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sexy-monster-fucker · 14 days ago

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No One Has to Know What We Do

Jealous!John Walker x Thunderbolts*!Reader

Summary: Valentina forces the Team to attend a Charity Gala. Tensions are high, especially when you sharing a dance with Congressman Barnes is the talk of the gala. And John has to pretend he is unbothered.

CW: Thunderbolts* spoilers, hidden feelings, mutual pining, reader was involved in the End Game battle/is a former Avenger, Reader is a bit of a tech geek, typical Bucky vs John dynamic, Valentina being a shit (I hate and love her), media coverage, paparazzi being creeps, typical MCU violence, kinda love triangle I guess(?), mild degradation, makeout, fluff, spanking, oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie

a/n: okay I got mouthy with this, but I don't know the last time I dedicated this much time to a single fanfic. I really enjoyed laying out such a detailed story so I hope you enjoy!!! <3

word count: 14.8 k

title track 🎶🥂

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“I have to wear… this?”

Your hands hovered around your torso. Low-cut dress hugging every curve of your body. Flattering. This just was not something you were used to. Tactical gear was usually all you wore. Unable to remember the last time you were this dressed up. Probably Tony’s funeral.

“Don’t be picky. It’s custom tailored for you,” Valentina shrugged with a smile.

No doubting that. The way it perfectly cupped your breasts and ass told you that. Never would some random dress off a rack fit you so well. Unsure how to feel. It was stunning, far more expensive than anything you had ever owned. But you could not help but think of the practicality of it. Skin tight dresses did not give you optimal movement. Especially with the heels Valentina just insisted you wear.

“What if something happens?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Valentina sighed, turning to look at you. Head falling softly to the side, snickering, “Other than you having to fight off some bachelors tonight.”

You rolled your eyes hard. Hating Valentina’s obsession with your personal life and relationships. She knew that any press was good press, so of course it excited her to think of the possible headlines that would be plastered everywhere by tomorrow morning. ‘New Avenger spotted leaving party with Congressman!’ It made her heart beat faster. Thinking of all the coverage it would bring for the Team.

“Val,” you chastised. Arms folding over your chest as your brows furrowed. You were no stranger to her games. Setting you all up to have to swat away paparazzi for the next month over this Gala. A charity event for people who lost everything during the blip. A fundraiser that had started off small by a lady in Queens. Blossoming into something bigger with the sponsorship of Happy Hogan. All in honor of the late woman.

“Come on. You’re young. Hot. And single. You really think the boys won’t be dripping off you tonight,” Valentina shimmied her shoulders with her words.

You sighed loudly. Staring yourself down in the mirror. Shifting side to side to get a better look at the fabric of your dress. Valentina really thought she knew it all. While she was mostly correct, you made sure to keep certain personal aspects of your life hidden. Especially from her.

Like your harboring crush on one of your teammates. Super soldier. Gruff. Recently divorced. Cocksure attitude a turn off to most, but not you.

John Walker. Former Captain America. Even if it was only for a few weeks. And he made sure none of you forgot that he was Captain America. Chosen to be. Government’s number one pick. High school football champion. War veteran.

All the things he considered achievements.

Smug attitude was pretty on him. The way his eyes would light up when he made a smart comeback. The soft tug of a smirk on his lips whenever he would watch whoever he taunted get angry.

You liked him this way.

As much as you hated being this dressed up, the idea of the look on John’s face when he saw you made your stomach flutter. His eyebrows would bounce and his lips would softly part, displaying his bottom teeth. Eyes raking down your body, definitely lingering on your chest. And it would make you blush. Probably would not even be able to make complete sentences.

“Hurry up and get your shoes on. Limou will be here in ten,” Valentina stared down at her phone as she snapped her fingers. Exiting your room. Airlocks of your door shutting back. A soft hiss the only sound in the room. You sat on the edge of your bed and closed the straps of your heels. Not accustomed to wearing shoes such as these. Wobbling on your legs like a newborn deer. Strutting across your room until you got the hang of it. Large hooped earrings jingling in your ears. Necklace laying across your collar. Stopping in front of your vanity, leaning over it to look closely at your makeup. A full face. Grand departure compared to the usual mascara and lip balm you wore. False lashes and thick eyeshadow. A matte lipstick accented with a matching gloss. Highlight and contour accented your face. You bared your teeth, seeing the splotch of lipstick on them. Rubbing your finger across your teeth with a little squeak trying to get it off.

Firm knocking on your door made you jump. Thinking maybe time had slipped away from you. “Coming,” you called out to whoever it could be. Flattening your hands on your dress and walking over to the door. Ghosting your hand in front of the reader so that it would open. Expecting Yelena or the return of Valentina. Coming to tell you to hurry along. But instead you were greeted by a taller figure.

Broad chest. Navy blue suit adorning his body. Perfectly accenting his piercing blue eyes. Solid black undershirt, unbuttoned at the top. No tie, only his dirty blonde chest hair peaking out. His dog tags tucked, but the chain was shining. Hugging against his large shoulders. Metals he had been presented from his time in the military pinned to his jacket. Hair slicked back, looking tamer than it ever had in his time on the team. Beard brushed down.

Your chest tightened. Stunned with how handsome he looked. Fluttering long lashes up at him. Holding your arms firm at your sides. Wanting to rub your hands across the expansion of his chest.

John was taken aback by you. Swearing a dress had never fit someone so perfectly. Cleavage reveal just enough for him to take a peak, reverting to his gentlemanly nature and looking past them. His cheeks grew pink for a moment.

Neither of you had outright said how you felt. That made this exchange a little more awkward. Yes, you spent time together. Having movie marathons and cooking for each other. Swearing you had never had a more delectable Chicken Parmesan than John’s. And he was kind to you. Holding doors and offering you his arm as an escort. Glances in crowded rooms lasting longer than they normally would. Neither of you wanting to seem desperate.

But it just made things… difficult.

A game of cat and mouse to see who would crack first. Finding yourselves doing things to make the other mildly jealous. Wearing far too short shorts when walking around the tower, even into the crowded screening room with the other three males of your team. And John would always make sure you saw after a particularly sweaty workout. Muscles toned and throbbing, glistening with perspiration. Towel absentmindedly tossed around his neck.

“You’re kinda a slut,” John would say with his arms bulging across his chest. Joking, of course. This was how you joked back and forth. Watching you bend over to pick something up. Making sure to arch your back and stand even slower so that he could get his fill.

“Yeah? You’re kinda standing there watching like a whore,” you shrugged. Throwing the towel that you had picked up straight at him. Catching it in his large palm like it was nothing. Hooded eyes watching you walk over to him. Head tilted ever slightly.

“I’m not the one letting my ass hang out of my shorts,” John cocked a brow.

“Hmmm,” you tapped your chin, “You should though. Get you some tight, slutty camp counselor shorts. Have it say ‘U.S.A.’ across the ass cheeks. It would be a good show.”

Not letting him win. Only playing further into his game. Causing his face to flush and brows to contort when he could not come up with a clever come back.

“Shut up,” John would roll his eyes.

You would blow him a kiss as you kept walking. Unable to see his eyes lasering into you from behind. Making sure to sway your hips because you knew he was watching. Tongue wetting his bottom lip, trying not to let the way his cock throbbed be too obvious.

“Wow,” John said.

You gave him a closed mouth smile. Folding your hands over in front of yourself. Pushing up on your tiptoes and widening your eyes, “Hi, Walker.”

“You look beautiful,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” you tugged at the sides of the dress, “That suit really makes your eyes pop.”

“O-Oh, yeah? Val sent me to come get you,” he deviated, putting a fake laugh over his words.

“Limou already here?”

John nodded. Still taking in every detail of you. Wanting to make sure he kept the memory forever. You looked so good. So stunning.

You walked to the elevator together. Meeting the rest of the Team along the way. Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei. Valentina could not even begin to force Ava to attend. Not good with crowds, plus it was difficult to get an outfit that would hide her suit. And, well, Bob. Not exactly liked by the public. And she did not want to leave him alone, just in case he began spiraling. It was better to have someone stay behind just in case he needed anything.

Alexei wore a crimson red suit. Freshly shaved head glistening in the lights and jewelry decorating every finger. Sunglasses adorning the New Avengers logo on the side resting on his nose. Yelena wore a white dress. Off shoulder, hair braided along the sides. A stunning full face of makeup, complete with a glittery eye. And Bucky wore a black suit. White undershirt with a black tie. Looking very professional. Classic.

The five of you stepped into the elevator together. John, Alexei, and Yelena ended up against the back side. You and Bucky standing in front of them. Catching his sideways glances at you. Looking over at him with a smile.

Bucky leaned over, lips almost touching your ear, “You look nice.”

Your cheeks heated up at the compliment. Eyes scanning his face, catching his oceanic stare. The corner of his mouth curved upward. Brows sitting heavy on his eyes. One of them barely arching like he was challenging you.

“Thank you. So do you,” you leaned and whispered back to him.

As if everyone else in the elevator could not hear you. Yelena and Alexei exchanged a knowing glance, both of them having to hide their laughter. Yelena peered over to John. His jaw locked. Chest puffed up as his lip twitched. Vein along his temple bulging as his eyes shot through Bucky’s chest.

Yelena pinched at her father’s coat, discreetly pointing to Walker. Alexei’s eyes widened as his jaw hung slacked. Looking back to his daughter with shock. Looking like there was about to be a war tonight.

John tried to steady his breathing. Hating the little giggle that laced your response to Bucky. Becoming enraged by the way Bucky’s eyes ravaged your entire body. Knowing Bucky’s intention, and not liking it. His fists balled at his sides. Curling his fingers in and out as he tried to calm down. It would have been easier if Bucky would stop looking over at you with that shiteating grin of his.

Quickly, Yelena got her phone out to send a text updating Ava on the possible drama of the night. Ava responding almost immediately, ‘KEEP ME UPDATED.’

This was going to be fun.

Ding of the elevator door told you you had reached the ground floor. Bucky’s hand meeting the small of your back as he guided you out. His other hand casually tucked into his pocket. Rest of the team following tightly behind.

John was seeing red.

Watching how nonchalantly you followed his lead. Acting as if you did this often. The words the two of you shared were drowned out by the ringing of John’s ears. Only able to watch how you talked with one of your hands, and how Bucky kept smiling at you. It was so easy for him to hate any man who kept his eyes on you.

The sun had set. Glow of the street lamps the only thing that allowed your eyes to adjust outside. All of you stepping onto the sidewalk, greeted by a limou and Valentina in a sparkling red dress.

“What a good looking bunch!” she clapped her hands and squatted a little in excitement. Showing off her pearly whites with her chuckle. Eyes fixating on how closely you and Bucky stood. Pointing between the two of you with a grin. Widening her gaze with a bounce of her brows.

You rolled your eyes at her. Blowing your breath out hard as you crossed your arms over your chest. An over exaggerated wink was given to you.

“Alright, New Avengers, let’s get to it!” Valentina gestured towards the opened door of the limousine. None of you moved. Awkward silence only broken up by the distant sounds of the streets. Honking and buzzing of lights.

“Okay…” Valentina’s voice trailed off as she put her hands in the prayer position to her lips, “Yelena— in first!”

Yelena shrugged. Encouraging her father to join her. The two of them taking turns getting in, Alexei gave Valentina a dirty look before entering. “I can drive limousine,” Alexei gritted his teeth, words laced with anger.

“I know, big guy,” Valentina patted him on the shoulder. Nodding with her head low in defeat. Eyes widening at the remaining three of you.

“Come on,” Val encouraged.

Bucky stepped forward first, turning to offer you his hand. Accepting it graciously. Giggling softly as he led you forward. Turning to reach your free hand out of John. Grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him behind you. Stumbling at first, quick to correct his mistake. You smiled widely back at him, no longer looking at Bucky. John could not stop the way the corner of his mouth upturned in response.

The three of you taking the seats across from Yelena and Alexei. You sat in the middle of the two super soldiers. Hands folded neatly in your lap.

“Alright, Super Troopers, I’ll see you there,” Valentina waved from outside the door.

“You’re not coming with us?” Yelena questioned.

Valentina laughed, “Showing up with you ragtag bunch? Absolutely not. Keep on your best behavior, remember how many cameras will be there. I’ll find you all later. Don’t say or do anything damning!”

She slammed the door as a punctuation. All of you looking at each other with hints of confusion and bit of aggravation. For someone so invested in this New Avengers thing, Valentina sure did not dedicate herself to the group aspect as she should have. Easier for her to put the blame on all of you when things went wrong this way.

“Of course,” Yelena said unimpressed.

“Devil woman,” Alexei growled.

You chuckled. Pushing your body into John’s, looking up at him with a wide smile. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised,” you admitted looking across to Yelena. Giving her a closed mouth smile and a shrug.

All of you shared in your soft laughter. Allowing yourself to be as calm as possible before the storm that awaited you. Your hand mindlessly rested on John’s thigh for a moment. It consumed his mind. Just how easy it was for you to touch him. The way your body instinctively leaned into his. Almost like a couple. Deciding to relax his own arm across the back of the shared seat. Like it was around your shoulders, just without the blatant physical touch. Fingertips nearly touching Bucky’s metal shoulder. Reminding him of what had him angry to begin with.

Bucky peered over at John. Blue eyes telling him he was aware of the game the two of them were playing. Confirming the suspicions he had been festering on. The two boys had never gotten along. From the moment they met, there was an animosity between them. Steve Rogers’, our original Captain America’s, best friend versus the man the U.S. Government had decided to give the mantel to. There was no world in which they saw eye-to-eye. Especially after John had so distastefully disgraced Steve’s legacy. A legacy that Bucky was all too intertwined in.

You were unaware of the war waging over you. Discussing all the possible public figures you would be seeing tonight with Yelena and Alexei. Recalling some of the events of the battle against Thanos, explaining how severe everything had been leading up to the Blip. Able to vividly see all your old teammates dissipating on the battle field in Wakanda. All their dust simply floating away like they had never existed. The sound of the purple alien’s gauntlet snapping haunted your memory. Distant. Yet still the most powerful noise you had ever heard.

“You can ask Bucky. He got blipped on the battlefield,” you gestured towards him.

Pulling his attention away from his newfound rival. Oceanic eyes looking at you with contorted brows. A little confused. Only having been half listening to your conversation. You widened your eyes at him realizing that he had not been paying attention.

“The Blip..? In Wakanda,” you whispered with a smile that tried to hide your laugh.

“OH! Right, sorry,” Bucky ran his hand over his hair, “It was like one minute you were here then you were gone. Returning five years later was difficult. The world had changed, almost moved on from all of us. Everyone I knew had… changed.”

“That’s why this Gala is so important. Half our population disappeared and reappeared. Coming back to their homes being taken over. All their stuff discarded somewhere that they were forced to find, if it hadn’t been thrown away. We’re raising money so these people can get back to normal,” you said patting your hand on Bucky’s leg. Smiling at him.

John coughed trying to hide his anger. Unknowingly pulling all eight eyes on him. Causing all of you to think he was interjecting in some way. You raised a brow questioning him.

“Got something you wanna add, Walker?” Bucky challenged him.

“Uh— no. Nope. Blip was bad. You guys saved the world from a giant purple alien-guy and his army. We’re all impressed,” jealousy spat from him like venom.

Tension returned between you. The air growing tight in the small back of the limousine. John’s unbothered attitude making your stomach churn a little. Aware there had to be something else going on with him. Normally, he would not act this way when such a serious topic was brought up. You stared at him blankly. Causing the realization of what he said to wash over him. Repositioning himself so that his hands were folded in his lap, leaning himself forward a bit.

“Jesus,” Yelena whispered to Alexei. Looking to you and bouncing her eyes wide for a moment.

It was hard for you to look at John now. Awkwardness building a wall between you. Focusing your attention back to Bucky, voice hardly above a whisper. Quizzing him on statistics about the Blip. He was a Congressman after all, he needed to be able to answer any and all questions they could possibly ask him. Growing a little smug as he continued to remember each number down to the decimal. Smiling as the two of you laughed about an old joke from the days of the Avengers.

Flexing of metal fingers caught your attention.

“Your arm bothering you?” you looked down to his palm.

Fingers expanding and retracting repeatedly. Soft hum of mechanical noises meeting your ears. The black and gold digits ceased their movements at your question.

“Yeah. It’s all good. Just sometimes like to move ‘em,” Bucky’s skin between his eyebrows creased. Offering his hand to you, “Wanna feel?”

Of course you were not going to pass up an opportunity to take a closer look at some foreign tech. Gifted to him from the late Prince of Wakanda. His sister, the new Black Panther, being the tech whizz of the two of them. Shuri was gifted beyond your comprehension, so any chance to check out her work was like a gift to you. Your fingers traced the cool vibranium. Amazed by how similar it was to a real arm.

John swore he could have pulled a gun on the former Winter Soldier. Your words bleeding into a muffled hum. Only able to watch how you leaned over his lap, guiding his arm in each and every direction. Touching him. Over and over again. Each tap of nails or soft rub of fingertips had his teeth grinding.

All of you casually chatted the rest of the ride. John sat with his eyes closed. Eyebrows upturned as he tried to steady his breathing. His leg bouncing up and down as an outlet for everything he was feeling. Replaying the moment prior. Punishing himself for how he acted. It was what he deserved.

The bounce of his leg caught your attention. Eyes quickly looking to his face. The outline of his locked jaw and furrowed brows met you. Deep in thought. He was isolating himself. This was how he dealt with his emotions. Pushing everyone and everything away. Dwelling on all the bad.

You softly flattened your hand on his knee. Your thumb rubbing circles into the expensive fabric. His eyes shot open, looking at your manicured nails splayed across him. Peeking over to see your side profile. Smiling as you talked to Alexei about Steve Rogers. Your other hand wildly gesturing to emphasize your point. Not even giving John a sideways glance.

It annoyed him slightly. The casualty in which you knew how to calm him down. Ground him when he needed it. The way you smiled and it showed off your beautiful teeth. Gracing the others with the pleasure of seeing it in its entirety. Not even letting him get a look. Yet it was him who you rested your hand on. His body you had previously pressed your weight into. It was all a little confusing, which is what got under John’s skin.

The limousine halted to a stop. Caught in a line of traffic, every other vehicle seemingly arrived at the same time. You looked over your shoulder at the paparazzi outside. Clicking and flashing of far too large cameras was drowned out by the talking of everyone. Thankful for the tinted windows that hid you from their view.

Alexei chuckled in anticipation, “The Avengers will be on every cover story tomorrow!”

“That might not be a good thing,” John said as he rested his chin against his knuckles. Peering out the window at everyone dressed in their finest attire. Praying that you all would not stand out like a sore thumb. Each of your public images still on thin ice with the press.

You cringed at the thought, meeting John’s eyes and giving him a closed mouth smile. Both of you turned inward towards one another. His shoulders rose in a soft shrug. Taking a deep breath before looking back out the window.

“Not all of us publicly executed someone, Walker,” Yelena said with a mischievous grin.

John’s head quickly whipped back to look at her. Scrunching his nose up as he faked a laugh. Nodding at her, then rolling his eyes. “Yeah? Well, you have more blood on your hands than I could ever manage. So,” he scoffed, waving at her.

“Don’t start,” Bucky groaned already annoyed with this.

You lovingly rolled your eyes at the bickering. Yelena loved to get under John’s skin. Easily riling him up with a mention of his family or his time as Captain America. It usually ended with him letting all his anger out on a punching bag in the training room. Or coming to your room to vent about it all.

A thick silence filled the space. All of you waiting for the door to open. Your freedom barely a few feet away. Stuck in the tin-can with everyone holding knives at each other’s throats. You continued to watch elegant women and men strut up the stairs of the venue. Posing for pictures with their designer purses and shoes. Almost feeling inferior to the rich upper crusts.

“I’m nervous,” you closed the small gap between you and John so you could whisper into his ear.

“Yeah?” cerulean eyes looked into yours, voice low so the others could not hear.

You sighed as you nodded. Lips piercing together as you tried not to let yourself get overwhelmed. Being thrown into the spotlight was one of the most difficult adjustments of your life. Having to ignore every headline and article.

“You know how they like to talk about me in the news,” you fidgeted with one of the bangles on your wrist.

And he did know. Every chance they got, there was a new article about your personal life. Spotted at a coffee shop, walking in the park, getting lunch with an old friend. It all somehow circled back to you being, what they would call, a ‘temptress.’ You were never allowed to have casual relations with anyone. Platonic luncheons being misconstrued as another blossoming romance for you. Or worse, you sleeping around. That was the stories they liked to run most.

It all overshadowed your abilities as a hero. You could usually ignore it. But when you would walk down the streets and see magazine covers and newspaper headlines all covering where you had went to dinner the night before, it made you sick. Unsure why you had been their target so often. You were a competent fighter. Trained by S.H.I.E.L.D. and having spent some time in Wakanda learning their battle methods. Not including your intellect for building suits and weapons.

Yet somehow it was always about the newest person you were spotted with.

John hated the way your frown would tug your lips down after another story broke. People were not exactly supportive of the New Avengers. Memes and blogs dedicated to how big of a joke you all were. Forcing you all to grow tough skin. It did not change the way John’s heart would break when he saw you teary eyed sitting on one of the couches. Phone held in your hand as you scrolled through another article. Reminding him of how he had been. Falling down the rabbit hole of self hatred. He would do whatever he could to make you feel better. Sitting down beside you to show you some old video that he had found funny in his first years of basic training. Or asking if you had seen some movie or heard a new song. Anything to distract you from wallowing. Loving the way you would try and hide your laugh. Tucking your face into his shoulder as you leaned into him.

John’s hand patted your thigh. Igniting your flesh as your heart skipped a beat. Doeing your eyes up at him inquisitively. A knowing look behind his eyes accompanying the soft curve of his lip, “I also know that they’re a bunch of assholes.”

Your cheeks beamed. Smiling at him widely. This was the John you knew. Kind, knowing exactly how to make you smile. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach.

The door opened with a loud click. The loud sound of the press and attendees met your ears. Shuttering of cameras, loud questions from news reporters, all wrapped in a bow of smooth jazz blaring from some speakers.

Your chest tightened. Caging you in with your anxieties. Watching as your teammates all began out like this was a normal experience. All of them standing from their seats. It was like your feet were glued to the floor. Hands locked together as you watched Alexei and Yelena exit first. The Red Guardian shouting loudly in excitement as he waved to each camera. Yelena keeping a cool head as she always did. Waving nonchalantly to the paparazzi as they called her name.

Your time with the Avengers had not been like this. Flaunting around, feeling like celebrities on a red carpet. You were a behind the scenes type. Able to stay in the shadows unless needed out in the field. Never being the one they sent to talk to news outlets. Only tagging along to big headline events on rare occasion.

Your breath was teetering. Blinking over and over trying to will yourself to get up. The lights shining in through the door blurred. Your ears rang. Able to see the dark outline of someone offering a hand out to you. Taking it before your eyes fully refocused. Dazed as you were led out onto the steps of the venue. Able to switch into a smile as fast as your feet hit the ground. Waving with your free hand to the press as the hand remained in yours. Finally looking to see whose name would be next to yours on the newspaper tomorrow.

Navy blue suit jacket spanning across a wide back. Confidence exuding from the Super Soldier who helped you out. A smile that gleamed in the reflection of spotlights. Strawberry blonde locks and beard adorning his head.

John Walker.

It was like time slowed down when he looked over his shoulder at you. Everything around you disappeared. Cerulean eyes sparkling as they met yours. Pearly whites on display. The softest shade of pink washed over his cheeks. Swearing he had never looked so handsome. For a moment it was like he was your knight in shining armor. Like Cinderella running away from the ball, except in the hands of her suitor.

The feeling of a hand on your other wrist distracted you. Pulling you out of John’s grasp. Contorting your brows as you turned to see who had interrupted you.

Valentina.

Dragging you over to be standing with Bucky. He was already being questioned by several reporters. Microphones shoved in his face. Stern exterior never cracking for a minute. Practically being shoved into his shoulder, deep blue eyes looking over to you with a smile and soft ‘hi.’ Your hand flattened against his bicep trying to not fall in front of so many people. Bucky instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you stand. Metal fingers hugged the curve of your hip. Returning his smile with a giggle to hide how truly embarrassed you were.

Every set of eyes on you widened. For the first time, it was like all the chatter subsided. Looking around you to see all the attention on you. Feeling like you could retreat into a shell and hide forever. Your face heated up as you looked to Bucky for an answer.

“Like I was saying,” Bucky redirected to the previous question he had been asked, “Homelessness in the case of citizens who were blipped is a serious epidemic. We are working on finding solutions to this longstanding issue.”

A spark of pride shot through you. You had quizzed him well, he really did know how to handle himself. Even if he was conventionally not a good public speaker.

“And what about you, Miss Y/N?”

You took a deep breath, “The Blip really left us in a confusing state. Not only socially but economically. We are striving towards solutions that work for all parties involved.”

The reporters thanked you both as Bucky raised a hand to excuse you both. Walking along the roped in section. Posing for a handful of pictures. Waving to some people who were holding New Avengers signs. Surprised to see any kind of positive outlook on your team.

“You didn’t have to throw yourself at me to get my attention,” Bucky smirked keeping his facade steady for the cameras.

You snorted, “I didn’t. Valentina dragged me over to you.”

“That’s what I’d say too,” he leaned to whisper in your ear.

You laughed, swatting at his chest. Unfortunately aware of the photo opportunities you were giving the crowd. Stiffening your posture to try and not seem so comfortable with the Congressman. Knowing that laugh you have would haunt you for the next few weeks. Scanning the area for any sign of John. Unable to find his slicked back hair anywhere in the crowd. Able to see the entrance finally. Relief allowed your shoulders to sag. He had to be inside.

You were flagged down by a young, male reporter. Excusing yourself from Bucky, who was being pulled to a reporter on the opposite side. You smiled and greeted the man. Shocked by the lack of video camera in his partner’s hands. Only a photography camera. Snapping pictures of you as you walked over.

“Miss Y/N,” he began, cockiness dripping from his demeanor, “May I say, you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

You nodded, fisting your dress in your hands, “Thank you.”

“Must be hard to be the most attractive girl on your team.”

Your stomach churned. Brows pushing together for only a second, not allowing his cameraman to capture that expression on you.

“I’m not sure I understand—“

“Well, you get out of the limousine with our former Captain America. Just to be seen in the arms of Congressman Barnes. Do you plan on leaving the event with the Red Guardian?”

What a fucking prick.

Looking down at the pin on his lapel. Dawning on you where you had seen the name before. A podcast. Ran by the two men in front of you. The name being some shitty misogynistic ‘joke’ about female heroes. Exclusively discussing female heroes and their personal lives. Shaming and harassing women for years.

You bit the inside of your cheek, not allowing your expression to change. Realizing he had a microphone next to the pin. Must have been live streaming an episode.

“Thanks for the question,” you waved him off, walking away faster than you had approached.

“Oh, come on! Smile a little, honey!”

You scoffed, not turning to give him a second glance. Holding your dress up as you cascaded up the stairs. Reaching the top and seeing Yelena. She was leaned back against one of the pillars, talking to someone you could not see. You rushed over to her. Your hand resting on her shoulder as you greeted her. Introducing yourself to the woman she was talking to. Young, had to be new to college. She was writing a paper on the struggles of female heroes in todays society.

“Thank God I found you,” you sighed, hands resting on your hips with wide eyes. Cupping your hand around Yelena’s ear so you could whisper, “Podcast bro is here.”

Yelena gagged with a laugh. It made you feel a thousand pounds lighter. Laughing right alongside her. She was someone who understood your struggles the way other’s could not always. A certain level of understanding between girls.

“You should send Alexei down to him,” Yelena grinned.

“Oh my God,” you smirked, covering your mouth with your hand as you leaned to laugh.

“I saw all the boys go inside,” Yelena gestured with her pointer finger, “I’ll be in shortly.”

You nodded, shaking the young girl’s hand before waving goodbye to Yelena. Wishing her good luck with the paper. Heading inside to watch over the crowd below. Shocked by the sheer amount of people inside. Shoulder to shoulder. Glasses of champagne pinched between every set of fingers. Soft ballroom music played, some people danced in the center. A stylized number that had them all moving together perfectly.

A man with a tray passed by you, offering a glass to you. Accepting it with a ‘thank you’. Still feeling so out of place with the suits. An echoing belly laugh caught your attention, able to recognize it anywhere. Walking up to the old porcelain railing. Finding Alexei’s crimson suit standing alongside several other men. Recognizing Bucky’s dark hair from the balcony you stood upon. Smiling when Alexei grabbed one of the men by their shoulder harder than he probably should have.

Bucky stood with his hands in his pockets. Stiff posture and cautious eyes scanning the room. Looking up catching you, doing a double take to make sure he was seeing you correctly. Waving up at you. Catching Alexei’s attention. Pointing at you and shouting your name. It made your face flush, embarrassing you as if he was your own father. You waved with a bright smile down at the group who now all were looking at you.

While it was nice to get your eyes on most of your teammates, there was still one missing. You began to circle the upper floor, no sign of the blonde soldier. Growing a bit flustered. Making sure to hide it behind a smile. Sharing pleasantries with each person you made eye contact with.

Preparing to give up. Assuming he must have snuck off somewhere so that he did not have to be seen. Deciding you would just head down and join Bucky and Alexei.

Until a breathy voice said your name. Turning on your heel to see John, hair a little disheveled and breathing a little heavy. Like he had been running. You immediately smiled widely. Almost giddy to see him. You walked to meet him halfway.

“Hi,” you said unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“Hey,” he tried to catch his breath.

John flexed his fist. Stretching out his fingers. Looking around for your other teammates. Surprised he did not find Bucky riding your coattail. "Where is everybody?"

"Yelena's outside. Alexei and Bucky are making friends on the dance floor," you grinned, motioning behind you with your thumb.

"And you're..?"

"Hiding from paparazzi," you joked.

He nodded, hands resting on his hips, "Guess I'm doing the same."

Truly, John felt relieved that you were alone. Expecting Bucky to be making the moves on you. After the look he gave him when his hand wrapped on your waist, all bets were off. Chivalry being the last thing on his mind from that moment onward. He had to get some air. Storming off to the side of the building. Pushing past each and every reporter that questioned him. Hands tethering through his hair as he squatted against the cold exterior. Needing to calm down before he made a fool of himself and the entire team. Putting himself back to the moment you got out of the limousine together. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him. Like he was the hero in your own personal fairytale. No one had looked at him like that in so long.

Finally able to take a real breath. Standing up and composing himself. Flattening down his coat and pants. Starting to round the corner when he heard your voice. Peeking around the corner to see you being questioned by a young man. Admiring the way you composed yourself, until he heard that stupid fucking question come from the boy. Not fully convinced he had heard him correctly. Watching the way you tensed up and your face flushed. Stammering out a question before he continued. Insinuating things about you that simply were not true. The look in your eyes as you all but ran from the idiots set John off.

Waiting until the two boys stepped away snickering to act. The two of them taking hits of their small vapes before John grabbed them by their collars. Shrieking like their entire lives flashed before their eyes. Confused and scared. John made sure to rip the two small microphones off their lapels and smash them into the concrete. The boys not recognizing the man whose hands were pinning them up against the wall at first. Curses falling from their mouths over and over. John's eyes lasered into them. Ready to strike.

"You guys like picking on pretty girls?"

The two boys choked, hands clawing and prying at John's arms. Holding them firmly up in the air.

"H-Holy shit. Bro, it's John Walker," the camera boy strained and swatted at his partner.

John looked between them, pulling forward to slam them back once more, "Answer the fucking question!"

"Jesus Christ, dude! You're, like, the exact type of guy we do the show for!"

That only enraged him more. His public image really had gone completely down the drain. Losing all credibility he had as the residential good boy on the block. Painted a monster and complete asshole to the public. If they were going to see him that way, he might as well give them a reason to.

"You don't know a thing about me," John all but growled.

"Oh, I get it," the cocky main man started, "Your little girlfriend send you over here? Thought she was plenty capable to fight her own fights. Poor Y/N, needing her junior varsity boy-toy to come save her from the mean men on the internet," he mocked John.

John stared at them. His head falling forward as he released his grip slowly on the two of them. Their feet met the ground, but they were frozen. John's shoulders bounced as he laughed. Confusing them further. Giving them a moment to really think they had won.

"Um, dude—"

John reared back and punched the main boy in the mouth. Knocking him to the ground. Swiftly repeating the action on the camera man. The two boys laid unconscious on the ground. John shook his fist before straightening his coat. Fixing his appearance before returning to the event.

" 'm just happy I finally caught up with you," John smiled.

"Me too. I'm feeling a little out of my element here," you tried to hide your nerves.

"And about earlier—"

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet Congressman Gary," Bucky's voice interrupted.

Quick to plaster on your most convincing smile. Extending your hand out to him, "It's a pleasure, Congressman."

"Please, the pleasure is mine," he smiled.

"John F. Walker," he stepped forward offering his hand to the politician, "Former Captain America."

"Oh, I know who you are, son," his tone reeked of disdain.

It was like a shot directly through John's chest. Overtly aware of the way everyone here perceived him. Not expecting such blatant disrespect, especially from a member of Congress. In the country he gave everything to defend. Just for them to kick him to the curb when he did something they did not approve of. Moreso something that made their public image look bad.

You tapped your fingers discreetly along John's palm to let him know that what the man had said was not okay. At least he would always have you on his side.

"Congressman Gary has invited the two of us down to his table," Bucky explained, "Care to join us?"

"Oh! Uh—" you looked to John whose brows were upturned slightly, "Well, I... What about—"

"She'd love to, Buck," John answered for you, his hand splaying along your lower back. Urging you forward into the arms of his enemy. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you looked up at John. Silently questioning why he would do this.

John knew it was important to you to get your name and reputation cleared. Conversing with a Congressman certainly had to give you some form of credibility that outshined the tabloids. Even if it meant he was practically waving a white flag to Bucky.

"I think she can answer for herself, Walker," Bucky quipped monotonous.

John glared at him. Anger coursing through his veins. Ready to settle things with the older soldier outside.

"John—"

He leaned down so he could whisper in your ear, "It's okay. I know this is important for you. Make the most of it. We can catch up later, sweetheart."

Addition of the pet name caused your face to flush. Reluctantly being pulled away by Bucky. Looking back at John. He resembled an abandoned puppy. Blue eyes wide and pleading with you to come running back into his arms. Tucking his hands into his pockets as the forced smile faded from his face. Walking away from where you were being led. Losing sight of him in the crowds of people.

Refocusing your view forward. Bucky led you through the crowds of people effortlessly. Offering you his hand to assist you down the stairs. Smiling as you mumbled to yourself with each step. Coaching yourself through keeping balance.

The table full of bureaucrats narrowed in your vision. All their eyes looking to you and Bucky. He introduced you, leading to an abundance of handshakes and pleasantries. Pulling the vacant chair out for you, pushing you in. Taking the seat directly beside you.

It felt like a million years. Answering question after question. Discussion after discussion. The Adamantium Conflict. The Housing Crisis. Dimensional Rifts. Reminding yourself that you were representing all your fellow Thunderbolts*. Making sure you answered with dignity and grace. Catching Bucky’s eyes throughout the conversations. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he intently listened to you.

Eventually, the conversation fizzled out. Politicians discussing their vacation homes and house boats. Completely out of touch with the issues at hand. Unsurprising to you.

You scanned the room for your other teammates. Alexei was sharing war stories with a group of elderly veterans. Sharing how different things seemed from his point of view. Idealizing the States in a way. Yelena was off speaking highly of her late sister. Making sure to keep her legacy alive, she saved the world after all. And, of course, Bucky beside you.

John was no where to be found. It crossed your mind that he may have left. Everyone had been rather cruel to him tonight, you could not blame him if he did not want to stay around.

You clicked your nails on the table. Lost completely in thought, finally able to attempt at a clear head. Looking around at all the bright lights and dazzling decor. Bucky’s hand rested on yours, pulling your attention to him.

“I could listen to you talk for hours,” Bucky admitted.

Your face flushed, “Thank you.”

You had known Bucky longer than your other Teammates. Flirtatious nature was nothing new to him; he was a playboy back before he got sent off to war. Causing you to assume it was just how he played with you. Never considering his advances were legitimate. Because who didn’t he flirt with?

Hooded blue eyes stared into yours. Like looking into the ocean during a storm. Dark hair and beard accenting his lighter features perfectly. Years of trauma and experience highlighting his forehead and eyes with their roadmap. He was gorgeous.

But something was not right to you.

Scooting of chairs behind you caught your attention. Turning to see all the congressmen extending hands out to their dates and escorting them to the dance floor. Each of them taking a waltz position and gracefully stepping to the music.

So you watched as elegant attendees danced together. Long dresses cascading atop of the porcelain. Heels clicking on the polished floor. Slow strum of the live band calmed you. One of the blue suits causing you to day dream. Imagining you and John centered on the floor. His hand on your hip as you danced together. Losing yourself in his skyline eyes. Everyone around you fading away. Soft smile painting his face as he held eye contact with you. Dipping you and finally—

“Care to join me?”

Bucky had rose from his chair with a hand extended out to you. You blinked.

Cameras shuttered.

Your public image.

“Of course,” you happily accepted. Walking hand and hand out to the middle of the dance floor. One of your hands on his shoulder and the other held in his. His other hand rested on your waist. All eyes were on the two Avengers. Sharing a formal dance so publicly.

Bucky led you. Stepping perfectly in time with the slow, loving music. You analyzed his face. Soft scars decorating his forehead and cheeks. Clearly from his years as the Winter Soldier. The mix of greying hairs in his beard made you grin. Sometimes you forgot just how old he truly was.

“Lots of people watching us tonight,” Bucky’s voice was low. Speaking through his teeth so no lingering eyes could decipher his words.

“I know,” you looked around to see almost every table staring and whispering. Unable to hear their words due to the speakers next to your ears. Able to read their expressions, knowing these journalists would have a heyday.

“Does it make you nervous?”

You whipped your head back to him. Eyebrows knitting for a moment, “Nothing makes me nervous.”

Your guard was up suddenly. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness to your team leader. Easier to lie than be vulnerable.

Bucky chuckled. Eyes squinting up as he smiled.

You glared at him.

He leaned in so that his lips ghosted against your ear, “Do I make you nervous?”

Your bodies were pressed perfectly together. The hand that had been on his shoulder now splayed along his broad back. Heat radiated off your face. Close proximity and the way his breath fanned along your neck had your head fuzzy. His fingertips dug into your lower back with his question. Awaiting some form of a response. Satisfied when you gasped lowly.

“Of course not,” you whispered back.

Bucky pulled back grinning. Spinning you when the music kicked up. You tried to understand him. His intentions were not clear. Unsure if this was longing or lust. Not liking the conclusion you had jumped to.

“What’s your game here, Congressman Barnes?” your voice was low and sultry. Teasing trying to get his facade to break.

Suddenly, he dipped you backwards. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. Eyes sparkling with the chandelier above.

“Whatever you want it to be,” he barely said.

There was an eruption of clapping when the song ending. Making you abundantly aware of the spectacle you had been giving. Not even noticing that the dance floor was empty other than the two of you. Encased in a circle of Bucky’s fellow politicians.

Your throat tightened. The room closing in around you as you caught the eyes of each individual person. Some confused, some awestruck, some disgusted. It was all so overwhelming.

Bucky pulled your hand up to his mouth. Featherlight lips planted themselves there. Your eyes widened as you stared at him. Ears slowly beginning to ring from embarrassment. Cameras flashes. A pit formed in your stomach.

This was all wrong.

Valentina finally met the two of you on the floor. Applauding and laughing. Smile spanning from ear to ear as she spoke to the press before either of you got the chance. You looked around the room as Val smiled for the camera. Shoulders heaving with each deep breath you took. Sweat beaming along your neck and down your back.

Catching a familiar set of eyes.

Everything around you slowed. All air being punched out of your lungs. His face was scalding red. Standing out harshly against his navy blue suit. Brows laying harshly across his eyes as he stared at you. Cold. Distant. Alarming.

John had witnessed the whole thing. Down to the finer details. The way Bucky’s hands held onto you like you belonged to him. How you followed his every move and your bodies looked so perfect pressed together. A hole forming in his chest. Stomach knotting.

This was wrong.

Your eyes welled up immediately. How could you let this all happen? You started over to him when Valentina grabbed you by the wrist. You shook your head as you watched John disappear out a side door. The slam causing all the sound to return to you. Bombarded with questions and microphones. Bucky’s arm wrapped loosely around you like before. It was all too much for you to fake happiness. Only able to fight back tears and a broken voice.

How did this happen?

John stormed into a far too tall corridor a few halls down from the main floor. Screaming louder than he had in some time. Punching out a piece of a concrete pillar. Every inch of his body was shaking. Veins on his neck bulging as he strained. He was a fool. Practically handing you over to Bucky just for such a grand spectacle to be made.

Things used to be easy for him. High School Sweethearts with Olivia. A beautiful son he loved dearly. High ranking in the military. Being given the honor of becoming the new Captain America.

It was all ripped from him. Claw marks left in his wake. Achievements. Accolades. Friends. Family. Respect. All gone. His name was a blotch on any and every headline. Causing more people disgust than faith.

He was unsure how much more he could handle. Ready to give it all up until the Thunderbolts* saved him. Finally finding people who saw him as a normal, breathing human being. Flaws and past mistakes not damning to everyone. Only a small part of what made him John Walker. Able to find comfort and validation from the New Avengers. Befriending Bob Reynolds, who he lovingly called ‘Bobby’, bonding with Alexei over shared recipes and cooking tips, razzing back and forth with Ava and Yelena; it had became a family to him.

Especially with you.

Knowing he could fall into your arms at any moment. You were like the warm light from inside when he had been locked out in the cold. Welcoming him with a warm embrace. There was no sign of uncertainty or judgement from you. Even when he would lie and puff his chest to seem bigger and tougher than he was emotionally. Or when you two would get agitated and begin name calling. Slowly beginning to laugh as the you came up with a stupid sounding insult. Unable to remain angry at each other for too long. You liked him for him. When he looked at you, he knew where his home was. Even if neither of you were ever willing to admit it.

And maybe it was all one sided. He was coming to terms with that. Accepting a life where he had to watch from afar as Bucky got the girl of his dreams. Got to hold you every night. Wake up next to you each morning. Simply getting the privilege to be yours.

No.

He could not accept this. Not like this. Forehead pressed into the column, an arm rested above his head. Teeth grinding together as he tried to regain composure. Faint and distant voices alerted him from above. Steadying his breathing as to not give away his cover. Focusing his ears to understand them.

"Didn't you hear? Barnes and Y/L/N are an item," one woman gossiped to her friend. A labored gasp escaping the other woman. Giggling together.

"No!"

"Saw the headline the other day. Guess tonight confirms it," she sipped her drink.

"Sure does like to get around, doesn't she? Thought she had settled down with one of those older Avengers."

John's jaw locked. Fists bruising at his sides. Nails almost breaking the skin in his palm. Blood boiling below the surface. Nostrils flaring with his concentrated breaths. Like a bull having a red flag waved before him. If he had to hear one more stranger utter your name he swore he would lose his mind. Lip twitching as the two women walked off somewhere, voices carrying with them.

You were the topic of all discussion tonight.

Rage was overflowing from him. All these strangers discussing his girl. Acting as if they knew you at all. Painting you as some villain amongst heroes. His teeth were clamped so tight that it was shocking one had not busted yet. Huffing like a bull about to charge. His chest ached. Molten hot blood pumped through his veins as he spiraled with each new thought that entered his mind.

Your hands on Bucky’s chest. Sultry smiles on both your faces. Everyone around you approving and celebrating. Bucky’s hands on your waist and back. Lips nearing in—

“FUCK—“ John punched the same pillar. Losing himself to his anger. Hands scraping against his scalp as he ruffled his own hair. Palm slamming repeatedly against his temple trying to stop the thoughts that intruded him.

This was not going to happen.

Luckily, the crowd around you had died down. Your hands folded neatly in front of you as you stood off to the side. Leaned against a wall as you watched your teammates discuss things with politicians and news outlets. Maybe they would say something that got this target off your back. Sick and tired of being the center of attention.

Your opportunity was here. You could sneak off, even if it was just for a moment. Fresh air calling your name like a siren to a sailor. Taking one final look around the room before slowing backing to meet the door. Discretely escaping into the big empty corridor. Fingers flexing at your sides as you took multiple deep breaths. Looking up at the windows and how the moon shined down on you.

Silence.

Peaceful.

You closed your eyes and flattened a hand over your chest. Feeling the low thump of your heartbeat. Clearing your mind of all the struggles of the evening.

Except one.

John. The pain on his face when the paparazzi and crowds flooded you and Bucky. How quickly he fled from you. It made you nauseous.

Regretting not confessing your feelings to him before tonight. Maybe then all of this would not have been so misconstrued. At the end of the day, you had no interest in a relationship with Bucky. He was charming and would make a wonderful husband… for someone other than you.

John was all you wanted.

And you wish you had told him before now.

The door beside you creaked. Composing yourself so that whoever was going to enter would not see how you were breaking.

A firm grasp pulled you into the vacant hallway. Your back scuffing against the cold porcelain wall. Air escaping your lungs as you grunted from the sheer force. Opening your eyes to see cerulean bulbs staring at you. Brows knitted so tightly together they could have been one.

Sound of your heartbeat thumped against your eardrums. Only able to take small quick breaths, lungs never refilling. Bruising fingertips dug into your shoulders. Keeping you still.

“J-John…?”

Predatory eyes glued into yours. Feeling like a bunny trapped in the jaws of a coyote. Teeth sinking further until you were paralyzed. Knowing any second it would all be over. Fear pumped through your veins in the meantime.

John’s head cocked slowly to the side. Scanning trained eyes down your figure. Soft twitch of his upper lip barely noticeable. Sweat began to form along your brow. Swallowing your dry mouth. Bottom lip quivering as you tried to speak.

His hand came up to caress your jaw. Fingers splaying softly against the side of your jugular. Burning from his touch. Thumb padding at your lip. Dragging it down with his digit. Gently rubbing circles into your jaw with it afterward.

“Everyone’s favorite girl tonight,” his voice was raspy and low.

“Wh-what?”

“All these eyes. All over you. Little Miss Popular,” he smiled, more so resembling a snarl.

You rested your head against the wall behind you, angling your chin so that you could hold eye contact. His pupils were like black holes. Sucking you in, and there was no getting away from him.

"I've been trying to be with you all night," you admitted coyly.

"Barnes keeps taking you from me," he breathed. Jealousy spitting from him like venom. His stern eyes analyzed your reaction. Slight twitch of your eyebrow irritating him.

“You liked it, didn’t you?”

Your stomach flipped, “John—“

“Liked having two guys fight over you,” his hand outlined your side, leading down to your hip, “Getting to be the center of attention tonight. Able to make two super soldiers crumble with a simple flutter of your lashes. Makes you feel real powerful, doesn’t it?”

This was a side of him you had never seen. Overtaken by jealousy for your colleague. Interrogating you like you were a foreign enemy. Intimidating glare locked onto your face.

And you would be lying if you said it did not have every inch of you tingling. Your head was spinning. Musky cologne overwhelming your nostrils. Wanting to touch him. To pull him flush against your body, just to say you could feel him. You mouthed words that could not form. Not sure exactly what he wanted from you like this.

His nose was narrowing in on yours. Lips barely separated as you breathed the same air. Trying to stay as quiet as possible. Almost too afraid to speak and run the other off. The silence was thick. Suffocating you. John’s fingertips dug into your hip, the other hand resting against the wall next to your head.

“Want me to give you back to him?”

You shook your head immediately, “I want you…”

John groaned, eyes squinting shut for a moment. His forehead falling against yours as his lip quivered. Labored breaths rolling throughout his torso.

“Say it again,” John grumbled, fingers bruising your skin.

“I don’t want Bucky. John… I want you,” you said a little more confident. Hands finally mustering the courage to touch him. Flattening against his chest, roaming every inch of his upper half. Fingertips dancing against his chest hair peaking out of his collar.

John’s hand cupped your cheek. Instinctively leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. A low whimper bubbling in the back of your throat. Driving John mad. The feeling of your hands all over him, the way you gave in so easily to his touch, how your voice was lined with desperation; he needed you more than ever.

His head tilted slightly. Slowly and gently pressing his lips to yours. Sparks ignited deep within your guts. Lips locking into yours like they were made for one another. Your arms snaked around his shoulders, folding hands over the back of his neck. His tongue prodded at your lips, testing the waters. You allowed him access as you shifted to meet his lips. Lapping into your mouth as if you were his last meal. Trying to get every last taste on his tongue.

His hands roamed down your back, splaying along your spine and pushing you against his front. Able to feel the stiffening outline at his groin. It heated up your skin, face flushing entirely at the idea. Lips ventured down your throat. Kissing and experimenting with teeth along your pulse. You gasped softly when one of his canines grazed you. Wanting to mark you as his. Leave hickeys and bite marks all where anyone and everyone could see. Especially Congressman Barnes. Teach him to stay away from you.

But he knew better. Knew that would only cause more rumors to spiral, something he could not put on you. He supposed he could wait until he got you alone. Leave some serious marking on your chest. A secret only the two of you would know.

Tapping of shoes against linoleum causes you both to jump. They were above you. Two pairs. Heavier than the ones John had previously heard. Their deeper voices echoed throughout the vacant room. John quickly planted his hand over your mouth. Raising his other finger to his mouth to make sure you would stay quiet. Taking control of the situation. It made your core pulse. His eyes looked upward like it helped him focus on their voices.

“Barnes and Y/L/N. Who would have thought,” one of the men muttered.

“I don’t care. I’m just relieved this is going to take all the heat off the Gala’s back. We’ll be lucky if those two boys don’t make this event the joke of the year,” the other replied.

John’s eyes peered to yours. Jealousy brewing behind his irises. You widened your eyes at him, shrugging.

“It’s probably a good thing someone finally kicked their asses. I don’t even know why they would give those two bozos a media pass. All they do is sexually harass women,” the first man sighed.

John blinked rapidly. His head lowering for a moment. Almost like he was trying to come up with a cover.

You arched your eyebrows at him. Guilt clear on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Woman haters and all that. Who isn’t?” their voices carried away. Remaining in the position John had you held in waiting until they were completely gone. No more footsteps. No more chattering.

John pulled his hand away from your mouth. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you. You smirked knowingly, “John…”

He gritted his teeth as he scoffed. Rolling his eyes over exaggerated. Palming against his hair as he rolled his shoulders. Blown pupils looking into yours. Quickly tucking his face back against your neck.

“I heard what they said to you. Had to teach them a lesson,” he grumbled finishing his sentence with a kiss.

Heat bloomed in your chest. The fact he had taken care of those shitty podcast bros just because they disrespected you. Almost like an ownership over you. As badly as you needed to scold him in this moment, you were flattered. Your protector.

John hooked one of his hands around the back of your thigh. Arching it around his waist as he inhaled deeply. Taking in the smell of you like he would possibly forget it one day. Stiffened member rested against your core. Layers of clothing making it a little more difficult to feel, but he was there. One of your hands tangled in the back of his hair. Whispering sweet little moans into his ear.

You were driving him absolutely insane. His restraint was slipping with each breathless sigh in his ear. Each swipe of his tongue against your collar. How perfectly your bodies felt pressed together. He had waited so long for you, longer than he was ever willing to wait before. It was all about to crumble.

His hand roamed under your dress. Skillful fingertips finding the band of your panties, tugging at it. Rimming the waistline, barely dipping his fingers beneath. Hungry lips traveled up your throat, resting open on the sensitive spot right below your ear. Huffing loudly like all the air had been punched out of him.

“Need you,” was all he could force out. Rolling his hips against your core. Chasing the feeling of your warmth. You cracked out a moan. Gingerly, he pressed kisses along your jawline, “Tell me you need me too.”

It was almost desperate. His insecurities showing for barely a moment. Wanting validation. Needing to hear you say how badly you needed him. Vindicating all his actions tonight. His anger. Jealousy. Loss of control.

“I need you, but… we can’t… not here,” you sighed, one hand clawing against his back muscles.

“I’ll run back to that goddamn tower with you in my arms if it means I can have you,” John admitted.

“We can catch a cab,” you suggested instead. The implication that he was this wound up had your head fuzzy. John pulled back to meet your gaze. Smiling widely.

In a flash, you were being dragged out the side exit. John helped you down the stairs, making sure to keep a pretty image for any wandering eyes. Walking a little funny to hide the tent that was pitching in his slacks. Walking a short distance down the street to get away from the glitz and glam of the Gala. Catching a standard yellow cab. John let you in first.

John instructed the driver of the address. Leaning back and planting his hands firmly in his lap. Something shifted when you left the highly tense environment of the banquet. Almost like neither of you would dare look at the other. Lines of streetlights would pass over each of your faces. Staring out the windows on either side of the cab. Your heart was racing. Pulse thudding against your eardrums. Your entire body was hot to the touch. It all seemed fake, maybe that was why you did not dare make eye contact. Too afraid of pushing the other away. It was intimate.

John rested his hand on the small space between your seats. Catching your attention, almost like an invitation. You grazed your fingertips over the top of his hand. Watching how he tried to look over at you without moving his head. His cheeks were red. Leg bouncing with anticipation. Your fingers wrapped around his palm, makeshift hand holding.

Goosebumps traced down his arms. Swallowing the large lump that had swollen in his throat. After harboring all these feelings for you for so long in secret, it felt fake. Never could he have believed you would reciprocate.

You shifted in the back of the cab. Scooting and closing the distance between you. John barely dared to turn his head, soft eyes meeting yours. You flattened a hand on his thigh, pushing yourself against him. Your lips trailed up his neck to his ear. Barely leaving kisses in your wake. His lip quivered. Arm snaking around you to grip onto your hip. His tongue darted out to wet his drying lips.

“Your room or mine?” you traced a finger up his thigh, landing on the place he longed for you most. Palming him slowly overtop his zipper.

His head fell backwards as he sighed. Trying to catch his breath and form a cognitive thought. His lips were parted as he attempted to think. Digits bruising into your side.

“Come on, Cap. Give me an answer,” you teased, kissing up his jaw and resting your mouth directly next to his.

John shivered.

“Keep it up and we won’t make it inside,” his voice had dropped an octave. Eyes completely black and hungry. Capturing your lips in his. His other hand coming up to grasp your face, holding you in place as he shifted. Guiding you onto his lap, straddling his thigh. You gasped. Friction feeling obscenely good against your core. Rolling your hips slowly. Breaking the kiss to press your forehead into his. Panting the same air between you. Trying your hardest to stay quiet. Until he bucked his leg up forcing you to rut against his strong muscle. You whined as you fell into him.

You were like two wild animals. Not caring about your driver. Not caring how desperate you seemed. Just needed friction and warmth. Wanting to be as close together as possible.

You held your breath as the vehicle stopped. Looking out the window to the front of the New Avenger’s Tower. Relieved to not see any lingering cameramen. John thanked the driver and paid before practically yanking you out.

Swiftly retreating into what would now be your safe haven. His hand was firm on your wrist. Tugging you into the elevator. His hands were on your face before he could even think. Kissing you again. Both of you giggling and smiling as he pushed you back into the wall.

“Mine,” he muttered barely audible, “All mine.”

It had you trembling. The elevator stalled and you both stiffened up. Having to prepare just in case the two remaining members of your team just so happened to be in the hallway. The doors slid open and John peeked his head out. Able to hear the speakers of the television from behind Bob’s door. Ava was no where in sight. Given, she could be basically anywhere she wanted in an instant.

He reached his hand back to you, pushing his finger to his lips as he guided you out. Both your far too fancy shoes clicked against the waxed floor. Traversing the dark hall, your end goal basically in your grasp. You both held your breath when you reached his door. Binging of the keypad made him cringe, like someone was blaring an airhorn in this silence.

The door breathed open. Giddily, John allowed you to step inside first. Making sure to lock the door behind you both. It was dark. Moonlight beaming through the far too tall transom window above his bedside. Stars barely visual from the light pollution of the city. His room was well kept. Bed made perfectly. Not a single piece of discarded clothing to be found. Not surprising for the veteran, that boot camp spirit still resided in his chest.

“Finally alone,” his voice echoed off the heightened walls. Hands outlining the curves of your figure. Coming up to grope at your breast, your back pressed perfectly against him. Greedy lips kissed up the back of your neck. You shivered.

“I’ve wanted to tear this dress off you since I first saw you today,” John growled in your ear as his hands crinkled the fabric between them. You leaned further into him, arching your ass so that it pressed firmly into his groin. His hands began to pull the zipper down your back. Exposing your bare skin to the chill of his room. Starting to push it off your shoulder when you spun around to stop him.

“Eager, eager,” you chastised with a grin.

John’s brows bounced up his forehead as he stared at your chest. Loose dress slipping to reveal more of your breast, barely teasing at your nipples.

“Can you blame me? I’ve had to watch you flaunt around all night. Rubbing your hands all over me in the limou then flirting with Bucky right in front of me? You’re a goddamn tease,” John snickered, hint of jealousy spitting with his words.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you squeezed your arms together at your front so that your breasts pressed together, faming ignorance. The fabric of your dress was barely holding on at the curve of your chest. John’s eyes could not leave the temptation. Swearing that if he stared hard enough all your clothes would fly off.

You stepped and grabbed at his suit jacket. Trailing gentle digits up it and beginning to edge it off his shoulders, “How can you call me a tease when you’re dressed like… this.”

John’s head fell to the side, sizing you up. Expression flat and eyes analytical. Shining in the reflection of the moon. Lips sealed fighting off the smile that wanted to creep across his face. Cocky eyes urging you to continued.

“Shirt unbuttoned showing off your chest,” you opened his jacket, “Stupid fucking dog tags that you knew I’d see.”

You had made an offhand comment once about them dangling in your face as he fucked you… a joke, or atleast at the time what you thought was a joke.

John shedded the overcoat into the floor. Muscles bulging against the size-too-small black button down. Plush bit of his tummy pressing against the bottom buttons. Still fit, just more of a dad bod than his active days in the military. Slow and sensually, he undid his buttons. One by one. Painstakingly slow and taunting. Revealing his chest that was decorated in unkempt hair. Freckles and scars. Chain dangling along his clavicle. He looked fucking delicious.

You gawked at him. Eyes raking down and landing on the bulge in his dress pants. John snapped his fingers, pointing them to his eyes, “Your turn.”

Rushing to your core. His demanding side turning you on more than you ever thought it would. You needed him. Desire to please him filling every bit of your being. You slowly began rolling your dress off your shoulders. Just before your bare breasts were revealed, you turned your back to him. Sliding it off so that your entire back was visible. Fancy fabric pooling around your ankles, revealing the lace thong you wore.

John grunted in disapproval and arousal. Eyes raking down the curve of your ass. Beautifully accented by the lace. You looked over your shoulder at him, lip pulled between your teeth. Grin pulling at the corners of your lips. Darkened pupils locked harshly on the sides of your rear spilling out the sides of your panties. Jumping up to meet yours, eyebrow arched.

His shoes clicked against the floor as he walked over to you. Harsh hands pushed you forward. Your front slamming into the mattress. Back arching off it. Soft linens adorned its top. You were shocked at the sheer force he used against you. Calloused digits ghosted down your sides, digging firmly into the dips of your hips. A growl escaping his throat as he massaged the tender and plump flesh, “Always a fucking tease with you.”

You gasped when he planted a firm smack to your skin. The crack echoes across the walls reverberating in your core. You whined. Arching yourself further into his touch. Hands became kind suddenly when he rubbed them against the red forming mark. Outlining the whale tail at your lower back. Stretching the lace with one finger, hooking around to begin pulling it down. Losing patience and ripping them effortlessly.

Cold air fanned over your core. Causing your throbbing cunt to pulse around nothing for a moment. Needing his touch more than you realized when you felt how slick your folds were. You squirmed trying to urge him into touching you, earning yourself a click of his tongue. Your breasts pressed into the soft duvet, nipples hardening as you rubbed against it.

“What is it, baby? Wanting me to touch you? Huh?” one of his hands turned and cascaded down the curve of your cheek. Fingertips nearly touching your puffy lips. His hint of mockery had you gasping for air. Needing him.

“Please John,” you practically whimpered.

“Pretty when you’re this desperate,” he slid one finger through your lips. Coating himself in your juices as it coaxed up to your nub. Circling it slow with hardly any pressure. It was nearly painful. Your hips bucked and your lungs tightened.

You felt him lean over your back. His bare front tickling your now sweat ridden skin as he planted a kiss on your shoulder blade. Then the middle of your spine. Then your lower back. Then your ass cheek. Creeping his way down to where he wanted to devour you. Imagining you would taste like heaven wrapped in a beautiful little bow. Gifted to him like he had finally earned it. A break of some kind. His leg up on his fellow super soldier. It was finally his chance to be happy.

Abruptly, a finger pushed between your folds. Sinking itself halfway into your hole. You called out. His name a prayer that had been withheld from you for so long. It made him gleam.

His other hand flattened against your stomach, pushing you into a more angled arch. Ass in the air and pussy lips directly in front of his foaming mouth. He was drooling at the sight. Pretty and needy, just how he imagined you would be. He cooed your name before lapping into you.

Relentless assault of his tongue had you shifting and almost crying from how good he felt. His finger circled your clit as he pistoned his tongue in and out of your hole. Tasting as sweet as honey. The finest delicacy he had ever had the honor of feasting on.

And he was good. Almost too good. Like he already knew the ins-and-outs of your body. The way the slow drag of his finger made you tense and near your orgasm. It had been some time since you were able to find release. Too busy to even begin to think of touching yourself.

John was panting as he continued to work you. Groaning and huffing, sounds growing sloppy as you coated his face. Chasing your high. Walls beginning to tense up.

“You gonna cum on my tongue?”

“Uh-huh—“ you called out with a cry.

“Think Bucky could ever make you feel this good?” John growled between your legs.

You shook your head profusely. Tears welling at the corners of your eyes.

“Say it,” his deep voice boomed through your body.

“No, John. Only you,” you whined. Grinding against his mouth to get closer and closer to sweet bliss. Repeating yourself half coherently as you squinted your eyes.

“That’s it,” John praised, “Give it all to me.”

Air was a faltering force. White lights flashed behind your eyes as you came on his face. Pushing yourself back against his mouth. His beard scraping along you perfectly as he forced his tongue as deep as possible. Mumbling and groaning as you contorted around him. Thighs and calves shaking uncontrollably.

You fell forward. Huffing desperately. Difficult to control your body as it started to come down from its high. “So fucking good, John,” you whispered breathlessly.

It flowed straight to his cock. His mouth wet from devouring you. Wiping himself off on the back of his hand. Wicked grin behind you hidden. You were already drunk in ecstasy. It made him excited. The way his finger was slick with your remnant. The way his name barely mixed with your labored breaths. The way your body tingled and twitched. He was losing himself to it all.

After cleaning his finger off with his tongue, he tenderly patted your side. Understanding your brain was mush by now. Helping you flip onto your back. Hooded eyes stared up at him. Teetering on the line of slumber simply from how good it all felt.

John looked like a man who had just won a race. Shoulders rising and falling rapidly. A glint in his eyes like he was being handed over the grand prize.

You were his trophy.

How you spread your legs to welcome his body between them. Your arms barely reaching out to him, begging for his weight on yours. He snickered at your limp body. “One orgasm and you’re already begging for more?”

You puckered your bottom lip at him. Doeing your eyes up at him with a slight tilt of your head. His stomach twisted. Knowing you were one of the strongest people he knew. Knowing you took shit from no one. He had seen you kick the asses of enemies more times than he could count, just for you to smile at him right after. So to see you so small and needy below him… it awoke something inside him.

John rose to his full height. Finally throwing his dress shirt off his body. Quick to whip his belt from his hips and throw it onto the floor. His pants following suite. Cock straining against the thin elastic fabric of his boxer-briefs. Thick. Curved into his thigh. No other distinguishable features… yet.

He was fit. Thighs and stomach bulging with strong muscles. Arms an obvious muscular asset. Gorgeous. Handsome. Knowing he must have been crowned the Prom King his Senior Year. Every girl would’ve had a crush on him.

“John,” you swooned, “You are so pretty.”

His face flushed at the blunt compliment. All your previous cryptic comments and personality gone. Throwing everything on the table, damn the consequences.

He grinned as he crawled between your legs. Arms framing beside your ribcage, lips falling against your collar. “Yeah? That’s something coming from the Gala’s Favorite Avenger,” he kissed up your neck.

You were growing antsy. Needing to see, and feel, his cock. You had danced around each other for too long. Your patience was gone.

“I need it,” you whined rolling your hips upward.

John’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at you. Cockiness on his brow as he showed off perfect teeth. “Hmmm,” he started, “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Need what exactly?”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

John laughed at your break. Frustration building up inside you like pressure inside a slow cooker. Kissing you once more as he crawled higher, his nose hovering above yours.

You clawed up at him. Nails scratching down his hairy chest. His eyes fell closed, savoring the nice sting. He was enamored by any and everything you did. You were his.

“Is that what you want?”

You suddenly became embarrassed under his strong gaze. Turning your head to avoid his eyes. John chuckled, hand coming up to pinch your chin between tight fingers. Forcing you to look up at him. Smug, and ungodly handsome.

“Don’t act like you have a problem talking,” he smirked.

“I hate you,” you scowled.

“I know, I know. That’s why you’re cumming on my face, right? Why you think I’m so pretty?”

Your hands framed his face, trying to force an intimidating expression. Losing it when his eyes softened as they looked into yours. Smiling like you were the love of his life. Like there was nothing else in the world but you. And it made you shift.

Pulling his lips down to meet yours, “Please. I want to feel you, John.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” John smiled, breath fanning down your face at the confession. He was quick to force his underwear off his body. Cock lewdly smacking against his stomach. Tip flushed red and swollen, a thick vein running around it. Gorgeous. Every fucking inch of him was.

He framed his cock with his hand, hooking one of your legs around his hip. Lining up with your entrance. Looking up at your face once more, “You… want this, right?”

“More than anything,” you knocked away his insecurity.

The corner of his mouth curved for only a moment. Pushing only the head in. Steadying himself. Eyes squinting shut as his brows knitted in thought. Concentration. He would not last long inside you.

Slowly, he pulled back and pushed back in. Taking a few thrusts for you to adjust to him. His hips laid against yours. Heavy balls cradled against your ass. His jaw twitched as he stared in your eyes. You both were breathing with your mouths open.

He began a slow paced rhythm. Not long until his more aggressive urges took over. Slamming into you over and over again. His head craned to watch how your hole welcomed him over and over. Perfect. Designed by God just for him.

He lowered himself, arching an arm around you and pulling you to his chest. Hitting inside you with a new angle. Grunting in your ear with every move of hips. Kissing the side of your face, “Perfect. Fits me perfectly, Y/N.”

You whined his name. Nails close to breaking the skin of his hard back. A secondary wave approaching you, “J-John— I’m gonna cum.”

“I can feel it, baby. Me too,” he admitted. Hips growing erratic and messy. Just chasing that sweet spot inside you. The tip of his cock would bump your cervix occasionally. Sending electrical shocks throughout you. You dug your heels into his back, kissing him with a loud moan.

You came unraveled around him once more. Walls tightening around his cock, pushing him over his own edge. He groaned as he forced his hips flush with yours. Shooting white hot seed as deep into your womb as you would allow it. Almost like finally claiming you as his and his alone. Swearing there was an admission of something more that escaped under his breath. Not that you would acknowledge it.

John slumped against you. Sweat sticking your bodies together. Cock slowly softening inside your walls. The occasional aftershock causing him to want to stay inside you forever. He rolled over, pulling you with him. You both winced as he slipped out.

Comforting, familiar silence filled the space. You nuzzled up beside him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you circled a nail around his bare chest. Tickling the hair that decorated along it. Watching how his chest rapidly rose and fell. Stamina higher than a standard man, but still he got winded.

“Did you… really knock those guys out just for me?”

John’s muscles tensed up. Leaning to look at you. Your eyes were dewy and wide. Convincing yourself there had to be another reason for his actions. Maybe they said something about his ex-wife. Maybe they were dogging him for being an absent father. Maybe—

“Of course I did,” John breathed out.

Your face heated up. Eyebrows rising at his admission. Lips parting as you looked at him in awe. He smiled softly, hooded eyes gazing longingly into yours.

John leaned and placed a kiss against your head, “No one talks to my girl like that.”

You pushed yourself up to kiss his cheek.

Your knight in shining armor.

~~~

*Bonus*

Ava smirked as she watched you and John stumble into his bedroom. Trying to stay quiet, but it did not matter for her. She was able to keep quieter than anyone else. Which was how she hid at the end of the hallway where neither of you noticed her. Perks of her rather painful powers.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket, quickly texting Yelena, ‘Romeo and Juliet just got back.’

Yelena only responded with several question marks.

‘Paris still there with you?’ referring to the Shakespearean tragedy.

Yelena looked around. Realizing you had vanished after becoming the star of the dance floor. Noting how Bucky was still here, but John was not. Quickly putting the pieces of Ava’s cryptic joke together.

‘Y/N AND JOHN?!?!’ Yelena typed out with wide eyes.

Ava simply responded with a thumbs up. Giggling to herself as she phased back into the living room to text her friend until she returned. She would be lying if she said she had not been Team Walker for you.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I know I went heavy into detail with this one, but I just love the idea of two guys fighter over Reader when she only has feelings for one of them. I think John and Bucky are two of the most complex characters we have, so I enjoy writing for them both. I look forward to writing more. As always, my inbox is always open. Send me requests, questions, or anything else you wanna! Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! Love ya //

{tags}

@puppygar ~ @somemadart ~ @person-005 ~ @witchygagirl ~ @illyrianbrat ~ @fire-joestar ~ @imtherain ~

#john walker #john walker x reader #john f walker #u.s. agent #us agent x reader #new avengers #thunderbolts #thunderbolts x reader #sexymonsterfics #fanfic #wyatt russell #wyatt russell x reader

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therogueflame · 3 months ago

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hi my little freaks and geeks!

here is the long awaited aemond x little sister!reader x aegon I promised ages ago. The original request doesn't ask for aegon but like..its set in a brotherl. bffr.

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Summary: You weren’t supposed to stay. But when lines blur and hands linger, silence becomes something else entirely.

WC: 6.0k

Warnings: 18+, hard smut (p in v, oral m!recieving, fingering, threesome, creampie, facial), targcest, drunk and disorderly, a lil bit of fluff at the end, no description of reader, no use of y/n

Aemond Targaryen x Little Sister!Reader x Aegon II Targaryen

MDNI!!!

You were always just a step behind Aemond. Before he had a sword, before he lost his eye, before you knew how to keep your head down when Aegon was in one of his moods. You would cling to the edge of Aemond’s tunic, small fingers curled tight in the fabric, too afraid to let go. He never asked you to. He rarely said anything at all, but he let you trail behind him through the halls and gardens and courtyards, never once leaving you behind, never once telling you no. You didn’t understand why Aegon’s laughter made your stomach twist, or why Helaena grew quiet when he entered a room. You just knew that being near Aemond felt safer than being alone. So you stayed close. You still do.

You didn’t know why you were afraid. Not really. You only knew Aegon’s laughter made your stomach twist. That his games never felt like games. That Helaena never laughed during them. But Aemond never hurt you. He never teased, never pulled away, not even when you cried. He didn’t say much back then. He still doesn’t.

Now you’re older. The court sees you as grown. Your dresses are nicer. You’ve learned to speak only when spoken to. But none of that has changed the way you watch him. He spends most of his days training or reading. Sometimes you find him with his dragon, sometimes in the library. You don’t always speak. You just sit nearby. He lets you.

That afternoon, you catch him alone in the library. He stands with his back to you, head bent over a scroll. One hand braces the edge of the table. His hair slips forward with the angle. He doesn’t look up.

“You’re following me again.”

You smile. “You noticed.”

He exhales. “You’re not subtle.”

You step into the room. “You didn’t tell me to leave.”

“I don’t have to.”

You still cross the room. You still sit down across from him, hands folded neatly in your lap.

He keeps reading. You watch him. You don’t say anything else.

You don’t leave when he sighs. You’ve learned to tell the difference between when Aemond wants to be alone and when he just thinks he should be. This is the second kind.

He reads. You sit. The quiet settles between you like it always does.

Eventually, he speaks again. “Did Mother send you?”

You shake your head. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”

That makes him glance up. Only briefly.

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“No.”

He looks back at the scroll.

You don’t ask what he’s reading. You never do. You just watch his fingers move as he turns the page. His rings catch the light. His nails are clean and neat, like always. You used to hold his hand when you were little. Now you just look at them. The fire crackles in the hearth. Outside, the wind howls along the stones.

“You’re not afraid of him anymore?” he asks, eyes still down.

You don’t ask who he means.

“No,” you lie.

He nods once, but doesn’t believe you. Later, when you’re leaving the library, you see Aegon at the end of the corridor. He’s half in shadow, leaning against the wall like he’s been waiting. His cup is empty. He watches you walk past.

“You’re always trailing after him,” he says. “Like a dog.”

You don’t answer.

“Does he even look at you?” Aegon grins. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “He’s always reading or sulking. Doesn’t seem like much fun.”

You keep walking.

“I’d look at you,” he calls after you. “Properly.”

You don’t stop.

That night, you don’t sleep. You wait until the halls go still. When the torches burn low and the servants are gone. You’re not sure what you expect when you slip out of your chambers. Only that you’re used to following him. You’ve done it before. He never notices.

But this time, he moves quickly. Quiet. Through side halls, out into the city. You stay back, careful, steps silent against the cold stone. He doesn’t go to the library. He doesn’t go to the dragonpit. He disappears into the dark.

The brothel smells like wine and incense and heat. The kind that clings to your skin and settles in your lungs, thick and cloying. The lighting is dim, all soft candles and red drapery, the walls close and heavy with smoke. Laughter drifts through the space, slow and indulgent, layered with something sharp underneath. You slip in through the side, heart already pounding, the velvet curtain brushing your shoulder as you ease into the shadows. You shouldn’t be here. You know that. But you keep going anyway.

You see him almost right away. Aemond sits toward the center of the room, half-lit by candlelight, a woman in his lap like she’s always belonged there. Her dress has slipped off one shoulder, her fingers are spread across his chest, and her mouth presses to the side of his neck, slow and familiar. His hand rests on her thigh. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. He just sits there, silent and still, letting her touch him like she’s done it a hundred times. His expression doesn’t change. He looks cold, distant, completely unreachable. But he’s here. And he let her.

You stay where you are, quiet and out of view, too stunned to look away. It isn’t that he’s smiling. It’s that he isn’t. And still, he doesn’t stop her.

Then you hear it—too close, too loud. “Gods. You really are obsessed with him.”

You turn fast, but Aegon’s already there. He sways where he stands, cup in one hand, the smell of wine rolling off him like rot. His eyes are red and unfocused, and his grin is wide, mean, and far too pleased with itself. His tunic hangs open, and there’s something sticky on his collar. You don’t want to know what it is.

“Didn’t think I’d find you here,” he says, already talking over himself, voice raised far too loud for how close he is. “Little sneak, following big brother through the streets like a stray. Look at you.” He laughs, open-mouthed and wet. You try to step back, but he’s already throwing an arm around your shoulders like you’re in on the joke. His breath hits your face, hot and sharp with wine. “You thought he was different, didn’t you? All dutiful and noble and above it. And now you’re watching him let some whore suck bruises into his neck.”

You try to pull away, but he’s stronger than he looks when he’s drunk, all dead weight and heavy limbs. He steers you forward so you're angled toward the room again, so you have to see. “Go on,” he says, voice rising, “have a good look. She’s got her hands down his breeches and you’re standing here like a kicked dog. What did you think would happen?”

A few heads turn. You wish the floor would open up beneath you. Aegon tips his cup back and spills half of it down his front, unbothered. “You follow him everywhere, all moon-eyed and quiet like he’s your knight in shining armor. But here he is, fucking some common cunt like you don’t exist.” He chuckles again, slurring now. “Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe that’s the problem.”

You try again to twist out of his grip, but he just laughs harder, keeping you pressed to his side. “Don’t tell me this was the plan. You came here hoping for this, didn’t you? Thought if you caught him like this, he’d finally see you.” His hand slips lower, not quite indecent, but close enough that you flinch. “Bet you want him to touch you like that. Want to know what it feels like. And now you do, don’t you?”

That’s when the silence hits. Aegon goes still. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing. Across the room, Aemond has lifted his head. He’s looking right at you. Not at Aegon. Not at the woman still curled against him.

You.

His gaze moves lower—to Aegon’s hand, his arm around your waist, the way you’re held there like something cornered.

Aemond is on his feet before the room can breathe.

The woman in his lap stumbles back, her voice catching in her throat as she reaches for him, but he doesn’t spare her a glance. He brushes her off like she was never there. His eyes are on Aegon, and they don’t move. Not once.

Aegon lets go of you with a laugh that’s too loud, too pleased with itself. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, wine sloshing down his sleeve. “There he is,” he says. “Didn’t think you’d mind. She’s not a child anymore.”

Aemond doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. He crosses the room in four slow steps. Grabs Aegon by the front of his tunic and slams him back against the nearest wall hard enough to make the plaster crack. The wine cup hits the floor and rolls away. No one in the brothel moves. No one dares.

Aegon just grins. His breath is unsteady now, but he still talks. “You gonna hit me, little brother? Over her? Thought you were the one who didn’t want her.”

Still nothing from Aemond. His hand stays tight in Aegon’s collar. His shoulders don’t move. The silence stretches. Then he turns to look at you. And something changes.

You don’t speak. You don’t breathe. You only meet his eyes. You expect anger, or disappointment, or something colder. What you find is worse. It's unreadable. Aemond holds your gaze like he’s waiting for something. Maybe permission. Maybe a reason not to tear the room apart.

“She followed you,” Aegon says, his voice lower now. “All the way here. Watched you like it hurt her. Maybe she wanted to see it. Maybe she liked it.”

His eyes slide to you. His grin never fades.

“Didn’t you, sweet thing?”

Your mouth opens. Closes. No sound comes. Aemond turns back to Aegon. His grip shifts, sliding higher, fingers curling tight at the base of his throat. He doesn’t squeeze. Not yet.

“She’s not yours,” Aegon says, voice rough. “Not unless you take her.”

Aemond lets go.

Aegon stumbles forward, catching himself on the table. There’s laughter in his breath, but it’s quieter now. You feel the shift as it settles around the three of you, thick as smoke. Aemond doesn’t look at Aegon again. His attention is on you. He steps toward you slowly. No anger in his expression. No rush. Just something dark behind his eyes that you can’t quite name.

He stops in front of you, close enough to touch. You can feel the heat coming off him, the tension coiled in every part of him.

“Is this what you want?” he asks. “Tell me.”

Behind him, Aegon laughs again, softer this time. “Maybe she wants both.”

Your breath catches. You don’t answer right away, not because you don’t know what you want, but because the words won’t come. Aemond is too close. You can feel the heat of him, the strain in his shoulders, the way he’s holding back like touching you would mean something he couldn’t undo. His eyes don’t leave yours. He’s waiting. Not impatient. Not pleading. Just still. Watching. His hand hovers at your waist but doesn’t settle. Not yet.

You nod. It’s small. Barely there. But it’s enough.

His fingers brush your side. Just the tips. You feel the breath go out of him, soft and steady, and when he leans in, it’s not rough. It’s careful. His forehead rests against yours like he’s grounding himself. Like he’s making sure. Behind him, Aegon laughs again. Low, amused. He sinks into a chair like he’s settling in to watch something he’s already seen coming.

“I told you,” he says. “She came all this way.”

Your eyes slip shut as his hand rises to your face, fingers curling at your jaw, thumb brushing slow across the corner of your mouth. He doesn’t look gentle, not the way he’s holding himself so tightly, but the way he touches you is measured, precise, like he’s memorizing each point of contact before it even settles. You open your eyes again, and his gaze is already waiting for you, steady and unreadable. He doesn’t speak. He just leans in and kisses you.

His mouth is warm against yours, steady and sure, like he's been waiting for this. Like he's thought about it before. You reach for his shoulders without meaning to, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and he makes a sound in the back of his throat that you feel more than hear. The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, his hand sliding back to cradle your head, to hold you where he wants you. There's nothing rushed about it. Nothing desperate. Just the careful press of his lips, the heat of his palm at your waist, the way his breath catches when you lean into him.

The room around you blurs. The sounds of the brothel fade to nothing, and all you can feel is Aemond—his breath, his hands, the steady beat of his heart under your palm. The kiss grows deeper, hungrier, his fingers tightening in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back. When he finally breaks away, you're both breathing harder. His eyes search yours, still careful, still measuring every reaction.

Aegon shifts in his chair, restless and amused. "Don't stop on my account," he says, reaching for another cup of wine from a passing servant. "It's about time someone showed her what she's been missing."

Aemond doesn't look at his brother. His eyes never leave yours, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his breath warm against your skin. Without warning, he takes your hand and pulls you toward the back of the brothel, through the velvet curtains and down a narrow hallway lined with doors. You follow without hesitation, your pulse racing beneath your skin.

Behind you, Aegon's chair scrapes against the floor. You hear his footsteps, uneven but determined, trailing after you. Your stomach twists with something like anticipation, like fear, but Aemond's grip on your hand is firm and certain.

He chooses a door at the end of the hall, pushing it open to reveal a small room with a large bed draped in crimson silk. A single candle burns on a bedside table, casting long shadows across the walls.

Aemond pulls you inside, his movements fluid and deliberate. You expect him to stop Aegon, to shut the door in his face, but he doesn't. Instead, he watches as his brother stumbles in after you, that same knowing smile still playing on his lips.

"You don't have to do this," Aemond says to you, voice low enough that only you can hear. His thumb traces circles against your wrist, a steady, grounding pressure. "We can leave."

You look between them—Aemond with his controlled intensity, his careful restraint; Aegon lounging against the doorframe, all loose limbs and predatory amusement. You should feel afraid. You should want to run. But instead, you feel something molten and dangerous unfurling within you.

"I want to stay," you whisper, and Aemond's pupils dilate slightly.

He nods once, a barely perceptible movement, and then his hand is at your waist again, steadier now, more certain. Aegon's presence fills the doorway, his shadow stretching long across the floor. You feel trapped between them, but not in a way that frightens you. It's something else entirely—a tension that pulls taut across your skin, that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"Tell me what you want," Aemond says again, his voice low and measured. His thumb brushes against your hip, a small circle that sends heat spiraling through you.

Before you can answer, Aegon laughs softly, pushing himself away from the doorframe. "She wants what everyone wants," he says, moving closer. "To be seen. To be touched." His gaze slides over you, hungry and amused. "To feel something."

Aemond's eyes narrow at his brother's words, but he doesn't contradict them. Instead, he watches your face carefully, reading every flicker of emotion. His hand remains steady at your waist, warm and grounding.

"Is that what you want?" he asks you, his voice so low it's almost a whisper.

You nod, unable to find your voice. Your skin feels too tight, too hot. You've spent years trailing behind him, watching from a distance, and now he's looking at you—really looking—with an intensity that makes your knees weak. Aegon moves closer, circling around until he stands behind you. You feel the heat of him at your back, not quite touching but close enough that his breath stirs the hair at the nape of your neck. Aemond's jaw tightens, but he doesn't step away.

After all those years, there’s something almost intimate in the sound of Aegon’s voice. He’s behind you now, close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, the way it sinks into your skin and lingers. One of his hands rests at your waist, fingers spreading lightly, not holding but not letting go either. You don’t lean away.

Aemond is still in front of you, close enough that the space between your bodies feels more imagined than real. He doesn’t look at his brother. He only looks at you, eyes locked to yours, sharp and unreadable, like he’s waiting for something you haven’t said yet. Your breath catches. The heat from both of them settles around you, pressing in from either side, leaving nowhere to go but still.

Aegon shifts behind you, slow and steady, the curve of his chest brushing your back. His voice is lower now, all warmth and wine, curling soft against your ear.

“Let her speak,” he says. “She came here for something.”

You feel Aemond’s gaze drop, just for a moment, like he’s following the path of Aegon’s hand. The tension in him doesn’t ease. If anything, it sharpens.

"I want this," you say, your voice barely audible even in the quiet room. "I want..." You trail off, not sure how to name the feeling that's been building inside you for years.

"Show her," Aegon says to Aemond, his voice a low purr against your ear. "She's been watching you long enough."

Aemond's hand slides up from your waist, tracing the curve of your side, your shoulder, until his fingers curl around the back of your neck. His touch is firm but gentle, holding you steady as he leans in. This kiss is different from the first—deeper, hungrier, with none of the careful restraint. You gasp against his mouth, and he swallows the sound, pulling you closer until your bodies press together.

Behind you, Aegon's hands settle more firmly on your hips.

Aemond doesn't push you away, doesn't try to separate you from his brother. Instead, his fingers tighten in your hair as Aegon's hands begin to wander, sliding around to your stomach, pulling you back against him while Aemond keeps kissing you. You're caught between them, Aemond's mouth hot and demanding against yours, Aegon's body solid behind you. The room spins slightly, and you're not sure if it's from the lack of air or the realization that this is happening—that both princes have their hands on you, that neither is pulling away.

"She likes it," Aegon murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck. "Look at her."

Aemond breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with something you've never seen in him before. He studies your face, searching for any sign of hesitation, of fear. He finds none. Your lips are parted, your cheeks flushed, your eyes glazed with want. You reach for him, fingers curling into his shirt, and he lets out a sound that's almost pained.

"Please," you whisper, not sure what you're asking for, only that you need more—more of his hands on you, more of his mouth, more of this feeling that's threatening to consume you from the inside out.

Aegon's hands drift higher, brushing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch teasing and deliberate. "She's begging already," he murmurs, his lips trailing along the curve of your shoulder. "And we've barely started."

Aemond's jaw tightens, but there's something else in his expression now—a heat that matches your own, a hunger that he's no longer trying to hide.

"Take her to the bed," Aemond says, his voice rough with restraint. It's not a command for you, but for Aegon. His brother smiles against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there before he guides you backward, his hands firm on your waist. The backs of your knees hit the mattress and you sink down onto it, Aegon following you, his body pressing yours into the silk. His lips find your throat, your collarbone, his hands working at the laces of your dress with practiced ease. You should feel shame—this is the prince you've always feared, the one whose laughter made your stomach twist—but there's only heat now, a burning need that crowds out everything else.

Aemond watches from where he stands, his gaze tracking every movement of his brother's hands on your body. There's something dangerous in his stillness, in the controlled way he breathes. When your dress loosens and Aegon pushes it down your shoulders, exposing the thin shift beneath, Aemond's fingers curl into fists at his sides.

"Come here," you say to Aemond, your voice barely above a whisper. You reach out a hand to him, an invitation he can't refuse.

He moves forward, slow and deliberate, like a predator approaching prey. The bed dips under his weight as he kneels beside you, his gaze never leaving your face. Aegon's mouth continues its path down your throat, his fingers pushing your shift aside to expose more skin. You shiver, caught between them again, Aegon's weight pressing you down, Aemond hovering above, watching with that unreadable intensity. Aemond's hand reaches out, his fingers ghosting over your flushed cheek. The contrast is stark—Aegon all heat and urgency, Aemond measured and restrained. Yet his eyes betray him. There's hunger there, raw and undeniable.

"You shouldn't have followed me," he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear. His thumb traces your bottom lip, still swollen from his kiss.

"I always follow you," you whisper back.

Something shifts in his expression then, a crack in that careful control. He leans down, capturing your mouth again as Aegon's hands continue their exploration beneath your shift. The sensation is overwhelming—Aemond's kiss deep and consuming while Aegon's fingers trace patterns on your bare skin, pushing the fabric higher until your thighs are exposed to the cool air.

You gasp into Aemond’s mouth as Aegon's fingers slide higher, tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your back arches involuntarily, pressing you further into Aemond's kiss. He swallows the soft sound you make, his hand moving to cradle your face, holding you steady as his tongue slides against yours. The dual sensation is dizzying—Aemond's careful, consuming kiss and Aegon's bold, wandering touch.

"She's wet already," Aegon murmurs against your skin, his fingers brushing teasingly close to where heat pools between your legs. "Been wanting this for a long time, haven't you?"

Aemond breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged. His eyes meet yours, searching, questioning. You nod slightly, unable to form words. That's all he needs. His hand slides down your throat, your collarbone, pushing aside the thin fabric of your shift to expose your breast to the cool air of the room. Aegon's lips immediately find the newly exposed skin, his tongue circling your nipple as his fingers finally brush against your core, drawing a gasping moan from your throat.

Aemond watches your face intently, cataloging every reaction, every flicker of pleasure that crosses your features. His hand covers your other breast, thumb grazing over the hardened peak in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation of both brothers touching you simultaneously sends waves of heat through your body, pooling low in your belly and between your thighs.

"You're beautiful like this," Aemond murmurs, his voice deeper than you've ever heard it, rough with something he's no longer trying to hide. His eyes track your every reaction as Aegon's fingers slip inside you, drawing another gasp from your lips. You reach for Aemond instinctively, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

"She wants more," Aegon says, his voice teasing but thick with desire. Your shift is pushed up to your waist now, bunched around your hips as Aegon positions himself between your thighs. He looks up at you, a wicked smile playing on his lips as his fingers continue their slow, torturous exploration.

"Please," you whisper, the word half-plea, half-demand. You're not sure what you're asking for—just that you need more, need everything they're willing to give you.

Aemond's expression darkens at your desperation. His hand slides from your breast to your throat, fingers spreading wide, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse jump beneath his palm. The gesture is possessive, commanding, so unlike the boy who let you follow him silently through corridors. His thumb traces your jawline as he watches Aegon's fingers working between your thighs.

Aemond begins to untie his breeches, his movements unhurried despite the tension visible in every line of his body. Aegon watches his brother with amusement dancing in his eyes, his fingers still working inside you, drawing soft, desperate sounds from your throat.

"Never thought I'd see you share," Aegon says, his voice rough with desire.

Aemond doesn't answer. He doesn't need to. His eyes meet yours as he frees himself from his breeches, his length hard and straining against his palm. Your breath catches at the sight of him, at the controlled hunger in his expression. He moves closer, until his face is hovering above yours, his breath warm against your lips.

"Show me," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Show me what you want."

You reach for him without hesitation, fingers curling around his length, and the sound he makes is almost pained—a sharp intake of breath that catches in his throat. His eyes close briefly, jaw tight with restraint, before they open again, darker than before. Your touch is tentative at first, exploratory, but grows bolder as you watch his reaction. His hand tightens at your throat, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you of his control.

“Stand up. Both of you,” Aemond says, his voice low but steady. “I want her.”

Aegon pulls his fingers from you, slow enough to be deliberate, and you can’t stop the sound that escapes your mouth, soft and desperate. The loss of him makes you shiver. Aemond doesn’t look at him. His eyes are only on you.

“Switch,” he says, the word landing hard in the space between you. “Now.”

Aegon laughs under his breath, lazy and pleased, but he doesn’t argue. He moves around you, brushing against your shoulder as he passes, and you feel the weight of both of them shift. Aemond steps in without hesitation, his body flush with yours, his hand already rising to your throat, not tight, just enough to make you look up at him.

“You let him touch you,” he says. “Now you’ll let me.”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours. You expect him to lean in, to kiss you again, but instead his hands move fast. One curls behind your knee, the other grips your shoulder, and in a breath he flips you over, pressing your chest down against the mattress. Your cheek grazes the sheets. The sound that escapes you is soft and startled.

His hand spreads across your back, warm and steady, keeping you there. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just lets you feel the shift, the silence, the weight of him behind you.

Then, lower, rougher, right at your ear— “Stay like that.”

You nod against the sheets, unable to form words as you feel his weight shift behind you. His hands move to your hips, lifting them slightly, positioning you how he wants you. The air feels cool against your exposed skin, making you shiver with anticipation. You feel vulnerable, displayed, but there's power in it too. In the way Aemond's breath catches, in the tight grip of his fingers digging into your flesh.

Aegon settles beside your head, his back against the headboard, watching with lazy interest. His hand reaches out to brush the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with surprising gentleness.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with wine and desire. "So eager for him."

Aemond's hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs tracing the sensitive skin there. You feel him position himself behind you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. He pauses there, teasing, making you wait. Your fingers curl into the sheets, a whimper escaping your throat as you push back against him, silently begging.

"Patient," Aemond murmurs, his hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck. "Always so patient." There's something like reverence in his voice, a quiet acknowledgment of all those years you spent following him, waiting for him to see you.

When he finally pushes inside, it's with one slow, deliberate thrust that fills you completely. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, your body stretching to accommodate him. He's larger than you expected, the sensation overwhelming and perfect. He holds still once he's fully seated within you, giving you time to adjust, his breathing harsh and controlled.

"Good girl," Aegon remarks from his relaxed spot just above you. As Aemond starts moving, a flicker of envy appears in Aegon’s eyes. Shifting from his laid-back position, he lifts himself onto his knees and releases himself from his trousers. His cock stands thick and hard before him, the tip glistening with precum as he strokes himself lazily. "Open," he commands, pressing the head against your lips. You comply without hesitation, your mouth opening to accept him as Aemond continues his steady rhythm behind you.

The sensation is overwhelming. Aemond's thick length stretching you, filling you completely with each measured thrust while Aegon slides between your lips, his taste salt-sharp on your tongue. You're caught between them, used from both ends, and the realization sends a wave of heat through your core. Aemond's pace increases slightly, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks.

"That's it," Aegon murmurs, his hand tangling in your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper. "Look at her, brother. Taking both of us so well."

Aemond lets out a grunt and holds you more firmly. Aegon guides your movements with one hand on your head, while using his other hand to brush back his damp, wavy silver hair, releasing a moan in the process. Aemond watches your lips stretch around his brother's length, his eyes darkening with something primal and possessive. His rhythm falters for just a moment before he drives into you harder, deeper, drawing a muffled moan from your throat that vibrates against Aegon's cock. The sound makes Aegon hiss in pleasure, his grip tightening in your hair.

"You like this," Aemond says, his voice low and certain. It's not a question. His pace is relentless now, each thrust pushing you forward onto his brother's cock. The dual sensation is overwhelming—being filled from both ends, used and wanted by both princes. Your mind goes blank with pleasure, reduced to nothing but sensation and need.

Aegon's hips begin to move more insistently, fucking your mouth with increasing urgency. "Look at me," he commands, tugging your hair to tilt your face upward. Your eyes meet his, glazed with pleasure, and his lips curve into a satisfied smile. "Always thought you'd be good at this."

Aemond's hand slides around to find the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, circling it with practiced precision as his thrusts grow harder, more demanding. The dual sensations overwhelm you, pleasure building in waves that crash through your body with each thrust. You're suspended between them, caught in a rhythm that leaves you gasping and moaning around Aegon's length. Your fingers curl into the sheets as Aemond's skilled touch drives you higher, closer to the edge.

"She's close," Aemond observes, his voice strained with his own approaching release. His fingers move faster against you, circling with precise, relentless pressure. "I can feel it."

Aegon's grip in your hair tightens, holding you still as he thrusts deeper. "Let her come first," he says, his voice rough with desire. "Want to feel it when she does."

The permission is all you need. The pleasure crests suddenly, violently, tearing through you in waves that leave you trembling and crying out around Aegon's cock. Your walls clench around Aemond, pulsing and squeezing as you shatter beneath them. The sensation pushes Aegon over the edge, and with a guttural groan, he empties himself down your throat, his hand holding you firmly in place as he rides out his release.

Aemond's rhythm grows erratic, his fingers digging into your hips with bruising force as he chases his own pleasure. You're still trembling from your orgasm, oversensitive and overwhelmed, but the feeling of him inside you, claiming you so completely, sends aftershocks of pleasure rippling through your body. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his release hot and pulsing inside you. The sound he makes is unlike anything you've ever heard from him—raw and unguarded, a moment of perfect surrender.

Aegon's breath quickens, and his body tenses as he reaches the peak of his desire. With a final, shuddering exhale, warmth splatters across your cheeks, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. For a moment, no one moves. You're suspended between them, every nerve ending alive with sensation, your mind hazy from pleasure. Aemond's breath comes in harsh pants against your back, his forehead pressed between your shoulder blades, his fingers slowly loosening their grip on your hips. Aegon is already pulling away, tucking himself back into his breeches with practiced ease, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

"Both of you," Aemond says after a moment, his voice rough and low. "Get up."

You feel him withdraw, the sudden emptiness making you shiver. His hands remain on your hips, steadying you as you push yourself up onto trembling arms. The evidence of Aegon's pleasure still glistens on your face, and Aemond's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you—disheveled, marked, claimed by both brothers.

Aegon laughs softly, already reaching for the wine cup he'd set aside earlier. "Look at her," he says, voice thick with satisfaction. "Told you she'd want it."

Aemond doesn't respond. Instead, he reaches for a cloth by the bedside, dipping it in the basin of water before turning back to you. His movements are careful, deliberate as he cleans your face, wiping away the traces of his brother's release with surprising tenderness. There's something possessive in the gesture, in the careful way his thumb traces the curve of your cheek. Aegon watches with amused interest, sipping his wine as he leans against the headboard.

"Come here," Aemond says when he's finished, his voice softer than before. He pulls you against him, positioning you between his legs, your back to his chest. His arms wrap around you, one hand splayed across your stomach, the other curling loosely around your throat. The position is protective, possessive, a clear statement to his brother.

Aegon raises an eyebrow, that same lazy smile playing on his lips. "Marking your territory now?" he asks, swirling the wine in his cup. "A bit late for that, don't you think?"

Aemond doesn’t answer him. He leans in instead, mouth brushing the side of your neck, slow and deliberate.

“She was never yours,” he says, just loud enough for Aegon to hear.

You feel his breath at your ear, the way his grip steadies as his body settles behind yours. He holds you close, like you’re already his, like he’s done pretending otherwise. Aegon doesn’t push. He watches for a moment longer, then tips back the last of his wine and turns away. The room quiets again, but Aemond’s hand doesn’t move. It stays right where it is, fingers resting gently at your throat, his thumb tracing a slow line over your pulse.

And when he exhales, the sound is soft. Almost content.

@kckt88 @ylva-syverson @venusbyline

445 notes · View notes

noctiva · 4 months 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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