotic duo comes to the base. Without thinking, she takes things a little too far…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: mild language, Post-FATWS
Word count: 4.4K
Y/N struggled to weave through the crowd of scrambling cadets, getting thrown about in the mass of chaos.
She did not have time for this shit.
She sighed as another elbow blocked her path, popping her head above the crowd to look for Joaquin.
He had told her that he would be there after his briefing, promising that he would help with her exam practice questions.
Though she knew Joaquin would keep his promise; she worried. With all this -- whatever the hell it was -- going on, she doubted that she’d get enough peace and quiet to focus.
She didn’t have time for base drama; she needed to pass this or else she’d never make it into the SWORD program.
She refused to have her dream crushed by rambunctious wannabe soldiers; she was buckling down and passing this test. She would make sure of that.
Suddenly, a tuft of dark hair appeared over the heads of her fellow cadets.
Recognizing him anywhere; she prepared herself for shoving her way through.
“Excuse--sorry, excuse me--hey watch it! Excuse me, yep, right here--sorry.”
Hearing her voice, Joaquin turned and smiled.
He caught her as she stumbled in front of him, finally vacating the mass of people.
“Kind of a bad idea asking to meet me on base, don’t you think?” Joaquin joked.
She grumbled as she reached back to tighten her bun.
“I didn’t realize it would be a problem.” She said, looking back at the crowd. “What’s everyone freaking out about anyways?”
Joaquin smirked. Of course she wouldn’t remember. The girl had a one-track mind; with the stress of the written, nothing else was on her radar. Not even those two.
“We’ve got some A-listers on the base. People are hoping to get a glimpse.” He teased, being intentionally vague.
She scoffed at the idea of needing an autograph over an A.
“We have our written tomorrow; they’re wasting their time.” She thought aloud.
Placing a hand on her back, he ushered her through the jungle of recruits. “Don’t be snobby; people’s idols are here. I’d probably be doing the same thing back in my day”
“Back in your day?” She repeated, followed by a genuine laugh. “You’re only a few years older than me. Besides, I'm not being snobby; I’m being practical.”
Joaquin laughed loudly at her, but immediately stopped once he saw her face change.
“This is the rest of my life Joaquin. Take it seriously.”
His lip pulled at the bitter taste of regret on his tongue. He knew how much this meant to her. Years ago, during the disastrous effects of the blip, the program had encouraged upper year recruits to take newcomers under their wing. It was like a big brother program: and he had the fortune of being assigned to Y/N.
From the first day he met her, he knew she was different from the rest.
Yes, everyone wanted to be there. But there was something different in her ideology; she needed to be here. She studied harder than anyone he had ever met, she pushed herself well past her limits in physical training, she’d dedicated more time to this journey than anything else she had in her life.
To Y/N, this wasn’t a joking matter.
“Hey, I was just bugging you. I’m sorry—I’ll help you out.”
Her shoulders relaxed as she tried to calm herself, pushing through the double doors of the building and out into the quad. She held open the door for him, looking out at the recruits running the track.
A few of them had stopped to look out at something--or someone--out on the field, while other runners passed them by.
Y/N shook her head again; she was glad there were at least a few others still focused on training.
She wasn’t worried about her physical; in fact some of her superiors had gone out of their way to assure her that her physical definitely wasn’t an issue, which was most certainly bias reassurance on their parts and maybe somewhat not allowed.
But watching them made her anxious; she could multitask.. right?
“Quiz me while I do my fitness run through.” She demanded.
Joaquin sighed, “Seriously Y/N? Don’t push it. Besides, Lieutenant Johnson said your physical--”
He was cut off by the waving of her hands.
“You shush! I can handle some sit ups while you run questions past me. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again, Torres.”
He tried to argue, but she was already halfway across the track before his first word came out.
He spared a glance in their direction, recognizing the two from a distance.
He’d know that pair anywhere.
Anyone would.
He was just surprised that she hadn’t.
~
The targets were set up at a distance; all recruits were told to leave the west half of the field empty so there were no injuries, and minimal interference with the soldiers' training.
They would be giving a seminar on counter-terroirsm efforts when their other activities were completed; the base being reassured they would get a chance to meet the heroes at some point. Just not now.
Thank god, Sam thought.
Bucky had been in a mood the whole trip.
Things had lightened up with Barnes; their comradery came easier, he felt comfortable in Sam’s community. Things felt good again. This world had started to feel like home again.
But, everyone had their own form of baby steps.
Bucky was a good man, a good friend, but damn was he unapproachable.
If they were going to try to motivate this next generation of soldiers; Bucky needed to fix that.
Which he’d been lectured on over, and over, and over again.
Now he’d gone sour; his mind looping once again with self-doubt and frustration.
Then Sam started teasing him about getting laid.
Now Bucky felt like he was on the brink of a social meltdown.
“I’m just saying--” Sam quickly whipped the shield at the target.
The momentum pulled him back a little, but Bucky caught the ricochet with ease.
He studied his stance as his jaw set, tired of Wilson’s pestering.
“--you could be a little bit more nice to people. Friendly even! Leah was nice; and you mucked that up.”
Bucky’s mouth twitched with contempt, before he threw the shield back at the target.
The shield hit the bag at an angle, overshooting his second intended mark.
With a loud metallic echo, the shield tumbled into the grass and rolled back in front of them.
Sam raised a brow, “You’re off balance. How is that arm still weighing you down?”
“I’m not off balanced; I can’t focus because you won’t shut UP--”
~
“31..”
Clang
“...32...”
Clang
“...33--”
Clang
“Goddamnit.”
She sat up, Joaquin still holding onto her knees to support her as she looked out to the other side of the field.
“Do they really have to do that out here? We have a perfect target range inside for that.”
Joaquin suppressed a smile, “You really think our range can handle that thing?”
Her brow furrowed as she looked back at him, “What?”
Before he could answer, another loud crash of the shield interrupted him.
Y/N’s teeth grit together as she raised her hands, curling them into fists and cursing the Gods above.
“What the hell are they even throwing around?”
Joaquin’s jaw went slack at her obliviousness, “You seriously don’t know?”
“Should I?” She countered.
“Uh--yeah... that’s a piece of history right there.”
She looked at him in disbelief, “It’s a frisbee, Joaquin.”
“Oh my god. Next question.”
She was a dumbass. A smart dumbass, but a dumbass nonetheless. If she didn’t recognize them or their frisbee from fifty feet away then she was hopeless.
“Alright; explain your protocol for—“
With another throw, and a sudden clang, the two soldiers started yelling.
Joaquin could see the rage in her eyes as she moved to stand; “If they don’t stop I’m gonna say something.”
“Y/N, please don’t—”
He quickly pulled her back down, “Look, what they’re doing is really important. They’re a big deal, you can’t just--
“You know those guys?”
Joaquin bit the inside of his cheek; he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about his association with the past mission. Not until the paperwork was finalized and it became public knowledge.
“Well, yes but I can’t bring attention to them or engage them. They’re a pretty big deal.” He assured.
“Whatever, you’re just trying to act all cool.” She leaned back against the grass, as Joaquin put his hands back on her knees.
“You really don’t know who they are?” He asked
“Ugh—just tell me Torres.” She said, sitting up in a huff.
“I can’t! I have to be low-key about it.”
She spoke through her situps; “The fuck—is that—supposed to mean?”
Joaquin started to ask another question; but somehow the two soldiers’ yelling got louder.
Furious, Y/N sat up and turned, before he could stop her, she was yelling in their direction. “Excuse me! Do you mind keeping it down?”
It was obvious they didn’t hear her as the two stepped towards one another, the argument increasing in intensity.
At this point, all the surrounding recruits' attention was on the two.
Their banter was infamous of course; but none of them had witnessed it, or them in person.
None of them dared to break this up; that was a death wish.
She scowled in their direction before turning back to Joaquin, “Next question--”
CLANG
Y/N saw red.
“Alright. That’s it—”
She was up before he could stop her.
“Y/N! Don’t!”
But it was too late.
“Excuse me? Excuse me!”
Walking toward them; she didn’t realize how many people were staring. A few people had pointed out her trek towards them, a couple pulling out their phones.
Oh this was gonna be good.
With each step, she kept asking them to quiet down.
She had no idea that she was berating commanding officers.
In fact, she had no idea just how stupid of an idea this was.
They just kept screaming, and screaming, and screaming--
“HEY!”
They hadn’t noticed her until she was in front of them. Jaw locked in annoyance and shoulders squared; looking like she was ready to raise hell.
“KNOCK IT OFF! You two need to shut the FUCK up. I’m TRYING to STUDY.”
The two whipped around; finally noticing the gazes of the recruits around the track.
Not sure how a super soldier could’ve missed that but...
“We’re sorry, we didn’t hear--” Sam was cut off.
“I’m well aware of that. How could you when you’re fighting like children at a well-respected government facility?” She scolded, her voice raising with each point she made.
Bucky tried to reign in his temper; after his previous interactions with John Walker and Lemar Hoskins, his attitude towards new recruits of the US Army and SWORD was... negative, to say the least. The next generation of soldiers did not have Bucky’s approval; he didn’t feel that had the heart that he and his boys once had, and were following in the footsteps of something they didn’t truly understand. What Steve, and the shield, represented was more than fighting for your country. It was fighting for what’s right, battling injustice, the respect you had to have and the protection you needed to provide was at an international scale now at minimum, in fact it went across all space and time it seemed. He didn’t need some naive recruit giving him the business right now, no sir.
Bucky turned to face her, “Pardon me Miss, but I think you’re out of line.”
Her brows shot up; “Excuse me? I’m out of line? You two are the ones coming onto SWORD property; during our exam season, to show off what very little skill you have, for what?”
The two shared a look; who was this girl?
“Little skill?” Bucky repeated.
She smiled coldly, “I see we’re still having trouble hearing me.”
Something caught her eye, a glare from the man’s hand as it reflected the sunlight.
He neared her, and Sam made no motion to stop him.
“You are talking to two highly decorated war veterans, and superior officers, if I’m judging correctly.”
Bucky couldn’t stand obnoxious recruits; he’d had enough of the High and Mighty with John Walker, he didn’t need it from GI Jane.
As he stood in front of her, eyes set on her face; she refused to look away.
“Stand down, soldier.” He commanded, “You’re out ranked, and embarrassing yourself.”
He felt the anger rapidly bubbling up inside him; this had gone on long enough. The exchange of their hateful stares seemed to last an eternity, neither refused to break first. From his point of view; some hot shot hero wannabe was blatantly disrespecting their practice time, and on a broader scale, affecting them from doing their job. On her end; it was the same thing. Some veterans were dismissing how hard she was working to be here, and thwarting the efforts of her future career. It was a small moment in time; a stupid altercation that, from the outside, should have meant nothing. But internally, to each of them, it meant everything.
She scoffed, taking him aback.
He watched as she simply pulled her hands behind her back, squaring her shoulders in opposition to his frame. He could see the strength in her figure, you could sense the pride she exuded while she faced him. She had no intention of standing down.
“Embarrassing myself? You’re the “decorated war veteran” that hasn’t successfully executed a single hit while he’s been here; even with being genetically enhanced.” She stated.
Sam should’ve jumped in. Bucky and Sam had been allowed in the space for a boost of morale in staff and recruits, and to train with their new found weaponry. In exchange; they had to be respectful and encouraging of the people around them. This was way too big a scene for either party; certainly going to evoke damages of reputation on both ends.
However...
Sam was enjoying this.
Bucky hadn’t been actively social with any of the people here; they had been drawing attention, they certainly had not been boosting morale.
If this young woman wanted to set them in their place; Sam wasn’t going to argue with that.
Besides, Barnes needed to get his blood pumping and his head straight.
Clearly, she was achieving that.
“You’ve been throwing around this stupid fucking thing for almost an hour. You haven’t improved shit for your posture, your aim is still off by like—”
Seeing the silver underside of the frisbee on the ground, she reached for its leather straps.
Without thinking, Y/N grabbed it, whipping it with fury.
The group of students gasped at the action; the two men didn’t move fast enough to stop her.
Joaquin put his head in his hands.
He was going to be in so much shit for this.
Y/N followed through with her throw; sending the frisbee to one target, and with a perfect ricochet it stuck into the wooden pallet, wedging itself in a perfect bullseye.
“Holy shit,” a recruit whispered, turning to his friend, “did you see that?”
The friend shook her head, “What the fuck was that?”
Y/N whipped back to the man in front of her, poking a finger into his chest.
He could feel her hot breath on his neck, her eyes sharp and dark as she peered up at him.
“If you out-rank me, fine. At least have something to show for it if you’re going to ruin my chance at furthering my career.”
He said nothing, staring down at her.
He pulled his attention back to the target. How the hell did she do that?
Shaking her head, she walked towards the splintered wood. Standing in front of it; she looked out into the quad, seeing that she had the entire base’s eyes on her. She pulled the disc away from the target board, her hands sliding into the straps.
“Here, take your toy back.”
But as she turned back to them, they made no motion to speak.
She looked down at the weapon in her hands; only then realizing just what she was holding.
They were silent as they looked at the shield; its colors and glorious star facing them.
That wasn’t a frisbee.
It was Captain America’s shield.
The connection zipped through her brain like lightning.
Oh god.
The man looking at her was Sam Wilson, meaning she had just bitched out Captain America.
Also meaning that the man in front of her was none other than Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.
Her career was definitely over.
“Oh fuck me.” She whispered, her face paling.
Snapping out of his stupor; Bucky quickly responded.
“Yeah, exactly. So give it back—“
He reached for it, before Y/N pulled it from his grasp.
Well, she thought. If I’m going down, I’m going down swingin’.
“No. This is mine until my exam is over. I pass, I’ll give it back. I don’t, then I’m kicking your ass with it.”
Wilson spoke up then, “Hey, hey watch it.”
“You watch it—both of you are army men. You know how much these tests mean for our future, and you’ve been messing that up for me--and for everyone--”
She gestured out to the crowd of people watching them.
“They’ve been focused on you two all day; you two must’ve known that would happen. This isn’t good for us right now. Fuck, I--”
Now she was rambling, god she felt like an idiot. Why couldn’t she just keep her head?
Something in her voice caught Bucky.
He couldn’t pick it out exactly; but the way she carried herself, the hot headed stubbornness, and serious drive. The vouching on everyone's behalf…
It reminded him of a strong woman he once knew; leading a pack that didn’t know how to be led.
For a second, he almost sympathized with her.
Almost.
She reeled herself in, exuding her previous composure. “I get you two are Avengers and you’re the good guys, but right now you’re pissing me off.”
This was ridiculous.
Bucky laughed dryly at the resistance; “Give it back.”
He grabbed it again, and she glared at his metal hand. She was done being bullied by this man; hero or not, he had fucked up her day exponentially.
“Hands. Off.”
Pulling the shield back to her chest, she pressed the rounded side flat against his stomach. Ducking, she used his weight and momentum against him.
The outside recruits watched in shock as she lifted The Winter Soldier, flipping him over the shield and throwing him to the ground.
It happened so fast, neither of the men had time to react.
Joaquin had to stop himself from throwing up, the adrenaline rushing through him was overwhelming.
He considered running over, but the damage was done. Any interference at this point would probably make things worse.
Y/N just chucked a super soldier into the dirt.
The hell was he gonna do about it?
Bucky groaned as he landed on his back, head smacking against the ground. It hadn’t been hard enough to hurt him; not much did. But the shock of the situation kept him floored.
“Alright you two,” Sam said. Bucky could hear the stall of laughter in his voice, “I think that’s enough.”
With shield still in hand, Y/N tried to stop herself from shaking. The anger was subsiding, but still prominent.
She was surprised that none of her superiors had jumped in to break up the fight; but as she looked out to the crowd of people she realized it was all recruits. Part of her felt relieved, another part felt sick to her stomach.
“Tomorrow;” she huffed, “you meet me here after 10 p.m. Then you get your shield.”
She stormed across the field, not daring to look anyone in the eye.
Feigning confidence was her best action plan, even though she was mortified by her previous actions.
With the situation dawning on her; she grasped for Joaquin and urged him to follow.
“What the fuck did you just do?” He whispered.
“I don’t know. I’m panicking now, so move your ass before I have a heart attack.”
Sam watched as the two figures weaved through the crowd, finding himself even more pleased when realizing it was Joaquin walking away with this mystery girl.
“Sam, a little help here?”
Remembering the old timer in the dirt, Sam reached down to pull him up.
“We better hope she passes,” he laughed, “otherwise you’ll never get that shield back.”
~
Luckily for everyone, she did pass.
Now, standing out in the empty field, a new dread came over her.
The night sky encompassed the campus in a soothing darkness. It did nothing to calm her nerves, but the idea that she would be alone helped her some.
The exam was easy; she had no doubt that she had passed. Making her feel all the more guilty. Word had spread like wildfire here; and it wouldn’t be long before she was reprimanded for what she had done.
She would be lucky if she wasn’t kicked off the base within the next 24 hours. The impending scolding by The Winter Soldier was horrifying enough.
She would apologize profusely, offer anything she could to make up for it, then hopefully get through this ordeal by the skin of her teeth.
Looking down to the shield, she couldn’t help but admire it, feeling its powerful weight in her hands. Curious to see if she could replicate her earlier throw in the day, she tossed it again. Not noticing the man standing directly in her way.
Bucky caught it with ease, and she almost screamed at the sight of him.
“Oh god—I’m sorry.”
Bringing it to his side, he continued to stare at her.
“Sorry? I’m surprised to hear that.”
She looked to the ground, her face growing hot.
“Yeah... about that—I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that; I was out of line—”
“No.” His voice was stern, but soft.
“I was out of line. I showed no respect to a fellow soldier... you were upset. You told us to stop. We practically laughed in your face.”
She wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was all a plot that would result in her getting fired.
“You’re not just saying that to get the shield back, are you?”
He chuckled, “No. The shield’s important, but the man behind that—what he represented meant more.”
His face fell for a moment, and when the silence drew on too long Y/N cleared her throat.
He shook himself from his thoughts, “My point is, yes I’d like it back. But if having it back meant manipulating you, the man that it used to belong to would be very disappointed in me.”
He could hear Steve’s voice now, chiding him for being such an ass to a lady. Let alone a fellow soldier.
“He was a hero, and from what I hear, a good man…” She picked at her fingernails, not meeting his eye, “You all are.”
Bucky smiled, “Well now you’re just faking nice.”
“Hey!” She exclaimed.
He laughed again, but stopped when he saw her fidgeting. Poor thing was probably a nervous wreck.
“I’m not sure if this helps but… we pulled your lieutenant aside. They agreed to let bygones be bygones, you won’t get punished for anything.”
A sigh of relief escaped her, shoulders falling as she finally looked at him.
“Thank you, god, thank you. How’d you manage that?”
He chuckled, “Wrote it off as a “training exercise” for a recruit of exemplary excellence.”
She laughed with him this time; and Bucky was surprised at how much he liked the sound of it.
“Thank you,” she repeated, “seriously thank you--I was, I was an idiot…”
Bucky shook his head, there was no need for her to explain herself. He was a grown man, he should have behaved as such.
“Sam wanted me to tell you he was sorry too; we shouldn’t have got so butt hurt about it. Could’ve gone way smoother.”
“I didn’t help,” she added, “I was crazy stressed and I took it out on you guys. Again, I’m sorry.”
“You can stop saying that. You pass at least?”
She couldn’t find her words right away, shocked by his interest.
“Yeah, I think so. My physical went well, so that certainly helps.”
He nodded, looking her over. “I don’t doubt that.”
Her head tilted, “Pardon?”
A blush covered his cheeks, “I mean, no. Not like that. Just—you look good. Or—you seem to be in good shape. And you, well you even threw me down. And the shield too! I-Uh—“
She laughed again and Bucky had to stop himself from swooning.
She looked across the field, not knowing what to say.
She certainly wasn’t opposed to his company, but it was lost on her as to why he lingered.
“How did you do that, by the way?” He asked.
“Do what?”
He tapped the Shield, the metallic ring reverberating in the night air.
“Threw this. First try. And me—also first try.”
She shrugged, she honestly didn’t know herself.
“I’m very observant... visuals certainly help.”
He gestured out at the empty field. “Give me a visual then.”
She turned to look over her shoulder, was there really no one around?
“It’s getting kind of late—“
“—Oh, I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, he thought of an excuse for her. “You probably have studying and—and stuff.”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I just mean… I don’t want to keep you long.”
He shrugged, “I don’t mind.”
She bit the inside of her lip, gathering that this extra time together was more than just a simple demonstration. “Okay, good.”
She smiled mischievously, snagging the shield from his hands.
“Cuz you’re gonna need all the time you can get—clearly an amateur.”
“I’m an amateur?” He followed eagerly, “I’m 106 years old with decades of experience. You’re like, 18 and barely a Private.”
“Oh that’s it, you’re on sergeant.”
~
Taglist:
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@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @niiight-dreamerrrr @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes
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coryosmin · 8 months
Note
being hoff’s daughter and peacekeeper!coryo bragging to his fellow peacekeepers that he took ur v-card🤭🤭
nsfw | mdni | fem!reader
being with the commanders daughter, coriolanus snow felt smug about the fact that he had taken your virginity. so much so that he began bragging to his fellow peacekeepers about it. you, the daughter of a man that everyone on base feared, had lost your virginity to a boy from the Capitol who’s nothing more than a cadet here in district 12.
so when rumors began encircling the base that coriolanus snow was fraternizing with the commander’s daughter, of course commander hoff spoke to coriolanus. he had to ask the young eighteen year old if he had pure intentions with his daughter and if he truly means to be with her because she is not someone to just fuck and then throw away.
and coriolanus? he nodded his head and told the commander exactly what he wanted to hear. and whether he meant it or not is entirely up to your interpretation. if commander hoff expects coriolanus to treat you right then that is what coriolanus will do. after all, it was a direct order from a commanding officer.
so when the weekend comes by and you’re at the hob, watching the covey perform, coriolanus notices you immediately as you smile and dance with a few of your friends. and coriolanus approached you with a small smirk on his face. you grin as you look up at him. “hey, soldier,” you greeted, grabbing his hand and dancing with him.
coriolanus grabbed your hand, spinning you around before pulling you close. “why don’t i bring you somewhere more private?” he muttered. and you nodded, allowing yourself to be taken to a private area with coriolanus.
and when you guys are officially alone with no one to bother you, his lips are on yours, kissing you hungrily. and you kiss him back with just as much passion. and eventually, it leads to your dress hiked up, your panties pushed to the side as coryo kneels in front of you, face buried in your cunt.
you can’t help the moans that escape your lips as coryo eats you out, his tongue lapping at your pussy while his nose rubs against your clit. coriolanus’s eyes are closed as he ravishes you, enjoying the taste of your pussy. and you’re whining and moaning, your hands on his head as you grind against his face.
eventually, you’re cumming, your thighs clenching around him while he eats you out through your orgasm. and when you’ve finished, coriolanus pulls away, smirking as his face is drenched from your juices. “feeling good?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
you nod your head. “very good,” you replied breathlessly.
and so coriolanus was glad he took your virginity. because now you’ll always be his. and if your father wanted you to be treated right, well he never specified how you should be treated right. so if it meant that coryo was eating your cunt every night to keep you satisfied, then well there’s nothing wrong with that. right?
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brokeandfamouseu · 2 years
Video
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Taste Cadets - Episode 1 'Home Turf' // 2023 
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pennylanewrites · 1 year
Text
[love in the dark] levi ackerman x f!reader
cw + what to expect: angsty levi thinking he’s not good enough for you, self deprecation, talks of a family and kids, nudity (not sexual), brief mentions of battle scars, swearing, jealousy, alcohol consumption, eventual comfort
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levi hated everything he loved about you. you were so loud and talkative and bubbly. always smiling, despite the chaos around you. always caring and laughing and mumbling made-up melodies.
he hated that other people loved those parts of you too. he hated the way erwin would light up when you entered the room, that he somehow found ways to spend more time than needed with you, that hange would tease him playfully about his crush on you, a simple cadet.
but what he hated the most was that he couldn’t speak. he couldn’t kick the living shit out of erwin and punch hange’s stupid face, scream how much he loves you.
because you were a cadet. levi was a captain. it was so inappropriate, him breaking every possible rule and code of honour to be with you.
today was a very bad day. many scouts had lost their lives in an expedition to capture two titans for research. the remaining ones needed an uplift, erwin thought. and now squad leaders, captains, scouts and the fucking commander were sitting in a circle drinking wine.
you couldn’t handle your alcohol. levi was the first person to introduce you to wine, and then whiskey. that was also the first time levi felt old. how young were you that you had never tasted alcohol before?
he smiled to himself at the memory, but the smile faltered when he looked up to see erwin helping you to a couch. you gracefully thanked your commander, slightly embarrassed at how dizzy you were. petra, your friend, looked between you and the commander, giving you a suggestive wiggle of the brows. that didn’t go unnoticed by your captain, whose hand slipped as he poured wine in petra’s glass, turning her white pants a pale hue of red.
something snapped inside of levi as he drank glass after glass of sweet red wine. erwin had so much to offer to you. money, a home, a family. you were listening intently as erwin explained the rules of a card game to you, peering over his shoulder as you sat on the couch and he on the floor.
don’t let your head fall on his shoulder. don’t let your-
a gasp came from levi’s left. of course it was fucking hange.
“i must be boring you.” erwin chuckled when he realised you were falling asleep. “i’ll take you to your dorm.” levi reached the couch with two big steps, protectively standing between you and erwin as you got up.
“i’ll take her.” he was throwing daggers at erwin with his gray eyes, and erwin was surprisingly returning the gaze.
“you don’t have to, captain. take your rest today.” erwin was not giving it up. he gave levi a pleading look, as if saying let me have this, friend.
you’re not my fucking friend, replied levi.
“she’s my soldier, erwin.” you pulled on levi’s jacket, after making sure no one saw. a silent please stop. “lead the way, cadet. you can walk, i assume.” he was cold. more than usual, barely letting you say your good nights to the room.
was he mad at you? you weren’t the one making advances, it was erwin. you didn’t know how to politely turn your commander down, nor did the alcohol running through your veins allow you to.
“your room is that way, is it not?” levi stopped sharply, making you hit his back.
“levi,” when had you ever slept in your room the last two years? “are you mad at me?”
he sighed and turned around, still alert for any guards, or even worse, erwin and hange showing up.
“you’re drunk.” was all he said before walking again, signaling for you to follow. he was silent the rest of the way, silent as he stepped out of his clothes, silent as he grabbed a towel.
“can we take a bath together?” you asked hopefully. deep down you had a feeling he would turn you down. levi was always sour after failed expeditions.
“i want to go to sleep tonight, you take too damn long in the bath.” he was right, but the way he said it made it sound like he was accusing you of being a serial killer.
“okay. you go then, i showered before.” you smiled softly and started taking your clothes off to lay on the clean linen sheets.
levi thought about tonight over and over as he sat in the hot water. he didn’t mean to snap at you, or be so mean. he was pushing you away and into erwin’s arms.
erwin could give you the world. levi could not.
and you deserved the damn world.
he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you taking up the entirety of the bed, stark naked, like you always did.
he loved everything about your body. every curve, every dip, every beauty mark. he loved the healed pink scars on your legs and back, he loved kissing them and caressing them every time you cried that they were ghastly.
he hated what he was about to do.
“don’t you dare.” your voice was quavering. you didn’t dare look away from the ceiling.
“dare what?” levi put his boxers on and tried pushing you to the wall so he could lie down. why are you crying?
“do what you’re about to do, levi.” you moved so he could sit next to you and you both rested your backs on the cold wall.
“if you know what i’m about to do, you also know why.”
“oh, eyebrows is flirting with my girlfriend. time to ruin a perfectly fine two-year relationship.” you were mocking him. he was almost mad at you, but you were trying so hard not to cry.
“that’s not it.” he muttered. god, he hated talking about these things. “i can’t…”
i can’t give you enough.
“can’t what, levi? can’t love me anymore?”
“i can’t be what you need.” he sighed and turned away. why the fuck were his eyes burning and watering now?
“what are you talking about?”
“do you want kids, y/n?”
you let out a surprised laugh.
“levi-”
“do you?”
“well, yeah. not for like, ten years, but sure.”
“there you have it.”
“what, are you impotent or something?” you tried making light of the situation, because truly, you had no idea how to approach this. so you resorted to humour, hoping levi would snap out of it too.
“no, i’m just not cut out for that family crap.” he was standing up and walking around the room now, and he was making you dizzy. “erwin is, though. erwin wants a family and three children, did you know?”
you did know. you still shook your head no.
“and he has money to raise them. hell, he has a house in the countryside, and servants.”
“well, good for him. i hope he finds a wife soon.”
“are you fucking stupid, y/n?” you hated when he talked like that. “you’re 22 years old, god damn it!”
“so?”
“other women your age are already married and have a second kid on the way. not wasting their days away fighting titans, risking their lives!”
“i didn’t join the scouts to find a husband, levi!” you were crying. god, he hated it so much. what was he even doing. levi regretted ever opening his mouth.
“don’t you understand, erwin is your way out! you’re wasting your time with me. your life.”
“levi…” now you finally understood. it wasn’t that he was jealous of erwin flirting with you. well, that too, but he was jealous of the life erwin was living. “levi, i love you.”
“y/n, i really don’t know what you’re doing with me.” he was sitting down on the edge of the bed, his back to you. you shifted on the bed, until your legs were around his and your cheek resting on his back.
“i know you don’t get it, but you’re giving me exactly what i need.”
“and what is that?”
your hand fell on top of his, and you intertwined your fingers before he could take it away.
“you give me life, levi. and that’s more than i could ask for. i know you’re scared that you’ll die, or i will, but that’s our purpose. i joined the scouts knowing the risks.”
“i just want you to live properly. peacefully.”
“so be my peace.” you whispered in his ear and got up, sitting down again on his lap. “and don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me.”
“i know i’m not, y/n.”
“i don’t care, then. i love you, i don’t want to lose this, ever. i don’t care that i’m too young, or at child-bearing age or whatever other stupid crap you’ll come up with.” he smiled softly at you, letting his forehead fall against yours.
“promise you won’t die, then?” you giggled and kissed the tip of his nose before replying.
“i promise.”
“i love you.”
“good. don’t ever do that shit again, levi.”
“don’t swear.” he muttered and guided you to lie down, still on top of him. you could feel your heartbeats turn to one as you lay in silence. “i’m sorry, y/n.”
“that’s okay. just know i wouldn’t trade you for anything. for anyone.”
“really?” his arms tightened around you. a form of saying, me neither. you’re my everything.
“yeah, i like my men to have thin eyebrows.”
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bluelanternn · 11 months
Text
— european’s finest
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* ˚ ✦ ═ levi ackerman x gn! reader
* ˚ ✦ ═ fluff, slightly suggestive, cuddles, clingy levi, cadet! reader, established relationship, kissing
* ˚ ✦ ═ synopsis: in which, levi ackerman gives you a task to cuddle him—for thirty minutes.
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“Captain?”
Three knocks sung around the room. The dim lit cascaded around shimmer with the candle slightly flickering due to the wind. Rustled squeaks on a piece of paper halted when your voice rang over the corridors. His grey eyes darted to the door—somewhere beneath lies down a hidden agenda.
With the accepted response, your hand twisted the doorknob, turning to see him bated out a frustrated sigh. Quietly getting close to him, a smile grows on your face. “Can I help you, sir?” You play to pretend about giving respect to your senior.
“Drop the formalities, [Name].” Levi breathed out. An unnoticeable wrinkle crinkled around his forehead—his eyes were obviously showing that he is tired. Echo of the wind loudly swooshed out, determined to give you two some privacy.
You certainly did dropped the formalities. Beginning to take off your jacket, you hung it around his shoulders—his outfit lacks the suit that somehow adds to his domineering charm. Your warm hand touch his pale cheek. “I will gladly do, dear.” You were answered with a nuzzle and lean on your touch.
Your jacket warms him up. His heart was not shaken up; he stands up while heading to the couch at the edge of his office. The plant beside, like it’s not inanimated, begin to become a part of the mood that is slowly becoming more intimate.
“Would you like some tea?” You sat beside him, your thumb rubs his knuckles, gently placing a kiss on the back of his hand.
You were the only one who is allowed to pamper him. Make him feel like he is being worshipped. Levi Ackerman doesn’t know why your eyes always have that adoring glint that always appear whenever you see him.
“No. Just, stop it…” He does not want you to stop. You have already gotten used to his antics, seeing as his hand seek for your touch. His fingers were wrapped around yours, hugging them close to his other hand.
Levi’s eyes meet yours, “Cuddle me.”
A spark travels through your spine. You always liked whenever he initiates it. You give in to his want. You grew closer—pulling his thighs around your lap, making his arms wrapped rest on your shoulders. Your head tilts up, nose almost bumping his soft lips.
He does not resist.
Instead, he melts in your embrace. Resting his head on the crook of your neck, he breathes in your scent. Your fingers made way through his hair. “Did you missed me, dear?”
Levi does not like showing his soft spot to anyone. He shows his love in a different way to others, but to you—he just want experience the taste of sweet puppy love. He relishes in your affections, your petnames were a music to his ears.
“I did. What are you gonna do about it?” He grumbled making you lowly chuckle. You kissed his temple, travelling down to his jaw.
“I was not complaining, sweetheart.” Your nose bumps against his. Your lips peck his soft lips, making him slightly frown—he wants more. His lips firmly pressed against yours, closing your own eyes. Your lips parting away as you let his tongue slide inside yours. Your hands grip his waist to make him steady, the heat around your cheeks did definitely not waste its time to make itself shown.
A muffled pleased moan in between both of your lips. He breaks the kiss slowly, “Give me 30.” He lets out a breath of relief, he snuggles his head onto your neck, feeling already sleepy and warm. He does not want to continue his work anymore. His eyes were half-lidded, his breath fans over your neck before shutting his eyes out.
With your arms wrapped around his waist, you begin to reminisce the memories between you two. Your fingers rub his back softly.
It’s been a while since you two had an alone time. You smiled lovesick, hearing his breathy snores. You gently lay him down on the couch, covering a blanket on him.
You were about to pull away. Suddenly, a firm grip tug on your wrist. A quiet laugh bubbles up on your throat, your body facing to see him looking at you with a frown. “Where are you going?” You can tell he was aching for you—he wants to cling onto you forever.
“You said to cuddle you for 30 minutes.” You pointed out with an amused grin, you looked at the clock. “It has been 30 minutes, darling.” You cooed softly, leaning close to his face.
You were pulled on the couch, as he crawled back again on top of you. You don’t even get a say before your face was met with a scowl. “I didn’t say minutes.” You blinked before chuckling amusedly—though it was shut up with his kiss once again.
He meant hours, you dimwit.
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dollwrites · 1 year
Text
𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 — 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!cadet!reader, masturbation ( him ), handjob, oral sex, facial, all characters featured are 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ originally posted on 10.11.2022 do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3
𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ fingertips by kita klane
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you weren’t supposed to see this.
just turn around, go back to bed, and pretend you didn’t see your captain touching himself.
the words kept repeating themselves in your mind, over and over, but your legs refused to move— your feet refused to carry you away from the cracked door you hid behind, and your eyes refused to look away.
if he catches you watching him, there’ll be hell to pay. but even that, the probability of your notoriously calloused captain doling out a punishment so wicked that you would rather be eaten by a titan, was not enough to spur you to stop watching when Levi moaned. thin brows knit tight together, he was leaned against the wall, his uniform trousers shoved down around his thighs, the hem of his shirt bunched up and clenched in his teeth, and even in the pale moonlight, you can make out each and every pad of strong muscle underneath his ivory skin as it contracts when he breathes, or when his hips jut forward to meet his furious pumping. his eyes are closed, but his countenance isn’t soft— it’s contorted in pleasure, and there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks. “Fuck.” he hisses against his teeth, and your face is aflame.
he must have thought that he was the only one awake.
clenching your thighs in a feeble attempt to ease the tension building in your lower half, your eyes are wide and unblinking. they scour every inch of him as if he were placed on display just for you. his fist gliding up and down, kissing his base briefly only to careen upwards and massage the swollen tip. he’s thicker than you expected, nested in a bed of thick, dark hair and etched in bulging veins. you drink in the visage— every throbbing inch, up to the reddened, plump head. he was gorgeous. sinfully so.
your own fingertips gripped the door when his thumb ran over his slit and his head dropped back against the wall with a snort of air through his flared nostrils. you had to wonder if he was always so rough with himself, fucking his own hand at a velocity that made you dizzy ( and incredibly jealous of his palm ). the brutal self treatment seemingly stemmed from a habit of needing to finish quick, and you could imagine he’s very rarely able to savor it. you’re suddenly longing to give him all the slow, skillful worship he deserves, with your tongue sliding over your lower lip, you imagine the way he might taste upon it, and your core soaks through.
another muffled groan, and this time your fingers twitch— wanting desperately to delve into your panties and tease yourself to his rapid pace. it was so, so wrong. you knew that, but you rub your thighs together to ease the nerves between them and bite down hard on your lip.
he was driving you mad without even touching you.
you could watch his hips work, rocking to a quick, consistent rhythm, fucking his fist, all night long. if only you hadn’t forgotten you were leaning against an old, wooden door, that moaned when you pressed yourself into it harder to get a closer look, and his eyes opened, sharp, and cut to the doorway.
you were made before you even fully registered that you’d given yourself away.
“Spying on me, cadet?” he asks, his voice still thick with lust. you hadn’t even noticed his shirt was no longer gripped between his lips, but hanging in a wrinkled slump against his solid abdomen.
“No!” you answered, maybe a bit too quickly, stumbling against the door, but you grip it tight, hoping to use it as a barrier between you and a very angry Levi. “I mean… I mean no, sir, captain.. Levi… sir…”
his expression doesn’t change. “Don’t lie to me again.” he warns, “Were you watching me?”
your cheeks were on fire, and you so desperately wanted to look away, but Levi hadn’t bothered to pull his pants back into place, or even cover his manhood. instead, he kept his grip at the base. you nod, bashful, and stutter, “I’m so— so sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have, and I didn’t mean to, I just heard something so I came to make sure you were ok—“
“Did you like it?”
your mouth hangs open, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. surely, you hadn’t. surely, he hadn’t asked that. “W—what?”
your eyes were glued to his cock, and you watched his thumb slowly, gingerly caress a pesky vein near the head.
“Watching me.” he elaborated, his countenance expressionless, eyes as cold as ever, but they were glaring right through you. expecting an answer. “Did you like it?”
“I…” you’re hopelessly distracted by the gentle stroke of his thumb, and the way he twitched with each swipe. “Y—yes, sir…” it was hardly a whisper, but you were much too humiliated to speak any louder. finally, you force your gaze to avert, and you stare at your bare feet and shaking knees. “I’m so sorry, I won’t… I never meant to—“
“Are you going to stand all the way over there while I finish or are you going to get in here and help me with this?” he was asking through his teeth, teasing the sensitive head with his thumb like you’d watched him do only moments before, and your stomach did a cartwheel— knots bundling up within your gut. your eyes flicker upwards, nervous to see if he was just testing you, but he was leaned back again, shoulders resting against the wall, and his fist curled tight around his base and dragged upwards, stroking himself hard and slow. when he sees the perplexity plastered on your features, he answers for you. “Come in and close the door.”
it was almost impressive how swiftly your feet carried you into the room, and you push yourself back against the door until you heard a low whine and a solid thunk, but you were still just staring, wide eyed, at the scene before you. this was a dream. it had to be.
“Come over here.” he murmurs, sucking in a breath. his lids looked heavier than normal, his pupils blown out so his slate gems appeared abysmal. you do as instructed, and stop just a few inches in front of him. you open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it. “On your knees for me.”
“Yes sir.” if you would’ve dropped any faster, you might’ve hurt yourself. your knees find the hard, dirty floor and plant themselves against it. you stare up at him, your view of his face obstructed by his cock standing at attention, demanding to be taken care of. you’re completely entranced by it, both hands coming up, more than willing to take over for his, and he lets you, eliciting a soft sigh when you wrap them around his base.
you stroke slow at first, both fists working at the same pace in opposite directions over the slick, pulsating muscle. and you wanted to watch his face because you could hear him huffing and puffing like a starved animal, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the cock in your hands. you could feel it throbbing under your fingertips, you could see the tip leaking precum in lazy dribbles, and when you gave the swollen tip special attention with teasing, butterfly strokes with your digit tips, he jerked and squirmed. “Like this, captain?” you ask, but your eyes never leave his sex, your tongue flicking impatiently at the seal of your lips. you kept leaning closer, inhaling the rawest scent of him, and with each intake of his smell, you grew more and more tempted to gather the warm pre cum with your tongue just to know what it tasted like.
Levi’s jaw was practically sewn together, grinding, and he stares down the length of his torso at you. “Just like that.” he moaned in approval, and your pace picked up, boasting an inflated ego. you could tell by the way he twitched and squirmed that he was right on the edge. “Fuck, just like that.” you thought about asking him how often he did this, had his underlings get him off, but you could tell this wasn’t the usual. if he had been in this position at all before now, it would’ve shocked you. Levi Ackerman was a man that took care of himself, and you knew that by how sensitive he was to your touch— he wasn’t accustomed to anyone else.
but he caught you staring; he must’ve seen the hungry look in your eyes, or the way you licked your lips, because he shifted, one hand dropping to hold your chin, urging you to meet his hazy gaze. “You want to suck it, don’t you?” he asked, and the husk in his baritone struck straight to your core. there was a very obvious damp patch in your panties, threatening to soak through your trousers, but even your quivering cunt was not enough of a distraction to take one ounce of concentration from pleasing your superior.
you nod, practically pleading with a puppy dog pout alone. “Can I… please, sir? Please let me suck your cock. I need to taste you.”
you could watch how his muscles tightened, teeth grinding when you begged. a hardly audible groan dies on his tongue, and his thumb eases between the seal of your couplet and urges it open, before he nods. “Open up, cadet.” you do as instructed, allowing his calloused fingers to prod inside your mouth and test your gag reflex, whilst you put both arms behind your back. your tongue hangs out of your mouth, dribbling saliva, but it isn’t long before his thumb and forefinger, now wet, grip your jaw to line himself up with your mouth.
the very moment his cock touched your tastebuds, your eyelids flutter in content— Levi’s taste was so damn addictive. with a slow rock of his hips, he nests in your cavern, and the first couple of inches glide in easily. your lips stretch around his thickness, and you moan. you’d never felt such carnal pleasure simply from sucking cock before now.
“Huh…” it’s a stuttered, raspy moan you never thought you’d ever hear from Humanity’s Strongest, and your eyes widen, staring up at him. “That’s it,” he hisses, falling into a steady rhythm that you were all too eager to lean into and meet. “‘S good…” bobbing your head to welcome as much as him as you could take without gagging, you wiggle the tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth against his most prominent vein, and you watch his head drop back again as he grunts in ecstasy. his hands blindly find the top of your head, and both rest there, guiding you into his quick tempo.
Levi’s pace was a difficult one to keep up with, and you found yourself whimpering and clucking every time his broad tip battered the back of your throat, but you noticed that he never once pushed you down— never forced you to take more than what you were willing to, and his hold was gentle enough that you felt like you could pull away if you needed to.
but you wouldn’t dare.
not until you were satiated.
when his cock twitched against your tongue, and he hummed, “I’m ready,” it was breathless and needy, but he was petting the top of your head, pumping himself into your mouth, “how do you want it?”
reluctantly, you lean back, letting his cock slip from your swollen lips with a vulgar pop, but your hands are back on him in a fraction of a second, pumping fervently, and you lean close, swirling your tongue around the tip as you pant, and look up at him, “Cum on my face, captain.” you urge, squeezing him. he moans, hips stuttering, “Paint me… Claim me—“
Levi grabs your face again, whilst the other grips himself at the base and he comes apart, letting you milk the orgasm out of him until streamers of his release hit your chin first, then your lips, and your cheeks. you squint to avoid getting any in your eyes, but you’re smiling, elated to be given exactly what you asked for, and your tongue scoops some of the warmth from your lips and draws it into your mouth. you moan in utter delight, and only let go of him when he pries your hands off and steps back, breathing ragged, but you can’t be too upset, you’re savoring all he’s given you.
“Thank you, captain.” you purr, sitting back on your calves. your knees were much too weak to try and stand up right now and you knew that. “Should I—“
“Get cleaned up and get some rest, cadet.” Levi said, and you were amazed at how steady his voice was; his breathing had already evened out. “We only have a few hours left before we have to move out.”
you pout, mildly disappointed, but nibble on your lip, and wait until he looks back at you with an arched brow.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I can’t sleep in here with you?”
his expression changed, for a split second Levi Ackerman looked surprised, then he scoffed. “Cute, but no.” you’re forcing yourself to your feet, using your finger to guide the rest of his essence into your mouth, and he’s watching, dressing himself, before he looks away and mutters, “But… maybe you can sneak away from the squad every now and then.” he could see your eyes light up even in the dim glow of the dusky room, and he added quick. “Don’t make it a habit.”
you beamed as you skipped over to the door, determined to do the exact opposite.
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uhohdad · 1 year
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Stalker!Konig
Konig has a deep infatuation with you and he can’t help but steal some of your belongings.
Won’t you forgive him?
NSFW 18+
Konig’s not sure when exactly he crossed the line, but he knew he was in over his head. It’s not like him, not like him to act like this. He was normally a disciplined man, but you made him feel out of control of his own actions. From the moment he laid eyes on you he knew he was fucked, but he really didn’t think it would have spiraled to this depth. He needed to know everything about you. Uncover each layer delicately.
There was no way he could talk to you. Not yet. You’re way too pretty, he didn’t know enough about you yet. He knew he would fumble his words, and he cannot afford to mess this up. Instead he follows you around, he knows he doesn’t blend in easy but he does his best not to be too obvious. In the same room, but always as far away from you as he could get. Couldn’t risk you getting suspicious or off-put. Sneaking glances in your direction only when he knows you won’t catch his eyes.
It started out innocent enough, just a light stalking and pinning stares. Is that really so bad?
He suspects things started to take a turn when you left behind a tube a chapstick. Oh, god. That tube of fucking chapstick. He knew it was yours because he has watched you apply it from across the room, tracing the path it took around your lips. He couldn’t help the way his cock twitched to attention.
You had rubbed it in and smacked your lips together before continuing your conversation with one of the other cadets. It looked like it was a good conversation - Konig couldn’t help fall in love with you when you have a smile that bright and a laugh distinct enough he could make it out over the crowd if he listened carefully enough. He pretended it was him making you laugh.
You must have been having too good of a time joking around, and while you grabbed your bag, you’d left the distinct and brightly colored tube behind.
Konig’s eyebrows had raised under his hood, and he looked around to see if anyone had noticed. To see if anyone else was going to rush and dive for your chapstick. Such a priceless treasure.
But no, they don’t. And he has to take a moment to ground himself because he can hear blood rushing in his ears and a tent forming in his pants. He watched you as you make your way to the exit, wondering if you were going to remember and make a dash back for it. You’re too focused on the conversation in front of you, readjusting your bag so it sat comfortably on your shoulders. Chapstick was the last thing on your mind. He forced himself to be patient, wait it out just in case you came back for it.
You didn’t.
He had to restrain himself from sprinting to the table you had been sitting at. He did his best to casually swipe it, pocketing it and headed immediately back to his quarters.
Even just rubbing the tube in his pockets between his fingers, knowing it had belonged to you and he was touching something that was yours, it was enough to have him aching against the give in his pants. Not only touched by you - but touched by those perfect soft lips he’s been dreaming about since the moment he saw you.
As soon as he’s back to his room he’s got the cap off the tube and he’s inhaling the scent. What your lips smell like, taste like. He rubs a little on his lips with one hand, palming the erection in his pants with the other. He imagines you leaving the chapstick behind on his lips after a passionate kiss.
It’s not long before he’s got his hands wrapped around his cock, getting off to the scent of your chapstick. He comes embarrassingly quick, and he’d be lying if he claimed he didn’t love the rush. The thrill of being caught following you around. You probably haven’t even noticed him, doesn’t even know he exists. But he knows so much about you, knows the taste of your lips. Such an intimate detail of your life and now it’s his.
The chapstick wasn’t enough. He needed more. He was addicted to you and the thrill of the hunt.
The next thing was not left behind, he swiped it in plain sight. A big score. Extremely high risk, extremely high payoff.
You had been in the middle of drills after changing into your gym clothes in the locker room. It was so impulsive, so dangerous of him, but he had snuck in after confirming it was empty. His heart was pounding so fast. If he had your schedule right he had plenty of time to sneak in and steal your shirt from your locker without you noticing, but if someone were to catch him in the locker room he could get in so much trouble. He moved quick, adrenaline pumping as he grabbed your shirt and hid it under his, practically running back to his quarters.
He felt so ashamed when he checked up on you later to see you still donning your gym shirt.
Oh god, he’s so sorry, liebe, forgive him. He couldn’t help himself. He needed it. Needed to drape it over his face just like his hood and inhale your scent. Notes of detergent and fabric softener and a sweet perfume he couldn’t put his finger on but you smelled so clean and perfect and his cock was rock hard in his uniform as he breathed you in.
He imagined you were still filling it out, riding his cock while you buried his face in your perfect chest. He came so hard, muscles quivering as it spilled over his white knuckles, making sure not to taint your precious shirt. No, he had to make sure to avoid have to wash it. He wants it to keep your scent.
He knew he had really crossed the line when he had snuck into your quarters. Oh, how exhilarating it was. Picking the lock and risking getting caught. He knew you wouldn’t be back for awhile but he had no clue about your roommate, so he’d have to move quick.
Just standing in your quarters, where you slept, relaxed, maybe even pleasured yourself - it was enough to get him rock hard, his breath shallowing. He couldn’t help but put his face on your pillows, wondering what it would feel like to wake up next to you.
He tried not to let himself get carried away, rutting himself against your mattress one last time before forcing himself to get up. He noticed the laundry hamper in the corner and swallowed, staring it down. He didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, the pressure of getting caught multiplying every second he lingered in your room. He quickly dug through your dirty laundry, grabbing the first pair of panties he saw and stuffed them in his pants before making his successful escape.
What a score. A pair of your dirty panties? Pressed up against his cock? He was dizzy, sweating at the reality unfolding before him. He felt drunk and beside himself, practically stumbling to his bed to pull out your panties and inspect closer.
So cute and simple. Classy, just like you. Black with a thin and intricate lace trim around the edges. He puts them up to his face and takes a deep inhale, and almost finishes in his pants right there. He can’t help himself this time. He wrapped your panties around his cock and jerks himself off, the feeling of your soft panties against his tip not giving him a chance. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep this one untainted. No, he spilled all over your pretty and delicate panties, decorating the inside with his come, muttering your name in between the sweet nothings.
He’s not usually like this, please liebe, you have to believe him. It’s just you, you’re so intoxicating he doesn’t know how to behave when you’re around. He’s so sorry, liebe, he just is so desperate when it comes to you.
Won’t you forgive him?
HIS Another Stalker!Konig Fic
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flagbridge · 10 months
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The Raoul (de Chagny) Navy: An Exploration of the Vicomte's Naval Background:
Our beloved Vicomte, Raoul de Chagny, is a young junior officer in the French Navy ("le Royale"), but this hardly gets much exploration. It's a detail that is often glossed over--I anticipate because Naval historians and Phans often do not have much Venn diagram overlap--until now. Let's just say my username is a Naval reference.
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Note: the "Raoul Navy" is not my invention--our hilarious and wise "Phantom Dark Web" friends at Leroux Less Traveled (incl. @box5intern) came up with it, and I love it.
I've started digging into book Raoul and his Naval background and turns out we are missing out a whole lot about Raoul's character background if we don't dig into it. So I'm going to tell you what the book tells us and what that means. I'm going to give you the overall pieces up front, and then explain:
Raoul looks very young and feminine (except for his "little" mustache, which he effectively has grown to prove that he can)--and everyone treats him like a baby
Raoul at this point has already completed three years of Naval training including a world tour, so he is fairly experienced and even worldly for his age. He is described in the French as a "cadet", but he would likely be a sub-lieutenant at this point since he has graduated from the Naval Academy.
He's on a six month leave before going on a very dangerous mission to recover remains of a lost Arctic mission--a mission he himself is unlikely to return from.
And everyone still treats him like he's a baby (especially the old dowager widows), even though he has had quite a bit of life at this point--so he has something to prove.
What we know about Raoul and the Navy (Here is the English):
"He was admirably assisted in this work first by his sisters and afterward by an old aunt, the widow of a naval officer, who lived at Brest and gave young Raoul a taste for the sea. The lad entered the Borda training-ship, finished his course with honors and quietly made his trip round the world. Thanks to powerful influence, he had just been appointed a member of the official expedition on board the Requin, which was to be sent to the Arctic Circle in search of the survivors of the D'Artois expedition, of whom nothing had been heard for three years. Meanwhile, he was enjoying a long furlough which would not be over for six months; and already the dowagers of the Faubourg Saint-Germain were pitying the handsome and apparently delicate stripling for the hard work in store for him."
We also learn in another paragraph that the de Chagnys had admiral in the family, so the Naval connection is likely a family business for second sons. Raoul is a second son, so a career as a military officer would have been a distinguished career for him.
Borda: First ship
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Brest is the main port of the French Navy and home of the Ecole Navale (or French Naval Academy. In the 20th Century it moved, but Brest is still, along with Toulon, a major naval base)
According to the French: Le jeune homme entra au Borda, en sortit dans les premiers numéros et accomplit tranquillement son tour du monde (Note that the French calls him a "young man", not a lad)
The Borda is traditionally the training ship of the French Navy, and there have been six of them. This would have been a cadet/midshipman cruise for Raoul. He would have been on the ex-Valmy, an 120-gun ship of the line, which became the Borda training ship in 1864.
The Borda is also the ship of the Ecole Navale (French Naval Academy)—this means that Raoul attended the academy.
The Naval Academy is two years in Brest, and then their third year is the World Tour—so that timing also aligns with where we are in the book. Raoul would have begun at the academy at 18, and he is at the start of the book, 21 years old.
After the Borda, which he completed with honors, he did an uneventful world tour.
This would have been his third year, still as a midshipman.
He could have been assigned to any ship for this training cruise—possibly a cruiser (the d'Estang is pictured below in 1884 in Algiers), which did long range missions. Note: Their max speed was about 15 Knots (which is a very respectable speed that some warships still transit).
This world tour cold have been as far east as what is now Vietnam, or through the Suez--but likely near French colonies.
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With influence, he is assigned to the Requin expedition.
French: Grâce à de puissants appuis, il venait d'être désigné pour faire partie de l'expédition officielle du Requin, qui avait mission de rechercher dans les glaces du pôle les survivants de l'expédition du d'Artois, dont on n'avait pas de nouvelles depuis trois ans.
The Requin was a real ship in the Mediterranean fleet, but did not go on its first mission until 1885, which means that this is a deliberate or unintentional oversight of either Leroux himself or his narrator. The Requin was a steel hull—and the Artois was actually a 18th century Royal Navy ship so this piece is a complete fabrication. However, Arctic missions at this time were frequent and tended not to go well.
However, Raoul could also be excited about getting to go on a new steel-hulled ship. The Redoutable was already in commission—commissioned in 1876.  Most of the rest of the fleet at this point were ironclads.
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joeyalohadream · 1 month
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I wish you would write a fic where Bucky gets a call that Gale has been in an accident or something, goes to pick him up, Gale isn’t even badly hurt but Bucky still loses his mind and Gale ends up comforting him lol (if u can’t tell im a sucker for hurt gale and hurt/comfort in general lol) .
Also i saw u posting that u feel like u ramble/write too much and i just wanted to say, im so obsessed with ur writing that i eat up anything u write like if u were to post ur shopping list i would probably read it and love it so PLS ALWAYS WRITE TOO MUCH. Thank u for sharing w us ❤️‍🩹
Hi! So sorry this took me so long!
aaaand thank you so much, anon! Your kind words made me feel all warm and fuzzy! (p.s. my shopping list is cat food and wine LOL). I'm glad you enjoy my rambling!
Here is the fic I wrote for your request! 4,047 words of a bit of angst and fluff and some sweetness. Hope you like it!
If you'd rather read a word count like that on AO3, find it here!
It’s six o’clock and John is hungry.
His day had been a good one, but a long one. Flying right seat to several cadets on their second week of actual flying. Witnessing the joy, the reverence the young pilots had experienced behind the yolk had brought back memories of a time when flying had been his favorite thing in the world. Back before it was tainted by terror and death and dread.
It eases something within him to know that he can still find the beauty in it after years of growing to hate something that had once been the thing that made him feel alive.
But it’s Friday night now and his feet will be firmly on the ground for the weekend. A weekend that was supposed to start with a homecooked meal, lovingly prepared by Gale.
With Gale in school and John working full-time, they spend most of their week like passing ships. Evenings are typically a rushed affair of leftovers or a meet-up at the diner half way between the base and Gale’s campus.
Friday nights are John’s favorite though. Gale is out of class by three and home by four. He spends the two hour stretch of time between then and John’s arrival at six cooking the most delicious meals John has ever tasted. A skill he’d developed while trying, and mostly succeeding, in putting some meat back on to their bones after they came home.
But it’s six o’clock and there is no dinner waiting for him. The lights are all off and Gale’s truck is not in the driveway.
He walks through the house, turning on a lamp here, flipping a switch there and tries to temper the feeling of dread that starts prickling under his skin.
After everything they’d been through, it had taken them both a significant amount of time to quell the unrealistic expectation that something was wrong whenever they weren’t within sight of each other.
Neither of them had fully managed to overcome it. Gale calls his office at least twice a week from the payphone at school between classes just to say hello.
John pours himself a glass of water and takes a sip, leaning against the freshly painted cabinets. The soft green hue offers a peaceful warmth in the small kitchen. It had been their project last weekend.
Gale sometimes stays late after his lecture to help some of the younger students that struggle with the concepts. His genius.
But he doesn’t do that on Fridays because Friday nights are their nights.
So why isn’t he here?
He pushes off the counter and takes two steps to the icebox. Opening it reveals the steaks that Gale had prepped for tonight. He contemplates getting them out and trying his hand at making the meal but shuts the door and the thought down immediately.
Despite spending his time practically draped over Gale’s back, chin hooked over his shoulder on the Friday evenings he is home in time to watch him cook, John hadn’t managed to pick up the skill.
Instead of studying the technique, he studies Gale’s confident movements as he chops and tenderizes and slices and measures and stirs. Gale’s hands create nourishment for them while his own hands typically trace the soft skin a Gale’s still too flat belly, the delicate curve of his trim waist, sometimes drifting to skim his pert rear if Gale lets him get away with it.
The thoughts bring a smile to his face. But looking at the clock on the wall that tells him Gale is now over two hours late wipes it away.
He walks back to the front door and out onto the porch to stare down the long driveway that leads up to their home, willing headlights to turn onto it. But time ticks by and the sun is dipping lower on the horizon and Gale still isn’t where he’s supposed to be.
John knows the route Gale takes to and from campus. He’d driven him several times back before they’d acquired a second truck. He fingers the keys in his pocket, wondering how much Gale would rib him for driving the hour to his school when it turns out he just lost track of time.
But it’s Friday night and Gale doesn’t lose track of time, especially when time is leading to them spending their evening wrapped around each other.
John flinches as the silence of the evening is interrupted by the sound of their telephone ringing in the kitchen. Relief floods him a moment later and he slams the screen door open and takes long strides back into the house.
“You better have a good explanation for why I’m not eating a big, juicy steak right now,” he says into the receiver, a smile already pulling at his lips as he waits for Gale’s exasperated tone to filter back through to him.
But there’s silence for a beat and then a throat is cleared and then John’s heart starts to pound a little faster.
“Um, hello,” a voice that is distinctly not Gale comes through the connection. “Is this John Egan?”
“Yes,” John replies, switching the phone to his other hand, hoping it’s less wet. It’s not. “Who’s this?”
“I’m a nurse at Lakeside Memorial,” she supplies and John’s knees go weak. “I’m calling because your friend, Gale Cleven, was brought in about an hour ago. He was in an accident.”
Words won’t form, but some unintelligible noise escapes his mouth in response. For a moment, he’s not in their softly lit, freshly painted kitchen. He’s in a phone booth in London and it’s the worst moment of his life.
He went down swingin’.
The cord stretches its length as his legs decide to stop functioning and he slides down to the floor, back pressed against the green cabinet doors.
“Mr. Egan, are you still there?”
Is he? Or is he back on the bombed-out streets of a city he never should have gone to?
“I’m here,” he grinds out as he closes his eyes and reminds himself to breathe. Pictures Gale in front of him, one hand planted on his chest, the other cradling his cheek. Breathe, darlin’, he’d say. He’s said it to him countless times since they’d reunited back in the Stalag. He’s said it to him in their bedroom, in their yard, in this kitchen. He needs to know if he’ll ever hear him say it again. “Is he okay?”
“I can’t give out medical information over the phone,” the nurse tells him, and John tightens his grip on the phone, anger rising, but she continues before he can spew it over the line. “But Mr. Cleven asked me to call you himself.”
He takes a deep breath, the slightest bit of relief mixing with the dread coiling itself around his heart.
“You understand?” The nurse’s voice is back in his ear. She couldn’t tell him how he was, but she told him enough to let him know that he was well enough to be talking and that’s enough for him to know that Gale is still here. He nods and then remembers he’s alone.
“Yes, I understand,” he says. “Lakeside Memorial?”
“That’s correct,” she confirms, sounding patient. John imagines she makes these calls every day. He wouldn’t like that job. “Come in through the emergency room doors and we’ll get you sorted.”
“Thank you,” his voice wobbles a bit too much, but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed. There’s a click over the line that tells him she’s hung up, so he lets the phone drop and then presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and presses hard. He chokes on his next inhale and feels his shoulders shake.
But Gale needs him. He’s hurt and he wants John to come to him and he needs to get up off this floor, right now.
The room sways a bit as he gets to his feet, head feeling fuzzy. He thinks maybe he hasn’t been breathing correctly since the nurse’s voice came through the phone instead of Gale’s.
Breathe, darlin’.
In through his nose, out through his mouth. It helps a bit.
----
Physically, He slides into the driver’s seat of their new pick-up truck and starts the engine. That phone call left him with only questions and his hands sweat as they grip the leather of the steering wheel. His foot feels numb as he presses it to the gas in order to go find answers.
Mentally, he’s sliding into his seat on a train car that’s leading him to a destination with no answers to be had, no sweet smile or soft laughter or dazzling blue eyes waiting for him. No joy, only pain. No Gale. Because he went down swingin’.
The crushing sadness that had invaded every nerve in his system after he’d walked out of that phone booth all those years ago suddenly feels like it never went away. Like he could wake up and realize that this year of domestic bliss hadn’t happened. Like Gale wasn’t his and Gale wasn’t here, and Gale wasn’t anywhere. He shakes his head, as if he could physically knock the horrible images out of his mind.
Headlights shine through his windshield, streetlamps coming on along the road as the sun continues setting. He knows the way to the emergency room. It’s on the way to Gale’s campus. His body operates on auto pilot to get him there, his head is in the clouds or in the dirt or somewhere else entirely.
He needs Gale to be okay. It’s hard to breathe again.
Gale would be so angry at him for driving like this. Gale will be so angry with him for driving like this.
----
It takes him a moment to realize why every head in the room turns to him when he walks through the door. His hands shake as he straightens out his uniform jacket and runs fingers through his curls, realizing he forgot his cap. Not very officer-like to be out in public without the proper uniform.
To his surprise, it takes barely a word from him for a young orderly to lead him to Gale. No argument about how he’s not family, even though he is Gale’s only family. No odd looks about why it isn’t Gale’s wife or mother or father coming to see him.
He thinks his feet might be numb and he finds that odd, but they still put in the work and follow the man in scrubs to a row of curtained off exam rooms. Further relief crackles in his chest when he realizes they’re headed for one specific curtain. Gale isn’t in surgery or in a private room. He’s in the same kind of place John had sat a few months ago when he’d needed stiches on his thumb.
Maybe he’s okay.
Please be okay.
His heart rate increases as the orderly gestures him forward and then turns to leave. He takes a steadying breath, ducks around the fabric and is greeted with two sky-blue eyes and a sheepish looking smile directed his way.
“You’re here,” Gale breathes out, the sound of utter relief in his voice. John stares at him. He thinks the numbness in his feet might be creeping up into the rest of his body. “John?”
The small smile Gale had thrown him upon his arrival is wiped away as concern twists his features and John wants to laugh but all he can do is stare for some reason. He’s staring intently at the younger man, watches as his brows furrows and he shifts on the plastic wrapped table he’s sitting on.
“John,” Gale tries again, a wince pulling his features down for a moment. “You with me?”
The curtain draws open. The shrill sound of the metal rings grating against the pole makes John cringe and snap his gaze away from Gale to take in the sight of a white-haired nurse with a friendly smile, kind eyes and a clipboard in her hand.
“Is this the friend you mentioned?” She addresses Gale, walking over to where he’s sitting awkwardly hunched on the exam table. “The one you served with?”
John swallows and straightens his shoulders as the nurse’s eyes find his. He hears Gale clear his throat and mutter a quiet, “yes, ma’am.”
His hands are sweating where they hang uselessly at his sides. He can breathe easier than he managed to on the drive over, now that he has Gale in his sights, but his heartbeat is too fast, rabbiting away in chest like its being chased by a predator. His eyes flit from the nurse to Gale and back again and he knows he should speak, but his tongue feels heavy, and his mouth is dry, and he feels like maybe he should be the one sitting on the exam table.
“Nurse Amy,” Gale comes to his rescue. “This is John Egan. John, this is Nurse Amy. She’s the one that called you after making sure I was alright.”
Gale is looking at him with understanding and patience, concern and a little bit of what looks like desperation. His beautiful face is all bruised up, small cuts around his temple. Just like Regensburg. There’s blood on the collar of his shirt, not a lot, but it’s Gale’s and it’s not supposed to be on the outside of him, not ever again.
John’s breath hitches and Gale leans forward, eyes softening. “Which I am, John. I’m alright.”
He hears the nurse make a tutting sound, but he can’t take his eyes off Gale again. Ever again, maybe.
“X-rays came back, Mr. Cleven,” she says, all business. “You were correct in your self-assessment. No broken bones.” John watches as Gale nods as her, but his eyes immediately drift back to John. “But you do have a slight hairline fracture in your wrist, so we’ll need to wrap it.”
“Fine,” Gale clips out, polite but impatient. “Can you just give us a few minutes? Need to talk to my friend here about the truck.”
“I’ll be back in ten to wrap that wrist up for you, try to keep it still,” she agrees and then she’s gone and they’re alone.
“I don’t care about the damn truck,” John finally finds his voice, even if it sounds rough to his own ears.
“I know that,” Gale cocks his head a bit, his own voice sounds a little off now that John’s ears aren’t ringing as badly as before. “What’d you want me to tell her? Get out so I can have a moment alone with my fella?”
John wants to laugh; he loves it when Gale teases him. But a choking sound comes out instead and he shakes his head and just breathes. Gale starts to slide off the table and it makes John stumble forward, hands outstretched.
“Wait,” he says as he reaches Gale’s knees. He looks him over again, hating the evidence of any kind of violence on a man as sweet and gentle as Gale. “Just, stay there. Don’t move.”
“John, I’m fine,” Gale reaches out with his left hand, his right laying motionless across his lap. John’s eyes trace over the abraded skin and the already swollen looking joint. “Can you say the same?”
John pulls a face but can’t contradict the man sitting in front of him. He needs to pull himself together. Gale is here, he’s not blown to bits over Germany or lost behind enemy lines. But any kind of unknown right now is too much for John. He places a hand over one of Gale’s knees, lets his thumb start a back-and-forth motion, lets the repetitiveness of it soothe them both.
“You’re in the emergency room,” John points out. “People that are ‘fine’ don’t really get brought here.”
“Wasn’t my choice,” Gale grumbles, looking petulant and John kind of wants to shake him a bit. “You looked worse than me when you walked in here. Are you okay?”
“Tell me about all this?” He motions to Gale’s face, frowning and ignoring how Gale looks annoyed at him for brushing past his own question.
“Just got a bit banged up,” Gale tells him. John squeezes his knee and eases a bit at the eye roll it gets him. “Hit my head on the window when I hit the tree.”
“You hit a tree?”
“So that I wouldn’t hit the dog that ran out in front of me.”
And John wants to reprimand him. Wants to remind him that it’s a golden rule on the road not to swerve and cause more damage just to avoid an animal. But he also knows that the man in front of him would rather suffer these consequences than to ever take the life of someone’s pet. It’s one of the thousands of things he loves about him.
“Of course,” he returns, finally allowing a small smile to graze his own lips. It wobbles a bit at the look of relief it brings out in Gale’s eyes. “You’re really okay?”
“Mild concussion and a bruised jaw and you heard about the wrist. Everything else is superficial, I promise.” Gale tries to soothe, but all John can think of is how much worse this could have been. He closes his eyes, his breathing picks up a bit and then there’s a warm pressure on his chest and a matching one on his cheek.
“Breathe, darlin’,” Gale’s low voice whispers out between them and John shudders, letting his weight fall forward a bit against the strength behind Gale’s hand. “Just breathe. I’m right here. I’m okay.”
It takes him a few moments to grasp it, to accept it. Gale is hurt. But he’s okay. He’s going to be okay. The dueling sensations of relief and fear war inside of him to brew a nasty storm that leaves him feeling exhausted.
“This one really freaked you out, huh?” A thumb strokes over his cheek and John leans into the sensation. “I’m sorry, John.”
“God, baby,” John lets out on an exhale, opening his eyes and finding those beautiful blues looking right back at him. “I think I’m gonna have to homeschool you from now on. Can’t let you outta my sight.”
Soft huffs of laughter ripple from Gale and he looks up at him, amusement dancing across his face. “You an expert in advanced physics, Major?”
“You might just have to switch your major, Major.”
Gale grins at him and shakes his head and it feels so good to make him happy. It’s John’s favorite thing in the world.
“How about we settle for you driving me around again for a while? Just like old times,” Gale asks. “I might’ve totaled the truck.”
John nods an affirmative, ignoring the way the mention of their truck makes his pulse spike unpleasantly again. Gale removes his hand from his face, a grimace pulling at his brows as he lowers the injured limb back to lap.
“She told you to keep that still,” John chides, feeling foolish for not remembering sooner. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
Gale smiles up at him, a little innocent, a little playful.
“Whatever you want, John.”
This time the spike in his pulse is a pleasant one as he imagines all of the ways he can take of this man in the coming days.
“I’m holding you to that,” John tells him. It’s his turn now to reach out and cradle a bruised jaw, he frowns again at the bruising painted across the delicate skin and lets his thumb caress it for a moment. Gale’s eyes fall shut.
“It’s almost been ten minutes, Bucky.”
“I know, Buck.” He leans down and presses his lips to Gale’s forehead, lets them linger for a moment. Then another. Noses his blond hair and breathes him in. Overly bright blue eyes watch him step a respectable distance away to await Nurse Amy’s return.
He feels unsteady, but less like he might shake apart. Gale smiles at him from the table and he feels a little better.
----
Nearly an hour later, Gale’s wrist has been splinted and wrapped, he’s holding a bottle of painkillers that John knows he’ll have to fight to get him to take and he’s clumsily signed the abundance of paperwork with his left hand. It’s completely dark when they exit the emergency room, walking close enough together that their shoulders brush as they move.
A few steps from the truck, Gale stops in his tracks and John halts to match him, worry ratcheting back up.
“It’s Friday night,” Gale mutters, sounding a little frail. John pictures them savoring steaks and roasted vegetables and a pie after dinner and understands where his thoughts have strayed. After living in such a state of hypervigilance with stakes too high to contemplate for years of their lives, they now take the time to enjoy every slow moment of peace they can get together. Missing one feels monumental sometimes. John will just have to make this weekend one to remember.
“Hey,” John reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. “There’s always tomorrow and the next day. And every day after that.”
Gale gives him a small smile, nods and lets John usher him to the truck, waiting patiently for John to open the passenger door for him. He stops again, one leg in the truck and looks back at John, brows pulled down in a frown.
“Are you sure you’re good to drive?”
John can’t help but laugh. “What? Are you going to drive us home, Mr. Concussion?”
“It’s only a mild one,” Gale grumbles. John rolls his eyes and pushes Gale up and into his seat, shutting the door on him before he can protest.
When he gets himself behind the wheel, Gale’s hand covers his before he can put the key into the ignition.
“Buck,” John starts, but one look at the concern in Gale’s eyes stops him from complaining.
“Think maybe, you started panicking when that nurse called ya.” There’s understanding in Gale’s gaze and John swallows heavily, images of a phone booth blurring with their soft green cabinets. “And I don’t know if you’ve really stopped yet. I hate the thought of you driving over here like that.”
And John understands where he’s coming from. They both have their bad days. They’re growing less frequent all the time, but they’ve been a witness to nightmares, to bouts of sadness and rage and fear and panic. He hates to see Gale like that, and John knows the feeling is mutual. The thought of it happening while one of them is alone is a reality they have to live with.
“I had to, Buck,” John points out. He doesn’t bother denying the allegation. “The only way I was going to be okay was to make sure you were okay.”
Gale ducks his head slightly for a moment, still not used to being the most important person in anybody’s world. But John’s been slowly teaching him how to accept it and he can’t help but smile when tired blue eyes lift back up to meet his.
“Slide your sweet self over here and let me feel ya while I drive,” Johns lifts his arm and rests it along the back of the bench seat. “That’ll be enough to keep my head on straight while I get us home.”
A moment of contemplation later, Gale slides over until his shoulder is tucked under John’s armpit. He rests his uninjured hand on John’s thigh, fingers gripping the fabric of his trousers and John smiles into his hair before reaching around him to start the truck.
“Take the back roads?” Gale looks up at him through his lashes and John’s heart rate finally settles into a normal rhythm now that it’s reason for beating is resting against him.
“You read my mind, sweetheart,” John presses his lips to the top of his head and turns onto the unlit road leading away from town, away from prying eyes.
Gale turns his body slightly on the seat and makes himself comfortable, settles with his head pillowed on John’s chest, arm draped over his waist. John lets his arm rest around his back, holding him close and planning on never letting him go.
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factorydefaultlu · 1 year
Text
Koby's pirate girlfriend sneaking into the barracks in the middle of the night. She covers his mouth to keep him from gasping or saying anything. She quickly starts to kiss him and Koby is panicking, he doesn't want to get caught. He doesn't want her to get caught.
His heart pounds against his ribs and bites his tongue as she feels him up, her hands reach under his pillow for more leverage and she stops abruptly. She smirks and pulls the pair of panties she gave him from under the pillow. Koby stares up at her, feeling guilty even though she's the one that stuffed them in his pocket. She gets an idea, and taps Koby's lips. He instinctively opens his mouth.
"Good boy." she whispers. Before Koby can think, shes stuffing the panties in his mouth. The crotch pressed right against his tongue and he can taste the dried remnants of her tangy slick. He let's out a shaky sigh, wishing he could taste it right from the source. She pats his cheek and slides a hand down his chest she rubs the place where she knows his surgery scars are, then continues down to tug his pajama pants lower.
Koby is still a nervous wreck, but his cunt is throbbing, begging to be touched. Her fingers make quick work on his clit, circling and rubbing the bud just right. His breathing picks up and he swallows down all his moans, tongue writhing against the fabric of her panties. He's so lost in the pleasure he's feeling, Koby let's his eyes fall shut as she continues her work on his clit. He's not sure when she stopped, or when she left. Koby was entranced by her touch that he hadn't even realized.
He finally opened his eyes, and he could see the sun rising outside the window. Koby quickly shoves the panties back into his pillowcase and rushes to get ready before the morning drills start. None of the other cadets had gotten up yet. Good. No one saw him, or her. Especially her.
Later that day though, Helmeppo had leaned towards him during chores and whispered.
"You should really be more quiet when you masturbate. Remember, I sleep on the bunk above you. It's weird to hear you in the middle of the night."
Koby almost chokes on the air in his lungs.
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