#the b man is one of my faves!!!! I love this so much….. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noctiva · 1 month ago

Note

Toby with an intox kink so he gets reader all high and needy for him

DUDE I was literally just geeking about this exact concept bc one of my fave nsfw artists did this with her oc and OOOOH LORD! r u in my walls 🤨

I’ve said before tho that I won’t write noncon despite the circumstances soooo here’s my take on it <3

Dilation

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

WC: 7.6k

Summary: You have a hobby of getting way too wasted around your far too loving boyfriend. So he gains a hobby of fucking you through it.

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, dom/sub undertones, drugging, mildly dubious consent, like… reader is aware she’s being drugged but still, CNC I suppose, aphrodisiacs, coercion kind of, dead doveeeee, vaginal fingering, unsafe sex, wet and messy, drool and spit, creampie, hair pulling, begging + teasing, dirty talk, slight degradation, mocking, but also praise, dacryphilia, overstimulation, marking and biting, slight dummification, toby being mean hot

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the actions written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Be safe!

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

“Open up, b-baby.”

On the edge of Toby’s bed, you sit. It’s a late Saturday night; the curtains are drawn, the lights are low, and the soft sound of some 2000s era rock song hums out from the speakers of your boyfriend’s old stereo set.

Your legs are bare, swinging off the side of the bed as you peer up at him eagerly. The bottom half of your body donned nothing but a pair of soft cotton panties. The top half, one of Toby’s old shirts. You had stolen it awhile ago, made it yours by snipping off the collar so that it would hang loosely off your shoulder.

It’s warm in his room, and so your skin is flushed a soft pink tone - making you just seem to glow in the eyes of the man who stood before you.

Toby, is fully clothed. Baggy jeans with a torn and frayed sweater. Hair pushed off of his forehead by those goofy orange goggles he loved so much. His facial expression, is the real eye-catcher though.

Dark eyes that spark with something dangerous, half-hidden behind lust-heavy drooping lids. His lips are curved into a smirk that is nothing short of devious. When he leans closer, it widens into a toothy grin, sharp canines glinting in the low light.

He reaches down with his left hand, rough calloused fingers rubbing against your cheeks when he squishes your face into a pucker. You don’t need to ask to know he wants you to part your lips.

It’s made pretty obvious, by the pretty pink pill pinched between the fingers of his right hand.

How again, did you find yourself in this situation?

It started off innocently. A few nights when you had one too many shots, which left you leaning against Toby like an anchor - skin hot and breathing laboured as you pressed your face to the crook of his neck. So woozy you could barely stand, vision swimming, your body heavy as you laid your whole weight onto him.

A few nights when you had gotten rowdier, taking substances you’d giggle off when Toby asked about them. Things that made you bubblier, made you sway on your feet and laugh at jokes that were barely even funny. Things that made your pupils blow wide.

Things that made you crave Toby’s body like he was the addictive substance.

Lucky for you, your boyfriend was nothing if not a gentleman.

He had told himself, time and time again, that he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Wouldn’t break the trust of the woman he loved so dearly. Even when you were smearing sloppy kisses up his neck as your fingers curled into the fabric of his clothes. Even when your hand wandered lower, tugging at his belt impatiently as soft little whines left your lips.

But, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely adore you like that.

All strung out and hazy, eyes unfocused with pupils dilated - staring up at him like he was a god amongst men. Your slurred speech, lips glistening with drool and bitten raw. You were a vision, an absolute vision, and you were all his. Barely even conscious, and yet he was the one you always gravitated to. Never straying, only getting needier and needier the more he denied your inebriated advances.

Your lips would wrinkle into a pout, eyes shining with unshed tears as you pawed at his clothes. Hands clumsy and movements uncoordinated. He’d hold you upright on his lap, trying to feed some water into your parched mouth, and you’d ignore him. Much more inclined to desperately grind against his clothed crotch - soaked panties staining the front of his jeans with your slick.

You were so lovely like that. And so sensitive too. He barely had to even touch you to get a reaction. Brushing a few sweaty strands of hair out of your face elicited a whine, and gently gripping your waist to keep you upright had you arching into his touch.

It was like you went into heat. A scalding hot ball of desperation and desire, pressing up to him as close as you could get - like if you tried hard enough, you could phase through his clothes.

Was it so insane, that he found it incredibly provocative?

You turned into this lust-drunk little doll, with a one-track mind seemingly only focused on getting his dick out of his pants. You’d nip and bite at his skin, whine and plead to the point where tears would spring to your eyes - desperate to get off, because the heat between your legs was too much to bear. And, in your mind, he was the only cure.

Good. That’s what he should be.

It had quickly become harder and harder to bear each time it happened, his composure weakening and his desires mounting.

“T-Toby…” You had whined low in his ear one night, heat radiating off of you as you lazily rolled your hips against his lap. “I need it. You know I need it.”

“Oh, b-believe me. I know baby.” He had chuckled softly, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hipbones as you rocked against him. You were dressed so pretty too, for the little social gathering the two of you were sat in the corner of. A low cut little tank top and a flowy skirt, so soft to the touch.

“Then why won’t ya’ give it to me?” Your words were slurred and soft, lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you spoke. “I can feel it, you know. You’re so hard, I know you want it too.”

Of course you could. A man can only be so strong after all, so how else was he supposed to react with his scantily clad girlfriend desperately grinding against his lap? You were so warm too, your heat seeping into his skin, making his pulse skyrocket. He knew, that you’d let him do anything in the world to you right then, but he just couldn’t.

He couldn’t. He was better than that. “Just… Just let me sit on it. You don’t even gotta do anything.” Oh for fuck’s sake. “No one would notice.”

They sure as hell would. Because Toby knew, that the moment he sunk into your glorious pussy - which he knew was soaking wet and eager to take him - he wouldn’t be content with just letting you warm his cock. He’d want to fuck you proper, bounce your limp, drugged out body on his lap until you were cumming so hard it brought you to tears. Fuck you through it while he sucked on your pretty tits, seeing just how much you could take.

He would bet it was a lot. You’d probably just take it and take it, clinging to him as he clawed at your skin. Sinking into you over and over again, stretching you out around him - too dazed to tell him if it was too much.

He doubted anything would be too much for you in this state though.

But he couldn’t. Not without a heavy conscience.

“Not t-tonight, my love.” He had hummed back to you, deliberately ignoring how his cock throbbed with each roll of your hips. “I th-think you just need some wa-water.”

However, as he had said, he was only so strong. So naturally, it didn’t take him long to bring it up in conversation with you when you were sober.

“You ever n-notice how slutty you get when you’re o-off a pill?” It was such a scandalous question to be asked over breakfast, words partially muffled by the slice of toast he was shovelling into his mouth, and yet he couldn’t think of a more eloquent way to put it.

Besides, the look you had given him - completely taken aback, and maybe a little offended - was pretty funny, so he didn’t regret his choice of words one bit.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” You had snapped back at him, eyes narrowed as you pressed your elbows against the tabletop and leaned towards him.

“You h-heard me.” He snorted back to you, his expression delightfully amused with a playful eyebrow raised. Your defiant attitude was nothing but cute in his opinion. “You’re barely high ff-for an hour before you’re tryin’ to j-jump my bones.” He watched how your expression filed through a myriad of different emotions - shock, shame, embarrassment - as he took a sip of coffee. “Grinding on m-my dick like we’re the only two p-people in the room. You make such a ss-scene.”

“I…” You leaned back in your seat, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. But not as vibrant as they were when you were melting into him. “I do remember that.”

“And?” He laughed softly. “G-Got anything to say about it?”

You were silent for a few moments, nibbling your bottom lip between your teeth as your foot tapped impatiently against the wooden floor of his cabin. So flustered, he worried for a moment if he had taken things a step too far, but then you were muttering out;

“Why haven’t you ever indulged me?”

That, was how you ended up here. In Toby’s bedroom, your tongue sticking out of your mouth as your loving boyfriend placed a pill upon it.

Immediately, it started to dissolve when it met your saliva - a sight that Toby watched with a keen interest, the twisted grin never leaving his face as he took in the way it tinted your spit pink. “Y-You need water?” He asked softly, to which you shook your head before closing your mouth. “Good girl, then ss-swallow.”

You do, easily, without hesitation. Letting the drug slide down your throat as you locked eyes with the man above you. You’d think Toby was the one under the influence, with the way his pupils had blown out completely. Eyes fixated on you like you were the focal point of his entire universe, because right now - that’s exactly what you were. “That’s my g-girl.” He murmured, words dripping with nothing but adoration. “Now, we wait.” He pinched your cheek gently. “You w-wanna get comfy?”

Immediately, you’re nodding, your pulse already thumping rapidly in your chest. The effects of the drug hadn’t even started to take effect yet, but it was the anticipation that was making you antsy. Knowing that it was coming, slowly dissolving in your stomach and getting ready to circulate through your veins.

Toby gives you a sickeningly sweet smile before he’s joining you on the bed. He wraps his arms around you, gently tugging you down as he settles against the pillows placed against the headboard. You lounge against his chest, arms rested around his neck as you snuggle against him.

Your t-shirt rides high as you get comfortable, exposing the curve of your plush ass barely covered by those thin little panties. And… It’s tempting. So tempting that Toby’s fingers twitch where they’re resting on the small of your back, but he holds himself back. He can be patient. It’ll all be worth it if he just waits until the good part. “G-Gave you somethin’ Cody cooked up this t-time around.” He hums as he rubs gentle circles against your back. “He said it’ll make you f-feel real nice.”

“Yeah?” You ask softly, resting your cheek against his shoulder as you peer up at him. “He better have tested it first. I’m not trying to be one of his lab rats.”

Toby lets out a chuckle, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest - and you can feel the vibrations against your rib cage.

“‘Course he d-did.” He assured you softly, before leaning down to press a soft kiss against the crown of your head. “You really think I-I’d ever put you in danger?”

You knew he wouldn’t. There was a reason you were so inclined to get all sloppy and dazed around him. Because he kept you safe. He always kept you safe.

“No.” You murmur back to him as you relax into him more. You can feel your muscles starting to go lax, any lingering aches and pains from the stressors of the day melting away easily. It must be starting to kick in. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, and let out a shaky sigh. “You’d never.”

“T-That’s right.” Toby breathes back to you. He can feel it as you start to melt into him, your heart thumping so rapidly in your chest that he can feel it against his own. “I-I’d kill him myself if he gave me s-somethin’ that might hurt you. He knows that t-too.”

Your eyes flutter as you press against him further. He’s so warm. So warm and he smells so good, it makes you feel dizzy every time you take a breath in. You lean up, rubbing your nose behind his ear and into his hair - drinking in the scent that had your whole body starting to heat up. He smelled like smoke and pine. Copper and tobacco. Each smell swirling together to create something that had you moaning softly as you inhaled it - your hand coming up to cup the back of his head.

There it is. Toby thinks to himself, his lips curling up into a smile as you start rubbing up onto him - your fingers shaky as they thread into his hair. “Y-You’re feeling it now, aren’t you, b-baby?” He asks lowly, squeezing your hip lightly with one hand as the other one moves upwards. “C’mon, l-look at me. Let me see that puh-pretty face.”

His other hand grasps your chin, gently tilting it upwards so that he can get a good look at you. And once he does, you leave him breathless.

Your pupils are practically swallowing your irises - like two black holes staring back at him as he looked down at you in awe. The flush you had been painted with had grown darker, a deep pink hue coating your cheeks and spreading down to your neck. You were practically panting, breathing laboured breaths through your mouth that quivered on exhale. “Ah, l-look at you.”

Toby’s hand slides up your jaw before he’s cupping your face tenderly, a look of absolute adoration in his eyes as he gazes at the spaced out look taking over your eyes. “Hah-“ He breathes out, before his hand drifts higher, using two fingers to open your eye wider. “Y-Your pupils are so big…”

When your response is nothing but a pitiful little whine, his heart rate kicks up a notch. “Oh, wow.” He murmurs. “Th-This is really the good ss-stuff, huh?” His hand trails back down your face, and you lean into his touch almost mindlessly. “How’re you feelin’, puh-pretty girl?”

“Dizzy.” You slur softly, your vision starting to swim as you try and focus on the sight of Toby’s face. Also, when did it get so hot in here? With barely any clothing on, you were still burning up - sweat starting to moisten your skin as your breathing grew ragged. “I… I feel dizzy.”

“D-Dizzy, good?” Toby asks, and then the hand on your waist starts to wander, slipping further down to graze against the curve of your ass. “Or dizzy, b-bad?” His palm splays against one cheek, and god now he feels so cool in comparison to you. You feel like you’re slowly being set on fire, and Toby’s touch - it feels like ice against your clammy skin. It’s so soothing, so good, you can’t help but arch into him.

“Dizzy… Good.” You mumble, before you’re nudging your face out of his grip. Back into the crook of your neck, you move, then parting your lips to drag your tongue against the skin there. And oh, he tastes like heaven. So much so that you let out a shaky moan that vibrates against his neck, before your hands are clawing upwards so that you can get push yourself even closer. “You… You taste good.” Your words are slurred and partially muffled, but they ring in his ears. “So good.”

“Yeah?” Toby lets out an amused little chuckle as his fingers sink into the cushy soft flesh they had been spread against - giving your ass a soft squeeze that only proves to rile you up further. “H-How good?”

“Really-“ Your fingers curl into his hair and tug, drawing him closer as your lips move against his neck - so sloppy, smearing spit against him with every touch. “Really fuckin’ good. God-“ The best way to describe it would be to say that you felt like you were drowning, or maybe… you were set on fire. Both? It was hard to even accurately determine what the hell you were feeling right then, all you knew was that every single sense of yours seemed to be working on overdrive.

Your skin was buzzing, tingling with desire every time it touched his. You could hear every little sound he made, from the rhythmic thump of his heart beat to the shaky little huffs of breath leaving his lips. The taste of his skin was somehow the sweetest thing that had ever graced your tongue. He smelled like his natural scent had been created just to make your head spin. And the way he looked right now was a whole different story.

You force yourself to pull your head out of the crook of his neck so that you can look at him, and your breathing just grows shakier. Practically panting as you stare down at him, this marvel of a man - his hair splayed against the pillows behind his head, the goggles nestled within them falling onto his forehead slowly. Everything about him just seemed so much more vibrant, more enticing. From the way he licked his dry lips and left them glistening, to how his eyes were roaming the sight of you appreciatively.

He looked like he could just devour you. And you wanted that. You wanted that bad. “Toby…” You whine softly, leaning in closer as your hands fist into the front of his hoodie. It’s hard to think proper, even harder to form words - and so you’re left pitifully clawing at his clothes whilst pressing your forehead to his. Breathing hot and heavy against his face, your eyes clouded over as you gaze down at him.

He raises an eyebrow at you playfully, and he’s not getting the hint as quickly as you need him to. Maybe that’s on purpose. Regardless, his nonchalant attitude quickly twists you into a knot. You tug at the collar of his sweater impatiently, your hands clumsy as you let out a soft disgruntled mewl. You need this stupid fabric off now. Needed more of his skin on yours. Needed him to cool you down before you burst into flames.

With how your vision was already swimming, you don’t even notice when frustrated tears begin building up in your eyes - but Toby does instantly.

“H-Hey, shh…” He hushes you softly the moment those sweet tears start to build, bringing his hand up to gently cup your cheek. You lean into it immediately, eagerly drinking up the feeling of his skin against yours. It’s so soft, so grounding. Everything that you need right now. “There’s no n-need to start cryin’ a-already. Just gotta t-tell me what you need.”

He knew what you needed. It was pretty damn obvious. But, he wanted to hear you say it. And besides, the way you were slurring and stumbling over your words right now was downright adorable. It was like you were melting in his hands.

You take in a few gasping breaths, trying to steady your breathing but doing so in vain, before you part your lips. Normally, when you’re under the influence your mouth is dryer than a desert, but whatever the hell Cody gave you had the exact opposite effect. You can feel drool pooling in your mouth, and when you try to speak some of it comes dripping out - hitting the front of Toby’s sweater and staining it.

A sight that immediately had Toby’s cock jumping. He made a mental note to give that lab freak a sincere ‘thank you’ after all of this was over. You slurp up the excess saliva threatening to spill over again and swallow it down, before you’re finally managing out a few shaky words.

“I need this off.” You breathe as you tug at his sweater again to further enunciate your point. “Pants too.” You add, all shyness lost of you as you struggle to keep a clear head. “Need you naked.”

Toby cracks a grin, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. You were so fucking cute like this. Your usual filter completely gone, not caring how desperate you sounded if it meant you would get him inside you sooner. His thumb hooks into your mouth, then it’s stretching your lips as he tugs your cheek to the side to expose your teeth. Immediately, drool starts dripping down his thumb before sliding down his wrist and dirtying the sleeve of his sweater.

“S-Such a mess.” He murmurs softly, his words completely awestruck. You’re just bending to his will so easily, letting him push and pull you into whatever he saw fit. It seemed like just the feeling of his skin alone was just taking you higher, if the way you melted into his touch was anything to go by. “You want me t-to fuck you that b-bad?”

“Yes-“ You immediately gasp out. And just the idea of that being a possibility has the heat you’re coated in spiking to a suffocating degree. It’s searing across your skin, travelling down and settling deep in your gut. Down further, it makes your cunt throb, already dampening the material of your panties and he hadn’t even touched you yet. “Please.”

And Toby knows it. He can tell by the way you’ve started pathetically rutting against him, your hips chasing any sort of stimulation to placate you. His poor girl was burning up. He’d bet you were just dying for it.

“Yeah?” He whispers, his voice low and gravelly - the sound seemingly fine tuned to resonate deep in the pit of your stomach. “Sh-Should I find out if you’re r-ready for it?”

He brings his free arm down to wedge between your two bodies, making sure to drag his hand across your abdomen the whole way down. You arch into it, gasping at the slightest touch, but it’s when his fingers meet the fabric of your underwear that you completely jolt. Your hips immediately kick forwards, trying to speed up the process of getting him where you need him most. “You’re ss-so impatient.” Toby chuckles darkly. “Is it r-really that bad?”

It’s only seconds later that he answers his own question. He wastes no time slipping his hand below the waist line of your panties, fingers dipping into your folds. When he does, even he can’t help but gasp. You’re absolutely soaked. Dripping with slick that coats his fingers upon contact.

Toby can feel you throb under his touch, your clit already so swollen and desperate - so hot, he can feel the heat completely radiating off of you. “Oh, it is.” He murmurs out, his voice growing hoarser by the minute. He rubs you gently, not dipping inside you yet, just spreading around all the slick that was leaking out of you. He catches your clit between two fingers and pinches it lightly, an action that had you completely crumpling.

You choke out the most delicious noise Toby’s ever heard you produce, wetting his hoodie with saliva as you press your head against his chest with a mouth hung agape. “Oh, p-poor baby.” He coos gently, unable to help the sly grin on his face as he starts working you over with slow gentle circles of his fingers. It’s not enough pressure to satisfy you, he knows that, but the way you squirm and cry to try and get more is just so lovely. “Why d-don’t you tell me how bad you n-need it?”

It’s a cruel ask right now. You’re gasping out mindless babble against his chest, fingers curling into his sweater so tight he’s convinced you might just rip it. Your eyes are so far away and foggy, it doesn’t look like you have a single thought bouncing around in the pretty little head of yours.

Just from his fingers too. Just from his fingers playing with your clit. He hadn’t even sunk them into you yet.

God, you were a dream.

“T-Toby-“ You slur out, eyes drooping as you roll your hips back to meet his movements - grinding against his fingers to add the pressure he was refusing to give you. “I need it. I can’t-“ The heat was starting to mount, the knot in your stomach tying so tight it made your thighs quiver. “Anything. Just give me anything. Please.”

“Anything?” Toby raises an eyebrow. He can feel the way you’re starting to shake, brows pinching together as your little moans grow higher in pitch. Already so close. Just one of many for the night. “So, I c-can just fuck you with my fingers then? Th-That would satisfy you?”

“No.” You cry, your voice so desperate and whiny it made his chest tighten. His pants were even tighter though, a fact that he had been choosing to ignore up until now just to give you his undivided attention. If he was being honest, he could probably cum just from watching you. Watching how you melted into a delicious puddle of drool and tears.

“You said a-anything.” He laughs softly, absolutely enamoured with your pitiful state. He could keep you like this forever. Keep you teetering on the edge as you begged for him with tears clinging to your lashes.

“Mean.” You whine softly. You’re still rutting against him, soaking his hand with your essence, and you’re so close. You just need a little more. “You’re so mean.”

“I g-guess I am.” He hums back to you, so sickly amused by the display in front of him. His free hand trails down your neck before cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the fabric of your t-shirt. “I’m the one who g-got you so fucked up. I should p-probably be nicer, hm?”

“Please.” You slur out again, your expression wrinkled with pleasure as you gasp against his chest. The way he’s grasping your tit is rough, almost painful, but it’s just what you need right now. So mind-numbingly good, the way all of these sensations are playing against one another.

“Alright, a-alright.” Toby chuckles softly. To be honest, he’s really only conceding because he’s getting impatient. He can practically smell the arousal wafting off of you in waves, and he thinks he might just combust if he doesn’t get himself buried in your quivering body as soon as possible.

But first, he’s got to make you cum. Which, is an almost laughably easy task right now.

All it takes is a little more pressure, and a little more speed. Rubbing tight circles against your swollen bud, pinching your nipple softly with his other hand.

And just like that, you’re melting.

You practically sob into his chest, clawing at his shoulders as your whole body trembles from the force of your orgasm. He can feel the warmth of it against his fingers as more slick gushes out of you, making a mess out of you both. “There you g-go.” He whispers in your ear softly, still rolling gentle circles against you to guide you through the waves of pleasure.

Only once you start whining as drawing your hips back from the sensitivity, does he relent. But, not for long.

Your world spins in an array of blurred shapes and colours when he grabs you by the waist and flips you both around. So dazed, you barely even realize what’s happened until you feel him nestling between your thighs - the bulge in his jeans pressing eagerly up against your sopping wet cunt. “You can still t-take more, right?”

The question more so swims around your ears than actually enters them, his voice sounding far away and foggy. So, it takes you a few moments to reply - too focused on the sight you’re greeted with when your eyes lift to try and focus on his face.

He’s brought his hand, shining with your release, up to his face. Then, he’s licking it clean. One finger after another, sucking up everything you gave him like it was the sweetest nectar.

“Y-Yeah.” You choke out, sinking into the sheets below you as you part your legs further. Giving him ample access to everything he could possibly want.

“Though ss-so.” He hums softly, before finally - finally - tugging his sweater off of his torso. Immediately, your eyes feast on the sight. His lean but muscular body, littered with scars that only added to the appeal. His hand reaches for the buckle of his belt, which directs your gaze down lower, and just the sight of his happy trail has your mouth watering all over again.

You watch in a daze as his fingers languidly undo his belt, clearly not in a rush - but you definitely were. Despite cumming once you’re still aching, still burning, still needing him more than you ever have before. “Hah, you’re drooling a-again.” Toby snickers as he tugs the belt from its loops and drops it to the ground. The button of his jeans gets popped next, and then comes his zipper. “Is there e-even a thought in that pretty h-head anymore?” He starts tugging his jeans down his hips. “Besides dick, I m-mean.”

Short answer? No. Your mind was wiped clean, then filled with nothing but thoughts of how badly you needed him to stuff you full. How you needed to fuck you to tears, how much you wanted to feel his cum flood your cunt. But, you’re a little too compromised to say that, so instead you just mutter;

“Nuh uh.” And it’s the cutest thing Toby’s ever heard. He was so fucking in love with you it hurt, and especially now. With this brainless little doll sprawled out on the sheets below him, your eyes bleary and your cheeks stained with tear tracks.

He kicks his jeans off in record time, and then your shirt comes next. It’s off even quicker, tossed off to some far corner of the room. You wouldn’t be needing it any time soon. Then, he just takes a moment to really look at you.

Limbs near limp and heavy, skin flushed all the way down to your stomach. Your tits heave with every gasping breath you take, nipples perked up so prettily. Down lower, he notes how tense your abdomen is, then lower where the insides of your thighs glisten with the mess that seeped out of your core.

“F-Fuck, you’re beautiful like this.” He breathes as his eyes roam you appreciatively. They drift back to your face, and he cracks a grin before letting out a soft hum of contemplation.

Then, he reaches up into his own hair, snagging the goggles that were still resting there. He tugs them off, and just moments later he’s leaning down to place them on your own head - nestling them within the sweat slick stands. “Ah, ss-so cute.” He chuckles softly, before gently nudging your chin. “My girl. A-Ain’t that right?”

You give him a shaky nod, breathing out heavy huffs of breath through your mouth as you watch his other hand reach downwards. You’re not really in the state of mind to put two and two together, but when you feel his cock slap against your thigh just moments later - it’s made pretty clear that he was tugging his boxers off. “And I’m g-gonna give my girl what she w-wants.”

His hands roam down the expanse of your body, leaving tingling trails in their wake before one comes to settle on your waist. Giving you a nice form squeeze. The other one, far too impatient now, doesn’t even tug your panties off fully. Just tugs them to the side, revealing your mesmerizing core. “Gonna f-fuck you dumber than you already a-are right now.” You feel it when he grinds his length against you, sliding against your heat, getting all nice and lubed up with your slick. It a sensation that makes your thighs quiver, back arching when the head of his cock catches on your clit. “W-Want me to stretch you out f-first? Or do you think you c-can take it?”

“I can take it.” You answer immediately, absolutely intoxicated by the feeling of having him so close. So close to giving you just what you need. At this point, it doesn’t matter to you if it hurts, you may just start crying if you’re not stuffed full in the next coming moments.

Toby had expected that answer. But actually hearing it makes his cock throb against you.

“Th-That’s what I thought.” He hums, and if you weren’t such a cock-drunk mess you might’ve slapped him for how arrogant he looked. But with your brain feeling so gooey, there was no room for annoyance in your head. Only white hot lust, bordered by the absolute adoration you held for the man above you.

The love struck daze you’re swimming in only grows more potent when you feel the head of his cock press against your entrance. Slowly, he pushes in, gentle (for now) even though his entire body is just screaming at him to plunge into you completely. Because, fuck, how is it that you’ve never felt better?

So tight, but so relaxed. Your walls eagerly sucking him in, wrapping each inch he sunk into you with velvety warmth. He could feel you pulse around him, just tensing around him more the deeper he got. It’s heavenly. To the point where by the time he’s fully seated, his breathing is just as ragged as yours.

With hazy vision Toby’s gaze catches on the sight of it - his cock completely swallowed up by your welcoming cunt, dripping slick down onto him and he hadn’t even moved yet. It’s the sound of a soft whine that has his eyes snapping up to your face.

Your brows are pinched together, mouth hung agape as you gasp for breath - fingers curled into the bedsheets beneath you, gripping on for dear life. You’re such a damn mess, and he’s barely even gotten started. It’s an exhilarating sight. “F-Feels good?” He asks softly as he nudges his hips forwards just a bit more, nestling into you as far as he could. “This what you n-needed?”

That was an understatement. He made you feel whole again. His cock sinking into you like a puzzle piece falling into place. Stretching you out just right, pressed so deep it made your thighs tremble. Barely able to form words, you let out an absolutely pitiful sound in response. A needy whine, sounding gargled as excess saliva pooled in your mouth.

Your heart is racing in your chest, possibly to a worrying degree, but you don’t care. How could you, when you feel so incredibly good? It’s the type of pleasure that makes your head spin, makes your whole body buzz as you lie beneath him.

Then, the most glorious thing happens.

Toby feels it happen before he watches you crumble apart for the second time. Your walls tense around him to a maddening degree, before your whole body is wracked with ecstasy so intense it couldn’t be put into words. Cumming for the second time, clawing at the sheets beneath you, just from the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you. He hadn’t even moved. He didn’t need to. You had been so hungry for it that the moment he fulfilled your desires, you were coming undone like a sweater with a loose string.

“H-Holy fuck.” Toby gasps out, fingernails biting into your hips as you tremble beneath him. Your pussy contracting and relaxing around him to a rhythmic beat, trying in earnest to milk him dry even though he had barely even started. And man, how in the hell is he supposed to hold back after that? “I sh-should get you like this more often.” He’s muttering, before drawing his hips back.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust. In his opinion, you’re well past warmed up. So when he’s sinking back into you again it’s in a quick, fluid motion. Burying himself back into your heat completely, then doing it again and again and again.

The pace he picks up is relentless. Fast snaps of his hips that make your whole body jolt. So pliant in his arms, you can to do nothing but take it - sliding back and forth on the sheets every time he pulls you back to meet his thrusts.

You’d swear you could feel him in your fucking lungs. You can barely breathe. Choking out moans and sobs as drool drips down your chin. It’s too much, not enough, and everything all at once. Making your already fuzzy mind feel hazier, unable to think past the feeling of his cock sliding against your convulsing walls.

In all honestly, you felt like you were floating. Your whole body feeling light and loose. The only thing that was really keeping you grounded, was the feeling of Toby’s calloused fingers pressing deep into your hips.

And in Toby’s eyes, you’ve never looked more beautiful. He’s captivated by absolutely everything about you. How your jaw hangs open in ecstasy, letting the more gorgeously wrecked sounds bounce of the walls of his bedroom. The sight of your skin rippling every time his hips smack against yours. Your sweat frizzed hair, sticking to your forehead and fanning out against the pillow beneath you.

The goggles he had placed on you were slipping further and further down with each brutal thrust, and it’s such an endearing visual. Not to mention, the way you feel.

Your pussy is heavenly, and if he had the choice, he’d never stop fucking you. So hot and tight, velvety walls clinging to him like you never wanted to let him go. It’s almost primal, the way his mind goes blissfully blank - focused on nothing but the need to pump your desperate cunt full of his cum until you’re dripping with it. Then, he’d fuck it right back into you.

“Th-This what you’ve been wanting?” He pants out, before leaning down low to press his face into the crook of your sweat-slick neck. You smell so incredibly good too, and when he parts his lips you taste even better. He’d almost be worried that maybe the drug was somehow rubbing off on him, but that wasn’t even it and he knew it. You were just addictive. You were his drug. “W-Wanted me to get you all drugged up and d-dumb, so I could fuck you like the s-slut you are?”

His words are harsh, but he breathes them out in the most infatuated tone you’ve ever heard. So mean, but so sweet all at the same time. Because he loved you like this. Barely coherent, just a heap of filthy desires, but you were all his. You trusted him to have you like this. Because you knew he’d treat you right.

He always treated you right.

When his teeth sink into your neck, you’re arching up into him immediately. It hurts, of course it does with those uncannily sharp canines of his, but it hurts in the most delicious way. Breaking through the waves of pleasure with a piercing ache, the contrast sending you reeling. Your heavy arms somehow find the will to lift, just so that you can grasp onto him - nails digging deep into the skin of his shoulders. “Th-There you are.” He murmurs once he releases your skin from his teeth. “Was wondering w-when you were gonna bring out the claws.”

His hands slip down lower, under the curve of your ass, each palm splaying against a cheek and spreading you open wider. His stamina - ever enviable - never faltered, his cock railing into you at that same merciless speed. Like he was trying to carve the shape of himself into the innermost parts of you, leaving his mark on you indefinitely. “Y-You feel so fuckin’ good.” You hear his breathless voice in your ear. “S-So good, baby. Y-You were made for me, y’know that?”

“Uh huh.” You’re gasping back to him, hiccuping out the words with a great deal of struggle. You’re far too focused on the fact that you can feel that heat building up again, just growing in intensity every time the head of his cock pressed against your gspot. You rake your nails down his back, with enough pressure to leave angry red streaks by the morning. Maybe even enough to draw blood.

That was alright, it wasn’t like he could feel it anyway. All he could feel was the pressure of you clinging onto him, with a desperation that made his thrusts falter.

“Y-You’re close again, aren’t you?” He huffs out against your neck. “Hah, f-fuck you’re amazing. I could fuck this pussy for d-days.”

You’d let him, and he knew that too. “Go on, g-give me one more.”

Like you were under a spell, the coil snaps at the sound of his voice. And this time, it hits you even harder than the others. You would swear you completely blacked out for a moment, eyes rolling back as your cunt gushed all over him. Even more so, when he just kept fucking you right through it. “J-Jesus fuck-“

It was a feeling Toby would never be able to even begin to describe. How beautifully your body responded to him, hot sticky release coating his cock and pelvis as he sunk into you over and over again. Your pussy was gripping him like a vice, and you- Well, you looked exactly like he wanted you to be.

Fucked dumb. Eyes glazed over as tears roll down your cheeks, drool smeared against your skin and bubbling in the corners of your mouth as you choke out sobs and cries. You were beautiful. So, agonizingly beautiful. “A-Ah, you’re gone aren’t you?” He reaches up and gently slaps your cheek, a feeling that just makes you let out a little mewling sound. “S-So cute.”

He curls his body over yours, pressing your thighs up until they’re nearly touching your chest, and he goes to town. Chasing his release, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing loudly off the walls. If he could, he’d hold back, keep you like this until you could both barely move - but well, he is still just only human.

So, he really can’t help it when he’s tumbling over the edge mere moments later. Once, twice, three times his hips meet yours before he’s pressing in deep - nestling right up against your cervix before he’s spilling into you.

You feel the heat of his cum flooding your cunt. How he pumps you so full that it starts gushing out as he lazily thrusts into you. Making you drip with it, just like he wanted to.

And it feels good. So good. A satisfying warmth spreading within you, marking you his from the inside out.

Even once he’s sated, he stays nestled deep within you. His arms wrap around your limp body, pulling you up and close to his chest whilst his cock slowly softens. “S-So good for me.” He murmurs breathlessly, pressing his face into your hair and taking in a shaky gasp of air. “I love you ss-so much.”

“Love you too.” You manage out, though it’s a chore to even open your mouth right now. You feel so incredibly drained, your whole body may as well have been sinking through the mattress with how heavy it felt.

It’s no surprise, when you find yourself drifting to sleep just moments later.

And when you finally wake up again, things are noticeably different. You’re sore, still shaky, and still so incredibly tired - but you’re cleaned up now.

Skin wiped pristine, hair pulled up into a haphazard bun, an oversized t-shirt hanging off of your body. You’re… Confused, to say the least. Considering that the last time you were conscious, you were still stuffed with Toby’s cock.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes, and bring a hand up to rub them, trying to ignore the headache you could feel creeping up on you.

Then, the bedroom door creaks open, and all of your questions are answered.

“H-Hey, baby. Finally awake?” Toby walks into the room with a glass of water in hand, still bare save for the baggy sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He makes his way over to you with a soft smile on his face, before he’s standing right before you. “How’re you f-feelin’?”

He reaches down, gently brushing a few pieces of hair out of your eyes, the look of love in his eyes so potent it was palpable.

“Like I got hit by a truck.” You answer back honestly, your voice still hoarse. You clear your throat a few times, before continuing. “My whole body’s sore.”

Toby lets out a little hum of acknowledgment as he trails his fingers down the side of your face. Though, you can tell he’s not the least bit sorry about it.

“Sore… Bad?” He murmurs. “Or, ss-sore, good?”

And you just can’t help but let out a little huff of laughter.

“Sore, good.”

—————————————————————————☆

hello lovely people <3

This was an absolute joy to write tbh I love it when toby’s a mean little shit

I’m gonna try and pump out a few asks while editing my big fic yaaaaay

thank you for reading!

#toby rogers #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #toby rogers smut #toby rogers x reader #ticci toby x female reader #ticci toby smut #crp #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta hcs

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acphengene · 1 month ago

Text

Angel

₊ ⁺ pairing: Heeseung x reader

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate au, fluff, they’re crackheads but in the most endearing way

₊ ⁺ word count: 3.9k

₊ ⁺ note: god i hope you guys will love these two as much as I do. No hate to my main man Jay but this might be my fave so far. Please let me know what you think!

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺ Masterlist

Heeseung had, unlike most, no apparent need to meet his soulmate sooner rather than later. He was, even as a young boy, one with ambition and aspirations and wanted to make it on his own before he was introduced to his other half.

However that didn’t mean that he hadn't stayed up all night, the day he turned thirteen to figure out what his mark was. Nothing had showed up on his skin, which meant it would most likely take him a few days to figure out what it was.

6 hours after he had gone to bed, he woke up screaming and in panic because it felt like his wrist had just broken itself spontaneously in his sleep. His brother had been there in a second, soul-band-aid in hand before slapping it on the boy's wrist.

The pain had disappeared almost instantly, and had turned into nothing more than a dull throbbing he would be able to ignore. His brother had pulled him close and told him what this meant while he dried his tears.

As the years went by Heeseung learned that his soulmate was either incredibly clumsy, or else your hobby was throwing your whole body onto concrete, and to his defence he wasn’t that far off.

You had always loved rollerblading with your sister, which meant a fall every once in a while, scraped knees and sprained wrists. All because the safety gear just didn’t look that cool. You were also a gymnast, which meant ruined ankles and falls that were head first into a mattress.

The people around you tried to get you to calm down but their words didn’t really matter. Your soulmate would love you anyways. At least that was the hope.

As the two of you grew up, you had switched rolls. When you became more calm, mature and overall focused on your studies, he became insane. That was at least what you told people when your ankles and legs were covered in those well known band-aids.

All because Heeseung didn’t mind straining his body whenever he danced. That however meant sore muscles and limbs for the both of you, since he could do exactly that for 12 hours straight with no problem. He wanted to be the best.

His ambition did pay off however, but the three months he was on I-land you were struggling. He had always been hard on his body, but this was something else. You got your revenge however, because as you got older, your periods became more and more painful, and as you were tucked under the covers, chuckling while eating chocolate, he had to try and actually work his body while in absolute agony.

He had never really understood why you didn’t just take painkillers, but what he could gather from the internet was that there were some people with periods that just ‘wanted’ to feel the pain, and Heeseung just had to smile through it.. That was the day he had decided you were weird.

When he had debuted he was thankful to find soul-band-aids in every studio of the building, dance or music, it didn't matter. Both Jimin and Vernon shared his mark, and had therefore made sure that they were always on stock.

Over the years he was lucky enough to pick their brains about just how to handle it. Especially after you had a nasty fall and busted your knee when he was 20, it had given you both problems ever since.

“Always carry around a few bandaids, if yours is anything like mine, they’ll fall down at least once a day” Vernon had said with a large smile which had caused both Heeseung and Jimin to laugh.

“And the periods” Jimin said and the three of them grimaced. “Make sure you stock up on chocolate, I have no idea why, but it kind of helps, you know it takes the edge off”

“And keep a heating pad around, it helps her as much as you. But mine also completely sucks at making sure she has painkillers on hand. I’ve had to start carrying that shit around” Vernon said as he adjusted his cap.

“Yeah, mine too,” Heeseung had told them both. He appreciated their good advice, and was thankful they even wanted to talk to him about it.

He had to admit that he was thankful you hadn’t chosen a job or way of life that caused too much pain. It was mostly a papercut here and there or very tense shoulders, that you never got taken care of, so he did that for you both.

And you already loved that about him, that he wanted to take care of you, that he actually did. Some evenings you would go to bed with tense shoulders and a back that hurt like hell only to wake up to him haven gotten a massage overnight, all to loose you up. You definitely weren’t complaining.

Heeseung knew the two of you would meet when it was time, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try and communicate with you.

You had a habit of pinching your arm over and over again, he assumed it was whenever you were nervous since it fit with the timeline of the university exams.

He was in a meeting at one point and you just wouldn’t stop, it was constant over and over again, and he almost lost his mind.

“Are you okay?” Jungwon had asked with worry, ready to shut down the meeting if need be. He had made faces of annoyance and pain for the last fifteen minutes.

“I’m fine, she just has an exam” He answered and rolled his eyes.

“Jesus fuck” Sunghoon had groaned before he, on Heeseungs other arm, had pinched him. Hard.

The oldest had made a sound of surprise and pain all at once, but the pinching had stopped, and after a few seconds a small pinch, almost more similar to a nibble, was felt on the arm that hadn’t taken your nervous abuse. It was an apologetic ‘sorry’.

He had smiled wider than he had in a long time.

You had been sitting outside the exam room when you felt it, he had been the last thing on your mind, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. What if he was actually inside an exam room right now, what if you had ruined it for him. So you had done the small pinch as a way to apologize.

It had quickly become a trademark for the two of you. Small pinches here and there to let the other know you were thinking of them.

One pinch for: hi, or in some cases stop. Two for: need you, in case any of you were nervous and needed some reassurance. You typically used that one before exams or if you were stressed out of your mind. He used it for award shows, when he wanted to win so bad the only thing he heard was his own heartbeat. And three for; I’m right here.

You didn’t want to admit it, but it was nice, knowing he was there when you needed him. It made your heart soft, and his too.

Your head was buried in a chemistry book when your phone rang out of the blue.

“Dovie” you said as a hello as you greeted your best friend.

“Hi love, so I was wondering if you had any plans for tomorrow night?” She asked and you could almost hear the biting of her lip, one of many habits your best friend had picked up after the meeting of her soulmate, the year prior.

A sigh escaped you as you did a quick headcount of your notes.

“That depends on what you want?” You asked before rubbing your eyes.

“Gods, once in a while it would be good for you to leave those books behind” she said, the grin very noticeable by the sound of her voice.

“Well the skincare of the future won't just magically appear you know?” you chuckled.

“You better invent something that removes all my wrinkles”

The two of you laughed.

“What is it?” You asked again before getting up to get yourself a fresh cup of coffee.

The sun was almost completely gone behind the skyscrapers outside your apartment windows.

“I want you to join me for a concert” she said with an excited high pitched voice.

“Your guy?” You asked, finally curious enough to forget the chemical compounds in anua’s barrier serums.

“My guy! And well, all of his guys as well”

“And it’s free?”

She sighed. “Obviously”

“Well, well, well… I finally get to meet the infamous Sim Jake then. Count me in babes, just tell me where I need to show up”

Having a best friend bound to a celebrity had its perks it seemed. She picked you up in a town car and the two of you had a glass of champagne as it took you to the venue.

You had been so glad when she had informed you she moved to Seoul. Unlike her, you had left a year before she had, to study in the city and learn from those who were the masters in the skincare industry.

It definitely had its perks, you were flooded with products, and few things were as fun as majoring in something you were actually passionate about.

The two of you joined three other girls in a VIP booth. The rest of the guys soulmates you were told. They were all different from one another, but somehow the dynamic between them matched perfectly.

You guessed that was a must when their soulmates shared everything with one another. What you didn’t want to admit was that being with them felt similar to coming home.

The concert started and it was absolutely amazing. The guys were talented and their girls cheered them on with so much enthusiasm. It was as if the air was electric and you couldn’t help but be completely mesmerized with the overall atmosphere.

On the stage your eyes lingered on the oldest. His voice was amazing and he was incredibly beautiful. And then he slipped.

As the whole stadium made a worried sound all you could do was groan, as silently as possible not to draw attention to yourself. Because where Heeseung had landed, you now felt pain.

In a swift motion your hand was in your bag pulling up a soul-band-aid and slipping it on your lower back where it was hurting.

You saw how Heeseung smiled, and then he pinched his arm, twice; need you. And you felt it. The fall was one thing, but this, this had to mean that the brother to your best friend's soulmate, was yours.

You stumbled back and automatically responded with three pinches; I’m right here. On the screen you saw how he smiled wide, and kept dancing. Unlike him, you were in complete shock, trying to catch your breath.

As the guys had a wardrobe change, their manager was over Heeseung with a bandaid within a second. But he just pushed it away.

“It’s okay, she took care of it,” he said with a proud smile. You had been so fast, and the pain had been managed by your quick thinking within a second. Almost as if you knew he needed you right then and there.

However his ribs were hurting now, as if you were currently running a marathon and couldn’t quite catch your breath. He pinched his arm three times, and the pain subsided.

“You okay?” Niki said as they were stripped from their clothes.

“Yeah, she was quick,” he said with a smile.

“Good, I’m glad she’s taking care of you” the youngest gave him a loving shove and the two laughed.

Heeseung looked at his pinky. “Is she here?”

Niki laughed. “You think I would be if she was?” He laughed as he ruffled his hair before plugging back his in-ears.

“Good point” Heeseung said as he mirrored him. “If mine was here I wouldn’t be here either”

The girls grabbed you by the arm and dragged you backstage after the concert. You had never been more nervous in your life.

You tried your best to not pinch your arm, he would be alarmed at that, you thought.

“Little dove” said a dark haired beauty that you assumed to be Jake.

He came straight for your best friend, pulled her close and gave her a kiss. It was longer than you had expected, and for a second it felt like you were intruding.

G was quickly pulled close to Jay as he removed the hair from her neck before he kissed her there.

And before you could notice anyone else, Jake had pulled you into a bear hug. “It’s so fucking good to finally meet you!”

You were literally up in the air, while your friend was just laughing beside you.

“Put the girl down you big idiot” Sunghoon had said before introducing himself, and the rest quickly followed suit.

It was stupid but you couldn’t help but look around for him, and for some reason Jake noticed that. He narrowed his eyes. “Hee will be here in a second, they just need to take a look at him after his fall”

You nodded, as you tried to look interested in anything but the man who was currently receding just down the hall from you all.

They had all dragged you to a few couches, and the boys took turns disappearing and returning in their civil clothes.

Because Heeseung wasn’t there, your nervous tic took over all by itself. Dovie laid a hand on yours to get you to stop your fidgeting, and just in time.

“She’s nervous again” Heeseung said as he entered the room.

“What, now?” Sunoo said surprised.

“Yeah, I have no idea what’s going on with her today that got her so on edge. God I hate there's absolutely nothing I can do about it” He threw himself down in a chair across from you, and you were pretty sure you suddenly forgot the ability to breathe.

He took a sip from a can, and as his eyes found yours, he completely froze.

Shit. Fuck. What the fuck.

That was the thoughts that went through his head, because before him was the most beautiful angel he had ever seen.

And he of course, for the life of him couldn’t make a proper introduction.

He swallowed his drink and waved while an awkward hi somehow escaped him. You smiled and god he could’ve died right there. Maybe he was already dead, and maybe this was heaven.

The conversation that they were all having picked up again when he didn’t follow up. He started chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously, but his eyes never left you. He was completely mesmerized.

You distracted him so much that he accidentally bit his cheek a little to hard, and he flinched from the pain. But so did you.

Why the fuck would you do that? What was going on?

He leaned a little closer, as he observed you, narrowing his eyes on that left arm of yours, still slightly red. Maybe from pinching yourself over and over again?

So how do we test this? He thought to himself.

Two pinches to his arm. And as per routine, without even thinking about, without even thinking about where you were, without even thinking about who was sitting in front of you; you pinched yourself thrice.

And when you realized your eyes shot up to meet his. Heeseung just rose from his seat with a grin.

“Oh you’re coming with me” he said. The room around you fell silent. Everyone staring at the oldest, wondering what exactly he was going on about, because his sentence had made no sense in the conversation they were all having.

“I-“ was all that you mustered to get out before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you from the large room.

You had no idea where he was taking you, and you felt your phone buzz in your bag. It was propably Dovie, asking what the hell was going on.

Heeseung dragged you along all while saying goodbye to the staff he met on his way, and before you knew it he was pushing you into a car and he followed suit.

As it started driving the two of you had almost automatically turned your bodies towards one another, as if you were two magnets desperate to finally connect.

“So…” he said with a raised eyebrow all while the city was passing by outside. The streets still flooded with all the fans that had been screaming at him, at them only 30 minutes earlier.

“I’m pretty sure kidnapping is illegal” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest.

He laughed. “You’re stubborn aren’t you?” He didn’t mind that though, it would make this little life of yours so much more entertaining if you were.

“So what if I am?” You asked with a teasing voice, there was this twinkle in your eyes that made his knees weak, and he had never been more thankful that he was actually sitting down.

The conversation between you both most likely sounded a lot more like lovers bickering than two soulmates that had just found one another. But for some reason he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Where we going?” You asked after a few minutes of silence, and your eyes instantly found his as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Back to your place” he stated as he look out at the tall buildings surrounding the two of you.

“My place?” You asked shocked. “How the hell do you know where I live?”

Heeseung just laughed. “Oh calm down now, I’m no stalker, my sweet manager here was the one who picked you up earlier. I just decided it would be best to follow you home” he shrugged. “You know, making sure you got there safe”

You were pretty sure your heart skipped a beat at that. Instead of entertaining the conversation while a stranger was in the car with you, you instead pulled your phone from your bag.

Dovie: you two owe me 100.000 won

You: why?

Dovie: Me and Jake made a bet and I lost, so you fools better pay up.

You smiled, and Heeseung couldn’t help but do the same.

“Why are you smiling?” He asked, a little scared that you wouldn’t humor him.

“Apparently our besties made a bet, and I’m guessing it had to do with us” you said as you waved your phone before stuffing it back in your bag.

He ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “That explains Jake’s mood all day at least”

You raised a brow at him, suddenly curious on just what had been going on before they went on stage “What?”

“He’s just been… teasing me all day you know, constantly asking how I was feeling, if I was nervous. He was just way kinder and way wierder than usual, so I figured he was up to something. Gotta say I did not expect this”

He was so beautiful when he smiled, his laugh sounded like the sweetest music, which honestly couldn’t come as a surprise when he had a voice like an angel.

You hummed in response. To afraid that your voice would crack, that it would reveal the need for him, that you felt in your very bones.

The car finally came to a halt and he quickly opened the door. He was thankful for the fresh and cold air, he felt like he was burning up.

He held the door open for you and as soon as you stepped out the rain started. He watched as you lifted your head towards the sky, savoring the cool drops of water on your skin.

“So… here we are” he said, drawing your attention back to him.

“We are,” you said as you turned towards him. He was too aware of the rain droplets ran down your skin.

“A…” he sighed. “Are we sure?”

“We are, I don’t have a soul-band-aid on my ass for nothing” you laughed and it was so contagious he joined you right away.

“Yeah, thanks for that one” he said as he took a step closer to you. He wanted you in his arms, but he didn’t want to pressure you.

“You are my soulmate, Heeseung” you said. He felt the goosebumps break out on his entire body. He didn’t know how much he had longed for you to say those words.

“I know I am, but what are you?” He asked and he saw the mischeif spark in your eye.

“I’m yours” you say, and smiled wider than you think you’ve ever had.

“Fuck yeah you are” he say and took two steps towards you.

Heeseung flung his arms around you and pulled you to him. “God angel, it took you long enough” he had lifted you off the ground, and your legs had instinctively wrapped around his waist.

You rolled your eyes. “I could say the same about you” you didn’t care about the rain, about the possibility of catching a cold. You didn’t even care that you were out in public, wrapped in the arms of one of the Koreas it-boys. No all you cared about was that he seemed to be just as excited for having found you, as you were of finding him.

His eyes glimmered in the streetlights and your hands rested on the nape of his neck. He sucked in a breath.

“Yeah? You better punish me for it” he squeezed your thigh and you pulled at his hair teasingly. He licked his lips in response.

“Careful now” he said as he carried you into the elevator of your building, finally getting you out of the cold. “Don’t wanna start something you can’t finish”

“What makes you so sure I won’t be able to see it through?” You asked as you nudged your nose against his.

He closed his eyes and savored the skin to skin contact.

“Fuck it” he said, and closed the gap between the two of you as he crashed his lips onto yours.

You let out a surprised yelp, but returned it. Pulling him even closer to you.

“No way in hell I’m letting you out of my sight, angel. You’re staying with me”

You chuckled. “I have an exam soon, you know”

He shrugged and hid his head in the crook of your neck. “You can use me to distract you whenever need be, it’ll be a big improvement from all that god damn pinching”

His lips were on your neck, kissing, licking, nibbling on your skin. And he couldn’t help himself so he bit down slightly, and the two of you groaned together as you felt a pain that when inflicted by him, much more pleasure than anything else.

Finally you heard the ding of the elevator doors, and you slipped out of his grasp. He whined at the lack of contact.

“Come on now, we got shit to do” you said as you pulled him along.

“Oh yeah? What?" He asked teasingly. He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as he kissed your forehead.

“You’re the one who offered to be my distraction”

“Always Angel”

Taglist: @why4anne @juicygirl4life @azzy02 @bluxjun @why-did-i-just-do-this @elairah @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @garrdenwonie @whateveridontcaresheesh @stormy1408 @tunafishyfishylike @sol3chu @spicxbnny @blvengene

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thebarneschronicles · 1 month ago

Text

Closer To Home V

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 14.6k

Bucky Barnes has always been a man of few words, but his silence is starting to sound like goodbye. You’ve felt the shift—his touch still lingers, his kisses still steal your breath, but something is missing. Something unspoken. Nights spent tangled in his sheets aren’t enough to silence the question that haunts you: Is he staying because he wants to, or because he doesn’t know how to leave?

You love him. You’ve loved him since the beginning. You’ve given him every piece of yourself, waiting for the moment he finally stops holding back. But love alone has never been enough to keep him. And if you ask for more—if you finally demand an answer—will he give you his heart, or will he give you an exit wound?

Trigger Warnings: emotional distress, angst, and relationship struggles, jealousy, and abandonment issues, emotional withdrawal, implied PTSD and survivor’s guilt, explicit sexual content (light dominance, possessiveness, overstimulation, and loss of control), moments of mental and emotional turmoil.

Closer To Home Masterlist

Author’s Note: WELL, that only took fucking forever, huh?! I was stuck with this one cause I didn't wanna put my babies through this, so I'm warning you in advance: it's a sad one. There is a happy ending and there will be more to come tho, cause they are my faves and I already wrote most of the next part. Let me know what you think! B xx

The absence of warmth against your side was what pulled you from sleep. It wasn’t a noise, not the creak of the floorboards or the shuffle of movement—just the missing weight of his vibranium arm draped over your waist. Your body instinctively sought his, reaching out into the space where he should be, but all you found was the lingering heat he left behind.

Blinking groggily, you turned your head, the edges of sleep still clinging to your vision. Bucky stood in the middle of the bedroom, bathed in the dim glow of the city lights seeping through the curtains. His broad back was to you, muscles shifting as he pressed his hands to his hips, scanning the room like he was searching for something.

He hadn’t noticed you were awake.

Burrowed in the covers, you let yourself watch, a slow, lazy smile tugging at your lips as you took in the sight of him—naked and utterly unbothered. The smooth expanse of his back, the flex of his arms, the curve of his ass—God, the man was a work of art. And he moved so quietly, his steps barely making a sound as he finally zeroed in on what he was looking for: his clothes, strewn carelessly across the floor from the night before.

You held back a disappointed sigh when he picked up his boxers, sliding them on with quick efficiency, hiding away what you had been thoroughly enjoying. The words left your mouth before you could stop them, still thick with sleep.

“Nooo…” you whined, the sound stretching out lazily as you buried your smile into the pillow.

Bucky startled, turning sharply toward you, his brows lifted in surprise.

You grinned, eyes half-lidded, voice teasingly slow. “I was enjoying the view.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. “Jesus, you’re such a perv.”

“And you’re depriving me of my morning entertainment,” you pouted dramatically, propping yourself up. “Can’t a girl ogle you in peace?”

Bucky scoffed, slipping into his sweatpants as you openly mourned the loss of his skin. He closed the distance, stopping right in front of you, his warm hands finding your bare shoulders, thumbs brushing over your collarbone as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze.

“There’s nothing to ogle,” he muttered, feigning modesty.

“Oh, honey,” you sighed, reaching up to cradle his face, fingers tracing along his stubbled jaw. “There’s so much to ogle. And I’m not just talking about your ass…”

Bucky groaned, shaking his head, but the way his lips twitched betrayed him. You could feel the heat blooming across his cheeks, and it made you grin. He was adorable when he got flustered, like he still wasn’t used to the way you looked at him.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but his hands betrayed him, sliding down your back in slow, lazy strokes. His palms ghosted over your waist, your hips, before settling at the curve of your ass, squeezing just enough to make you hum in contentment.

“And yet, you keep groping me.” You arched a brow, biting your lip to contain your grin.

“I’m a weak man,” he admitted, pressing his forehead to yours. “You make it too easy.”

You melted into him, arms winding around his neck, your bodies pressed close in the stillness of the night. But there was something different about the way he held you. It was still warm, still affectionate—but it wasn’t as effortless as before.

Bucky was pulling away.

Not in an obvious way. Not in a way most people would notice. But you had. You felt it in the hesitation of his touch, the way his fingers brushed over your skin like they were memorizing instead of claiming. The way he would hold you like this, then seem to remember something—something that made his grip loosen instead of tighten.

You told him you loved him, and he hadn’t said it back. Not in those words.

He’d said he cared. He’d said he felt the same. But the words never passed his lips, and the longer they lingered unspoken, the heavier they became, like stones sinking between you.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were your steady breaths and the faint rustling of fabric as he absently played with the ends of your hair. His fingers traced slow, idle patterns—distracted. Elsewhere.

“Were you sneaking out?” you murmured.

His exhale was slow, measured. “No.”

You hesitated, tilting your head slightly to catch his gaze. “Am I allowed to ask where you were going, then?”

Bucky hummed against your skin, lips skimming along the side of your neck in an unhurried, open-mouthed kiss. It was a distraction—one that might have worked if you weren’t already searching for the cracks forming between you. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine, making your fingers tighten in his hair, but it didn’t ease the hollow ache settling in your chest.

“Just out for a call,” he said, voice low and warm.

You huffed softly, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. “To who?”

“Sam.” Another kiss. Another distraction. “He wants to talk about a trip to D.C.”

Your body stiffened. Just like that, the haze of warmth and sleepiness vanished, replaced by something sharper. Bucky must’ve felt it, because he pulled back, brow lifting slightly as his hands skimmed over your sides in a soothing motion.

“D.C.?” you echoed, your voice sharper now.

His mouth twitched, like he was trying not to smile. “Relax. It’s not for a mission. I don’t know any details yet. Something to do with Sharon.”

Sharon.

You forced your face into something neutral, but the name sliced through you like a blade, leaving something raw in its wake. Sharon Carter.

You didn’t like her. Hell, you didn’t like the idea of Bucky flying off to see her, but you knew better than to voice it.

Saying it out loud would only make you sound… ridiculous. Petty. Jealous. Desperate. And while all of that was true, it wasn’t something you were ready to confront.

So, instead, you exhaled slowly, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw, willing yourself to let it go. “Go on, then.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you back into his warmth. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You forced a small smile, curling deeper into the covers. “I’ll be waiting.”

But even as you said it, you knew the unease twisting in your chest wasn’t going anywhere.

Sleep eluded you. No matter how many times you shifted, flipped the pillow, or tried to will your mind into silence, it didn’t work. So you gave up.

With a sigh, you pushed back the covers and padded out of the bedroom, your body heavy with exhaustion but your thoughts too restless to let you sink back into unconsciousness. The apartment was quiet, the air still carrying the remnants of Bucky’s warmth.

A note sat on the kitchen counter, the edges curling slightly as if time had already started to wear it down. His handwriting, neat but with the occasional jagged letter, spelled out: Went to grab breakfast. Be back soon.

You stared at it, the words lodging themselves somewhere deep in your chest. Too short. Too impersonal. Something about them felt off, but you shook your head and set the note aside, forcing yourself not to spiral.

This was ridiculous. Everything was fine. Bucky was fine. He wanted confirmation of your feelings, and you had always given him space to process his. Him not saying it back didn’t mean anything—or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. But lately, you weren’t sure if you believed it.

Without him here, you opted for a long shower, letting the hot water chase away the remnants of a sleepless night. By the time you emerged, towel wrapped around you and steam curling in the air, the front door swung open.

Bucky walked in, looking so unfairly good that you almost forgot how to breathe. His hair, slightly longer now, curled at the edges, damp from the morning mist. His blue eyes seemed even brighter against the navy Henley he wore. A pink bakery bag dangled from his vibranium fingers, a Starbucks tray balanced in his other hand, and his phone was pressed to his ear.

“When do you think it’ll happen?” His voice was low, distracted. He kicked the door shut behind him without a second thought, already making his way toward the kitchen where you stood, sipping on a glass of water.

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but the pause stretched long, filled with faint static. You leaned against the counter, watching him as he nodded along to whatever was being said.

“I can make it happen,” he finally murmured. “I’ll catch a flight out Wednesday so I can be there after she signs everything.”

Something inside you curled in protest. You turned away, setting your glass in the sink with deliberate care, masking the frown tugging at your lips. You stared out the window, watching the slow trickle of people making their way down the street.

Bucky’s presence warmed your back before you even heard him move. His lips brushed your shoulder first, then a firm squeeze at your waist—his silent way of saying 'hello'. But there was something absent in the gesture, something automatic.

“Hold on a minute,” he said into the phone, pulling it away just far enough to duck down and steal a kiss from your lips. You could taste the chill of the morning on him, the scent of his aftershave lingering. “Got you a bacon, egg, and cheese—and an Americano.”

Your chest squeezed at the ease of it all, because it somehow felt fake. Like he was holding onto a script, playing a part. Ever since that night you had finally cracked, finally told him you loved him, something had shifted. Even the world seemed to be giving you a reprieve—missions were slower, danger a little more distant. Sam had gone home for a bit, and Bucky had been content to let you drag him furniture shopping, helping turn his space into something lived-in.

And yet, you noticed. As much as he seemed to fall into a rhythm, his affections never wavering, he’d become significantly more introspective. You had caught him more times than you’d like to admit staring at you, but not with the soft affection you were used to. It was something else—something heavy. Impersonal. Like he was calculating some kind of risk before he noticed you had seen him and schooled his features back into something resembling the Bucky from before.

Before, you had been too honest. Before, you had let your heart speak before your head could stop it. Before, you had let yourself believe that love—spoken aloud, undeniable—would be enough to keep him steady, to keep him here. But now, you weren’t so sure.

Because ever since that night, something had shifted. He held you close, but there was a hesitation, a quiet space between his words where something unnamed lived. And when he looked at you, sometimes—just for a second—it was as if he was trying to memorize you, as if he was preparing for something neither of you had spoken into existence. Like he was calculating a risk.

Which is why you hated whatever was taking him to Washington. Because deep in your bones, you felt it creeping in—the moment everything changed. The moment he pulled too far away to reach. And you weren’t ready to let him go.

Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. “Yeah, she’s here. No, she hasn’t had her coffee yet.” He chuckled at whatever was said on the other end, then shot you a teasing glance that made your heart squeeze. “If you wanna risk it…”

You narrowed your eyes as he extended the phone toward you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “He wants to talk to you.”

You let out a long-suffering sigh but took the phone anyway, pressing it to your ear. “Morning, Sam.”

“Mrs. Barnes.” His voice dripped with amusement, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face.

Your nose scrunched and you turned away from Bucky, the weight of his gaze overwhelming. “Don’t start.”

“We both know it’s inevitable. Anyway, listen, Bucky’s flying out here on Wednesday, and I was thinking—why don’t you come with him? Make it a little trip.”

You tugged at a loose thread on your towel, staring into the white of the fabric until your eyes crossed. You weren’t quite sure this was a good idea. “To D.C.?”

“Yeah. I figure if I have to suffer through Barnes brooding about being away from you for more than forty-eight hours, might as well nip it in the bud before he starts sighing dramatically into the phone like a lovesick teenager.”

A snort of laughter escaped you before you could stop it, disbelief making itself known. “I doubt that’d happen.”

“Oh, it’d happen.”

You bit your lip, your gaze flickering to Bucky, who was busy unpacking the food with a neutral expression you knew was entirely fake. He was listening. He was always listening.

“I mean, I could… I’m just not sure if Bucky would agree,” you offered.

“Agree to what?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard every single word.

“Sam wants me to come with you to D.C. Something about you brooding too much over being away from me,” you smiled, but it didn’t hold as you watched him nod.

On the other side of the line, Sam’s voice caught your attention. “Also, if you do decide to come, I would offer my place, but Sharon’s staying with me for a bit and I’ve only got the one guest bedroom.”

Your brows lifted. “Sharon’s staying with you? As in Sharon Carter?”

“Yeah, just until she can figure out her move back to the U.S. She’s getting her pardon, but things are still a bit messy for her.”

“Things are always messy for her,” you muttered, unable to resist the dig. You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s brow lifted at that, but he stayed silent.

Sam let out a long-suffering sigh. “Look, don’t make it weird. I’m just trying to be a good friend here.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Anyway,” Sam quickly continued before you could push any further, “Come with him. Just book a hotel, and I’ll send you a list of good areas to stay in. Easy.”

You hummed, mulling it over. “I’ll have a chat with him.”

“Pfft, don’t chat. It’s decided, you’re coming.”

“Sam—”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. See you Wednesday, Mrs. Barnes.”

You sighed, defeated, as you hung up and tossed the phone onto the counter.

Bucky was already watching you, arms crossed. “So you’re coming?”

“Only if you want me to,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze.

“I want you to.”

You weren’t so sure you believed him. –

By the time you landed, Sam was waiting in the parking lot of the airport, arms crossed, that signature smirk already in place. He was dressed casually—dark jeans, a fitted T-shirt, and a lightweight jacket—but his eyes gleamed with mischief as they landed on the two of you.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Sam drawled, pushing off the pillar and strolling toward you. “My favorite couple. How was the flight, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes?”

You groaned as Bucky immediately stiffened beside you, his grip tightening around the handle of your suitcase. His reaction was barely noticeable—maybe no one else would have caught it—but you did. Lately, you caught everything.

“Really? We’re starting this now?” you sighed, forcing a lightness into your voice you didn’t quite feel.

Sam shrugged, grinning. “What? I’m just sayin’, y’all are real cozy these days. Ain’t it about time you made an honest man out of him?”

Bucky let out a low grumble but didn’t bother correcting him. He just exhaled, set his jaw, and rolled your suitcase forward without another word, completely ignoring the knowing look Sam shot him.

Something in your stomach twisted. The old Bucky—the one before you’d told him you loved him, before this quiet distance settled between you—would have had a snarky comeback, maybe thrown an arm around you just to make Sam roll his eyes. But now? He just let the comment hang in the air, unchallenged, unacknowledged. Like it didn’t matter.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, past the doubt creeping into the spaces he was leaving behind.

“You’re hilarious, Wilson,” you deadpanned. “Truly, a comedic genius.”

Sam placed a hand over his heart. “I do what I can.”

The three of you made your way out of the airport, Sam and Bucky falling into their usual rhythm—bantering, teasing, Bucky pretending to be exasperated when you could tell he secretly enjoyed it. Except, this time, there was something off. His laughter didn’t reach his eyes the way it used to. His voice was lighter, but not in the effortless way you loved—it was careful. Controlled. Like he was playing a part.

You slid into the backseat of Sam’s truck, the leather cool beneath your fingertips. You weren’t even sure when Bucky had last looked at you, really looked at you.

“So, what do you think?” Sam glanced at you through the rearview mirror, his smirk still firmly in place. “Dinner at mine?”

Bucky exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the seat, sounding almost relieved at the change of subject. “Sounds good to me. Doll?”

You nodded, turning your gaze to the window as the streets passed you by.

There was no escaping it. Whatever this was—whatever had shifted between you and Bucky—it was following you.

–

You had tried to keep yourself together. You really had. But by the time Sam dropped you both off at the hotel, the weight in your chest had solidified into something unbearable—cold, heavy, and unrelenting. No amount of forced smiles or easy conversation could shake it.

After a shower to wash the grime from the plane ride, you slipped into bed, exhaustion clinging to you in a way that had nothing to do with the flight. You had hours before dinner at Sam’s—hours you could be spending with Bucky. Exploring the city, tangled up together in bed, finally stealing a moment just for the two of you. No missions. No distractions.

The thought of pulling him down beside you, of pressing your lips to his until he remembered what this was supposed to feel like, nearly broke you. Maybe if you kissed him hard enough, if you touched him the way you used to, you could undo whatever this was. Maybe you could take it back. Tell him you’d been wrong. That there was no love, only lust. That it had never been deeper than that. That way, he could stop retreating into himself, stop looking at you like he was waiting for something to break.

But you couldn’t lie to him. And worse—you couldn’t lie to yourself.

So instead, you curled onto your side, clinging to a pillow as if it could hold you together. The sting behind your eyes was relentless, tears slipping free despite how hard you tried to keep them in. You pressed your face into the pillow, muffling the shaky breath that escaped.

The sound of the bathroom door opening barely registered.

“Tired?” Bucky’s voice was rough, a little hoarse from travel, but it still sent something deep inside you twisting painfully.

“Yeah,” you murmured, keeping your back to him. Normally, you would have turned around, let your eyes roam over the sight of him fresh from the shower, hair damp, towel slung low on his hips. But tonight, you stayed still. Because if he saw your face, he’d see your red-rimmed eyes, the tear tracks on your cheek, the truth written all over you.

A beat of silence. Then—

“Is everything okay?”

It was the hesitation in his voice that gutted you the most. The way he asked like he already knew the answer but didn’t want to hear it.

“Sure,” you whispered, nodding stiffly, gripping the covers tighter and pulling them up to your chin. “Just tired from the plane.”

You felt him linger, standing just behind you, close enough that you could hear his steady breathing. But he didn’t push. He didn’t press. He just stood there, silent, before the mattress dipped as he sat on the edge of the bed.

And it hit you all over again—he was right there, but somehow, it still felt like you were miles apart.

–

You should’ve known walking into this was a mistake. You should’ve stayed at the hotel, let whatever happen, happen. Because this? This was torture.

You sat at the table, Bucky to your left, Sam to your right, and Sharon directly in front of you—the perfect storm. You barely touched your food, your grip tightening around your wine glass as they laughed and reminisced, trading stories like they were fond memories instead of fragments of lives torn apart. Steve Rogers. A dingy old car. A kiss. Then Madripoor—how Sharon had ‘saved their ass.’

And Bucky was smiling.

Not the small, weary smiles he’d been giving you lately. This was different—effortless, unguarded. All week, he’d been wound tight, withdrawing, keeping you at a distance. But now, here, with her, he looked… at ease. Like she was giving him something you couldn’t—an understanding, a comfort in the language of battle that felt like home to him, a refuge from the weight of whatever expectations he thought you carried.

You gripped your wine glass tighter, the delicate stem pressing into your palm as you took another sip, focusing on the sharp burn of the alcohol rather than the sound of Sharon’s laugh. It was light, effortless—too damn familiar as she reached out, nudging Bucky’s vibranium arm like she had every right to.

Your jaw locked, a pulse of irritation tightening in your chest as your already crossed legs stiffened further. You were vibrating with anger. It wasn’t even his skin, and still, the sight made something hot and ugly coil in your stomach.

You wanted to slap her hand away. Wanted to tell her to back off. Wanted Bucky to move—just an inch, just enough to show that he felt the weight of her touch the way you did - unpleasantly, unwelcome.

But he didn’t.

“You were such a terrible undercover,” she teased, eyes bright with amusement. “You couldn’t even play a convincing criminal.”

Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I got us in, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, and almost got us killed,” she shot back. “I swear, if I hadn’t stepped in—”

“Oh, please,” Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “Here we go again. Sharon, you act like you were some hero. We handled it.”

“Handled it?” She snorted. “If it wasn’t for me, you two would still be running from bounty hunters in the gutters of Madripoor.”

Bucky smirked. “She’s got a point.”

Your chest tightened.

Bucky’s distance had already been gnawing at you, a slow, relentless ache, and now—watching the easy way he spoke with her, the warmth in his voice—it was too much. Every low chuckle, every lingering glance, every casual brush of Sharon’s fingers against his arm sent another splinter through you.

He’d made no effort to show you were here together since you arrived. No arm around your waist, no glance in your direction, no subtle acknowledgment that you weren’t just someone in the room—you were his. Instead, you felt like an afterthought. Like a shadow. Like a lost puppy trailing behind him, desperate for attention that he wasn’t offering.

It fueled something ugly inside you, something you hated but couldn’t suppress. You weren’t the jealous type. You weren’t petty or insecure. But tonight, with the weight of everything unsaid pressing into your ribs, your anger and resentment tangled together, twisting into something sharp and unrelenting.

So you stayed quiet. You sipped your wine, kept your eyes down, forced yourself to pretend this wasn’t getting to you. Forced yourself to swallow the lump of frustration in your throat and ignore the irrational sting in your chest.

But the universe had other plans.

“How’s life been treating ya?” Sharon’s voice cut through the air, her lips curling around your name like it was something bitter. “Heard you got promoted to assisting these two. You’ve come a long way since your S.H.I.E.L.D. days.”

Your smile was thin, lifeless. “It’s been fun. I can’t complain. They’re good partners, even though they get on my nerves.”

“I always thought you’d end up in the field eventually. Why haven’t you?”

There was something pointed in her tone, a sharp edge hidden beneath the surface, a provocation instead of a genuine question. You set your glass down with deliberate care, leaning back in your chair, arms folding over your chest. “I prefer research. It’s where I thrive. I can do more for them that way.”

“Guess not all of us are made for the action, right, Buck?”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

Instead, you pushed your glass toward Sam with a curt nod. “Top me up?”

Sam, to his credit, didn’t hesitate. He poured more wine without a word, his eyes flicking between you and Bucky like he could feel the shift in the air. You took a slow sip, letting the burn settle in your throat, trying to drown the simmering anger clawing its way to the surface. But it wasn’t enough.

The irritation was already there, curling under your skin, waiting—begging—to spill over.

“How about you, Sharon?” you asked suddenly, slicing clean through whatever bullshit story she’d been spinning. Your gaze flicked down, zeroing in on her hand resting so casually against Bucky’s wrist.

You hadn’t touched him in hours.

The realization hit like a gut punch, leaving something raw and exposed in its wake.

Sharon blinked, caught off guard for a split second before recovering with a practiced ease. “It’s been alright. I got my pardon, so I’m sticking around for a while. Trying to reconnect with family, settle things.”

“Only family?” You tilted your head, your voice deceptively sweet. Dangerous. “No boyfriends, right?”

Sharon hesitated. It was brief, barely noticeable—but you caught it.

“N—”

“Oh, that’s right.” Your smile was slow, deliberate, razor-sharp. “Last time you had someone, it was your aunt’s sloppy seconds.”

The second the words left your mouth, the air changed. The words landed like a gunshot. The silence that followed was suffocating and the tension went from an undercurrent to a crackling, undeniable force, stretching taut between all of you.

Bucky stiffened beside you. Sam let out a low whistle, dragging a hand down his face. And Sharon? For the first time all night, she had nothing to say.

Sam muttered a quiet “Damn” under his breath, glancing between the two of you like he was watching a bomb tick down.

You barely registered any of it. The only thing you saw was Bucky reaching for you—his hand shifting under the table, hovering just above your thigh, hesitating, then pulling back, his fingers curling into a fist.

The sting of it reverberated through your whole body.

Sharon, to her credit, recovered quickly. She let out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head as she leaned back in her chair. “Didn’t realize we were getting into cheap shots tonight. I would’ve brought popcorn.”

You tilted your head, giving her an easy, sharp smile. “I figured you’d be used to it by now. Considering all that time in Madripoor.”

Her eyes flickered, just for a second, before she smirked. “Well, someone had to get their hands dirty while you sat behind a screen.”

“Right. And exactly how dirty did you get?”

Sam exhaled, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Alright, we are dangerously close to turning this into a bar fight.”

Sharon waved a hand, looking far too pleased with herself. “Oh, relax, Wilson. Just catching up with an old colleague.”

You picked up your wine glass, turning to Sam instead. “You’re right, Sam. This has been fun, but I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”

Bucky’s head turned toward you, brows furrowed. “Doll—”

Downing the last of your wine, you pushed your chair back before he could finish, grabbing your purse. “I’ll head back to the hotel. You guys enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Before he could stop you—before he could reach out and make you stay—you walked away, because if you stayed one more second, you weren’t sure you’d be able to breathe.

–

You were out the door before you could second-guess yourself. Coat and purse clutched in one hand, phone gripped tight in the other, you tapped your foot furiously against the pavement, buzzing with too much—anger, jealousy, frustration, and that awful, gnawing ache in your chest. The street was quiet, the air crisp, but all you could hear was the rush of your pulse as you stared down the road, willing headlights to appear.

The door creaked open behind you. Voices drifted through the night, but only one set of footsteps—or rather, the absence of them—told you exactly who was coming after you.

Bucky.

His presence was unmistakable, looming at your side even as you refused to look at him. The warmth radiating from him was just close enough to feel, but not close enough to touch.

“You should go back inside,” you said, your voice not nearly as steady as you wanted. You reached up quickly, swiping at the stray tear that betrayed you, the other hand gripping your phone like a lifeline.

“We’re leaving,” he said, his voice measured, calm. Too calm.

“No,” you corrected, jaw tight. “I’m leaving. You can stay.”

He let out a slow exhale, the kind that meant he was reigning himself in. “Come on, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” You finally turned, eyes burning into him.

“This,” he said, running a hand through his hair, frustration creeping in. “Storming out, making a scene. You didn’t have to go after Sharon like that.”

You barked out a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I hurt your girlfriend’s feelings. Not like she didn’t diminish my work right in front of you and you said shit.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” His jaw ticked, his voice sharp, but controlled. “And you’re being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable?” Your head snapped toward him, eyes flashing. “Right, of course. Because I’m the problem. Not the way you’ve been acting. Not the way you let her—” You stopped yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat, shaking your head. “Forget it.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Let her what?”

You scoffed, looking away. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t.” His voice was steel now, an edge that would’ve made anyone else back down. But not you. Not when you were already burning.

You turned back to him, fire in your eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.”

For a moment, you were locked in a silent battle that felt heavier than any argument. The weight of his stare pressed into you.

The sound of an approaching car broke the moment, and relief flooded through you so fast it made your legs weak. Without another word, you turned away, your feet dragging as you made your way toward the curb, toward escape.

Then, behind you, the front door creaked open again.

“Buck, you forgot your—”

Sam’s voice cut through the night, but you barely registered it. You didn’t stop, didn’t look back.

The second the car rolled to a stop, you yanked the door open, slid inside, and slammed it shut.

You didn’t wait for Bucky.

You didn’t give yourself the chance to.

–

Your body felt impossibly heavy, weighed down by grief, regret, and something even darker that you didn’t dare name. You sank into the chair by the window, your limbs stiff with exhaustion, your chest hollow with the ache of knowing you might’ve just lost him.

The city stretched before you, lights flickering against the glass, a world moving forward while yours stood painfully still. The fancy bedspread, the romantic bathtub, the room with a view—none of it mattered now. It was all just a cruel backdrop to a moment that felt like the beginning of the end.

You would’ve told yourself I told you so if it didn’t feel so vicious, so mercilessly cutting. But you had known. Of course you had known. It was almost laughable, the way your own heart had resisted, the way your mind had screamed at you to be careful when he first asked for this.

He had wanted it. Begged for it.

Something real, something solid. Something to hold onto when the nightmares came, when the weight of his past became too much. And like a fool, you had given it to him, convinced—desperate—that it would be enough to keep him here. To make him stay.

It hadn’t been.

And worst of all, you couldn’t even be angry at him for it.

He had warned you. So many times.

He was scared—of your devotion, of your belief in him, of the way you saw a man worthy of love when all he saw was a ghost of who he used to be. He was scared of your forgiveness, of your patience, of your kindness. Scared that one day, you would wake up and realize he wasn’t enough.

He had told you. God, he had told you. And you hadn’t listened. Because you were naive enough to believe that love—your love—would be enough.

And now, here you were. The irony of it all nearly made you laugh. The first time you ever truly fought felt like it would also be your last. You had feared this moment from the beginning.

You pressed the heels of your palms against your tired eyes, trying to stop the spiral before it completely consumed you. Stupid. Stubborn. Naive. You never should’ve let him convince you. Never should’ve let yourself believe he wouldn’t run the second things got too real.

The soft click of the hotel door unlocking shattered your thoughts, sending your pulse hammering against your ribs.

You held your breath.

You didn’t turn around. Couldn’t. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed on the city outside, watching the world move on like your heart wasn’t currently breaking into a million sharp pieces. The lights of D.C. flickered and blurred through the film of tears gathering in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet. Not in front of him.

Bucky’s footsteps were slow, measured, like he was testing the waters. Like he knew the wrong move would shatter whatever fragile thing was still holding you both together.

For a long, painful moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—his voice rang out, rough and low. “You left.”

It wasn’t accusatory. Wasn’t even angry. Just... dejected.

Your fingers curled against the fabric of your pants, nails biting into your palm. “Yeah,” you said, barely above a whisper.

"You didn’t have to," he argued, softer this time.

A humorless laugh scraped its way out of your throat. “Right. I should’ve just sat there while she took her little digs at me, while you let her.”

In the window’s reflection, you caught the subtle furrow of his brows. "I didn’t—"

"You didn’t stop her," you cut in, voice sharp with hurt, shaky fingers pulling at the loose thread on the arm of the armchair. "You didn’t say a damn thing."

Bucky exhaled, dragging a hand down his face, but even that felt controlled—too careful. Like he was holding something back. “I wasn’t taking her side.”

"Sure felt like it," you muttered, voice thick with emotion.

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to argue, but he hesitated. Searching for the right words. That flicker of doubt was enough to send a fresh wave of anguish crashing over you. Your chest ached so deeply, you thought it might cave in.

Letting out a sharp, shaky exhale, you wiped at your cheek, but the tears wouldn’t stop now. Hot and relentless, they spilled over, carving burning trails down your face. You hadn’t even noticed they started falling.

“I’m tired, Buck,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. “I—I’m sorry I put this on you. All these feelings, all these expectations—” Your lips trembled, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to steady, to breathe. "You told me this was a lot. I should’ve listened. This is not on you.”

“Doll—”

“I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have taken all of this space. In your life.” Your chest ached as you forced the words out, each one a sharp-edged truth. “It’s my fault we’re here.”

Here you were, absolving him again. Letting him off the hook, as if that would dull the sting, as if it would fill the hollow ache spreading inside you. You had wanted—desperately—to prove to him, to yourself, that you could be good for him. That you could be enough. And you meant it. You never wanted to add to his burden.

But your heart didn’t care about intentions. It had its own plans.

“But you shouldn’t have forced me,” your voice cracked. Your breath hitched as the truth clawed its way out. The emotion swelled, sharp and raw, spilling out like an open wound.

Your head dropped into your hands, fingers digging into your scalp, desperate for something—anything—to ground you. “You shouldn’t have asked me to tell you I loved you when you weren’t sure you were ready for it.”

A sharp sob tore through you—too sudden, too raw to contain.

Humiliation burned beneath your skin, prickling hot and unbearable. Unraveling in front of him, breaking in front of him—it was too much. Your body trembled with the sheer effort of holding yourself together, of not crumbling completely under the weight of it all.

“Can you—” You gulped, suddenly unable to sit still. The walls were closing in. The air felt too thick, your skin too tight. You shot out of your chair, stumbling back like distance could somehow lessen the hurt. “Can you leave, please?Can you stay with Sam? I don’t… I don’t want you to see this again.” Your hands swiped furiously at your wet cheeks, as if that could erase everything he had seen.

Still, you hadn’t looked at him. But you saw his boots—motionless. A few feet away. Unmoving. Like he was rooted to the spot.

“I’ll get you an Uber,” you offered numbly, your voice hollow. “Or I’ll get you a room, they have my card at the front desk.”

“No.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, your shoulders caving in under the weight of his refusal. “Please. I want to be alone.”

“No.”

The second time, it was firmer. Unyielding.

Frustration cracked through the grief. You snapped, voice shaking, “Bucky. I’m begging you. It’s hard enough to keep myself together as it is.”

“Then don’t.”

Your breath hitched.

For the first time, you turned to face him fully.

His jaw was clenched tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides like he was physically stopping himself from reaching for you. His whole body was wound so tight, he looked like he might snap in two if he moved the wrong way. But it was his eyes—stormy, tortured, desperate—that sent a shiver down your spine.

It was like they were begging. Like something inside him was splintering apart right in front of you.

“Don’t?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t what?”

His throat bobbed, his fingers flexing at his sides. The words weren’t coming easy—like he had to force them past whatever wall had been built between you.

“Don’t keep yourself together,” he rasped, voice hoarse and raw. “Don’t hide it from me.”

Anger burned its way through the hurt. You hadn’t meant to fight him—not really. You didn’t want to surrender to the ugliest part of yourself, the part that wanted to scream at him, to tell him how unfair it was. That he made you love him. That he let you have him, only to pull himself away.

You didn’t want to say it.

But the words came anyway.

“Is that something you need?” you bit out, blinking hard against the wetness in your eyes, surprising even yourself with the venom in your voice. “To see me in pain because of you? Does it help?”

Bucky flinched like you had struck him, but he didn’t turn away. Instead, he shook his head, something breaking through the torment in his expression as he whispered, “Don’t—don’t push me away.”

You laughed. Hollow and tired.

"I’m not! I am holding on for dear life. But you’re here, right?" Sarcasm oozed from your words. "Just like you’ve been for the past few weeks? Just like you were tonight, when I needed you?"

Guilt flashed across his face. But you didn’t let him interrupt. Not this time.

"You haven’t been here," you accused, the words raw and painful. "Not really. And I don’t know if you even want to be."

His lips parted, but nothing came out.

No reassurances. No denials.

Just silence.

A fresh stubborn tear slipped down your cheek, and you hated yourself for it.

"You don’t even see it, do you?" Your breath trembled. "How you keep me just close enough to feel like I matter, but never close enough to be sure. You show up, you sleep in my bed, you kiss me like—God, like you want me, like you care—and you touch me like— like you own me. Like you’re mine.”

Your voice broke.

Bucky’s hands, flesh and metal, twitched violently. His fingers curled, then released. Like his own goddamn body was screaming at him to touch you. To reach for you. To hold on. And he wouldn’t let himself.

"But then I see you looking at me," you continued. "Like, you’re trying to figure out when your window for leaving is. When our time is up."

Bucky inhaled sharply, like he had just been punched in the gut.

His entire body jerked forward.

Like he almost reached for you.

Like he forgot.

"I—" Shaking his head, frustration flickered in his stormy eyes. "I don’t know how to do this," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "How to… be happy. Settled."

"Is that why you pulled away? Because you feel guilty about being happy?"

His silence was answer enough.

"Why?"

Bucky’s gaze dropped to the floor, jaw clenching. You saw it—the moment his shoulders caved, as if the weight of everything he’d ever carried had finally grown too heavy.

"Because… because it feels like I’m moving on from everything." His voice was barely there. "From Steve, from… them. The people I hurt. The ones I lost.” He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. You could see his lips were dry, clinging to each other as he spoke. "It feels like I’m leaving them behind. Like being happy with you is—"

"So you think being miserable is some kind of penance?"

The truth settled uncomfortably between you.

"That’s not what I’m doing—"

"Isn’t it?" you asked, softer now. Not even when it hurt you, could you truly be angry at him. "I can see you torturing yourself. Like this somehow balances it all out. Like it pays some stupid karmic debt you think you owe to the universe."

A muscle feathered in his jaw. His hands were trembling at his sides, and you ached to go over. To close your hand around them and soothe the storm. You didn’t.

"Do you… do you even care about me?"

His head snapped up. The sharpness of his gaze was cutting, the blue burning like fire.

"How could you ask that?" Bucky rasped, but his voice cracked, like it was breaking him open just to say it. He pressed forward, his hands lifted—hovering near you—but instead of touching, he dragged them roughly through his hair. "I do—God, I do, doll. I care so fucking much—"

He sucked in a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling erratically. "Then why are you treating that like it’s a crime?"

Bucky shook his head, his breath hitching as he took one step back—and then another, like he couldn’t trust himself to be near you.

"Because what if I mess this up?" His voice was a whisper now, rough and ragged. "What if I let myself have this—have you—and then I fuck up?”

His hands were shaking. His entire body was tense, rigid. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, like he was physically trying to hold himself together.

"Look at you," he choked out, his voice breaking. "You’re already hurt, and it’s my fault.”

“I am not made of glass.”

Bucky laughed, bitter. “Look at my history. Every relationship I’ve ever had has ended in disaster. I either outlive people or they leave or…” His breath caught. “Or I hurt them. Like I’m hurting you now.”

"Bucky… Love isn’t just the good parts. Love… really fucking sucks, most of the time. Because it hurts when the person you love is gone, it hurts when they don’t love you back, it hurts when they don’t want the same things as you. You, of all people, should know that."

Hurt flashed across his features, his chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths. “That’s not fair.”

You shook your head, a fresh tear slipping down your cheek. “What’s not fair is that I told you I loved you, but I still don’t know if you love me back.”

His entire body stiffened. Like the words hit him somewhere deep. “Loved?”

“Nothing’s changed,” you smiled through the tears. “I don't think it ever will. I’m… not even sure I can even love anyone else. You can rest assured there'll always be someone out there who loves you. But... I don't want to be another burden in your already heavy load. If this... if this is over—” you inhaled sharply, too tired to fight back your tears, “then at least let me cry about it without thinking I've added more to your hurt.”

“Over?” His voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it. A warning. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“What is there to break up?” Your shoulders lifted, tension pulling you up by the spine, keeping you tightly coiled. “We never even started. It's been months and I still don’t know what this is. Look, Buck, it’s okay. Really. We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to make it worse than it already is. You’re… you’re free to go if you want. I won’t hold it against you—”

Bucky shook his head, stepping closer, his hands twitching to grab you but wasn’t sure if he had the right. “Quit talking like you’re leaving and sparing me from something.”

The sharpness in his voice took you by surprise, and you flinched, arms coming up to wrap around yourself.

The movement seemed to snap something in him. Before you could retreat any further, his hands shot out, grabbed your arms, his grip strong, grounding and he pulled you closer until you had to tip your head back to look at him. “You think I don’t love you?”

You exhaled shakily, eyes darting anywhere but his eyes. His lips, his temple, the cut of his jaw… anywhere but the blue that seemed to pull you in. “I don’t know.”

"I don’t—” His voice broke, and he exhaled sharply through his nose, like he was trying to force himself to hold it together. "I don’t know how to love someone without being terrified that I’ll lose them.”

His hand left your arms and hovered over the sides of you. He hesitated and then finally both hands slid down the sides of your head until he could cup your cheeks tightly, thumbs brushing over the tracks of tears. "But don’t you ever—ever—think for a goddamn second that I don’t love you."

The words ripped out of him, shaky and uneven. His fingers swiped under your eyes, his breath coming fast and heavy—like the weight of saying it out loud was too much, too real.

Your breath caught in your throat and he searched your face, looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t voiced.

Bucky’s grip tightened, just enough for you to feel the desperation in his touch. “I love you, okay? I love you in a way that scares the hell out of me. I love you so much it makes me sick thinking about what happens if I mess this up. If I lose you.” He swallowed hard, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. “I know I’ve been distant. Shit, I know I’ve been a coward. But don’t walk away from me, doll. Please.”

Tears slipped freely down your cheeks, and Bucky watched you, his own eyes glassy, his breathing uneven. “If you need me to say it again, I will. I love you. I love you.”

You let out a choked sound, a sob mixed with a disbelieving laugh. “Then stop acting like you’re just waiting to walk away.”

Bucky seemed to stop breaking.

Before before he could think, his arms slid down and around you in a tight, bruising hug—pulling you toward him so fast it made you gasp when you collided with his chest.

One hand cradled the back of your head, the other locked around your waist, anchoring you to him. His cheek pressed against the crown of your head. His grip was desperate.

When he spoke again, his voice was rough with emotion. “Please, don’t give up on me. I will fight for this. For you. Just—just tell me how. Tell me what I need to do.”

You swallowed hard, your whole body trembling, the cage of his arms not enough to settle the cracks in your foundation. “I don't want you to fight, Buck. You've done enough fighting for a lifetime... I just want you to stop running.”

His breath came unsteady, uneven—like he was grasping for control, like your words had struck a chord buried deep, like you had unearthed a truth no one else had ever dared to see.

You shifted, pressing your cheek to his chest, feeling the warmth of him, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His lips found the top of your head first, lingering there as he breathed you in, like he was grounding himself in your presence.

Then he moved—feverish, desperate—trailing downward. A firm press to your temple, a slow drag of his mouth along your hairline, the heated imprint of his lips brushing over your cheekbone. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t careful. Every kiss landed like a silent plea, a confession woven into the way his lips chased your skin.

His mouth pressed to your cheek, then lower, grazing the curve of your jaw, the column of your throat. A shudder ran through him, his breath hot and uneven as he mapped a frantic path across your skin, like he could make up for every moment he’d hesitated, every time he’d pulled away.

And then—his hands framed your face, tilting your head up, and before you could take another breath, his lips crashed into yours. There was nothing hesitant about it. No slow build, no caution. Just raw, unfiltered hunger. He kissed you like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers, like he needed to feel you, to claim you, to prove to himself you were still here.

His kiss deepened, insistent, tongue gliding into your mouth with a possessive quality, as if he was trying to consume you, body and soul, with the force of it. His hands, still gripping you with a desperation that bordered on frantic, slid down your sides, tightening around your waist. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against yours, was a silent plea, a confession he couldn’t put into words.

Hands to his chest, you could feel the tension in his body, like he was fighting to control something inside himself. His mouth never stopped moving against yours, as if he feared losing the taste of you. His thumb grazed the edge of your jaw, his touch tender but desperate, his other hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

The heat between you both intensified, every moment stretching longer, heavier. His lips trailed down to your neck again, kissing you with the same urgency, and you could feel the tension in his grip, the way his body tightened.

It was a desperate kind of connection, raw and unguarded. His mouth tore from yours, just for a second, long enough for him to drop lower, hands finding the backs of your thighs, fingers digging in, his grip possessive. The metal arm coiled around your neck, not in restraint, but as if anchoring himself to you—like letting go wasn’t an option. With effortless strength, he lifted you, your legs instinctively locking around his waist as your breath hitched.

“Bucky—” His name barely left your lips before he stole it, kissing you again, harder, needier, swallowing the sharp gasp you made when your back hit the wall.

His face buried against your throat, breath ragged, lips finding the curve of your collarbone before trailing lower. The scrape of stubble burned in the best way, and when his teeth grazed your skin—testing, teasing—you trembled.

Heat pooled low in your center and you welcomed the bruising grip of both his hands. It was the roughest he’s ever been with you–like finally, after all of your attempts at showing him, he realized he could really hold on to you. It was glorious. Overwhelming. Life-changing.

“I want—” he rasped, his voice rough, before he gulped down the words.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, the sound vibrating against your chest. “What?,” you breathed, encouraging him to continue. “Tell me.”

His metal hand slid beneath your shirt, the chilled vibranium skimming your ribs. The contrast of heat and cold sent a shudder through you, and you arched into him, chasing his touch. He made a sound, almost guttural, and pressed closer—like he could crawl inside you if he just tried hard enough.

“I want you closer,” he confessed, hips pressing forward against your center and you choked, swearing under your breath. “Can’t get close enough,” he cried out, voice tortured, and you felt it—his desperation, his need, his devotion seeping into every frantic touch.

“Inside,” you gasped between kisses, a whiny, pathetic little sound escaping when you felt how hard he was under his pants. “Get inside me.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he hesitated, forehead pressing to yours as if grounding himself. “Okay,” he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut, his hand leaving your body to find the back of your neck. “Okay. Hold on to me.”

You felt his fingers tighten as he held you close to him, your breaths mingling. Then, with a groan, he moved—metal arm securing you against him as he moved with purpose toward the bed.

The world tilted as he laid you down, your back hitting the mattress before he followed you down like gravity itself pulled him to you. His metal hand spread wide over your ribs as he settled beside you, grounding you, while his flesh fingers traced a slow, reverent path up your thigh, leaving fire in their wake.

“Undress me,” you urged him, impatient, the emptiness between your legs, where he was supposed to be, growing heavier the longer he stalled.

“Maybe we should slow down,” he shook his head, hovering above you, six feet of super soldier clouding your vision, pressing you down, invading your senses. You could feel his hand, teasing the edge of your pants, and you wanted him to rip it. “Let me– let make love to you.”

“Is that what you want?” You asked, seeking his mouth for a searing kiss, and he had to wrap your hands around your neck to force you to break it, both of you breathless and panting. “If that’s what you want then I’ll let you take your time. Is it? Do you want it slow?”

“I don’t know, I don–” Bucky said through his teeth. “No. No.”

Your hand reached for the one of his that hovered hesitantly over the buttons of your pants and you dragged it between your legs, where you were sure he could feel your warmth. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth pulling his bottom lip into his mouth like he was waging a war inside him, trying to decide between going slow, being careful, and something else, something he hadn’t allowed himself with you yet.

The sound that tore from Bucky’s throat made every hair on your body stand on end. It was raw, primal—like he was barely holding himself together, barely restraining the violent desperation thrumming through his veins. And then he was on you, crawling over your body, pressing you down into the mattress, his knee shoving between your thighs, forcing your legs apart.

The weight of him, heavy and warm, sank into you, stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes fluttered shut, chest rising and falling in a rapid, uneven rhythm as you tried—tried—to keep yourself from splintering apart beneath him. Maybe if you closed your eyes, if you didn’t look up at him like this, you could pretend you weren’t already coming undone.

Bucky leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, voice nothing more than a husky rasp. “Wanna know what I want?”

A shudder racked through you at the way his knee pressed tighter against your center, the friction making your hips roll up to chase the sensation, fingers twisting into his shirt.

His hands were already at your jeans, fingers working the zipper down, slipping beneath the waistband as he dragged the fabric lower. “I wanna ruin you.”

You stopped breathing.

“I wanna—” He faltered, his voice hoarse, almost pained.

“Yeah?” Your voice was barely a whisper, hoarse with want. Your fingers twisted into his shirt, yanking him closer, but no matter how much of him you took, it still wasn’t enough. You were drowning in him, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

His eyes, dark and consuming, burned into yours, the blue almost swallowed by blown-out pupils. “So you never want anyone else. So you never leave.”

The words sent a violent tremor through your core, your entire body aching with the sheer intensity of him, the possessiveness in his voice curling around you like a vice.

His hands tightened, wrapping around the waist of your jeans, yanking them down in one firm pull, the fabric dragging off your heated skin. The cold air of the room hit you all at once, raising goosebumps, but the way Bucky’s hands followed the path of your exposed skin, warm and reverent, made you forget everything else.

His touch was possessive, reverent, like he was worshipping the way you fit against his palm. The next thing you knew, your shirt was gone, your bra undone, and you followed every nudge of his hands without question, arching when he needed you to, pliant beneath his ministrations.

His touch burned—traced the plush curve of your ass, the dip of your waist, the soft swell of your breasts. You felt stripped bare under his gaze, not just physically, but completely, like he was seeing you through to your soul. His hands roamed, memorizing, before his fingers brushed over your nipples, metal and flesh teasing over the sensitive peaks, sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine.

You were speechless. Mute, save for the sound of your own labored breathing. No teasing. No back and forth. No playful banter to lighten the moment. Just him, devouring you with his touch, his eyes, his sheer presence. This wasn’t the usual rhythm you’d fallen into with him—this wasn’t the flirtation, the teasing, the game of pushing each other to the edge before finally breaking.

This was different. He was different.

Uncharted.

You had been with Bucky before, had laughed with him in bed, teased him until he lost control, pushed each other until you were both teetering on the edge of pleasure—but this? This was a different version of him. Of you. This was Bucky taking. Claiming.

There was something unrelenting about the way he looked at you, something single-minded in his focus. Like nothing else existed outside of this room. Outside of you. It was unnerving. It was intoxicating.

You barely noticed when the last of your clothes disappeared. When his followed. When you were suddenly maneuvered further up the bed, his hands firm, taking what he wanted, what was his.

His skin was hot, firm, pressing against every part of you. His hands were less gentle now, rougher, gripping, kneading, owning. A fresh wave of need pulsed between your legs, slick and desperate, and you gasped his name, reaching for skin, needing more of him.

“James.”

He didn’t answer.

He was already moving down, kneeling in front of your bent knees, reaching for a pillow. His metal fingers wrapped around your ankles, the grip possessive, guiding them up until they rested on his shoulder.

“Keep them up, sweetheart,” he ordered, voice thick with command. Your stomach twisted, anticipation and nerves tightening low in your belly as you obeyed, trembling when his vibranium hand ran over the smooth skin of your calf, all the way to your ankle.

“What’s happening?” you rasped, reaching out, your palm smoothing over the firm muscle of his thigh. You could see him now—see all of him. The strong cut of his shoulders, the sculpted lines of his chest, the hard planes of muscle leading down to his waist, the deep v-line that framed his cock, thick and aching between his thighs.

You were so distracted—so consumed by the sight of him—that you barely processed what he was doing until his hands gripped your ankle and pulled you up, lifting you, shoving the pillow beneath you.

Realization hit you like a lightning strike.

“Wait, Buck—”

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” His voice was deeper now, raspier like gravel. “As far as you can.”

The way he tapped your hip—gentle, coaxing, but expectant—sent shivers rolling down your spine. He’d never been this firm with you before, never this authoritative. You hesitated for only a second, nerves fluttering in your belly as you shifted, knees starting to close on instinct.

Bucky waited. He didn’t push, didn’t rush—just watched. Jaw tight. Eyes dark. Waiting. Patient. Certain that you would listen.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to relax, to give him what he wanted. And when you finally opened up, when your thighs parted, wide and willing, he breathed—like he’d been waiting for you to give yourself to him like this.

Your own breath stuttered when his gaze zeroed in between your thighs. You clenched around nothing, your body already reacting to the sheer intensity of his attention, to the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

You hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected him to be like this. This wasn’t just sex. This was ownership in a way he never had before.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, reverent. “All for me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed, breath coming in short gasps.

And then—

His mouth was on you.

The first drag of his tongue was slow, deliberate, a firm, unrelenting glide over your slit that made your entire body jolt. A sharp noise tore from your lips, your hands flying to his hair before you even realized what you were doing.

Your back arched off the bed.

“Bucky—”

Your thighs instinctively snapped shut, a desperate moan tearing from your lips at the unexpected shock of pleasure.

He pulled back, and the sound that followed—the filthy, wet pop—made your jaw drop. You barely restrained yourself from rolling your hips up, chasing his mouth, already desperate to feel more.

Bucky hummed against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, the vibration making you shiver.

“James,” he murmured against the inside of your thigh, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there, his tongue soothing over where his teeth had nipped. His voice was low, commanding, sinful. “Your James when I’m between your legs, remember?”

Your breath hitched, chest heaving. His voice alone had you unraveling—low and dark, smooth as silk, dripping in authority.

“Y-yes, yes, I’m sorry—”

“Open.” His vibranium fingers tapped your hip, patient but insistent.

You hesitated, your heart hammering.

“Wait, wait, give me a second,” you stammered, shaking. “I—I wasn’t ready…”

You weren’t.

Of all the times you had been with Bucky—hot, desperate, overwhelming—you had never done this. He had never taken you apart like this. You had felt his hands, his cock, the sheer force of his body claiming yours. But his mouth—

His mouth on your cunt—

It was too much.

Bucky pulled back just slightly, brows furrowing, the intensity in his eyes softening. “Should I not…?”

“No, no, that’s not—it’s not that,” you rushed out, shaking your head, your entire body already aching for him again. “Please, I want it, I just—fuck.”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting. The words felt thick in your throat, raw, real in a way that sent another pulse of heat between your legs. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

That he was going to do it. That he even wanted it.

His expression darkened, something possessive settling over him like a storm rolling in.

“You didn’t know? That I want you?” he murmured, voice a breath away from a growl. His hands slid up the backs of your thighs, slow, deliberate, hooking under your knees. He urged them open again, spreading you wide for him. Your cheeks were ablaze. His gaze never left yours, watching, waiting, demanding.

“That I wanna make you mine?”

Your breath caught, your nails dragging over the back of his head, gripping, needing.

“I am yours,” you whispered, voice breaking over the truth of it.

Bucky exhaled sharply, the words hitting something deep inside him, something unshakable.

“Not in every way.” His nose brushed against the slick heat of your slit, and you whimpered, your hips jerking, your legs trembling in his grip. “Not yet.”

Then he pressed his mouth fully against you, the flat of his tongue dipping into your soaked entrance, unrelenting. Your entire body seized, pleasure slamming through you like lightning, sharp and searing, robbing you of breath.

Bucky groaned—deep and wrecked—like the taste of you was something sacred, something he had been starving for. His hands flexed against your thighs, gripping harder, holding you still.

“But you will be,” he murmured, words slurring against you, breath hot, tongue teasing.

One slow, open-mouthed kiss to your clit. Your thighs twitched, but his hands tightened, keeping you spread open for him.

His tongue flicked over you again, this time more insistent, more focused, more intentional.

“It’s inevitable, sweetheart,” he mused, his voice a low vibration against your core, before dragging his tongue over you again, dipping into you, savoring.

You gasped, fisting the sheets.

“Made for me,” he murmured. His grip on you tightened as he buried himself between your legs, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking, teasing, owning. “Every part of you.”

You sobbed his name, back arching.

“That’s why I had to know,” he said, voice thick, ragged, vibrating against you, filling every space inside you.

“How you taste. How you feel.” Another slow lick, another deep groan from him, another whimper from you. “Because it’s you and me, isn’t it?”

Your whole body was trembling now, breath shallow, eyes unfocused.

“You’re mine, and I’m yours,” he rasped.

You didn’t know how long he stayed between your legs.

Time ceased to exist, reality blurred at the edges, and all that was left was him.

His arms were locked under and around your thighs, strong and unyielding, pulling you closer, keeping you pinned beneath the relentless heat of his mouth, working you through your second peak, then your third—dragging it out until you were wrecked. The pillow beneath your hips tilted you just right, letting him feast on you without resistance, without space, without break. He worked you over with a hunger that bordered on obsession, like he was determined to know every shudder, every whimper, every broken sob of his name.

Every flick of his tongue, every slow, sinful suck at your clit was answered with a different noise—your gasps, your hitched moans, the choked-off pleas that melted into incoherence. Your hands were tangled in his hair, fingers tightening, pulling, but it only spurred him on. The deeper you buried your nails in his scalp, the deeper he pressed into you, dragging his tongue through your slick heat, slow and ravenous.

When you finally unraveled—violently, desperately—you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt the damp heat of your own tears on your cheeks.

“B-baby,” you sobbed, wrecked beyond recognition, voice cracking on the plea, your legs kicking uselessly against his iron grip. Your back arched off the mattress, your body twisting, shaking everywhere, lost in the intensity of it, your thighs clamping uselessly around his head as he refused to let you go.

He hummed, the vibration of it making your body seize.

“Please, please, James,” you called his name, hoping it’d snap him out of it. “Bucky, come on, please—”

He groaned against you, a filthy, starved sound, and his lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking, tongue teasing, pressure building and building—

You came so hard your vision blanked.

Everything inside you shattered, pleasure so sharp and deep it broke you.

Your body couldn’t take anymore. You were spent, overstimulated, your mind blank, floating between pleasure and exhaustion. The release had hit you like a tidal wave, and it hadn’t stopped, pulling you under, drowning you in sensation, your limbs shaking violently beneath his grip.

“F-fuck, stop, stop, s-stop, please!” you begged, foot pressing weakly against his shoulder, trying to push him off.

He finally relented, coming up with a gasp, like he’d been underwater and he’d finally managed to climb to the surface.

It dawned on you, then, that this wasn’t about pleasure. He wasn’t just tasting you for the first time. He was consuming you.

Mapping every inch of you with his tongue, etching himself into you, branding you from the inside out. And you hadn’t realized—hadn’t even noticed—that he was just as lost in it as you were.

You didn’t see the way his hands were shaking, how his shoulders trembled from the force of holding himself back. You hadn’t registered the choked, wrecked groans spilling from his throat every time he buried his tongue deeper, pressing into you, like the taste of you was breaking him.

Not until he finally pulled back.

Not until he crawled over you, dog tags dragging over your skin and raising goosebumps along the way.

That was when you saw it—the way he was shaking just as bad as you were, his lips kiss-swollen and wet, his pupils blown wide and wild as they raked over you.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth was on yours—hot, deep, claiming.

And oh, god—

You could taste yourself on his tongue.

Bucky groaned, pressing impossibly closer, his body covering yours, his cock heavy, leaking and pressing between your aching slit, sinking you into the mattress like there would never be enough of you to sate him.

“Baby—” you murmured against his lips, dizzy, trembling, still trying to recover, but he swallowed the sound whole, kissing you harder, his hands tangling in your hair, tilting your head back so he could take more.

You barely recognized him like this.

Wild. Uncontrolled.

Starving.

He braced himself on his elbows, his nose brushing yours, his mouth still wet with you, his breath hot as it fanned across your lips. He was vibrating with barely contained energy and you could see it, deep in the blue of his eyes, there was something else, something he hadn’t gotten a handle on, clawing its way up to the surface.

His thumb wiped at the tear tracks on your cheeks and you swallowed hard, reaching up to wrap a hand around his wrist, trying to soothe his and your own tremors, still struggling to catch your breath, still spinning, your body too weak to do anything but let him devour you with his gaze. Your thighs, weak, pressed against his sides.

Your hands trembled as they slid over the slick rigid curve of his back, across the unyielding strength of his shoulders and down to his chest. His heart was hammering under your palm, thundering like a war drum, wild and unrelenting.

“You’re shaking.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, his breath hitching as he gulped in air, like he was drowning. His vibranium hand clenched against the crown of your head, fingers twisting into your hair, holding on like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“Can I—” His voice was strained, like he barely had the air to form the words. He grinded against you, needy, and you shivered.

“Yes,” you whispered before he could finish. The word was soft but firm, a reassurance, a promise. You shifted beneath him, wrapping your legs fully around his waist, pulling him closer. One arm curled around his neck, your other hand still pressed firmly over his heart.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered, voice hoarse.

You obeyed, though it took everything in you not to look down as he reached between your bodies. The first nudge of his tip had a gasp spilling from your lips, the slow, aching press of him sending a shiver down your spine.

His forehead dropped against yours, breath uneven as he eased in, the slickness of your wetness and his tongue making it effortless for his cock to split you open.

“Fuck,” Bucky rasped, his jaw clenching so tight you swore you could hear his teeth grind. “Look at you. Always take me so well… made for me, weren’t you, doll?”

“F-fuck, yes, yes,” you gasped, your head pressing back into the mattress.

With the pillow beneath your hips, the angle felt different—deeper, somehow, like he was carving himself into you, and it made your mind swim.

“Yes what?”

“I was made for you,” you nodded, head thrashing as your hips rolled up to meet his. His whole body shuddered.

“Wha the fuck, how are you’re so deep,” you sobbed, overwhelmed. “Holy fuck, I’m–”

Bucky let out a sharp exhale, pulling back and pressing in again, slow, deliberate, pushing deeper inch by inch until he bottomed out. The stretch of him filled you to the brim, stealing every ounce of breath from your lungs, every thought from your head, until there was nothing but him.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, shaking, nails scraping his scalp. You forced your eyes open, desperate to see him—

And the sight wrecked you.

His pupils were blown wide, his expression stricken, like something inside of him was breaking apart piece by piece. His body taut like a bowstring about to snap, his breath labored, rattling like it was hurting him to hold it in.

He thrust into you, deep and sharp, hard, his hands gripping at your waist, your thighs, anywhere he could hold onto. His rhythm was frantic, uneven, like he was chasing something he couldn’t catch, something just out of reach. Every drag of him against your walls, every wet slap of skin on skin, every sound ripped from your lips only seemed to unravel him further.

He was gone.

“J-James—” you called, swallowing against the lump in your throat, but he wasn’t listening.

His head dropped against your shoulder, lips pressing into your throat, his breath ragged, body trembling. He pushed your leg up, pressing it to his shoulder and you yelped when he thrust again, and then again, and again, the force behind it pushing both of you up the bed, skin slick with sweat gliding, his movements stuttering—

“Tell me something,” he ground out, his voice cracking like he was holding onto something fragile, something slipping right through his fingers. “Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“You want me?”

“Yes, baby–”

He needed something from you.

Something more than just this.

This wasn’t just about needing you physically—it was something clawing at him from the inside out. He needed proof. Reassurance. A vow sealed in the way your bodies tangled, in the words you breathed against his skin.

“You won’t leave again?”

“I didn’t–”

“Don’t leave m–” And then he thrust so sharply—quick, deep, pushing the air from your lungs, making your whole body tighten beneath him.

Then again.

And again.

Each movement came with a noise, a sharp exhale, a choked-off sound, something fractured, something beyond his control.

Bucky let out a sound—something low and strangled, you felt it in your bones. His hands were shaking, his grip bruising.

You knew it before he did.

His whole body locked up, chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow gasps. His eyes were wild, unfocused, his lips parted, but no air seemed to be enough. He was panicking.

You felt the tremors wracking through him, his grip on your hip bruising now, his cock twitching inside you, his thrusts growing frantic, desperate, like he was fighting to stay here, in this moment with you, fighting against whatever storm was raging inside of him.

He had lost himself in you, and now he was spiraling.

“Bucky—Bucky, stop,” you gasped, voice urgent.

You cupped his face, your touch firm but gentle despite the chaotic energy rolling off him in waves, your thumbs stroking his cheekbones, coaxing him back to you, back to himself.

“Baby, James,” you called, louder, pulling him to the surface. “Look at me. Come back to me. Come on, honey, come back to me.”

His whole body shook. He sucked in a stuttering breath, his chest heaving, and finally—

His eyes flickered open.

And god, he looked so lost.

Blue eyes wide, glassy, unfocused, his lips parted like he was about to speak, but no words came out, only a shaky exhale.

“Bucky,” you whispered, relieved, tilting his chin until he was fully looking at you. “It’s okay, ‘you’re okay. You’re not alone,” you whispered, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones, over the curve of his jaw, soft, grounding. “I’ve got you. I’m right here, Bucky.”

His breath hitched.

You pressed your forehead against his, noses brushing, keeping him anchored to you, letting him feel you, letting him hear you. “Breathe with me,” you murmured, voice gentle, coaxing.

One breath in.

One breath out.

His chest rose sharply, fell again, but you held him there, hands warm, voice soft, whispering his name like a lifeline, one after the other until he exhaled.

His grip loosened, his muscles uncoiling one by one, his weight settling over you, solid and real, no longer fighting, no longer lost. You felt the moment he let go, the moment the tension bled from his body. You wrapped your arms around him, threading fingers through his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, soothing, comforting.

“You’re safe,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his temple, his cheek, the damp skin of his shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

For a long time, he didn’t speak. He didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t pull out, the mess between your legs sticky and uncomfortable even though he hadn’t finished and by the time he finally moved, bracing his weight on unsteady forearms, you were sore.

When he looked at you, something inside of him had shifted. You swore you could see it. The way he was looking at you, like you were something sacred, something steady, something he never thought he could have. Like home. And now you were it for him.

His fingers trembled as he reached for your face, brushing a stray lock of hair from your cheek, tracing the curve of your lips as if he needed to convince himself you were really here.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was hoarse.

You turned into his touch, catching his palm in yours, pressing a kiss to the center of it. “I’m here.”

His throat bobbed again. His forehead dropped against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he exhaled, slow, measured, steady.

“I—I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice barely there.

“It’s okay.” You shook your head, your fingers tracing slow, comforting lines down his spine.

A sharp exhale. A quiet, broken sound that he swallowed down before it could form into something more. His hand tightened around yours.

"Will you do something for me?" You reached up, brushing the damp hair from his forehead before your fingers found the familiar chain around his neck. His dog tags. He hadn’t taken them off. You could still feel the sore spot on your chest, where the weight of him had imprinted them into your skin. Branded you. You were sure his name had somehow found its way into your skin like a tattoo. The thought made your breath hitch, made something twist in your stomach.

Your fingers closed around the tags, feeling the warmth of the metal against your palm. "Tell me your name?"

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Didn’t question you.

"Bucky," he breathed. His lips were dry, sticking together until his tongue darted out to wet them.

"Full name. Please," you coaxed, fingertips dragging along the chain.

He swallowed, the movement thick, but his gaze remained steady. "James Buchanan Barnes."

"Good," you murmured, leaning up to brush your nose against his, the tight squeeze around your heart easing slightly. "Your rank."

His jaw clenched. "It’s not—" He shook his head, frustration flickering through the blue of his eyes. "It’s not like that anymore. I’m not—"

"I know, my love." Your thumbs caressed his cheeks, grounding him, guiding him. "I’m not worried about that… I’m trying to help. Your rank, please."

A slow inhale. A heavy exhale.

"Sergeant James Barnes."

"Good," you whispered. "And where are we?”

“Washington.”

Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, you squeezed him into a hug. “You're here. You're with me. You’re safe."

His arms wrapped around you then, pulling you in, holding you close like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing, whispering reassurances against his temple.

"What happened?" you asked gently.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I don’t... I don’t know,” he rasped, his voice unsteady. “I just—” He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “I couldn’t get close enough. I tried, but it wasn’t— I don’t know how to explain it. It was like my chest was too tight, my head too full, my body—fuck, my body wouldn’t settle. I just... I got lost in you.”

Your heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in his voice, at the way he trembled against you. You cradled the back of his head, anchoring him, holding him steady. “I think you got overstimulated,” you said gently, your lips brushing against his hair. “Too much sensation all at once.”

He didn’t respond right away, but you felt his small nod against your neck, his breath still uneven.

“We should maybe talk about it later,” you offered. “Find a way to help ground you when it happens.”

A long silence stretched between you before he finally murmured, “Yeah. Yeah, that might help.”

Your hands traced gentle patterns along his back, feeling some of the tension still locked in his muscles. “There’s something else,” you said, shifting just enough to meet his eyes. “Buck... is there something you need from me, baby? I don’t want to trigger you, but—” You hesitated, searching his face. “—you were trying to do something to me, get something, and I’m not sure what.”

His jaw tensed, and for a moment, you thought he might shut down. But then he took a slow breath, his eyes dark and heavy with something unspoken. “You told me once this was something you couldn’t walk away from. But you left,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “At the house, you left. And I thought... I thought you realized I wasn’t worth it. I thought I lost you. Then, when we talked, it felt like no matter what I said, I couldn’t hold on to you. You were the only person who ever chose me, scars and all... and I was losing you.” He exhaled, long and slow. “I was scared. And I think—I think I was trying to make you stay. To... I don’t know. Brand you as mine. If you were mine, then you couldn’t leave. Something like that.”

His words cracked you open, and emotion crawled up your throat, thick and suffocating. There had already been too many breakdowns tonight, too much emotion spilling over, but you couldn’t stop the way your chest ached for him.

“Bucky,” you mumbled, shifting slightly, your leg sliding up the back of his thigh, needing to ground yourself in him. “I’m gonna say something, and you can take your time with it, okay?”

He nodded, silent.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “When I left, it wasn’t because I wanted to. It was because I was hurting. I was so scared I was losing you—to your fear, to that fucking bitch Sharon—” he huffed out a laugh, and you pinched his waist. “—that I couldn’t even think straight.” You shook your head, fingers tightening in his hair. “You were pulling away, and I wasn’t sure if... if loving you would be enough. For you.”

His eyes snapped to yours, wide and wounded, but you pressed on before he could interrupt, blinking up at the ceiling, too afraid to look at him. “But I want to be your person. I want to be yours for the rest of our lives if you’ll have me. I really do.”

His breath hitched, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “So this is the part you can't get scared about, okay?” You nodded, closing your eyes. “I’m talking stupid-ass marriage and babies if that’s what forever means to you. Or any other version of it. Not now, because we have so much to figure out still, but… this is it, for me.”

“And I don’t ever want to force your hand. I will never force you into anything, do you understand that?” You cupped his cheek, thumb brushing over the faint stubble. “I will ask for what I need, I will lay it all out, but I will never demand something from you that you’re not ready to give.”

You couldn’t help the next part, the jealous part of you still shaken from earlier. “And if you wanted to leave me for that bitch, I’d call you a dumbass and probably punch you and cry myself to sleep for the rest of my life, but if it truly made you happy... I wouldn’t stop you.”

He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to yours, his breathing uneven, the hint of a smile pulling on the corners of his lips. “Stop talking about Sharon while I’m still inside you.”

“Fine.” You shifted, huffing, annoyed, and he groaned. “Ignore everything I just told you and focus on that.”

He finally laughed then, and you felt yourself relax a little, relieved. “We’re so fucked up,” you breathed out, a mixture of a laugh and a sob, and you squeezed him, your body a cage around his. “Truly, it’s amazing we even got this far.”

“Well, you chose to fall in love with a brainwashed assassin,” he accused, and you laughed again, this time a tear slipping down your cheek.

“Former assassin. Current traumatized hunk. And I did, god, I really did,” you nodded, nuzzling his neck. “And I’d do it again. And again, and again.”

“Good thing there’s only one of me. And only one of you. Only have to go through it once.”

“As many times as it takes, Bucky.”

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

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cheriladycl01 · 1 year ago

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I loved Lando x Actress reader. Can I have Lando x singer reader? Thank uuuuu 🫶🏻

Sing your heart out because he ripped your heart out! Lando Norris x Singer! Reader

Plot: You are a famous singer who was in a pretty toxic relationship and have been single and 'off the grid' for 2 years since your breakup. You come back online dropping a new album that gets people stirred from the tea but the tease at your new relationship.

"Today here on Off Camera with me Sam Jones we have Y/N Y/L/N here to talk about everything, from her new albums and songs, to her hiatus, to her sightings, to her relationships" he smiles looking over at you.

"Thank you for having me, it feels great being back and you know talking and meeting new people and I've always wanted to be on a podcast like this so I'm very excited!" you smile and get comfier into the nice seats you guys are in.

"So i think we've got to ask how are you feeling after your time away from the media?"

"So refreshed it was really healing to take myself away from everything. I think a lot of things were being said about me when I first deactivated everything. A lot of them being outright lies, and you know I didn't want to be aware of what people were saying... naturally" you starts and he nods for you to continue.

"But everyday I'd have my friends coming to me saying... have you seen what Taylor Swift has tweeted about you, have you seen what Beyonce and RiRi said. And I'd be like no and I don't even want to know. But when she showed me the love I was getting from all of these amazing people I've worked and collabed with over the years, movie stars who I've walked red carpets with and been in cameos of their movies, models who I've walked runways with all sticking up for me saying how they couldn't imagine anything said about my relationship to be true" you explain and he nods again.

"Yeah, it was actually really moving seeing all these people coming together for you in support! I think even after what certain people said about you the large majority had your back..." he admits to you.

"Yeah, I mean i have some great friends in the industry that you know would message me and always check up on me, so its nice to know that I have people in my corner, after everything that happened!"

"Yeah of course, and I think your new album really shows your raw emotions and I think a lot of people have easily related. So lets go through the album, we have Vicious, which talks about obviously Y/E/B and the emotional scars he's left on you. One of my personal faves is 'bet u wanna' where you talk about being mistreated in relationship and calling it off only for them to want you back. Nonsense which obviously has made your fans go stir crazy- wondering whose got you feeling this way. Bad for Business which obviously has a similar tune to Nonsense in whoever you are talking about, and may i just say people will listen to the happy songs because they are incredible! But talk us through the creative process and how your time away released all of these on the album and more!"

"I think, when you go through something like i did. Where you don't necessarily see and end you have these raw emotions that just tend to write themselves on the paper. I had many nights where I'd be sat in the studio hair pulled back, a massive slice of Pizza on my left and a bottle of water on the other and it would honestly just write itself. There were some nights where I'd just cry and sit there. I think things really sped up when I met my current partner" you blush, thinking how much that silly vroom vroom man had helped you.

"Who is he, and how did he help, how did you both meet if you can tell us!" he asks leaning back a little.

"Well, I'm currently dating F1 driver Lando Norris which when this podcast airs and sure will be a shock to everyone. We met when I was in a really weird patch. I think it had been about 8 months I want to say of being single and dealing through my grief and not really knowing what to do with myself. My ex of 5 years was now dating and having a child with the girl he cheated on me with, and honestly I was a mess. My dad decided to take me to a race, it was the one in Austin, we had paddock passes and that's where I met him" you grin thinking back to the day.

*Flashback*

You were at the Circuit of the Americas for race weekend, you were tucked behind your dad who had found some mechanics he was animatedly talking too. Your dad always had a real love for cars, and when you'd made it as a musician you brought him and your mother a larger house with a big garage for a car collection you'd help him grow.

"Damn you've got loads man. How's your girl affording all of this?" the mechanic asks not having seen you as you were wearing both sunglasses and a Ferrari cap.

"I have a ... lucrative job" you croak out a little, if you were being honest with yourself this was probably the first interaction you'd had with a stranger in months, even just any human at that as your contact had been very limited over the past 8 months even to friends and family.

"Ahhh, so what's your fav car in the collection Mr Y/L/N?" the mechanic asks, and some nods from his pals also tells you guys that their interested.

"Oo that's hard it's got to be a toss up between my Mclaren 650S, the Ferrari F8 Spider, or my Rolls Royce Ghost" your father admits trying to think to his collection.

"Not the Porsche?" knowing you'd got that for him for his 50th.

"Mmmmm I forgot about the Porsche" he admits with a chuckle. The mechanics just all looked very shocked at the sheer amount of cars your dad has in his collection.

"Give me a second, I want to see if I can get you guys a garage pass upgrade. I bet you'll want to check out the car's yeah?" he asks making your dad nod very quickly.

You pull your glasses off to give them a wipe as the heat was making them fog up a little and the mechanic gasps, you cock your head realizing he's recognized you.

He scurries of, running back to the Aston Martin garage, he tells all of his friends but says to keep it quiet as he could tell you'd been going through it. Aston Martin didn't have any passes left, so he went to the other garages begging to give you a pass.

"Who did you say was here?" Lando had asked from beside his team mate Daniel Ricciardo.

"Y/N Y/L/N but don't make it public knowledge she's clearly just here to watch the race with her car enthusiast dad. Who did you know owns over 10 super cars that Y/N has brought for him, he was telling me all about his Ferrari" the mechanic starts to ramble before Lando gets him to stop.

"Take me to her, and I'll give her the pass" Lando had offered, wanting to meet you, it wasn't uncommon knowledge that he liked both you and Taylor Swift and had even DJed some of your 'nightcore' remixes.

"Okay! Okay come with me" the young mechanic said, darting of making Lando run after him asking him to slow down a little.

"Hello, this is a Mclaren Driver he's ..." the mechanic starts before you offer him a small small.

"I know who he is Dean, thank you for introducing us" you smile, and he grins at you. You and your father get handed the passes and your walking back to Mclaren at Lando's side.

He was attractive and most certainly your type. He had that goofiness about him that had you laughing for what felt like the first time in 3 years. Yet a seriousness and passion for his sport when talking to you and your dad about the car he was more than happy to show off to you.

"So you'll only be cheering for me right?" Lando flirts as your dad introduced himself to Daniel Ricciardo and Zac Brown.

"I think that depends Mr Norris, are you going to give me a cheer worthy race?" you question looking up him. His face lights up and a big grin comes onto his face.

"Always, you'll see the Papaya on a podium today I'm sure of it!" he offers and you smirk.

"You get that podium and I'll take you out afterwards"

"On like a date?" he asks a little cautious with his tone.

"Yes a date" you nod and his face lights up.

"Yeah alright, your on" he smirks, he turns away to get ready for his race, but turns back placing a cheeky kiss on your cheek making it your turn to blush.

True to his word, Lando came second on Sunday. You took him out on your guy's first date and the rest is history.

*Back to the podcast*

"Wow, that really is such a beautiful story. And from how you talk about him we can tell that you are really happy" he smiles genuinely.

"I don't think I've ever felt so secure with a person. I think it's safe to say I've found my person. I went through a lot with Y/E/B and Lando has helped me overcome a lot of the trauma from that relationship, and I cannot thank him enough for how patient, caring and loving he has been for the past year" you smile, before turning your gaze to the side to look at a teary Lando who had come to the podcast with you, you were scared and didn't want to go alone.

"Well I think it's safe to say we are all so happy you are back, thriving making music and doing what you do best!" he smiles.

After that your asked a few more questions which you happily talk through and answer, before it's wrapped up and time to leave.

"How was that baby?" he asks knowing this was your first media thing to help ease you back into that 'lime-light' life.

"It felt good to just vent, and talk about everything" you smiled at him. It was truly healing for your soul.

"I love you so much, and I'm so proud of you for today!" he grins at you, pulling you in for a kiss. He holds you close, while another hand travels up to caress the side of your face.

"I love you most, which is why I need you to help me announce the 2023 tour... and my new album!" you grin, and he grins back.

"What are they called?" he mumbles into your neck that he'd found retirement in.

"The Grid!" you grin, Lando didn't know but you planned your next tour for 2023 around the 2023 races.

"Hmmm and what does that entail" he smirks.

"Well, I'll get to come to every race weekend with you this year, my tour is roughly going to follow the races. I'll venture out as well when you have breaks and stuff but I don't want to be away from you for too long, and I want to get back on the scene. I'm ready!" you admit and he smiles at you softly before lifting you up into a huge bear hug.

"Did i mention how much I love you?" he asks.

"Every day Lan, every day" you smile at him, pulling him in for another bruising kiss.

It was safe to say, that even though you'd been treated like shit in the past, Lando Norris was the love of your life. Your soulmate that held the other end of the invisible string that had kept tugging you both closer together.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane

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milla-frenchy · 3 months ago

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Thank you @jolapeno for your 2024 tootathon ❤️ This is such a great idea 😍😍 (masterlist here), thanks @iknowisoundcrazy @iamasaddie @itwasntimethatdidit40 @sawymredfox @evolnoomym for tagging me😘🙏

One shots

Home | Acacius x reader

This is a love letter, I just love him. I knew I would, but I didn't know I'd love him that much

Hold my hand | Javi p x reader

This is my first soft!Javi fic. No angst, no darkness. I just wanted him to fall in love and be happy. Because I love him 😌

3 sides of a man | Javi p x reader

Pure self indulgent fic, honestly 😁

In the cold night | Jackson!Joel x reader

protective!joel is one of my favorites 😍

series/collections

5 days | Joel x reader

I didn't expect to love these two so much, to be honest. But it seems that they are in charge of their fics now, and I love them deeply

Smack my b*tch up | Joel x reader x Tommy x raiders

I never thought the first chapter would lead to an emotional torment. Mine 😂😭 But I'm proud of it

Mood boards

I love making them, and I wanted to share some of my fave:

npt: @aurorawritestoescape @toxicanonymity @thundermartini @joelmillerisapunk @mountainsandmayhem

@corazondebeskar-reads @metaphoricgibberish @604to647 @mermaidgirl30 @arcanefox207

@joelstummy @baronessvonglitter @pascalssbabyy @covetyou @ace-turned-confused

@magpiepills and whoever wants to ❤️

#jo: tootathon #joel miller #javier peña #marcus acacius #self recs #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #marcus acacius fanfiction #2024 recs

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cemeteryvalentine · 6 months ago

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astro observations part 4 !!! ^____^

(specifically based off my family :3 pleaseee don't get offended at anything that doesn't resonate)

🗝️: one thing about a sag placement, they are gonna hang up FIRST !!! i swear, if anyone misses flip phones, it's a sag placement/dominant. i just know they miss snapping that phone shut in a petty manner LOL. my mom is a sag moon AND rising, and she'd call me and demand me to do something in such a bitchy tone and then hang up on me like girl who tf do u think u areee 😭😭😭😭 LMFAO. but honestly good for her, i love being petty like her.

like i swear i take after my mom because everytime she does that annoying hang up before i can respond thing, i call her again just to say a snarky remark, and hang up on her back!

🐇: i swear, virgo placements have no problem being the grossest people alive, but suddenly it's a problem when someone else does it :/// it's really annoying. my brother has a pigsty of a bedroom, doesn't wash his hand when he pisses unless i make him, and leaves his trash everywhere, but constantly gets on my sister for the same things 😭. like the calls coming from inside the house !!! i think basically, (some) virgos are like picky(?) with what areas they'd want clean. like they're only really comfortable with THEIR mess and no one else's.

🗝️: i love how pisces mercury communicate because it's like what the hel are u awn about 😭 in the NICEST way though :3 they're so kewl and interesting to talk to, plus they're so nice and understanding. maybe because they're water mercuries after all. speaking of, my favorite artist ever kurt cobain was a pisces mercury and it SHOWSSS. a lot of nirvana lyrics feel artistic and metaphoric, or just realllyyyy silly. liiike "angel left wing, right wing, broken wing. lack of iron and or sleeping" from milk it, one of my nirvana faves. and "i vomit C*M and DIARRHEA". like girl whatever that means !!!! (song, mexican seafood)

🐇: mars influence on the asc makes for prominent features. especially eyebrows. my brother has an aries rising and he has such a bad case of RBF. i swear he never looks happy 😭 his virgo sun and cap moon definitely don't help at all either. then im a mars rising and i have big eyebrows like my brother. like we're the only ones with big eyebrows, while our parents brows look invisible LOL. also i'm a virgo rising !! and ppl are always saying i look mad which honestly pisses me off :P so in conclusion, mars influence + virgo placements = major rbf

🗝️: i HATE to add on to the cancer hate train since i'm one myself and i loveee being one + we get soo much hate, but i feel a (unevolvled) cancer makes for the worst pick me girl ever !!!! this def doesn't apply to all cancers, but the few cancer women i know can be so mean to other women so unprovoked. especially my mom, it gives me the ick when she calls random women b*tches or makes fun of them to me for their features or success or soemthing. i used to be a pick me too up until i was like 13 (im soooo happy i grew out of that mess QUICK!). i would constantly strive for male attention, it was embarrassing 😭. ik another girl who values her shitty boyfriend over her (girl) friends and i haaate it. like ive only known a few cancer women, but a lot of them are like the meanest pick me bitch ever, or such a sweeet, caring soul :). i feel like being a pick me stems from cancers being feminine AND traditional. yk? i pray i make sense, but yk how it's traditional for girls to be perfect for her man, and value him no matter the circumstance ?? and cancer/moon being **traditional** ? yeahhh 😭

anywayzzz that's all :3 tyyy for reading !! i had sm making a new observations, considering it's been a year since my last LMFAOO. and again, if it doesn't apply, let it fly. ty bye ^__^

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b00tyliciousbabe · 1 year ago

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gingerbread

himbo bf x male reader

summary: spending time with your boyfriend and his family for the holidays. some fluff, lil angst, bad jokes (i apologise in advance), and minimal smut of course.

notes: merry chrysler! hope y’all pretty people are doing amazing. notoriously indecisive in true bootylicious fashion, i settled on one of my fave typa men - gentle giant himbos. think danny wheeler from baby daddy. now, i would never call my men dumb, but always be saying real stupid things. there’s a specific kind of wonder that you can see in their eyes…i’m whipped.

disclaimer: i also tried to keep it as open to as many tastes as possible, so a lot of who he is, you can do create yourself. but i had to make him a bit of a redhead, they too fine.

y’all better gass me because the way i wrote this 3 hours before the end of xmas day, enjoy babies <3

saved in his phone as gingerbread - he’s a ginger, and you get bred xx

you always loved spending time with your boyfriend’s family, almost as much as they loved you. his mother was the first to catch Y/N fever, mostly because you reminded her of herself and it was a relief to know that someone could handle her son’s antics . then it was his brothers, they loved how mellow you made him, as if all of his struggles melted away when you waltzed into his life. they felt like your guardians, wanting to protect you because they knew how much you meant to their baby brother. and his sisters…they’re lowkey your best friends. when you first met, y’all got on so well with one another bonding over fashion, pop culture, and weirdly philosophy.

his dad liked you as a person, believing you were a kind soul, but not the person for his son, because of how different you two were. they were a quiet luxury kinda family, which didn’t necessarily coincide with how connected you were with celebrities. this was until he saw how well you worked together. whilst working on a huge project for the family business, your boyfriend was stressed in the office. you walked in, ready to go on a date after he’d finished. ‘hey baby, you look hot, where you going?’ he’d forgotten, but you never held it against him. you loved to see the cogs turn in his head as he came to a realisation. ‘shit. it’s date night.’ he groaned head in hands. ‘I’m so sorry Y/N, work’s just been so busy, the clients wanted to move the order forward, the contractors needed more data on the financial markets, and…’ you sat down on his desk, holding his chin so you guys exchanged eye contact. ‘babe, it’s all good, i know it’s a really busy time for you.’ you stroked his face reassuringly, a sigh of relief emitted from his lips. ‘i ain’t leaving your side, we’re in this together,’ you said as you went in for a kiss. it was deep and sensual, and if you didn’t stop when you did, you would’ve left that room walking side to side. ‘so, what can i help with?’ you responded, looking at the documents on the desk. he stared up lovingly, ‘i don’t deserve you,’ he admitted ‘too good to me.’ which garnered a little chuckle from you. his dad saw how supportive you were, pulling an all-nighter for the benefit of your man. you were so tired that the two of you spooned on the couch in his office, and slept there. early the next morning, the two of you were met with a breakfast course on the coffee table and your respective starbucks orders. you kissed your bf goodbye, so he could work, and just as you were about to leave, his father stopped you. ‘good morning Y/N, did you enjoy the food?’ he questioned as you entered the elevator together. ‘it was lovely sir, thank you.’ you replied hesitantly. ‘the only thanks due is to you, i appreciate how you’re always there for my son.’ you smiled inside, longing to prove yourself to him. ‘I love him sir, he needs to know that any problem he has, automatically becomes our problem to solve together.’ he knew at that moment, you were the perfect fit.

one of the core memories of your relationship was the weekend in the alps. your boyfriend thought this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to have some alone time with you before the new year. with award season coming up, many celebrities needed to be styled, you legit had no time to see him, it was going to be amazing. you stayed in the chalet his parents owned, but neither of you knew that it’d be an entire sibling getaway. the two of you snuggled under the blankets, drinking hot chocolate, whilst listening to some quiet smooth jazz in the background. revelling in how cozy and warm it was, he was dozing off whilst cuddling and you decided to follow suit, but not before a quick kiss on your bf’s nose - he’s so cute. unfortunately, like most precious things, this didn’t last long. there was a huge clatter at the door, awakening you two. ‘what the fuck are you guys doing here?’ your man blasted at them. ‘oh hey lil bro,’ one of them said as the others made themselves feel at home. ‘we heard you lovebirds were here and wanted to see Y/N again, we missed him.’ they all waved at you. you blushed and immediately got up greet them all with hugs and squeals. ‘omds, i haven’t see you guys in ages, we have so much to catch up on.’ you blurted out in an excited frenzy. your love, on the other hand, didn’t share the same energy. whilst you had walked to his sisters, his brothers playfully punched your bf to cheer up. ‘you idiots, have the worst timing, he said as they got ready to get some wood for the chimney.

it was just you and the girls, as you gossiped about the drama that went down during fashion week as they ate up every word. you mostly had done a lot of listening to their relationship dramas and work lives, as you shared a couple giggles. you has made gingerbread men, as his sisters watched the master at work. ‘Y/N, these are delicious, how are you so good at everything?’ they praised which made you blush. the boys had returned, with your man wincing with pain as his brothers carried him in. ‘the dummy tripped on the snow’ they said snickering as you walked to help him. ‘how many times have i told you to be careful out there?’ you said, concerningly staring at the bruise on his hip. you touched it gently earning a wince from him as he pushed away your hand. ‘sorry babe.’ he stared dead in your eye and looked away, giving you the silent treatment. ‘what do you need?’ he continued airing. ‘i’m gonna get some bandages’ you said, unsure of what you did to hurt him emotionally.

‘the fuck is wrong with you?’ his sisters protested, thumping his head. ‘ow! what do you mean?’ ‘that boy loves you, so much so that he puts up with all of your shit and stupidity.’ they come to your defence. he looks to his brothers for help, but to no avail. ‘dude, I’ll be real, you fucked up.’ one says. ‘he was just trying to help’ another adds. like the youngest, he continues to deflect ‘well, if you guys hadn’t come, i wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and me and Y/N would have been happier. he finally admitted. ‘oh damn.’ their faces became gentler as they circled in on him. ‘I just never get to see him now, with work and everything, and i don’t want him to get used to not seeing me’ he started to get teary but hid it behind a scowl. ‘bro, you are meant to be with Y/N, i see it in your eyes every time he walks into a room, like he’s the only one there.’ your bf smiles at the mere thought of your face. ‘see, he ain’t even here and you’re cheesing so bad rn.’ they all laugh. ‘i don’t know how to tell him, he’s so good at communicating his feelings, i just, i just can’t do it the way he does.’ his heart begins to beat faster. ‘that’s the thing though, he knows you better than you know yourself.’ the eldest brother says ‘there’s nothing that he won’t be able to understand because the two of are so connected.’

you enter with the bandages and medical supplies. ‘here’s a chance to fix that’ his twin sister says as they leave and move to the other side of the mansion, locking the door behind them as they wave you bye for now. you sit beside him on the sofa, placing a hot compress on his bruise. ‘Y/N, we need to talk.’ you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine by being stand-offish ‘speak then.’ you say glaring into his eyes that made you melt every time but now. ‘i am so sorry for my rude behaviour, i know you were just tryna help my stubborn ass.’ you continued tending to his wounds, with an apathy rivalled only by the unconditional love you have for him. ‘whatever.’ you muttered. ‘aw, come on baby, don’t be like that.’ he grimaced. ‘like what,’ your voice growing in confidence ‘like someone who, as hard as they try, can never get their boyfriend to fully open up?’ you admitted. ‘you know that’s not the whole story.’ he looks down. ‘mkay’ you say, tired of arguin, he just needed to cool off. he takes a deep breath. ‘Y/N, you know i love you more than anything ’ your boyfriend boldly states, deepening your eye contact. ‘and you know i love you the same, but sometimes love is not enough,’ you struggle to get the words out, getting choked up as you hold his cheek for stability. he turns to kiss you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he caresses your thigh, as your tongues dance for dominance in the warmth of your mouth. you pulled back. ‘here goes nothing, babe, I’m afraid, afraid of losing you.’ he admitted desperately. ‘we barely ever see each other and I’m scared that it has, um, like, maybe, um’ he failed to articulate his thoughts, angering him further. ‘calm down love, i hear what you’re saying. you’re worried about the possibility of us being comfortable with rarely seeing one another and what that means for us.’ you always knew how to soothe his heart. ‘exactly, you’re just so good at letting me know what we need to do to make this relationship work that I’m clueless at asking for help.’ he smiled earning a chuckle from you. ‘we’re in this together boo, you won’t ever lose me.’ as he sneers into another smooch. ‘fuck.’ he moaned into your mouth as a tent forms in his boxers. ‘your voice always gets me going.’ you looked down and immediately dropped to your knees.

you hadn’t sucked your boyfriend’s cock in what seemed like forever. you pulled his boxers to his ankles as his thick cock sprung up, throbbing in the cool air of the room. you grabbed his pole, gaslighting him into thinking you were going to start at the tip. instead you began to massage his beefy, low-hanging balls in your mouth. ‘Y/N, fuck, that’s where the spunk is stored, not where you drink it from’ he snickered, removing them from your mouth. ‘you’ve got to st-UGHHHH’ you deepthroated with ease, loving how his dumb, naive nature was still translated to your time in the sheets. ‘that’s it baby, good boy’ he praises, looking at the slobber that made his dick glisten. ‘shit.’ he cums without warning, giving you an impromptu facial. ‘sorry darling, i came as soon as i saw you slap my dick on your thick lips.’ your boyfriend helped you to clean up, pushing his hand all over your face and fingering your mouth with his nut.

you moved to undressing, as you straddled your man. ‘i know you wanna pound me into tomorrow, but you can’t,’ gesturing to his bruise. he whined and cooed. ‘however…’ you whispered into his ear, jerking him of with a mix of his cum and your spit ‘imma help my man out tonight.’ as you sank onto his schlong with ease. his hands immediately grabbed your globes, as he licked his lips salaciousy, enjoying your physique. ‘so fucking hot.’ your bf mumbled. you started bouncing on his cock as he slowly rutted in you from beneath, your hole was already sore.

it was gonna be a long night…

@gayaristocrat imma save your fantasy for dacre, that man is 90s fine fr

#gay #smut #bottom male reader #male x male #mlm #male reader #christmas fanfic #male x male fluff #male x male angst

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stopisa · 5 months ago

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aki hayakawa nšfw alphabet

a/n: omg hello everyone, it’s been a minute. i am back in school yet again so my schedule is a little funky but i hope to be able to create more! also i tried to keep this as gn as possible so lmk if i didn’t! this is for my aki enjoyers <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

whether you're a one-night stand or a long-term partner, aki rolls it out with the aftercare. of course, it'll differ depending on what you mean to him but he's going to do the bare minimum and some. always cleans you up with a towel, offers you something to drink, and asks how you felt. after the small talk, he might excuse himself to go smoke outside on his balcony, if you're close he will invite you to accompany him, if you're not then he won't say anything

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

aki never really liked anything about himself but he has learned to appreciate his hands, and it's largely unrelated to his job. he takes good care of himself and practices good hygiene so his hands look impeccable. he also likes the way they look when holding your waist, hands, wrists, and neck too :)

his partner's mouth is his favorite. he loves to see the way your mouth curls into a smile when you see him or the way his name sounds and the way it rolls off your tongue. he'll just find himself staring at your mouth while you talk, grateful that he gets to kiss it every day and night. and the way your mouth wraps around his cock is even better

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

which leads me to my next point so he loves cumming in your mouth!! it's easy to clean since you can swallow or spit it into a trash bin but there are a few times where he loves to bask in the moment of seeing the viscous fluid drip down your mouth. he'll sometimes run his thumb over your lip to coax your mouth open to push on down your tongue to watch it drip and make a mess on your chest ówò im gross

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he totally reads romance novels and their sub-genres (romantasy, dark romance etc.). and honestly, he gets off to them as well since sometimes they’re written better than any of the other pornography he’s consumed which isn’t much if we’re being honest

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

im gonna say he’s has about 5 bodies under his belt, 2 of which were past relationships and 3 of them being a one night stands. that being said, he does know what he’s doing. he pays attention to details and he knows that every person is different when it comes to their needs.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doesn’t really have fave, as long as you get off then he gets off. buuuuuut if ya’ll on the bed, he’ll pull you to the edge of it, wrapping your legs around his waist. he wants to see your face and stick he thumb in your mouth while he’s at it

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

can’t see him being goofy, sex is either necessity or intimacy so he’ll treat it seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

like i said earlier, he has good hygiene so grooming is just part of his daily/weekly routine. his body hair is whispy and thin, pretty nonexistent. it’s the same color as his head hair, slightly darker and coarser. but again he keeps it trimmed to clean shaven :o

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very romantic with his partner, will invite you over, clean the whole apartment, present a home cooked meal, leave small touches on your arms or thigh while exchanging small talk on the couch and then when he takes it to the bedroom it’s still the same romantic aki. communicating what you want, if you’re okay, talking you through your orgasm. it’s wonderful really

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he’s a man, but will limit it to about 2-3 times a week if he’s single. if he has a partner rarely does he ever unless you’re away for a long time. he likes to watch twt porn, he just likes the amateur filming and the realness of it all. no acting, no special lighting. just sex as it is. or he whips out the filthy romance novel ;)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

idgaf he has a praise kink. tell him he’s a “good boy” and let him know how he feels. he also loves giving praise “yeah sweetheart, that’s right. you’re doing so good for me.”

he also likes light bondage, it’s not the grand thing but if you whip out some handcuffs or some rope he’ll melt. there’s also def been a time where he’s removed his tie, told you to get on the bed and tied your wrists together with it, no doubt this has happened c:

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

home. that doesn’t necessarily mean just the bedroom. he’s not a huge risk taker and he’s a relatively reserved person so he does believe sex should be a private thing in a private place. but any surface at home is fair game. his bed? of course. in the shower? yes please. kitchen counter? he’s getting dinner and a show.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it’s gonna sound basic buts he’s such a slut for domestic shit. when his stress level is down is when he is the most horny and that’s being at home. you two could be cleaning, him vacuuming and you hanging up laundry and bro is bricked up and ready to go.

words of affirmation from his partner make him swoon. you could be congratulating on a achievement, “wow aki, i’m so proud of you! you’re incredible!” and all of a sudden, he’s pitching a tent

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that means physically hurting someone. the toughest he’ll get is bondage and that’s it. if he sees that he’s hurting you then he’s done. if you ask him to hurt he’ll also politely turn it down because no. also anything that super messy (food play, watersports, etc.) he doesn’t want to have to think about extra clean up after busting a nut.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

both bothboth omfg pls?? oral fixation??? um yes. giving you head is a must in foreplay before anything else happens. and he doesn’t just use his tongue but his hands as well, running them up and down your body. from your chest, down to your waist and hips, finally gripping your thighs to hold you in place.

and he is just as grateful when he’s receiving head. if you have long hair, he will hold it up for you and stroke your cheek and jaw with his other hand as you guide your mouth up and down his cock. he’s in genuine bliss <3

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

because he’s always feeling romantical let him take his time with slow thrusts. if you want him to go faster, he’ll listen but his default is slow and deep. he wants to make the euphoria last for himself and for his partner.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

nah, quickie usually means he very little time and he’ll be damned if he’s rushing somewhere or shows up late. he has to maintain his cool as a cucumber personality, duh. dude likes to take his time, it’s way better that way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

aside from his strict “no’s” he’s open to see what makes you feel good and even explore for himself.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

not long! sorry guys, he’s a single mom with 2 kids, they wear him tf out. this is why he likes to take his time with foreplay and going slow with his thrusts. after one round he usually is sweaty, feels gross and needs a nicotine break. but if you’re still not satisfied u can fuck yourself on his fingers if you’d like after he smokes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

and yes, because he can’t go multiple rounds toys can help with that. if it’s not his fingers you want then he can pull out your favorite vibrator-dildo and use it one you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

sometimes! if you’ve been annoying him or you’re having some post-fight make-up sex he’ll tease you. “hah, m’gonna fuck you the way i wanna fuck you, but if you beg enough maybe i’ll change my mind.” aside from that he’s very fair and will always make sure you’re satisfied.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

medium volume, he goes from heavy breathing through his nose to audible moans and huffs through his mouth as he gets get close. is the type to moan into ur neck whilst kissing it :>

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he has to travel often due to his job which means time apart from you :( but modern technology solves that with phone sex! he was feeling lonely and a buy aroused one night while away from home and you suggested it. at first he was apprehensive but he LOVED it after the first time. hearing your breathy moans over the phone kept him going until his assignment ended and he was able to deliver all the things he promised over the phone

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

aki lowkey packing some schmeat >:) 7 inches with just the right amount of girth. curve straight up for sure a grower not a shower. balls are average hehe 8==D

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

when it’s right after a period of time (2+ weeks) of stress and no sex, that is when is the horniest and pretty much wanting to have sex every night for a week to make up for all the lost time. outside of that exception he has a healthy sex drive

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

with his partner, he will fall asleep pretty quickly after sex + smoke break + aftercare routine. he has to trust the person and feel comfortable around them if he’s the one falling asleep first. if it’s a one night stand he will have a hard time falling asleep and probably order the person cab after all is taken care of so he can relax.

networks: @houseofsolisoccasum @interstellar-inn

divider by: @/cafekitsune

#🖋.writing #chainsaw man #csm #csm x reader #aki hayakawa #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #n*sfw #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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grace-williams-xo · 10 months ago

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RAMBLING THOUGHTS AFTER FINISHING PART TWO. GONNA ADDRESS MY P1 THOUGHTS FIRST. SPOILER WARNING.

1 & 2: I think Debling could’ve worked in the second half, and I’m kinda sad Cressida didn’t get a happy ending. The Creloise fell of a CLIFF after ep 5 but I think it could still be saved

5: no cishet man has ever loved his wife more than Anthony Bridgerton I’m gonna be ill

6 & 12: kanthony’s absence was felt BAD in the finale, I think their reactions to LW were sorely needed. Also Jonny and Simone have both said they’ll be at every sibling’s wedding and stick around for years but they missed Francesca’s??? Also felt their absence too much then. They’re both booked and busy I think we’ll continue to only get a couple episodes a season from them

8: Francesca did get to thrive happy in pt 2 my baby I love her

9: I think they managed to disconnect the mondrich plot even further like 😭 once again, I don’t mind them their plot just feels very empty

10: Pen and Delacroix CONTINUE to be my fave duo I love them so freaking much and they can never get rid of it

13: Portia’s growth this season continued to be 10/10 I loved her and Penelope’s relationship it really showed what it’s like to be closely related to people you oppose and the process of needing to forgive and understand them for your own peace of mind

14: that was not how I was expecting Colin to find out about Whistledown

15: Marcus felt a little rushed in part two but I think I need to watch the whole season together to fully decide

17: this was indeed the longest 27 days of my life I got Covid day after it dropped lmfao

MY ~NEW~ THOUGHTS:

We finally got character development from Cressida and if they write her out I’ll be inconsolable (as will Jessica Madsen)

I hope they paid Golda Rosheuvel good for her feet exposure. Worth more than titties in this economy

I feel the need to tell everyone that £5000 in 1815 is in the realm of £500,000 today and we cannot brush over the fact Penelope has made herself the equivalent of a literal millionaire

Anthony has two moods ‘I’m obsessed with my wife’ ‘I want to win this game’ like it is comical how drastically different his facial expression is in the game of charades compared to pretty much every other scene

Anthony saying the marriage is perfect and not hard work and Kate being like BOY I will humble you,,,, doing the lord’s work I love her so much

At some points I felt like Francesca was fighting Anthony for ‘Violet’s least favourite child’ award lmao

John saying he’s off to look at the wainscotting was unfairly funny

Cressida in the red dress is even better than I imagined fuck even if she’s not gay then I am

Peneloise back together the universe is healing I love my babies all we need now is creloise lovers and peneloise friendship simultaneously I don’t like it being one or the other sue me

However much Brimsley is getting paid isn’t enough,,,, Hugh Sachs the man that you are

I adored Penelope’s wedding dress so much and as bitter as I am still about no kanthony wedding in s2, it felt kind of right somehow for Polin to be the first wedding we properly see in this show

Most of the costumes and makeup feel like they got worse,,,,, big ‘I hired a 14 year old’ energy. I don’t need historical accuracy but I would like a modicum of care and the costume/hair/makeup dept looking at a single historical reference from before 1850,,,, please

We all got the bi Benedict we’ve been asking for and I appreciate it, and recognise that he needed Tilley to explore that, but I still would’ve preferred if they first main queer experience was not a threesome

If they go straight into benophie in s4 (which idk, I’m so torn bc I feel like F, E and B all could work well next season) then I also feel like bi Benedict was just them throwing a bone for 5 mins but meant nothing

The CONTENTIOUS Michaela Stirling,,,,, I was undecided until I saw it but that was the definition of gay panic from Francesca and it worked so well I am so excited.

As your resident peerage expert, it is much easier for women to inherit titles in Scotland than England so I wonder (not that anyone on this show knows anything) if that was a reason they chose Francesca to be sapphic [general peerage info and female inheritance info if you care]

On the above, if they can canonically end racism with one marriage then they can end homophobia with one marriage as well

We all know Eloise was the easy and obvious choice to be the queer love story but part of me does kind of like them not taking the easy route, and them going something more unexpected, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want Creloise/Sapphic El like they had eight children let’s be honest

Finch’s sneeze and Phillips’s “now Varely! The bugs!” were unfairly funny

Everything Lady Danbury said to Penelope about suspecting her and what not felt very in character and you can fight with the wall idc

Did they tell us the name of Polin’s baby boy???

Hyacinth saying she thinks of Gregory as the family pet,,,,, girl you an icon walking amongst mere mortals

Predictions I got right:

Anthony didn’t kill Colin, but “are you gonna duel your own brother” lmao I was on the right track

I knew Polin would win the Featherington baby race and I love that for them (but why were Prudence and Phillipa pregnant most of the season, barely showing, Kate was showing almost immediately, and then in the epilogue the sisters all had baby’s similar-ish ages???? Give the writers room a calendar please)

I SAID FROM DAY DOT THAT THE FURNITURE THEY BROKE FROM SEX WAS A CHAISE I CANT FIND THE POST BUT I KNEW IT I FUCKING KNEW IT WHERE DO I COLLECT MY PRIZE SOME OF YOUR GUESSES WERE TRULY FUCKING COOKED

Okay that was too long if you made it this far I’ll make you cookie ily

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bloodbeatssoalive · 10 months ago

Text

NSFW ALPHABET - VESSEL 💘

HI OKAY SO!!!! let it be known that i do not and cannot write to save my life but the horny parasites within me simply demanded this of me so i had to listen to them

fair warning — i am absolutely feral over this man!!! vessel in my head is GROSS and KINKY so don’t say u haven’t been warned!!! (saying that i am feral for this man is the understatement of the century actually but i just don’t have a better word!)

very nsfw thoughts under the cut 🫡

————————————————————

❥ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

• vessel would be so fucking soft with you after sex i just know it.

• extremely cuddly, pulls you close to him, hands running over your body, stroking your hair, giving you soft little pecks all over your face.

• if you’d had a particularly intense scene he would absolutely check in with you afterwards, seeing what you liked, if there was anything you didn’t like. your favourite parts (he would absolutely tuck this knowledge away for later to drive you crazy in the future).

• would be more than willing to get you anything you needed after so you didn’t need to move a muscle. would wrap you in a soft blankie, get you water/snacks, would hold you and hum sweet tunes to lull you to sleep.

• would be absolutely BURSTING with praise for you afterward (also during and just like, always, but we aren’t talking about that right now!!). “you did so good for me, baby. i’m so proud of you.” “such a good girl for me.” “you took me so well, darling.”

❥ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

• his favourite of his own? has to be his toned chest and stomach (we’ve all seen the way this fucker shows it off — there’s no way it’s not his fave).

• fucking loves when you run your hands all over his torso, will absolutely walk around shirtless and smirk when he catches you ogling him.

• his favourite of yours? your lips/mouth, without a doubt. no one will ever convince me ves does not have an oral fixation.

• is obsessed with kissing you, feeling how soft your lips are against his.

• loves the way your lips feel on his skin as you kiss all over his body.

• just about cums in his pants when you put his fingers in your mouth and suck on them.

• swears when you suck his cock that he’s died and gone to heaven, can’t stop staring at his cock disappearing past your lips, will burn the sight and feeling into his memory for the rest of eternity.

• has to stop himself from pouncing on you when you do something as simple as pouting at him when you don’t get your way, or giving him a particularly sweet smile.

❥ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

• this man cannot get enough of his cum all over/in you i just fucking KNOW it.

• not a wasted drop of cum with this man!! ALWAYS in or on you in some way.

• thinks you look so fucking pretty when he paints your face with his cum, and tells you as much every single time. always wants to take pics of it that he can look at when you’re apart.

• sometimes will use his fingers to scoop up the cum he’s painted your face with, just to feed it to you to make sure it’s not being wasted (i told u he’s gross ok!!!)

• is also OBSESSED with cumming inside you, no matter which hole he’s cumming in. loves feeling his cock twitch and pulse while he’s deep in you.

• absolutely DOES have a breeding kink so his ultimate fave is definitely cumming deep in your pussy. nothing makes him feel closer to you than this.

❥ D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

• listen. two words. panty! sniffer!!!

• will pocket your soaked panties and take them on tour with him so he can still smell your pussy when he’s not with you.

• embarrassed as hell when you find out. turned on as HELL when he realises you’re just as gross as he is, intentionally leaving your panties around the house, giving him a little wink if he notices.

• just about loses his fucking mind when you mail him a pair while he’s on tour.

• also a lingerie lover!!! loves to see you dressed up all pretty for him.

• makes him absolutely FERAL!!!! apologises profusely after ripping every piece of lingerie you ever wear in front of him right off of you (but you lowkey love it and start dressing up more and more just because of the reaction you get from him).

❥ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

• oh vessel ABSOLUTELY knows what he’s doing. expert with his fingers, expert with his tongue, expert with his cock.

• regardless of how many people he’s actually slept with, he’s done his research. knows how to do things and knows how to do them properly and safely.

• also experienced with bdsm. knows how to dom the FUCK out of you and will enjoy every second of it.

❥ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

• some ppl will say this is cliche but — missionary king!!!!!

• loves it so he can look into your eyes & make you look into his.

• means he can watch your pretty mouth and listen up close to all the noises that come out of it as you unravel.

• means he can kiss you as much as he wants!!! can and WILL kiss/lick/bite anywhere he can reach: your lips, all over your face, your neck, all over your chest.

• means he’s in a perfect spot to whisper absolute filth into your ear as you whimper beneath him.

• he loves that missionary means you can also kiss all over his neck and chest, that your whimpers and moans go straight to his ears, lowkey loves when your nails dig into his back hard enough to leave a mark.

❥ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

• i think it depends on the scenario and the moment, but most of the time hes gonna be very serious about giving you pleasure and seeking out pleasure himself.

• takes making you cum/teasing you incredibly seriously.

• if y’all are in a more lighthearted moment, he’s absolutely not above having a little laugh or a joke with you while in the midst of it.

❥ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

• very well maintained — trimmed short. nothing exciting! wants to make sure you don’t have a face full of bush when he fucks your face.

❥ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

• the MOST intimate man you will ever meet.

• inside and outside of the bedroom, incredibly touchy feely. always wants to be touching you. holding your hand, a hand on your thigh, your thigh against his if you’re sat next to each other. he just wants to feel you physically close to him (you can’t convince me his love language is not physical touch i will never believe u!!!)

• absolute hopeless romantic at heart!!! will send you flowers while he’s away on tours. hand writes and mails you love letters. writes you poetry. writes you songs!!!! will do anything and everything to let you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

❥ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

• if he’s with you: why would he ever need to masturbate when he’s got three perfectly good holes right there with him?!

• only time he’ll jack off when he’s with you is to tease the fuck out of you. he’ll have you restrained and be stood right in front of you, out of your reach, making you whine and beg for his cock in your pretty mouth.

• if he’s on tour: this man is so horny, there’s no way he’s not getting off while he’s away from you. forever wishing he was deep inside you, but he’ll settle for getting off to your pics and videos.

• begs you to send him voice messages and videos of you masturbating and moaning so he can cum to the sound of you.

• absolutely sends you filthy voice messages and pics and videos in return.

• will sniff the aforementioned panties so he can smell you, look at you, hear you, while he cums thinking about you. wants all his senses to just be you, you, you.

❥ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

• KINKY MOTHERFUCKER, just try to fight me on this!!!!

• dominant as FUCK. loves the thrill of you being completely under his control. loves that you trust him enough to submit fully to him. makes him feel so close and intimate with you in a whole new way. mostly a bit of a soft dom, but if the mood strikes, he can definitely be a bit of a mean dom too (and yeah, maybe sometimes you’re a bit bratty just to bring out his mean side. you can’t help that he’s so hot when he’s like that!!)

• dirty talk KING! this motherfucker will NOT shut the fuck up in the bedroom. he doesn’t even do it on purpose, it’s just like a stream of consciousness. spilling out all his filthy thoughts and desires. can and WILL also whisper these thoughts in your ear in public just to get you all flustered.

• ownership kink. has multiple collars for you, some with his name, some with his favourite pet names for you. some with a matching leash, some just for the bedroom that look more obviously like collars, cute ones that look more like necklaces with his initials on them so that you can wear them in public and still feel and know that you’re owned. will remind you VERY regularly that “you. are. MINE.”

• along with this, vessel is also lowkey (highkey!!!) possessive as fuck. if he sees someone else getting physically close to you or flirting with you? you better be prepared for the angry “you’re fucking MINE, you belong to me” rough and nasty kind of sex. forever leaving marks anywhere and everywhere on you. hickeys, bite marks, bruises, anything to let everyone else know that you’re spoken for.

• breeding kink!!! forever wanting to fuck his cum as deep into your pussy as he can.

• oral fixation: this goes both ways. he wants your mouth everywhere on him and his mouth everywhere on you. wants his fingers in your mouth, his cock in your mouth. fucking LOVES the way your eyes glaze over as he fucks your face. could spend hours between your legs getting lost in the way you taste.

• primal!! this is a man that would chase you through the woods just to fuck you on the forest floor once he caught you. thinks it’s fucking HOT to think of himself as the predator hunting you, and you his prey — to do as he wishes with once he has you in his grasp.

• you cannot convince me this man isn’t at least a little bit of a sadist and masochist — “let me wrap the chains, addicted to the pain.” “manifest pain at the core of pleasure.” — you get the idea, yeah? i think homeboy is into some pain, both giving and receiving. nothing too crazy but i just know i’m right on this!!!!

• bondage — loves having you restrained and helpless beneath him.

• edging/orgasm denial. like i said earlier.. very possessive man w an ownership kink!!! you belong to him. you’re HIS. that includes your orgasms. he won’t let you cum without his permission, and will rarely let you cum if you’re apart while he’s on tour. will get you on the phone with him, touching yourself and bringing yourself to the edge just so he can hear the sweet noises you make, but will tell you he doesn’t want you to cum unless it’s around his cock/fingers/tongue. when you’re together? will edge you until you’re begging, pleading, crying for release. then he’ll make you cum over and over and over and overrrrr again until you’re begging, pleading, crying for him to stop (and you fucking love him for it all).

(i truly could probably continue this list as its own post for all the boys lmao)

❥ L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

• listen. this fucker is chronically horny and will happily take you anywhere and everywhere you will let him. he can barely keep his hands off you!!! he’s taken you in countless green rooms and random rooms backstage at shows, if you’re snuggled under the same blankie watching a movie with the boys, he is absolutely teasing and touching you. getting you all worked up while you try to stay quiet. just so obsessed with you he wants to be touching you all the fucking time. big fan of teasing you in public!!

❥ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

• as previously mentioned, lingerie lover!!! seeing his love all dressed up for him like the absolute GIFT they are will instantly get him rock hard!

• i just fucking KNOW my man is a sucker for neck kisses. you kiss his neck? you better be ready to get absolutely RAVISHED by him.

• he really just loves the way you look when you’re all fucked out. the thought of that alone is enough to motivate him.

❥ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

• he won’t let anyone else cum inside your pussy. that’s for him and him only!!!

• won’t let you not have a safeword. even if you say you won’t need it, absolutely insists on it!!! will put the brakes on absolutely everything if u don’t respond properly when he checks in mid scene.

❥ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

• once again this man has an oral fixation so he is OBSESSED w this both ways! both giving and receiving.

• giving: man will eat you like you’re his last fucking meal. gets absolutely lost in the way you taste, the way you smell, the sounds you make.

• gets off on it so much that if you could focus for like 2 seconds you’d see him rutting and grinding until his pre-cum has leaked a wet spot onto the bed.

• would happily stay between your legs for as long as you’ll let him (and will sometimes insist on staying even longer).

• loves when you lose control of your own body and clamp your thighs together around his head.

• i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, he’s GROSS so he really just wants to try and make you squirt all over his fucking face. just once!!!

• receiving: fucking loves loves LOVESSSSSS having his cock sucked. will lose his mind over a messy blowjob.

• adores when you take your time to really worship his cock, makes him feel so fucking good and like he’s the only thing that matters in the world…

• but there’s only so long he can handle things being slow and leaving you in control of the pace of things. can and WILL end up fucking your face and throat without fail every single time.

• the noise he makes the first time his cock hits the back of your throat and you take him even further, deepthroating him? absolutely fucking SINFUL.

• ever since, he’s been obsessed with the feeling of his cock deep in your throat and loves throatfucking you until you’re a gagging, drooling mess for him.

• is absolutely the type to pull you straight back up to him after sucking his cock to give you the most violently passionate open mouthed tongue kisses.

❥ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

• he can be either — totally dependant on the vibe/day/his mood/your mood, etc!

• if he’s mad or needs to get out a lot of pent up energy, it’ll be fast and hard and maybe he’ll be a lil mean (all consensually obviously, as w everything else i’ve mentioned in this post).

• if he’s feeling soft and lovey dovey, it’ll be slow and so so fucking passionate, but it doesn’t mean that it won’t also be a little rough sometimes.

• no matter the actual pace, he would always find a way to make it feel sensual as fuck.

❥ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

• maybe a controversial opinion based on what i’ve seen on these nsfw alphabet tumblr posts from others but i think he fucking LOVES a quickie!

• this man is chronically horny and is fucking OBSESSED with you. if you think he’s not pulling you into a green room to make out with you and then fuck you stupid just before or after a show, you’re soooo wrong!!!

• that being said, he fucking LOVES taking his time with you, letting the rest of the world melt away until there’s nothing but your bodies tangled together.

❥ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

• soooo down to experiment!! like i said before he is GROSS. u never know when you’re gonna unlock a new kink!!!

• will absolutely mess around and fuck you in risky places where there’s a chance you could get caught, but he lowkey loves the thrill! (and loves getting to clamp his big hand over your mouth or make you suck on his fingers to stay quiet).

❥ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

• have you seen the way he fuckin moves around like a gremlin at rituals???? man could literally last all night!!!!

• lasts a fairly decent while each time (he’s well practiced!!), but after he cums, he will absolutely continue messing around and keeping you all hot and bothered for him until he’s ready for another round.

• multiple rounds, all night long, i said what i said!! this man cannot get enough of you ever.

❥ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

• he definitely owns handcuffs and ropes and other things to help restrain you.

• blindfolds, gags, y’know — the fun things to heighten any experience you might have together.

• don’t think he himself owns a lot of toys unless they’re ones he’s bought specifically to use on/with you.

• but be will happily make use of any toys you might have, especially if he knows they drive you crazy.

• will MORE than happily use a vibrator to edge you over and over and over and over until you’re drooling from both ends.

❥ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

• patron saint of teasing!!!! you will never find another man that will tease you more.

• edging and orgasm denial is like the fucking teasing olympics and he is absolutely going for the gold.

• will whisper absolute filth in your ear when you’re in public.

• will touch and tease you when and where possible in public.

• just thinks you sound so fucking pretty when you beg for him.. so he wants to make you do it ALL the fucking time.

• just wants to keep you turned on, worked up, and needy for him 24/7!!!!

❥ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

• as previously mentioned this motherfucker will not shut the fuck up EVER in the bedroom!!!!

• will absolutely NOT hold back any moans, growls, whimpers, etc.

• will especially not hold back any sounds because he fucking knows how much they turn you on to hear how good you’re making him feel.

❥ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

• will share you but only with the boys!! they are the exception to his rules.

• he will still absolutely be possessive as fuck about you when you’re with them tho don’t get it twisted!!

• while one of the other boys is balls deep in you he’ll still be whispering about how “even though i’m letting someone else fuck you, that pussy still belongs to ME,” or how “you’re making such pretty noises for him, baby. but he doesn’t fuck you like i do, does he? nobody else fucks you like i do. that’s why you’re all MINE.”

• if he sees one of the other boys has left any marks on you? FERAL!!!! sedate this man!!!! he will mark you the fuck UP!! will leave a bigger, more impressive mark right over the one that was left by one of the other boys as if to claim you.

• highkey loves watching you with the other boys though, turns him on so much and makes him swell with pride at how well you take them and how fucking good you make them feel.

❥ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

• we already been knew this man has a MASSIVE cock. it’s not a secret with the way he jumps around on stage in those pants!!!

• a few hidden scars.

• one or two small tattoos that are easy to keep out of sight in his stage fit.

❥ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

• INSATIABLE!! if you haven’t already got the message, this man is almost ALWAYS horny!!!

• highest sex drive you’ve ever seen on anyone.

• will finish, be cuddling with you, and you’ll feel him getting hard again within minutes because of the way you’re pressed up against him or because he’s thinking about how good you took him or how good you looked while you were cumming around his cock, etc. etc.

❥ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

• depends on the day/mood/etc!

• will stay up with you all night if you want.

• always always ALWAYS makes sure you’re okay/taken care of before sleep ever crosses his mind.

• will happily tangle your limbs together under the covers and fall asleep with you after if you’re sleepy!

• lowkey think he would enjoy watching you fall asleep feeling safe in his arms so maybe he waits up, trailing his arm up and down your back, playing with your hair, soothing you to sleep, just so he can stare at your pretty peaceful sleeping face for a little before dozing off himself.

———————————————————

once again i cannot and do not ever write but the brainrot has become too much and i simply had to get this out!!!! i’m only even posting it so like 2 specific people can read it lol SORRY I MADE VESSEL GROSS BUT ALSO !!!! tell me i’m wrong (u can’t i won’t believe u!)

#sleep token smut #vessel smut #vesselposting #vessel x reader #vessel x you #vessel #idk how this post got so long ok i just have a LOT of filthy thoughts about this man

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