#ps kept crashing so i gave up

[sickskz]

A heart too full (of whiskey?)

Okay y’all, my first time ever writing anything for TXT 👀

So yeah, I went back and rewatched the suchwita episode with Taehyun and Yeonjun just to write a short story on it…. ❤️

Here it is, drunk Yeonjun gets sick in the car on the way back and Taehyun who does everything he can to make him feel better. God, I love drunk Yeonjun.

Ps: haven’t proof read this before posting it… hope it’s okay either way🙏🏽

Whumpee: Yeonjun

Caretaker: Taehyun

___________________________________________

They had a good time.

At least, Yeonjun was pretty sure they had a good time.

He had started off mindful of his alcohol intake, fully aware of the cameras pointed at him and his responsibility to stay somewhat composed. But as the whiskey flowed through Yeonjuns veins, his resolve all but melted away. He was accompanied by people he trusted, after all.

No matter how much he drank, his glass never seemed to empty. Someone kept refilling it, though he wasn’t entirely sure who. Was it Yoongi?

He didn’t know how much he had, all he knew was that he was drunk.

If he wasn’t already so far gone, he would be more embarrassed by the fact. Especially since Yoongi had already declared that Yeonjun held his liquor well at the start of the interview.

If a sober Yeonjun could see his currently drunk self in a third person perspective, he’d probably object to Yoongis claim before it even left his lips.

His thoughts were all blurred together, words slipping from his lips before his brain had finished putting them together to form a coherent sentence.

Yeonjun thought he was making sense for a moment, but then he quickly realised he wasn’t. Not even close. He kept starting a sentence and then forgetting whatever point he was trying to make, leaving him to stutter aimlessly.

At least Yoongi thought he was cute..

Out of the cameras view, Taehyun gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze every now and again. Partially to comfort him, but mostly to keep him awake, probably.

When Taehyun and Yoongi finally shook hands to wrap up the episode, Yeonjun couldn’t do much but try to keep himself from falling over and going to sleep right then and there. The weight of the alcohol was like a heavy fog, weighing him down and making every move feel sluggish. He watched Taehyun and Yoongi, saw their mouths move, but he couldn’t register half of what they were saying.

As the cameras finally stopped rolling, Yeonjun tipped forward, folding his arms on the table and resting his head heavily against them.

Yoongi was quick to react, reaching over the table to nudge him. “Yeonjun, you sure you’re good?” He glanced at Taehyun, who was already moving to stand from his chair with a deflated sigh.

Yeonjun made a vague attempt at nodding, though it was far from convincing. When Taehyun pulled him upright, he swayed dangerously, barely able to keep himself from slumping over again. “‘M gooood..” he slurred, head lolling to the side as he shot their senior a wobbly thumbs up. “Promise.”

“Right.” Taehyun scoffed half-heartedly, moving behind Yeonjun and steadying him by his shoulders. “Let’s get you home, hyung..”

Yeonjun wasn’t sure how it happened, but when he blinked, he was suddenly in the back of a car. He groaned, feeling his stomach churning uneasily from the gentle rocking of the vehicle.

“Hyung, are you awake?” Taehyun spoke up beside him, and Yeonjun felt a hand rub his back in a reassuring gesture.

Yeonjun squeezed his eyes shut before forcing them open again, his gaze unfocused. “I.. kinda.” He leaned back in his seat, feeling his joints cracking after being slouched over the way he had been.

Yeonjuns head felt woozy, and as he straightened his shoulders, a wave of nausea crashed over him. It hit him full force, amplifying with each and every little bump in the road.

The steady swerving of the car probably wouldn’t have been much of a problem if it wasn’t for the whiskey and food blended together to a hellish concoction in his gut.

Yeonjuns face twisted with discomfort, and he pressed a hand to his stomach in a lousy attempt to steady it. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t do much.

“-ng? Hyung? Hey-“ Taehyun had moved himself closer to Yeonjuns side, clearly sensing that something was amiss. He practically watched the colour drain from the Yeonjuns face in real time, his complexion nearly blending into the grey of his hoodie. “Are you gonna be sick?”

Yeonjun barely had time to register the question before his stomach lurched forcefully, answering it for him.

Taehyuns eyes widened in alarm, but thankfully, he was prepared. The ‘final parting gift’ from Yoongi, a plastic bag, was already in his hands, and he shoved it under Yeonjuns chin just in time to avoid a mess.

The first wave tore through Yeonjuns body recklessly, followed by another, and another...

Taehyuns grimaced, his lips pressing into a thin line as the sound of Yeonjun spilling his guts filled the car. The sharp smell of stomach acid made his eyes sting, but he exhaled through his nose and kept the bag steady.

“Aigoo” Taehyun murmured sympathetically, moving his free hand to rub soothing circles across Yeonjuns trembling neck.

A couple of minutes passed before the heaves slowed to shaky breaths. Yeonjun slumped back in his seat, his head thumping against the headrest. His arms wrapped around his midsection and he groaned softly, eyes slipping shut.

“Woow, that… sucked” he muttered, his voice a little scratchy.

So much for Yoongi making him eat more before they left, it clearly didn’t help sober him up.

Taehyun carefully tied the bag, disposing of it into a larger trash bag to deal with later. His focus quickly shifted back to Yeonjun, and his expression softened at the sight of him.

Yeonjuns eyes were bleary with tears, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. Sweat-slicked hair clung to the side of his face, a clear sign of how much effort it had taken him to purge out his stomach.

The vulnerability in his posture hit Taehyun harder than he expected, his heart clenching tightly in his chest.

For a moment, Taehyun didn’t speak, simply reaching up a hand to tenderly push a damp lock of hair behind Yeonjuns ear.

Then, he carefully slid an arm around the older mans shoulders, pulling him against his side. Yeonjun just about melted into his touch, his body going slack and his head dropping onto Taehyuns shoulder.

“It’s okay..” Taehyun murmured, feeling the slight tremble that remained in Yeonjuns shoulders. It was probably just the aftershock of the nausea or the exhaustion creeping in or-

Yeonjuns breath hitched.

Not in a way that made Taehyun particularly worried he was about to hurl again though. No, this sounded different. Softer, shakier almost.

Taehyuns expression faltered, his eyes widening as the realisation dawned on him.

Was Yeonjun… crying?

“Hey… Yeonjun-hyung” Taehyun tried cautiously, his voice gentle yet uncertain. “What’s…. What’s wrong?”

When he got no response, Taehyun leaned forward in his seat, craning his neck to try and get a glimpse of Yeonjuns face. Even in the dimly lit space, he could see the glistening tears running down his cheeks, and the way his pouty lips trembled ever so slightly.

“Hey” Taehyun called again, a little more urgency in his voice as he tightened his grip on Yeonjuns shoulder. “Talk to me.. do you feel sick? Why are you crying, Yeonjunie?”

This time, Yeonjun finally responded. He lifted his head just enough for their eyes to meet, and Taehyun was struck with the most adorably dazed, doe-eyed expression he’d ever seen.

Taehyun had to bite back a small smile, affection blooming in his chest at the sight. Yeonjun looked so completely out of it, so heartbreakingly fragile in his drunken stupor. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, the younger of the two lifted his hand again to gingerly wipe some stray tears off his hyungs cheeks.

“I-I” Yeonjun hiccuped, his lips wobbly as another broken sob tore through him. “I’m ju-just so gratefuuuuuulll.”

Yeonjuns head dropped forward without warning, and Taehyun caught it in his hand with reflexes that impressed even himself.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed against Yeonjuns head until it was propped securely back on his shoulder.

Okay. Right.

No need to panic.

Yeonjun was still just ridiculously drunk..

“This again?" Taehyun teased lightly, his lips curling into an amused smirk as his worry slowly eased away. “Junie, I thought you already emptied out your heart for MOA back with Yoongi-hyung earlier..”

“Nooo, my h-heart… my heart is s-so fuullllll” Yeonjun wailed, slinging his arm lazily over Taehyuns chest as he pressed himself closer, gripping into his shoulder like his life depended on it. “n…’tis not MOA… I-I mean, I’m.. l-love MOA, but.. I mean yoooou”

Taehyun felt his lips tug into a small smile, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise. Yeonjun had already had a rant about how grateful he was for Taehyun and his support today. Had Yeonjun really forgotten everything he had said just moments ago when they were filming the episode?

A little amused, Taehyun decided to play along. It wasn’t like Yeonjun was going to remember any of this tomorrow anyways.

“Me?” Taehyun quipped, leaning back against the headrest as Yeonjun clung to him, almost like he was afraid he’d disappear if he let go.

“Yeeaaaah, you, and-and Soooobin… Kai,-hic-Gyu…” Yeonjun continued, breath hitching incessantly with each sob. ��You-you juss..” he paused for a moment, and Taehyun almost thought he’d passed out. But then, the wailing resumed. “Taehyuniiiiieeeee, I lo-loove you so much- you’re s-so greeaaat.. p-please never leeeaaave”

Before Taehyun could process the drunken declarations, he realised that the car had come to a halt. The driver was glancing back at them with a deadpan expression, clearly unimpressed by the ridiculous scene unfolding in the backseat.

With an apologetic smile, Taehyun lifted his finger, silently signalling that he needed juuuust a moment longer to calm Yeonjun down.

“-cuz you’re all sso sweet and cjuuuute and grahsgsgh, Taehyunieeee always love meeee” Yeonjun blabbered on, his words slurring as his tears soaked into the fabric of Taehyuns shirt.

Taehyun watched him, a little dumbfounded. He really hadn't seen Yeonjun like this in quite some time.

“Hyuuung~” Taehyun cooed, the sweetness in his voice instantly silencing Yeonjuns drunken rambling. The older man blinked at him with teary eyes, waiting expectantly for him to continue.

Pft. Too easy.

Taehyun couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped past his lips. “Yeonjunie, we’re home” he said gently, his voice soft and soothing, almost as if he was speaking to a child.

Taehyun knew exactly how to reach through to a drunk Yeonjun, and sweet, tender affection was always the key.

As Yeonjuns lips started to quiver again, Taehyun quickly distracted him by poking his cheek with his finger. “Ah-ah” he smiled fondly and took Yeonjuns hand in his, preparing to open the car door.

“Let’s get inside, alright? I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

Reluctantly, but with a soft smile, Taehyun lifted Yeonjun’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against his knuckles. Yeonjuns eyes widened in awe, a dopey grin spreading across his face as though Taehyun had just saved the world with one simple gesture.

“Waaahhh…” Yeonjun sighed, staring at him with an almost childlike wonder. “Waooow…so cute.”

Taehyun chuckled, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. Yoongi was right, he was pretty damn cute.

Taehyun briefly considered what he would tell Yoongi about their journey home, what details he’d give him insight on. He definitely owed him a thank him for the quick-witted decision of bringing a plastic bag, as it spared them a bigger mess..

Tomorrow would be a fresh start, and Yeonjuns memories of the car ride would likely be wiped clean by then.

For now, Taehyun decided to take full advantage of Yeonjuns dazed and easily distracted state, just long enough to get him safely to bed for the night.

One unsteady step at a time.

[m-jelly]

Hi Jelly! I hope you have a great day! I was wondering if you can make a modern au wherein Levi is a law student while me as his roommate is an civil engineering student. For the context we’re best friend but slowly fall in love with each other. From best friend to lovers trope. I hope you’ll acknowledge this.

ps: English is not my first language sorry for the the grammatical error.

@kenkopanda-art <3

Next room

Pairing: Levi x Fem! Reader

Tags and warnings: University AU, friends to lovers, modern AU, fluff, romance.

When you live with someone as wonderful as you, Levi can't help but fall in love.

Note - The courses you're doing are not mentioned as I know the courses you have chosen are different in different countries and I don't know enough about civil engineering but I know a lot about law. Sorry!

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

Levi knew the exact moment when he fell in love with you and he would remember that for the rest of his life. You'd been friends for a few months and decided to live together to make it easy on your bank accounts. You got on well so it made sense.

You didn't invite any guys around and had no boyfriends and Levi didn't invite any women around and had no girlfriends. So, it was a peaceful apartment. You'd talk most nights, had food together and even watched the same shows. It didn't take long before you both noticed you had a lot in common.

Levi wasn't too phased when he watched you walk around the apartment with little shorts on for your PJs. He did look a bit because you were very attractive, but that was it. He always thought you looked pretty in anything you wore.

Everything about you was wonderful, but the moment he fell for you was so simple. He was having a shit day and he was on ther verge of losing it. He wanted to cry hard and hit someone, but you came along and made his day better. You gave him a cup of tea, put a blanket around him, sat close and rubbed his back. You didn't say anything for a long time, you just let him ride through his emotions. Your presence was so comforting and he knew then and there. It was like something clicked inside him.

He was in love.

He panicked at first with what to do. Levi had never been in love before but it was so moving and compelling. He wanted to act on his feelings so badly but he wasn't sure how. He asked his mother for help and his friends, all gave wonderful advice but he lacked the confidence in himself.

Levi had written so many letters that confessed everything he felt inside, but none of them were good enough. He kept working hard to make the perfect letter for you. He would stay up late planning how he would confess, but none of it was perfect like he wanted it to be.

You were the one who made him act and it was because you confessed. You came to him with tears in your eyes you kept saying sorry as if you'd done something wrong. You told him you had to move out, that you had to leave, that you needed to get away.

Levi gripped your arm tightly and stopped you from leaving him. "Why?" He clenched tighter as his heart begged you to admit you felt the same. "Why do you need to leave?"

You whimpered and gazed at him. "Because I have fallen in love with you. I fell in love the night I gave you tea, wrapped you in a blanket and sat with you. I have tried to get rid of my feelings, but it's impossible. You're so wonderful." You sobbed. "I love you, Levi Ackerman. I love you."

Levi yanked you against him, pushed his fingers into your hair and crashed his lips against yours. He tugged your lip between his teeth before pushing his tongue into your mouth. He moaned as you kissed him back with just as much passion. He held you tightly as you moaned back at him.

Levi pulled back from your lips and panted a little. "I love you." He smiled as he said your name. "I fell in love with you in that moment as well. I can be myself with you. You make me feel safe."

You smiled sweetly. "All this time?"

"Yes." He chuckled. "I've asked people for help cause I wanted to confess and I even wrote you love letters, but none of them were good."

"Really? I'd love to read them."

"They're bad."

You hummed a laugh. "They're your thoughts and feelings. Every thought and feeling you have is precious."

Levi blushed hard at your words. "Tch, damn cute brat." He sighed. "So, are you staying?"

You nodded. "I am now."

"Good."

[delicatesoundofthunderr]

Roger Waters x Reader

i wrote this because there is a lack of pf fanfics, especially roger x reader 😞

ALSO FOR MY CHARLES LECLERC GIRLIES I DID NOT FORGET YALL!!! life’s been busy but i genuinely want to continue the series. so sorry for the wait! ❤️

ps it gets a bit heated but no smut! *injuries mentioned*

•••

It was the end of another successful gig, and the spirit in the pub couldn’t be more agitated. Drinks were drunk and dances were danced, and you found yourself near the stage with some friends.

“Loved your performance, Y/N! Although,

I couldn’t fail to notice someone had a keen eye on you for the whole show...” your friend recalled, raising her brows.

“What? Who?” you question with excitement.

“Roger! He was eyeing you every second he had the chance!” your other friend beamed.

You didn’t believe a word of it. You guys had grown slightly closer over the past weeks, but his on-stage persona was something totally different.

“You’re joking… I’ll probably get a lecture soon then, he was probably annoyed by something I did.” you grunted.

“I swear I saw him smiling at you though.” your friend mumbled.

Your cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

“Right, well I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” you declared. The constant buzzing of chatter and music gave you a slight headache.

You snake through the mass of tipsy people, and see a familiar face just before reaching the exit.

Roger is interacting and laughing with a girl who doesn’t seem to fit in the friendly category. You only catch his eye when you cross the door.

You stay outside for some time, breathing in the crisp air. A recurring thought kept disturbing your calm. What could you have possibly done so wrong in your performance for Roger to look at you all night long?

Or… was it something else?

You shake your head and head back for the pub after a few minutes.

When you push the door to get back in, a newfound tension has submerged the pub.

Two men were fighting, one stubby blonde, and another tall brunette which you realized- to your great surprise- was Roger.

The moment didn’t feel real. Roger, always one to use his words and wits, now with a split lip and balled fists.

“Roger!” you yell through the crowd.

He doesn’t seem to register your voice at all with the commotion. Roger was about to throw a final punch in the man’s direction when you took him by the back of his shirt.

“Roger! You can stop now, he’s done.” you yell in anger. Roger’s eyes locked with yours, and he slowly let go of the poor lad in his hands.

Roger’s face was intact but for a split brow bone and lip. Something pulled at you to help him, and with a frustrated sigh you take his wrist and lead him through the buzzing crowd and out the pub.

“I never thought…” you fume. “We’ll go to the studio okay? It’s the nearest place.” you order with little space for arguing.

Roger simply nods, a faraway look in his eyes. You didn’t notice how tight you were holding his wrist and let go. You look back to make sure he’s still following, and much to your dismay he’s clutching his stomach.

“What is it now?” you complain.

“My ribs… They really fucking hurt.” he groans, eyes filled with fear.

You immediately walk over to him with a newfound concern, but he stops you.

“I’m fine, I don’t need help.” he states, no trace of malice in his voice.

Your heart aches more and more at his disheveled form, and as you get to the studio, you make sure to open every door for him.

He crashes down on the couch, chest rising up and down at a fast pace.

You go get the small aid kit in the bathroom alongside warm towels full of water.

Roger has one hand over his eyes and he’s muttering something under his breath.

“Remove your shirt. We’re gonna check for broken ribs first.” you command.

Roger removes his hand from his face and looks directly at you with those piercing eyes of his. He slowly rises to remove his shirt, and you can’t do anything else than look up at him from your seat, admiring his lean, sun-kissed abs. He stifles a groan as he passes his shirt over his head and throws it in the corner of the room.

You sit there for a bit, struck by his appearance. He falls back down to the couch and you follow after him.

“I’ll- I have to- I’m gonna touch your ribs.” you blurt out.

He nods through half-lidded eyes and leans back.

There’s a prominent bruise that paints his chest a purple colour, and you gently brush your fingers on it. His whole body tenses up and he sucks in a breath.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you whisper, searching for an answer in his eyes.

He looks away and ignores your question.

“Are you drunk?” you tempt, laying a cold towel on his bruise.

“No. I’ve had like half a beer.” he sighs.

You hold your hands up in confusion.

“Then I don’t get it! You never fight Roger, you never have!” you complain, shaking your head.

“I know… He just…” he trails off, playing with the hot towel on his chest.

“He just what, Roger? He made fun of the band? You? Your reputation, maybe?” you furiously dig for bandages in the kit.

Before putting the bandages on his face, you decide it’s best to clean it. You bring the towel to his brow and dab away, eyes narrowing out of concentration.

“He said something about you.” Roger mutters out, looking up at you.

Your hand drops.

“And what exactly did he say?” you ask, feeling very small all of a sudden.

“Doesn’t matter.” he mumbles, holding himself up with his hand and settling back down into a more comfortable position. He was using his elbows to prop himself up to not completely lie down on his back.

His new position forces you to almost straddle him to reach his face and dab the cloth on his bottom lip.

“I have the right to know.” you mutter, voice filled with insecurity. He gazes up at you and sighs through parted lips.

“He- Christ…” he sighs and rubs his eyes. “He called you an attention-seeking whore.” Roger mumbles, looking away from your pained expression guiltily.

You have a feeling the man might’ve said more and Roger was protecting your self-esteem, but you can’t say this is exactly new to you. Something that was new though, was someone sticking up for you.

“Still… You shouldn’t have. You don’t deserve this.” you whisper after a moment, dabbing the cloth on his bottom lip.

And you truly believed that. You didn’t think Roger should go through all that trouble just for you.

“You don’t deserve this either, and I don’t regret it. You’re worth every punch I received.” his head turns back to face you, eyes sparkling with determination.

How could he say something like this and not expect you to crumble under his gaze?

“No, you don’t mean that.” you state, eyes pleading him to tell you the truth.

Roger shuffles under you, and his eyes darken.

“I do, and I’d do it again! That prick is lucky he wasn’t-“ but you cut his words off by taking his face with your hands and kissing him.

Roger’s mouth goes slack, and it takes him a second to register everything. Then, his lips are responsive.

He uses one elbow to prop himself up, whilst his other hand has found your face. Your position was already favourable, half straddling him already.

He pulls on the back of your thigh to get you completely pressed against him, and your hands are now exploring the muscles of his arms, gripping on them tighter as Roger’s fingers find the surface of your back.

He carelessly draws patterns with his slim fingers, earning shivers from you. His thumb is carefully caressing your cheek in a soothing way.

The kiss is intense, a downpour of all past tension condensed.

His tongue is firm but doesn’t let you get overwhelmed. He lets you set the pace, which is a slow and needy one.

Your hands hesitate towards his chest, laying them gently on his bruised abs. You earn a stifled moan from his part and arch your back as you continue to gently caress his chest up and down.

Both his hands take possession of your hips, squeezing them gently. You feel him move his hips almost involuntarily under you, his member pressing up against you.

You stifle a noise at the contact and press yourself harder against him.

You finally break the kiss. You look down at his star struck grin and slightly swollen lips with a shy smile.

“You’re slightly drunk aren’t you?” Roger asks doubtfully.

“I only had a shot.” you answer truthfully.

He chuckles and lays you down, hovering over you. His eyes travel along your face, taking you all in.

“You’re so pretty,” he blurts out with a stroke of your cheek.

You look away shyly, but he makes sure to bring your face back to him with the tip of your chin.

He smiles at you like an idiot in love and plants a soft kiss on your lips.

Images of him and that girl flash through your mind and you stop him.

“Who was that girl at the pub?” you question, brows furrowing in worry.

Roger’s eyes narrow as he seems to recall his night. His brows go up at the memory.

“Who, my cousin? I don’t have any interest in her, no.” he chuckles.

You bite your lip and smile, feeling rather stupid.

“Besides, someone’s already caught my eye.” he murmured.

You grin and hold the back of his neck to bring his face down and kiss him hard.

You softly bite into his split lower lip, gaining a low groan from him. You wrap your legs around his torso and his bare chest presses softly against yours, the barrier of clothes infuriating.

The kiss is slow and passionate, but gets broken by Roger.

“My head hurts.” he mutters over your lips with closed eyes.

You immediately sit up and lay him back down on the couch. You kiss his forehead only to realize he’s a bit too warm.

You rush to the bathroom to get a cold towel and come back to Roger breathing low with closed eyes.

“Roger, he hit your head repeatedly… You might have a concussion,” you realize, brushing away the hair from his forehead to place the towel on it.

Your fingers leave his face but he’s quick to take them back in his hands.

“Can you… stay here for a bit?” he asks, the question leaving his lips like a plea.

Your eyes soften and you nod quickly.

“I think it’s best we sleep here. I don’t think walking is a good idea for you.” you ponder.

You go get him pills and a glass of water, and he drinks it slowly before placing it back down on the ground.

“I’ll just- use the couch in the other room.” you smile and make your way to it.

“Y/n.” Roger speaks.

You already know what he’s implying, but refuse to succumb to such request.

“Roger. Your ribs are bruised and your head hurts. I don’t want to bother you, so if you need me, I’ll be right there.” you state, pointing to the door.

You turn on your heels but he stops you with his words.

“I don’t think I can sleep without you in my arms after knowing how you feel against me.” he declares behind your back.

You slowly turn around, lips parted in surprise. You crack a smile, walking over to Roger and obliging to his request, settling down beside him.

He scoots over so you have space, and you lay your head on his shoulder, careful not to touch his chest.

“I’m sorry for getting mad at you.” you confess, cringing at your reaction from earlier.

He moves a lone piece of hair from your forehead and tucks it behind your ear.

“S’okay. I’m sorry for beating the shit out of that guy.” he says in return.

You fail to keep your straight face and smile.

“You should get some sleep now, if you don’t feel well just wake me up or push me off the couch, I don’t mind.” you tell him.

He smiles and shakes his head, leaning in to catch your lips in one last lingering kiss.

He wakes you up only once in the whole night, though it is involuntarily.

His arm finds your chest and he snakes it around, pulling you closer while he mutters something tired.

You sleepily smile and trace the edges of his face with gentle hands. Your fingers brush over his nose, his cheekbones, and all the way down to his soft lips.

Roger sighs and the tension in his face relaxes, whilst his breathing slows down.

You nuzzle your face in his neck and fall back asleep tight in his arms.

~

“Did anyone stay after the gig?” whispers David, looking down at you and Roger entwined and sleeping on the couch.

“I didn’t. I heard Roger fought someone though.” Rick murmurs, walking over to David. David’s eyebrows go up in a shocked expression.

“Roger… Really?” he questions.

“Jesus christ did Y/N beat up Roger and then sleep with him afterwards cause she felt bad?” adds Nick, just now entering the studio.

They all have a laugh and head over to their instruments.

•••

hope this fed you guys a little 😊

ps. the only reason he didnt take her right then and there is because in my head it was supposed to be a mini series and i made another one where they actually do it. will prolly post the rest not in chronological order but oh well.

[cesqdarque]

WIP game - Devil‘s bargain

here you go @ps-cactus 😊

I once had a serious phase in which I liked Ominis. YES - I know, unbelievable. And yet that led to the following (because I can't even bare a fictional distance to Seb. lol).

Sidenote - I wrote it as reader bc Cass would NEVER :D and the plan was to meet in the catacombs. And fight, discuss and make up for lost time, but I never got to that part as of now.

It was all over the Daily Prophet - Sebastian Sallow escaped Azkaban. He was on the run.

You found a note on your nightstand one day. You did not know how it got there. It didn't contain much words either.

"Meet me - tomorrow evening, where it all ended".

The curved cryptic lines left no doubt. You recognised his handwriting immediately, the way the initials were hastily and yet with some sort of sensitivity scribbled on the sandstone-coloured parchment. This was Sebastians doing you were sure of that.

You should have told somebody about it. But you didn't. Against all reason you kept it for yourself. You didn't even consider to tell Ominis about it. Your beloved betrothed you should add.

How did this happen? Well, you weren't entirely sure yourself. But after so many years of being close to each other things between you changed. After his parents pressuring him to marry, you were convinced there would be a much more worse fate than to marry your best friend by the time, and if only to shield him form the twisted bloodpurists views of his family. And so you simply agreed.

Plans were built and promises made. And before you'd even realised it you'd fallen for him in a way you'd never thought possible. Out of sheer comfort? Maybe, but was it wrong? To wish for a calm and comfortable love?

But maybe you got a little to comfortable?

You couldn't deny that something was missing. Sure, he held you close to his heart, gave you a safe space after all the trouble you went through in your youth. Lifted you up when life crashed you down. Shielded you from any harm that came your way. And you were infinitely grateful for the care he provided you and your troubled mind.

Whenever the ghosts of your past relentlessly hunted you in your dreams at night, he was there to sooth you. To hold you close in his arms. He'd never asked questions or pushed you to tell him anything you didn‘t felt of sharing with someone else. He‘d simply tended your wounds silently by just lying by your side when you needed him, till you were calm enough to fade away into your slumber again. And you were sure, that for most people this would have been the fundamental shores of true love. To trust and cherish each other.

But deep down between the cliffs of your heavy heart you always felt something missing. A profound lingering hidden in the shadows of your very soul. A piece long gotten lost, which yearned to be found again.

But you wouldn‘t search for it, you simply couldn‘t. The emotional turmoil almost destroyed you once and you weren‘t able to go through it again. To let the roaring ocean storm break those heavy waves against your crippling haven. You would have to simply life on as the tides of time flooded and ebbed the rocky stones for so long till the constant dripping weaved the stones. 

But what you had with Sebastian all those years ago, wasn‘t something that one just simply forget about.

It was dangerous, thrilling and mind and body consumingly exciting. As the saying goes, one never forget about his first love.

And you blamed yourself of not being able to just feed this message to the hungry flames of your fireplace. Your curiosity was always a weak spot of yours and combined with the possibility to lay your eyes on Seb again, it was a fight your mind could only loose.

[seahgreenhorn]

(via 'A Great Crash')

'A Great Crash'Lunar eclipses, blood moons for centuries inspire awe, melt hearts to creation draw; do emotions sway. Especially now-a-days bodies travel long distances to convene for these spectacles during our historic "last days": "But know this, that in the last days critical times hard to deal with will be here. For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, haughty, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, disloyal, having no natural affection, not open to any agreement, slanderers, without self-control, fierce, without love of goodness, betrayers, headstrong, puffed up with pride, lovers of pleasures rather than lovers of God, having an appearance of godliness but proving false to its power; and from these turn away." 2 Tim. 3:1-5. Also, "know this, that in the last days ridiculers will come with their ridicule, proceeding according to their own desires and saying: “Where is this promised presence of his? Why, from the day our forefathers fell asleep in death, all things are continuing exactly as they were from creation’s beginning. For they deliberately ignore this fact, that long ago there were heavens and an earth standing firmly out of water and in the midst of water by the word of God; and that by those means the world of that time suffered destruction when it was flooded with water. But by the same word the heavens and the earth that now exist are reserved for fire and are being kept until the day of judgment and of destruction of the ungodly people.” For "Jehovah’s day will come as a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar, but the elements being intensely hot will be dissolved, and earth and the works in it will be exposed. 2 Pet. 3:3-7, 10. (Earth as in people. As when: "All the earth continued to be of one language and of one set of words." Gen. 11:1.) "Look! The day of Jehovah is coming, Cruel both with fury and with burning anger, To make the land an object of horror, And to annihilate the land’s sinners from it." Isa. 13:9. "For this is what Jehovah says: “The whole land will become desolate, But I will not carry out a complete extermination." Jer. 4:27. For: "Your faithfulness is through all generations. You have firmly established the earth, so that it continues to stand." Ps. 119:90. "Listen! A report! It is coming! A great pounding from the land of the north, To make the cities of Judah desolate, a lair of jackals." "Raise a signal toward Zion. Seek shelter, and do not stand still,” For I am bringing in calamity from the north, a great crash." Jer. 10:22; 4:6. *** "“But reports out of the east and out of the north will disturb him, and he will go out in a great rage to annihilate and to devote many to destruction. And he will plant his royal tents between the grand sea and the holy mountain of Decoration; and he will come all the way to his end, and there will be no helper for him." Dan. 11:44, 45. *** "But you who suffer tribulation will be given relief along with us at the revelation of the Lord Jesus from heaven with his powerful angels in a flaming fire, as he brings vengeance on those who do not know God and those who do not obey the good news about our Lord Jesus. These very ones will undergo the judicial punishment of everlasting destruction (not eternal torment) from before the Lord and from the glory of his strength, at the time when he comes to be glorified in connection with his holy ones and to be regarded in that day with wonder among all those who exercised faith, because the witness we gave met with faith among you." 2 Thess. 1:7-10. For "there are new heavens and a new earth that we are awaiting according to his promise, and in these righteousness is to dwell." 2 Pet. 3:13. *** "He will judge the lowly with fairness, And with uprightness he will give reproof in behalf of the meek ones of the earth. He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth And put the wicked to death with the breath of his lips. Righteousness will be the belt around his waist, And faithfulness the belt of his hips." Isa. 11:4, 5. "For just as the lightning comes out of the east and shines over to the west, so the presence of the Son of man will be. Wherever the carcass is, there the eagles will be gathered together." Matt. 24:27, 28. *** "“Immediately after the tribulation of those days," "The sun will be turned into darkness and the moon into blood Before the coming of the great and awe-inspiring day of Jehovah." Joel 2:31. Yes, "the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken." Matt. 24:29. Are not international 'stars' dying and ruling 'heavens' now shaking as "all creation keeps on groaning together and being in pain together until now." As foretold about "the conclusion of the system of things?” Rom. 8:22; Matt. 24:3. Soon, the 'earth' will be quaking. . .Photo credits: https://t3.ftcdn.net/jpg/01/90/26/34/360_F_190263422_a4LRkeaJiNyHppvm8eMv3XFbIYYl7vQY.jpg https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c1/23/ed/c123edae86c37727467fe0e8b3efb885.png © 51 mins ago, Lucretia McCloud   teen • society • sad • pain • christian • death

[c-jay321]

A very late halloween izuocha thing~

[lilabard]

@booksociety’s september reading event: fantastic worlds ↳ children of blood and bone by tomi adeyemi

You crushed us to build your monarchy on the backs of our blood and bone. Your mistake wasn't keeping us alive. it was thinking we'd never fight back.

[junycng]

95′s time machine ♡

[fromis9s]

#fineapplechallenge: [2/?] favorite moments ♡ yena, jinsol & naeun visiting a university and having everyone fall in love with them

[mulderscully]

#we love character development and relationship growth

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey! Ps: love another Lie 🫶🏻 Your writing is so beautiful! I have some fiction ideas and I hope you'd like some 🥹

Imagine Charles in the middle of a race and there is a high speed crash. He's bruised and hurt and may have internal injuries but he wants to get back to the reader in the pitlane asap cause he knows the reader would lose it and as he suspects the reader is in the middle of a panic attack with everyone holding her back and on seeing him she is relieved and breaks down and he's like "you've been crying" and consoles and Hugs her in public. Ps: If you're up for it maybe it could lead to soft consoling nsfw smut?

A Little Longer

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, crash, panic attack, injuries, smut WC: 1.3k

F1 Masterlist

You only looked away for a second, but that was all it took to miss the crash.

One moment Charles was setting best sector timings, and on the way for the fastest lap, and the next his car was spinning off the track and slamming into the tecpro barrier.

A collective gasp had rippled through the garage and you had nearly broken your neck with how quick your head snapped back to the screens. For a moment you couldn’t even see him through the dust from the gravel pit he had caught the edge of. In that moment a hundred thoughts passed through your head. In that moment a thousand questions followed, growing darker and darker as everyone waited for the dust to clear.

All ability to function was erased as you remained frozen in place, eyes fixated on the screens, unblinking, waiting for any sign of movement.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think.

You hadn’t realised you were moving until Joris grabbed your arm and you found yourself under the harsh sunlight of the pit lane instead of the garage. “Let me go,” you begged with a broken voice. “I need to get to him.”

The edge of your sight was fuzzy, the images blurry as tunnel vision set in and Joris shook your shoulders. His lips were moving but no sound penetrated the noise in your head or the whoosh of your pulse that seemed to be thump in your ears.

“I need to get back to my girlfriend.”

“This is your health we are talking about, Mr Leclerc. You need to be thoroughly checked out at the medical centre.”

“Later,” Charles argued as he limped over to the motorcycle, his hand clutching his ribs. “You don’t know her, she will be worried.”

Every bump on the path sent a jolt of pain across Charles ribs and he bit back the groan that followed. He had to focus on his breathing as he ignored the crowd watching his return to the pits, he couldn’t spare a second to think about all the people he had disappointed with his crash. 

All he could think about was you.

He immediately knew he was right to worry when the motorbike puttered along the pit lane and he saw a ring of his crew trying to keep the media from seeing the scene behind them. Your cheeks were damp with your tears but your lips were cracked from the rapid breaths you were struggling to take. Joris was at your side, the relief in his eyes notable when he looked up and found Charles pushing his way through the crowd.

“Mon cœur, you’ve been crying,” Charles whispered as he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing soft kisses over your damp cheeks.

“Charles?” 

He hated how broken your voice was, broken because you had been screaming for him until your throat was raw. He held you tighter despite the protest his body made but he couldn’t stop the sharp intake he took when life returned to you and you threw your arms around his waist. 

“You’re hurt!” you gasped as you leapt back and kept him at an arms width so you could inspect him. “You should be with the medics. What if you’re bleeding internally? I can’t live without you, Char.”

He chuckled softly and cupped your face so he could silence your ramblings with a kiss. “I’ll see them soon, I just need to hold you first. Please?”

You couldn’t deny him, not when his green eyes looked so blue. Lacing your fingers with his you gave him a small nod and finally noticed where you had ended up. You couldn’t remember leaving the garage and Charles draped his arm over your shoulder, turning you back to the shelter of the garage when he saw your eyes widen in realisation.

“I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” you mumbled as he closed the door to his driver room.

“I know, mon cœur,” he replied softly as his hands ran up and down your back soothingly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your trembling fingers reached for his face, tracing the creaselines his balaclava had left over his cheeks and when his eyes fluttered shut your thumb brushed away the dust that had clung to his lashes. 

“I couldn’t see you.” His eyes opened at the sound of your voice. “It was the worst feeling in the world. I couldn’t see if you were okay or if…”

Charles chased away the lingering thought as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “I’m here, I’m here,” he reminded you as he stepped backwards, taking you with him to the couch where he sank into the soft cushions with a wince before tugging you onto his lap.

You tried to pull away as your legs settled either side of his thighs but his arms locked around your waist. “You’re hurt, baby. You need to let the medics check you.”

“Soon.” His hands followed the curve of your body until he reached the hem of your dress and they slowly began to climb once more. His palms were still warm from his gloves and the touch sent heat waves rippling across your skin as he inched higher up your thighs. “Please, let me hold you a little longer.”

It was unfair of him. Truly. He knew exactly how his touch affected you and when his thumbs teased the line of lace between your thighs you couldn’t think clearly enough to deny him. Your response was dragging the zip of his race suit down and his hands left your body only long enough to pull his sleeves down and shove the material past his waist. 

Time began to work strangely as the urgency to feel each other crashed into the need to savour the moment. Your panties were pushed aside in the rush as Charles’s strong hands guided your body down to meet his and then time slowed as you stared into the gold and green eyes of the man you loved more than anything.

Whatever he saw in your eyes made him swallow deeply and bury his face in the crook of your neck, kissing his way back to your lips where he reminded you once more, “I’m here, amour.”

You returned his kiss, combing your fingers through his hair as it deepened and your hips began to move slowly. There was an awareness of his injuries that kept you from moving any faster and after a minute Charles’ impatient hands gripped your waist and set the pace for you until you forgot about the crash completely.

“I love you, Charles,” you moaned as your core clenched around him and he stole the soft sounds with his lips as he joined you in ecstasy.

“I love you too.” He sighed contentedly as he pulled you as close as possible against him, your entire front pressed to his, but the sigh turned to a groan of pain.

“Medics, now,” you ordered as you climbed off his lap and offered your hands to pull him to his feet. “No more procrastinating.”

“What we did wasn’t procrastinating, amour,” he managed to tease as he held his rib cage with one hand while he pulled his race suit back up with the other.

You groaned and ran a hand over your face. “You’re not allowed to joke until the doctors have cleared you, Charles.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Lacing your fingers in his, he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the door. “Let’s go and ease your mind, my sweet.”

[2005noroithecurse]

꒦꒷♡ . . . HONEYMOON WEEK 𓂃 ITTO \ CERTIFIED PUSSY EATER . ·˚ ༘

♡⃕ ࣪ WARNINGS | ༝ f!reader ⸝⸝ overstim ⸝⸝ fingering ⸝⸝ possessiveness ⸝⸝ oral ⸝⸝ squirting ⸝⸝ pwp ⸝⸝ clit sucking

♡⃕ ࣪ NOTICE | welcome to day one of honeymoon week! <3 tysm again for all the luv & support on my works n I hope u guys enjoy this + what's coming up :3 ps sorry if there's errors I wrote this w my clit & im penis delirious for this man gn

♡⃕ ࣪ HONEYMOON WEEK M.LIST

You admitted it quietly one night, eyes looking anywhere but at him.

"No ones ever made me cum before," you mumbled.

"How about I be the first?" He watched your eyes widen, heart already thrumming with the thought of what it would be like to make you cum especially since he'd fantasized about you in the past always hoping you'd see more in him.

That's how you ended up here, squirming with him between your legs and his thick fingers curling against your walls, making your thighs shake. One of his hands kept a firm grip on your right thigh, keeping your legs apart while the other eagerly explored your soaked cunt.

"I bet you look so fucking cute when you're cumming," he groaned out, feeling you squeezing around his fingers. His eyes were glued to your face, obsessed with seeing every detail of your expression.

It was all you could do to moan back mindlessly, too busy being sucked down into the whirlpool of pleasure he'd throw you into. You can't believe it's only his fingers that have you feeling like you're cracking open. Looking down to see his hand working relentlessly against your pussy gave you a head rush, choking on your cries as your leg muscles tightened.

"Who else's made you feel this good, huh?" He asked, voice cracking as he felt his cock straining against his pants.

You couldn't answer, bliss as thick as honey had flooded your brain, a thick coating that blocked out anything but the pulsing of your clit. He leaned over you, making you whine at the feeling of his lips brushing against your ear.

"Who else has made you feel this good?" His whisper carried a twinge of something your fuzzy mind couldn't place.

But you made yourself slur out, "Nobody." Your nerves felt like they'd caught fire, legs jerking in his hold as you felt it crash over you, your orgasm so strong it stole the breath from your lungs. Your fingers curled against his shoulders, moans ringing sharp against the walls of the bedroom as tears washed the world around you in watercolor.

He tore his eyes away from your face to watch the wet spot beneath your ass grow, your orgasm and the way your cunt clenched making fluid seep out erratically. It was mesmerizing to watch, making his need to bury himself inside you even greater but he steeled himself. This was about you, after all. He wasn't going to be another person neglecting your wants and needs, not when he's waiting so long to have you.

You squeal as he shimmies down the bed, his hands on your hips dragging you down until his breath fans over your wet folds, making you wriggle in his hold. You'd barely come down from the first-

"Shit-" you cry out, hands frantically twisting into the sheets. The feeling of his tongue lapping against your pulsing clit makes your heart skip, Itto isn't holding back with his arm up and splaying a hand over your tummy and the other gripping your ass cheek as he tilts you upward.

He's like a man possessed, sucking on your clit and letting his tongue dance around it, ripping high pitched cries from deep inside your lungs. If you clutch the sheets any tighter surely your fingers would break, but it was the only thing anchoring you against the rolling tide.

"Fuck-", he slurs against your cunt, "you're so amazing," the muscles in your abdomen contract as he slips two fingers back inside you, tears sliding down your cheeks feeling that band of pleasure tightening again inside you.

With the rhythmic pumping of his fingers and the way he sucked on your clit that band snaps back with force, your hips jumping up wildly as fluid drenches his mouth, neck, and hands and your cries become desperate, devolving into garbled chants of his name.

With a certain hunger he licks up every bit of cum, gently licking against your spasming pussy before pulling back, your bleary eyes meeting his watching as he sucked his fingers clean.

[peaky-shelby]

hi hi hi I’ve been missing your writing a lil extra this week so I was wondering if you could give us a lil Drabble like you did after psg vs al nasr

the scenario would probably be kylian stressing out way too much and loosing confidence in himself and beating himself about it while Taylor calms him down as he’s pacing around borderline looking like he’s about to have a panic attack cuz all the pressure is on him recently (this would perfectly conincide w the fact that psg has been on a bad streak this month.) maybe a lil peak into how she’s the only one who can get him to calm down and say stuff that actually means something to him and maybe have a lil touchy moment if you’re feeling generous 🥺

ps: miss you and your writing so much I hope Uni’s going well and you’re not stressing yourself out a lot take your time we’ll be here for you 🤍

(sorry it took this long. Thank you for the love, you're amazing 💞)

New Romantics — blurb: "it's ok"

Taylor followed him in the hallways, he left without even shaking anyone's hand, pissed and angry at himself and the team. Reporters tried to stop him, to get an interview from him while walking. He almost snapped at one of them, waving his hand and almost hitting him on the face. Taylor saw that, her eyes wide open. She rushed to him and pushed him to go faster in the closest room she could find. Pushing him in and locking the door. It was one of the changing rooms. He threw his jersey on the floor, yelling words in french and cursing. She could only make out half of it and yet he kept going, having a full meltdown in front of her. And she knew he wasn't just saying random words by the way he spoke and moved his hands.

"ky-” she tried, an attempt to remind him she didn't speak the language. But he continued yelling, not at her, just at the world,just so he could get it out of his chest. She drew closer, trying to hold his arms, but he'd shake her off and keep going. She didn't have to understand the words to understand why he was that angry. The team was getting worse everyday, the bad streak getting longer.

Her eyes followed his, darting left and right, trying to make eye contact while her hands reached for the hem of his shirt. Pulling it down, to get his attention. It worked for a second because he looked in her eyes. But then he continued and she slipped her hands under his shirt, her hand coming in contact with his skin. That distracted him, his words getting tangled with each other as she pressed and stroked on the side of his stomach and they started stepping backwards until he was with his back on the wall. His back crashed on the wall and She cupped his face with her one hand, squishing his cheeks, so he'd stop talking "i have no idea what you're saying!” she stated.

He let out a deep sigh, focusing on her eyes. Her hand crawled up to his chest, right over his heart. He closed his eyes. Laying his head back and she placed her other hand on his hip. She stepped closer, her leg in between his.

"fucking hell..." He mumbled. She laid her head on his chest, kissed it over the shirt, then looked up at him. Her fingers now crawling under his armpit, pinching him so he'd look at her. He did look, his eyes finding hers again, a little calmer now.

"it's ok" she whispered. He held her face, pulling her up and leaning down, tasting her lips as of she was alcohol to numb the pain. He entered her mouth with his tongue, sucking any bit of her he could and borrowing her air. She gave it all to him, no hesitation, cause she knew he needed it.

They pulled away slowly, his hand on her back now, their foreheads stuck together.

"get a few breaths. Meet us in the locker rooms. Calm, please. Last thing we need is to start fighting with each other. They are your teammates, not your enemies. We are gonna go through it together."

He leaned in to kiss her again, another long sip. She gave it to him, before pulling back. She raised his hand to her lips, leaving another kiss on his fingers.

"can i come to your place tonight?” he asked, his lips ghosting over her ear.

She nodded. Left a kiss on his cheek and left the room first.

[stardancerluv]

Pumpkin and the Beast

Part One

Summary: Your average morning for Reader and Eddie on the way to school.

Notes: Thank you for reading!!! Within the world of season 4 but as if it was truly will be Eddie’s year. This will start and rotate around the established friendship between Eddie and the fem!reader. He is her hero. She is ridiculously cute and girlie. Eddie will be himself…plus some sides I will explore.

Warning: Reference to why Eddie is Reader’s hero is done. Unwanted male behavior, actions. Careful when you go to a party.

Please, enjoy! Reblogs are awesome! ❤️s are fantastic! And I love comments/feedback!

PS If you were tagged, its because you were on my other Eddie story. (Revising the new chapter!) And I thought you may like this new cutesy…and well I can’t spoil everything story.

🎉Happy new year!!🎉

You were annoyed. You fretted over your ponytail, the ribbon kept on coming loose. Eddie would be here any moment to pick you up. Biting your bottom lip you tied it for the what felt like the millionth time.

Taking out your compact, you eyed your reflection; finally a good bow you mused. Giving a small nod. You snapped it closed in time to hear the low, distant hum of Eddie’s music as he turned onto your street.

You happily rocked on your feet. Today was Friday, before Eddie would go to Hellfire the two of you did fun things, a few times you would sit and listen as he acted out the campaign. But other Fridays like today, since he finished the campaign a few days ago the two of you may head over to the next town to the arcade or perhaps if it was warmth enough, maybe you lounge about at Lover’s Lake.

Quickly, you stuffed your compact into your purse and put on your brightest smile. Despite knowing that Eddie hated mornings, you would always try and be bright and sweet for him. Because soon enough, the two of you would be stuck in math class, which both of you hated.

The van rocked to a stop right beside you. Gathering your big girl strength you opened the door. He encouraged you to use that big girl side of you. Sometimes, when the two of you were out bowling or something fun, you’d get more strikes with those big bowling balls or you’d even win a round of air hockey.

Eddie loved being your gallant knight and he always would be. But as your knight, he had told you how sometimes princesses had to be tough too. So these last few months, you were learning how to be tough. All your life your parents had encouraged you to sweet and fluffy, and that others would always be sweet and kind in return.

You learned the hard way, that wasn’t the case. That was the reason why you met Eddie, and he became your gallant knight. One night you had gone to your friend Charlotte’s cousin’s party. In retrospect, it had not been a smart idea. You loved cute things and books.

Charlotte’s cousin had been the head cheerleader at Hawkins who was friend’s with Crissy who had taken her place, Jason and others who were not always the nicest to you, Charlotte and a few of your fellow bookworms or even Eddie as you would come to find out.

Jared, you found out was from one of the rival schools and had crashed the party. He had wanted to prove to Jason, him and his gang were cool. You had bumped into him near the punch bowl.

He got upset since you had spilled your cup of punch all over his letterman jacket. He had not even noticed that you got some on your fluffy socks or on your pink Mary Janes.

Though, he said that if you were sit in his lap all would be forgiven. Since you were such a cute little thing, he wouldn’t be upset anymore. So you thought it would be ok.

Sadly, he had lied. When you didn’t want to give his cheek a kiss, he became upset all over again. He easily scared you. With a thud, you fell to the floor. He was still being mean; even after that. Feeling completely hopeless, Eddie had appeared out of nowhere and took you away.

As he drove you away, he gave you his bandanna to dry your tears. He didn’t simply take you home, instead he took you for a bowl of ice cream, and it was then he became your knight.

Opening the door with a huff, you got the door open.

Eddie had lowered his music, so the two you wouldn’t have to shout to hear each other.

“Hi Eddie!” Your cheeriness bubbling in your voice.

“Hi pumpkin.” He replied, with his own bright smile. “Give me your knapsack.”

Going on your tip toes, you let it slip off your shoulder and gave it to him. He placed it on the van’s floor behind the two of you.

Climbing in, you buckled your seatbelt and then adjusted your skirt it had ridden up by you climbing in.

He drummed his ringed fingers against the the steering wheel. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

@eddieswifu @twentysomethingwereyote @gabriella-gvf @apocalypticwafflekitten @blackberries45 @buckymydarlingangel @readers-posts @grunge-grrrl @ofherscarlettwitchways @making-the-most-0f-it @chaos-incorp @dandycandy75 @poltergeistsblog @alyssinwunderland-blog-blog @helpimspiraling @thegirlwhohides @sebastianstvn @notbeforelong

[flashyfucker]

by the water, euphoria pt2 | sidney crosby ✷

PART ONE / MY MASTERLIST summary: you and sid are all tangled up. still, you grit your teeth and dance around it: you’re both determined to make the rest of the vacation worthwhile. well, you are. you think sid might just be out to ruin your life. sidney crosby x fem reader. word count: like 8.6k because i am a (say it with me) dumb sl*t !!! warnings: vague angst. mutual pining. smut and it’s proper this time. dom sid, obvi. maybe corruption kink. like, daddy kink but barely. sex in uhhh communal areas. sorry. alcohol. age gap (all 18+ always). btw jus gonna go head and say the teammate married to the sister is hmmm [spins wheel] letang, because finding different ways to write “your sister’s husband” is absolutely murdering me. ps thank you for reading and commenting and messaging and making me feel so welcome i could cry. i’m always keen to chat about writing stuff. let me know what you wanna see next! request/suggest/scream at me here xxxx

On your way down to the beach, Sid didn’t touch you. You suppose you hadn’t expected him to (paying little mind to how you wanted him to), but you had expected things to be a bit stilted, maybe, without any address given to the moment on the couch. 

Maybe it was worse, for you both, equally, that things weren’t stilted.

Maybe it was worse that you talked. You traded anecdotes and laughed until your sides ached. He wanted to hear about even the dumb things, stories of losing friends while travelling in faraway countries during your gap year and getting tipsy to go grocery shopping at midnight during your time in college.

It was definitely worse once you made it to the place where two rocky outcrops gave way to a tiny beach, more pebble than sand, where the water gleamed cobalt, and swirled rather than crashed. There, you learned how much you liked hearing the chronicles of Sid’s times in locker rooms and tunnels, and going home to see his family.

It felt like you’d lived three chaotic lives, comparatively, to his single, hockey-centric one, but his musings bought with them a sense of steadiness. Sure, he didn’t have tales of Italian rooftops (and questionable hostels) to match yours, but, on that same note, you didn’t have stories of finding a minuscule slice of heaven in an empty rink (nor your parents sacrificing their lifestyles for your dreams). 

Your circumstances had been wildly different from his, yet your experiences were inexplicably similar. A different breed of the same pressure burdened heavily on the backs of both of you since childhood. He, to be something great, and you, to do something great.

And, the one fact that effloresced from the shot-for-shot trading of your experiences was growing clear: sometimes, you both wished the world around you would just slow down.

Once your ribs stopped hurting, the sun low in the sky when the laughter died, your chest felt bruised, because, you were realising, you didn’t want to talk to Sid like this. Not after the thing on the couch, the way you’d asked him to see you like that, to take you like that and he did, so tenderly.

If you talked, and if you laughed, you couldn’t feign nonchalance at the dinner table, keep your family none the wiser. You couldn’t fake it was just a sex thing, or a power thing, and act as though his quirks weren’t rapidly growing endearing, as if you weren’t watching him open up to you in real-time. 

If you knew how his mom kept safe a dried-up bouquet of flowers for each of his individual achievements, you wouldn’t be able to go back to not knowing. 

Once he’d told you those things, you couldn’t lie, tell yourself you didn’t care.

And, if you were smarter or stronger, maybe, once the jig was up and the lie was a bygone, you’d have stopped all this whatever it is in its tracks. Save yourself some trouble later on.

“What’re you thinking?” Sid asked quietly, propping himself up to look at you for the first time since you’d both thrown your towels down and lain, lazily, side by side. The dark sunglasses resting atop his cheeks made it easier for you to stand up and swipe down the backs of your thighs. Made it easier to move away from him. 

“A whole lot of nothing.” The side of your mouth quirked up in what you hoped would be taken for a show of assurance. 

You haven’t done anything wrong, you wanted to say. I just can’t afford to catch feelings for someone I can’t have.

Sid followed suit, brushing the sand from his trunks before shedding his shirt. He stood on the shore for a second, the ocean lapped at his ankles, tide at a slow rise while you stood there, too, back to him, shoulders tense as your arms were crossed. 

“Can I touch you?”

And, like that, there you were, in his lap again. All his. And, if that was going to work without shredding your heart to mere ribbons, you decided, it would have to be exactly as it was. His hands on you, nothing more, and you, all his, only ever for that moment.

His breath fanned delicately over the nape of your neck, and your skin tingled, ears ringing. 

“Please.”

The way the word left your throat in a powerless whimper felt a little pathetic, but when the back of his hand ghosted a stripe along your spine, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You shivered despite the high sun’s warm bite, and the ocean’s coolness was felt all at once, soft peach fuzz prickling. 

With one hand settling on your hip, Sid’s hot, lax mouth fell to the crux between your shoulder and neck. Your shoulders softened with arousal imitating relief, arms falling to your sides.

His free hand came up to toy with the tie of your swimsuit at the curve of your back, a lone finger hooked underneath the string with no intention of removing it, but a reminder that he could. 

You pushed back into him, sighing when his tongue and teeth pressed against your neck with the clearest deliberation. 

And, if you’d felt how hard he was, Sid thought, you didn’t say anything.

His kiss was taken nearly as soon as it had been given, replaced gingerly with his forehead lulling against the back of your head, an arm draping itself around your body mindlessly. 

“You feel what you do to me, Baby?” He spoke low, broken with rasp.

Once again, he was here. Apologetic for that tightness in his trunks, and even more rueful now he’d put words to it, albeit in a sick, roundabout way. His face felt searing, and you sensed his trepidation. You could feel it in even the most diminutive shifts of his muscles. 

Your heart raced at it, brow furrowing. That all-too-familiar slipping feeling seeping in. Reaching for the forearm he’d lain across your ribs, you nudged it just a little lower, willing his big hand to the seam where your swimsuit bottoms met your skin.

“I love this, Sid. So much.” You stopped your voice there, lest the continuation you could’ve given discourage him. You could’ve told him, truthfully, how badly you needed him to take you. How, if he’d asked, you’d have gotten on your knees for him, right there. 

Moreover, you wanted to tell him that you hoped, desperately, that he was even half as into you as you were into him. 

(And maybe that tension in his shorts made you feel a bit more secure in those hopes, and a bit less like a charity case.)

Regardless of could’ves and wanted tos, Sid let your few words catch him, for they were all he’d needed to hear: 

whatever it was he felt, you didn’t mind. You’d grasp it, and you’d hold him in it. Maybe this whole thing was a favour, just a moment. But it belonged to both of you, now, equally.

He smiled, the burgeoning relief he felt teetering on overwhelming, and his hand splayed over your stomach, fingertips finally dipping underneath your bikini. 

“Anyone ever touched you here before?”

He hadn’t even cared about the answer, he thought. His goal, now, was nothing but to rile you up. Occupy your mind. After all, that objective was the genesis of this. And it was becoming nothing, really, if not a game the two of you were playing. 

Within these moments, were they to continue, Sid decided, it was his job to follow your lead: pull you out of yourself, safe at his side. And for now, all he wanted was to make you squirm.

You turned your head in hesitation, enough for your lips to find purchase below his jaw. His hand was static, not yet deep enough to feel where the wetness pooled. His thumb caressed your lower stomach, tiny strokes coaxing your answer forward.

“Don’t remind me about my ex right now,” You exhaled shakily, flustered smile against his skin wringing at his chest, just a little. “He never wanted to try it.”

Sid hadn’t cared about the answer at all, until the answer was no, not really.

“Fuck.” He spit, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple, mouth lingering there while his middle fingers skimmed over your clit, sending a jolt through you, relieving only an iota of pressure. The tiniest of moans broke in your throat as your brow furrowed, eyes crushing shut.

“’M gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

Before you could process his words, the way your body pulsed at them before they’d fully washed through your head, Sid withdrew completely. You watched in awe as the man took a step around you, wading a little way into the ocean.

“You’re fucking cruel.” Words you’d meant to jest came from you more akin to a whine.

“M’ not fingerfucking you on a public beach. Much less when it’s your first time.” He explained sternly and logically, the way you’d imagine he’d explain something to a rookie teammate on the bench, something which felt unfair and frustrating. He paraded an undercurrent of experience and confidence which reassured you.

Still, it didn’t satiate the slick between your thighs.

“You fingerfucked my throat on a... public-like... couch.” You tried to quip as though it’d convince him, but Sid only laughed. You watched (stupidly, you felt) with your hands on your hips as he sunk back into the water, cupping his hands to splash it over his rosy face, card his fingers through his hair.

“Whatever. I’m going home.” You finally huffed childishly, turning for your towel and tote bag. 

You could nearly hear it on his face: the crooked smile, an unguarded moment.  

“Y/N. Swim with me?”

He sounded bright.

Cruelly, it only reminded you of how, sex removed from the equation, he and all his unguarded brightness couldn’t be yours. 

Your chest felt open. You slung your tote over one shoulder, nothing but your phone and a half-empty water bottle swaying inside. 

“That’s probably not a good idea.” 

You tried not to sound sad about it. Raised your voice a little and said it with a smile, so he could hear you over the shuffling of rocks and sand and relentless water enveloping him. Still, all your tries couldn’t prevent the way Sidney’s grin fell.

He knew why. He really did. Perhaps the age difference could’ve been negligible, unique circumstances considered, but your family couldn’t. Sid knew how proud Letang was to play the role of your big brother, he had been since the very day things got serious with your sister. You were the closest thing he had to a sibling, even before the wedding had put it to paper, and he’d always held you in that regard. 

Kris had never told his teammates not to fall in love with his brand-new baby sister, but, in all fairness, he hadn’t thought he’d needed to: that kind of a thing was a given. And he’d never once even considered he’d have to have that conversation with Sidney, of all the guys in the entire league.

Knowing why you bent down to pick up your still-dry towel did nothing to ease the hurt when you did.

“I’ll see you when you get home, Sid.”

You tried on that ill-fitting smile once more and hoped he could tell, somehow, how badly you wanted to stay as you left.

When he got home things were so normal it hurt, waltzing in a little after dark with his towel cloaking his hips and shirt slung over one shoulder. 

You were alone, living room lights turned down a fraction on the dimmer with an old Pens game playing loud on the TV. With a knee tucked up to your chest, you scrawled messily on the notepad taken from the kitchen fridge, typically reserved for scribbling takeout orders and neighbours’ phone numbers, a page now marked with questions and exclamation marks and a shoddily drawn diagram of a rink, right at the bottom.

“Hey,” You started, pausing your shorthand to turn down the volume when you heard the door swing open. “Kris has shrimp going on the grill.” 

Sid tried skimming over it, the shred of irony he found here, you tucked up on the couch like this, room glowing by the light of a game on the television while he stood, damp and salty. The floridity of your complexion told him it wasn’t lost on you, either.

“What’cha writing?” He asked on his way to the fridge. “If you don’t mind sharing.” 

You swallowed around your tongue, face hot. 

“Just a few things I don’t understand. I tried googling some of them but all the articles are written for, like, sports bros. So I was gonna ask Kris, or you, if you want to answer them, maybe,” 

So much for keeping it at his hands on you, nothing more. 

You wanted to scold yourself, roll your eyes at your own behaviour and just how tangled your feelings were becoming. You’d flicked the TV on when you’d arrived home, and a game queued up from earlier in the day played, and for probably a hundred reasons, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn it off. 

Sid couldn’t help it, the blushing like a high school freshman, the hand which came up under the delicate chain below his throat, fidgeting with its tiny links. 

“Of course I’ll answer them.” He said, soft-toned as ever.

You smiled at him, across the room, shuffling to find a glass in the cabinets, crease in his brow reading determination.

You liked him like this, you thought. He wasn’t an NHL superstar like this, half-dressed and still warmed by the sun under downlights, front office staff and media all so far away that they couldn’t touch him, no matter how badly they wanted to.

“The game’s not over yet, so I’ll hold you to that, later, when my list is done.” You breathed smoothly, put at ease by the coolness he was showing, like he’d entirely forgotten you’d been at the beach at all.

Mid-morning, at the kitchen island, you argued an absolute lost cause with Kris and Sid. 

“If they penalise it, players won’t slug the puck, like, halfway across the country just to kill time, basically. It means it’s not worth it for the players.” Your sister tossed down the magazine she’d been clutching in the living room and closed her eyes, exasperated by just listening to your determined vexing. 

“Jesus. Neither of you could’ve just said that ten minutes ago?” You stressed back at Kris and Sid with a roll of your eyes, a dramatic flick of your hands.

Maybe you were playing it up, and maybe you’d understood perfectly fine what icing was the first (or, like, the second) time they’d tried to explain it. But the fingers rubbing at Sid’s temples while he slumped over the counter were a bit like a reward. To have thrown him off his game (and turned a few grey hairs out of him) felt like some kind of comeuppance following the way he’d slighted you on the beach.

You were having too much fun to really hear the steady pull up of cars in the drive out front. Referring back to the notepad in your hand, about to open your mouth once more, your sister lifted a pointy finger at you across the room and warned, “Drop it, I swear to God,”, and you did, if only for her sanity, instead opting to watch her move towards the front door.

You sat in the kitchen, leathery barstool clammy on your thighs, as a patchwork of hockey players and their partners rolled in, Kris and Sid equally beaming at the surprise organised by your sister. The players represented a few teams scattered over the league, and catch-ups weren’t common at all, let alone ones without the looming pressure of a game or high-profile, highly-strung event. 

The piling in of people for the weekend felt nice. The walls would vibrate with the clamour and booming voices and laughter, and there were too many people for the number of bedrooms or patio chairs, but it felt like a surrogate family, strangers or not.

At the bottom of the stairwell, Sidney, ever the gracious leader, had traded away the comfort of his guest bed in exchange for the pull-out couch before anyone had even asked. 

You glared at the back of his head for that—  for bringing that insane idea to fruition, as your sister stared blankly at you in your peripheral, awaiting a similar foregoing of your bed to allow another of the couples some privacy during their weekend stay.

“My bed is so comfy,” You started, petulance grinding to a painful halt when you, once more, met the eye of your sister, who stood there with a harsh crease in her brow, head tilted in a way which put the intrinsic fear of your mother into you. 

You finished quickly: “Which is exactly why you should enjoy it, Nathan.”

If growing up with your family had taught you the mastery of one thing, it was faking one killer smile. Kris caught your eye, mouthing an endearing thank you alongside a smile more genuine than your own, which sweetened the deal a little. Partly because you liked Kris, but more than that, because you liked having Kris owe you favours, being that he was the only other person here well-versed in the language of your sister.

Once the newer guests had settled, drinks flowed in the yard (we can day drink, right?!, one of the ladies gleamed, already popping the prosecco). You stood at the kitchen counter before you joined them, mind mulling over nothing at all while you found rhythm in slicing lemons, content in listening to the muffled music and laughter chiming through from outside.

Sid, after moving the last of his luggage away to the office to allow one of the couples a little more space in the guest room, entered the open-plan living room. 

“Hey,” He begun, pulling your attention, quirking your brow over your shoulder. He had a feathery stack of bedding scooped up under one arm, and had started folding it over the arm of the sofa. He continued.

“Are you on birth control?”

You nearly choked. 

At the question itself, obviously, but moreover, the casualty with which he’d asked it, like there wasn’t a pack of people just past the glass doors which broke the patio from the living room. Like it wasn’t broad daylight, he wasn’t folding the eiderdown, and you weren’t minding your business, in an oversized tee, chopping fucking lemons, taken so very off-kilter by him.

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide. He looked at you like he’d asked something weightless, waiting patiently for an answer. You didn’t respond for long enough that he felt the need for elaboration.

“We’re sharing a room now. Thought I’d be precautious.” 

He simpered, and the enthusiasm with which he’d offered away his guest room started to make some sense.

“Sharing the living room, Sid. I’ll take the little sofa.” Your voice occupied a strange midpoint between exasperated and trembling, and you returned to your chopping board while he began to pace for the door, his bed linen stacked neatly. His hand lingered on the iron door handle, sight flitting back over the expanse of space between the big, grey couch, and the little velvet loveseat you apparently intended on sleeping upon. 

You let your mind wander to the potential for the total breakdown of whatever this was, which would occur if you were to be found in bed with Sid when morning light broke and someone came down to brew coffee.

But, you also thought about the reward if you weren’t found out. With the imagining of that reward tucked away somewhere dark, you called to Sid before he stepped outside:

“I am, by the way.”

By mid-afternoon, you’d downed two spiked lemonades to help pull you precariously out to join the party. Kris’ friends were intimidating, somehow equally in the offseason, when they were mix-matched with their guards down, than when they were uniformed soldiers prepared to dazzle thousands on the ice.

It was warm outside, one of those weird days where the breeze sticks to your skin and makes it tough to breathe. Clouds rolling in the distance thickened the briny air: you could smell the storm coming, the salt and grass mixing with the pavement intoxicatingly.

You’d not had any complex interaction with Kris’ friends since the wedding, when you were a smidge shorter and a smidge shyer, and of course, that shiny college acceptance letter from somewhere hard to get into was how your family introduced you.

Nathan Mackinnon seemed to be the only one who remembered anything about you at all, now, and maybe that little extra mile shouldn’t have surprised you. 

In the earliest hours of the morning following the ceremony, your face numb and brain surging, one of the bridesmaids had pointed a lazy hand to Nate in a back corner, still a little uncomfortable in this glitzy world and it showed, and, she slurred, he’s been eyeing you up all night.

Now, you wondered, whether things might be different had you crept over to the corner occupied by Nate and asked him to dance. Maybe you could’ve wound up looking across the table at him, here, and Sid, sat beside him, head tilted back hungrily, would be meaningless. Maybe.

Things would’ve been simpler. It would’ve made sense, you and a guy closer to your age, playing on a team closer to your college, a little further from Kris and your sister, not one of Kris’ closest friends. It sure as hell would’ve made a lot more sense than whatever feelings flurried about your head, now, years later. 

But, that night, in a whirl of powder and heady perfume at that velvet-foiled table, Nate didn’t matter. You were busy talking to Sid.

For all your flaws, now, you were relatively good at cards. But, God, you were thankful you weren’t playing with cash. It’d only taken Kris emptying your pockets one time (on your birthday, no less) for you to learn one lesson: hockey players play a lot of card games. On planes, buses, in hotel rooms. He’d bought all your drinks after taking your money, but no amount of top-shelf tequila could patch up your pride after the beating you’d taken at that green felt table.

Your dwindling chips were serving as a painful reminder of that night, but there was a sliver of hope left, maybe. It was just you and a stupidly smiley Nate left, his stack only a few chips taller than yours.

You felt the hope abating when Sid tapped Nate’s shoulder and leant in to whisper something, bravado puffing his tanned shoulders, the slightest of smiles on that tender mouth.

Whatever that something was, it must’ve been good.

“All in.” Nate sucked in a sharp breath, neck red from the rum and coke by his hand.

The company around the table was spring-loaded, grasping their drinks in wait.

“What the fuck?!” You gaped, giving yourself away, and the table went up in playful jeers. 

You tucked your cards to the table, face down so nobody caught the off suited two and four you’d held strong with for, probably, far too long, and ran your hands down your face for a juncture, someone moving to reshuffle the cards as you rubbed your temples, eyes scrunched.

“Count me out of the next hand. I’m going to be a sore loser over there, in the pool.” You sulked, pushing your chair back from the table. Your thighs clung stickily to the mesh when you stood, shirking away from the disappointed babbling with an apology you didn’t mean. 

“Good hand, Nate. You had me going for a while there.” You smiled even if you didn’t fully believe it, the sportsmanship of your father barrelling back to you.

“I’m gonna apologise for that one,” Sid commented, a pitiful excuse to follow you away from the table after you’d already stepped into the pool, knee-deep and peeling your shirt from your body. 

With your hands hooked on the limestone lip at the water’s surface, wet chin against the warm, dry pavement, you watched Sid pace over.

“What the fuck did you say to him?”

If you weren’t halfway livid with Sid, there’d have been something unreal about the angle you had on him right there: the mounts of his bowed legs in shorts just a little too short, curving through the view of taut abs— why was he still shirtless, again? It’d been hours since they were in the pool. You’d be lying to say you weren’t at all contented by it. 

His dark eyes were gleamy, reflecting the glowing below him, and while he looked straight down at you, the angles of his face were made sharp by the water’s ripples. And yet, you were halfway livid, so none of that mattered. Kind of.

“Just told him you were trying not to smile.” 

Your stomach pitted.

“Whatever.” You scoffed quietly, glancing back to the table where the group was absorbed in a new game. The trifling curiosity ate you quickly. “How would you even know that?”

Sid looked around the yard, avoiding your eye.

“Your temple flexes when you clench your jaw, which you do when you’re stopping yourself. From showing anything, not just smiling.”

If you’d thought about it for more than a second, it would’ve made your heart burst, the way he’d noted such an incredibly insignificant thing. But, again, there were more pressing things to concern yourself with. 

“Y’know getting me beat in poker isn’t going a long way in convincing me to fuck you tonight.” 

You’d not known whether the closely-gathered crowd at the table could hear you across the lawn, but, at that point, you didn’t care. You peeked over at them, awaiting any indication they’d heard your dig. If this was how you were caught, you hoped it’d be funnier than it was controversial, but still, you watched. 

Sid didn’t miss a beat. Your body, once soft and liquid, turned rigid in an instant.

“Somehow I don’t think you need any more convincing.”

Long after dinner, after good-nights and still-hollow plans for tomorrow (the driving range missed us today, I’m sure of it, someone chaffed), Sid and Letang sat on the patio, the two of them. 

Listening to Steve Mears’ voice at the lowest volume on the surround sound, you found yourself there again, lime tang stuck to your tongue, amber lights turned down. One of their beers you’d stolen from the cooler sat on the coffee table, barely a mouthful gone before it lost its wet chill. You never really liked beer, more liked the way holding the bottle made you feel.

“You won’t finish it,” Kris had ribbed with a smile, watching you retrieve the bottle. 

“I will.” You swore, palming a few waxy lime wedges from a small dish on the table.

And, in the way that older siblings are meant to be, Kris was right. You poured it down the sink, listened to it gurgle as Sid and Kris came inside for the night, still laughing from something said behind the glass doors.

“What’d I say?” Kris pointed at you, grin growing on his mouth despite his hushed tone, the threat of waking the house looming.

“Shut up,” You replied, pointing the neck of the bottle at him like a threat, only making him laugh. “Maybe if you bought better beer I’d finish it when I steal them.”

“Less than half, right?” Kris pressed on, smiling, your resignation his glorious win. “You drank less than half?

A stupid, grousing little part of you felt warm, not at the banter, but more so, at Sid stood off to the side, bearing witness to it. Like on the first day, when your sister had made you sweat a little in front of him, made you feel like a kid again. 

The cool, older guy, watching you shrink, trying to prove yourself and failing. That stupid, grousing little part of you regretted grabbing a beer at all. But, whether or not Sid had picked up on your sudden disquiet, you didn’t know. It didn’t matter. The hand he slid against the curve of your back as he passed you, remaining a little too long, maybe, the weight of it pulled you back to yourself, drained all your feelings of smallness.

When Kris went to bed, the click shut of his bedroom door upstairs rang through like a starter pistol. Neither you nor Sid spared a word. You brushed past one another in the hallway, in and out of the bathroom to brush teeth and dress down, and pretended the intensity in the room hadn’t grown tenfold. 

Everything wound, coiled tight like a spring, waiting for something to give. 

You nearly gasped when Sid spoke first, felt it in your chest, his placid timbre.

“We didn’t end up getting past icing today.”

He eyed the notepad that sat on the coffee table fondly, all its smudgy ink. 

Half the tension gone, you scoffed.

“It just sounds fake!” You said, throwing a hand out at the TV despite the intermission on screen, the game long ignored, anyway. He helped you reel out the sofa bed wordlessly, toss out creamy sheets, and he pretended he didn’t see the way you were brooding, brow furrowed. 

“I really do think the game could be more interesting if there was a little more chaotic, pointless scurrying back and forth.” You finally collapsed on the bed, duvet puffing up around you, unbearably soft against your skin. 

Sid resigned to the place beside you, chuckling softly, “We don’t need to argue about this again.”, both of you wilfully ignorant to the magnitude of you in his bed, there, in his space like you belonged there (and maybe, by some measure, you did).

“Sid.”

He looked at you, just-hooded gaze knotting you inside. Your eyes were big, looking up, melting him. He swallowed hard before his head tilted in acknowledgement, breath on hold.

“Do you wanna touch me?”

“What?” He asked, voice buoyant, as though you’d started a joke. For a moment your throat went dry, starry eyes forever away, waiting for some kind of mocking you’d not known from Sid, but it didn’t come, of course, it didn’t. 

Lifting a hand to your hairline, to your jaw, instead, he stroked, drew a soft line.

“I thought the poker thing killed my chances.”

Elation teetered in the centre of your throat. Poker was a million miles away, everything was.

“You’re on thin ice.”

“I’m used to it.”

You caught the brittle shell of the joke but his index finger, now curled with a knuckle bent against the seam of your lips, reigned a lot more alluring. 

He started with two fingers, tempting your tongue, mouth lax and forgiving, waiting on an unspoken cue from Sid, something more. The quick press of his thumb up into your lower lip edged your mouth shut around him, and in doing so, pulled from him a sigh as you sucked, eyes drifting shut.

Your chin tilted up to follow the gentle motions of his hand, infatuated by how his breaths were growing shorter, more audible. 

His wrist twisted carefully as his hand thrust, drool collecting at his joints lewdly, soft suction hardening behind the press of your plush lips. 

He gulped, blinked slow. For a second Sid allowed himself to see you the same way he had just a day prior, this same place, occupying this same space in his head. 

Under auric light, even the most overt of the curves of your body lustred, soft from your nightly routine. Sid loved your eyes, the way they’d blaze when you spoke of something you cared for, and now, looking up at him, despite your lashes weighing heavy with lust, you still mouthing at his fingers hotly, he swore that blaze was almost the same.

For all he wanted to acquiesce his best senses telling him to stop it all, everything, right now, Sid couldn’t bear to pull his eyes from where they met yours. With his brow knitted as ever, the tight space under his ribs burned.

At a particularly hard drive of his wrist, you drew in a hard gasp around him, hips mindlessly gyrating, searching for something more than your silken sleep shorts. 

The sight of you, for how endearing and mind-numbingly pretty and dully burning it was in his torso, also mounted in him an urgent need, a fresh sense of arousal, you and those blazing, begging eyes. 

“You know anyone could come out here and see you like this. Yet you don’t seem to care, do you? Do you wanna tell me why that is?” 

He withdrew his hand, touching your cheek where a limpid tear had branded its track. Your eyes fluttered open. You didn’t know what to say. Everything you wanted to say hung behind your teeth, remained shapeless in your mouth, your jaw agape.

“You can be honest, Baby.” He told you earnestly, brushing your hair from your face, the lock shadowy against your skin, only aglow by a few dimmed bulbs in the kitchen, a sick reminder of the publicity of your location. 

“I want it,” You start, swallowing hard. “Really fucking badly, Sid.” 

Your fingertips sunk into his wrist beside your head, thumb resting at where you could feel his pulse, fastening beat keeping you firmly on earth. You looked at him, followed the glowy orange line along his side profile where the washy golden light backlit his skin. 

“Want what? What is it you want so badly?” 

His voice was so soft, tiny smile ruminating. He was fucking with you. He had to be fucking with you, playing dumb like this. Really, though, Sid needed to hear you call this for what it was: something more than a favour, more than a moment. 

He needed to know that he wasn’t imagining it all. The bottom of the stairs, and the patio table, sitting on the sand at the beach— that the sum of these seconds was something more than just this, family be damned. 

He didn’t think his heart could take this otherwise, whatever was about to happen, what had already happened.

“I want you, Sid. I need you to ruin me.” 

At that, maybe unwisely, Sid kissed you, the weight of your words not lost on him. 

It was mellow and chaste, as if he was testing the waters at first, perhaps a little afraid you’d stop it. When your hand found his throat for leverage, his kiss quickly hardened. He dropped his hip against the bed so he was on his side against you, one elbow to leverage his upper body, and you could feel him, even in the places your bodies didn’t meet. 

As the softness of your tongue met his in sync, your fingers followed suit at the waistband of his sweats. A tentative hand dwelled there, and the warmth of your mouth left him for a bare second.

“Can I?”

“Yeah, Baby.” 

Then you licked your palm and your fingers were below his waist, finding the hot, sticky tip of his length. He kissed you again, quick and open on your mouth, cut off by the loose glide of your hand down his warm cock, fingers barely ringed around the thickness.

You could hear the blood battering in your ears at the sound he made, a sharp hiss of air through his teeth while he watched you, trying to keep his eyes open: he didn’t want to miss any of this, needed to remember. The throbbing in your gut matched your pulse, growing heavy there in your lower belly, your pelvis surging thoughtlessly.

A little exploratory, you swiped a soft thumb over the head, smiling breathlessly when his hips kicked up. You revelled in the tiny reactions from him, the speeding up of his breath, chest surging. He clasped your wrist before you had the chance to push it much farther, changing his mind on a dime.

“Another time,” He said at your displeased little hmph. He pulled back up to his knees, resting on his haunches beside where you lay. 

“You keep saying that.” You quipped. “What if there is no other time?”

You could’ve gone cold at the inflamed words now hung in the air between you. You hadn’t even really known what they’d meant before you said them, didn’t what you meant by them, if anything at all. He didn’t let you go cold, though. Didn’t let the moment falter. 

He grabbed your jaw, squeezing just enough to open you up, mouth red and glossed. 

“Tongue out,” Is all that came, bypassing your annotation, the way it nipped at him. Still, you wanted this, your body trembled with it, all that want, so pent up. You stuck your tongue out as instructed, taking him down when he spit eagerly, a chill running down your spine to join with the beating in your belly, between your legs, where his free hand had begun flirting with the inseam of your shorts. 

The nipping at him only grew tenfold when your head lolled into the weight of his hand, captivated eyes glittering up at him, looking like he’d just told you he loved you for the first time. You stuck out your tongue again, proof you swallowed it, and Sid nearly folded.

Your legs spread further in anticipation as his fingers drew down your torso, and you found yourself mouthing at the hand now held on your jaw, thumb bridging over your lips heavily.

“I love your mouth.” His voice wavered some when your teeth found purchase around his fingertip.

“But, I think,” He pressed on, four fingers finally tugging your shorts and panties to the side, “I’ll like your cunt more.”

You gasped to save yourself making a noise any cruder, shivering at his words. The air, cool and moving, was a relief on your centre, but Sid didn’t give you time to appreciate it before he had a lone finger run the seam of your pussy, garnering some of your slick before rounding your clit. You moaned through lips crimped shut, face screwed up in a way so stunning it threatened to ruin the man above you.

It was one finger at first, dipping tentatively, daring you to say something, to breathe, even.

“Your fingers are,” You stopped to finally exhale, fearing your lungs could’ve exploded, “Bigger than mine,”

He chuckled at that, and tried his best not to let the image of you, your own fingers between supple thighs, working yourself over, distract him. Instead, that coaxing smile still on his mouth, he crooked his finger and eased in a second. You pulled your forearm over your face instinctively to cover your mouth as the pleasure forged and tightened, but just as quickly, Sid knocked it away, collecting both your wrists in his one free hand and holding them still.

“You gonna be a good girl? Stay quiet?”

His thumb nudged at your clit, wrist oscillating the tiniest amount to let him rub circles at your g-spot. You could’ve sworn you saw stars, vision gone spotty after you forced your clenched-shut eyes back to him where he watched you, even-faced, still expecting a response.

Your tongue poked out to wet your lips and you gulped, trying to compose yourself somehow. As if that was even possible like this.

“Yes. Yeah, I am.” You managed.

“Perfect.”

Your cunt fluttered at the inkling of praise, and Sid sighed a breathy laugh at your reaction, riling you up a little, hand moving faster, rubbing at that one delicious spot inside you with his thumb still trained on your clit, stroking attentively. 

“Please, Sid.” Your body squirmed and strained thoughtlessly and your hips bucked, hands struggling against the firm grip he held on your wrists. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking for.” His voice was shot, eyes dark. “Need to be more specific for me to give you what you need,”

Just like that, your resolve dissipated, need overtaking. 

“I need you to fuck me, Sidney. Need your cock inside me. I can’t take it any longer. Please put it in.” 

Your muscles tensed around his fingers once more, a soft thigh brushing against him, you enveloping him. His hand thrust slowly forward once more to nudge your sweet spot, now starving your clit of any attention at all. Your legs pressed tight around his wrist, writhing and bucking and trying. 

“You want me to put my cock in you, Baby? You want me to put it all in? Push it all the way inside until you can’t think about anything else?”

His voice got away from him, muttering sternly before he had the chance to vet his words. He could feel your reactions everywhere, sure his skin lay over white-hot coals, it was the only explanation for his roiling nerves. He loved what his unchecked words were doing to you, the way your mouth was split, whimpering from your throat, brow knitted, your body flowing with all of it, everything.

“Nothing else, Sid,”

Sid knelt back, hand leaving your cunt only to sweep your shorts and panties down in one motion. He watched in awe as your legs fell asunder for him once more, his shaky hand rubbing at the silken skin of your shin closest to him. You wanted to frame it, the look on his face in this light, all doe-eyed elation and awe, and you felt tight and pleated inside, seeing him like that, the anticipation overwhelming.

“Nothing but how stretched out you are, huh? How deep you can feel me inside you?”

You were sure he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He gripped one of your legs, lifted your hips over the palisade of his thighs and shifted your body so he was situated between your knees, and you bit back a reaction to just how hot it was, the way he could throw you around at will. You watched him strip his shirt and ruck his sweats to his midthigh, and didn’t bother masking the drop of your jaw at the sight of his cock, leaking and heated, all for you. 

“Please, Sid. Please. I need it. Nothing but you.”

You looked like a fucking painting, halo of hair thrown out around your face, all glistening and rosy. And who would he be, now, like this, to deny you what you needed? 

He could’ve finished on the spot when the first swollen inch popped in— your hot, dripping walls choking him, blowing his mind. Both hands encircled your midsection, bracing himself while pressing you into the mattress as he rocked forward, filling you wholly. 

You sobbed nonsense into your own palm, fingers dug into your cheek so you wouldn’t whine too loudly. Your other hand came up under the shirt bundled around your ribs to tease at one of your nipples, quickly followed by Sid shoving the shirt up entirely, putting your tits on show for him. 

For all his elated doe-eyes had first roused you, nothing could’ve prepared you for this, his slack-jawed smile as he watched your cunt stretching around him obscenely. His hair, longer from the summer, curled and stuck to his forehead, sweat beginning to bead along his temple.

The first time you choked out his name, after his instinctual reaction to press you harder had subsided, he flipped you over with a hand on your hip, cock barely gone for a second before you mewled for it, helplessly empty without it.

You’d begun to say something quickly forgotten when Sid spoke and your blood felt bitter.

“Put your fingers in your mouth when I fuck you. I want you to remember.”

You let out a needy cry, head reeling like you could feel the chill flood from your brain to between your legs, remnants of your clipped orgasm building once more.

You did as you were told and eased your own two middle fingers over your tongue with the side of your face pushed into the bed. Sid made easy work of pulling you back into him by the flesh of your thighs, fingers heavy and rough, tearing a muffled yelp from around your fingers. He manoeuvred you so smoothly, nudging one leg to bend at the knee, opening you up for him, and crawled up closer to you while kneading the flesh of your thighs with greedy hands.

“You comfy?” Sid asked lowly, kindly, pulling your swimming mind back up, your desperate hands moving to seize fists of the duvet beneath you. The consideration bloomed in your abdomen. 

“Yeah, Sid.” 

With that reassurance, he inched forward, the hot head of his thick cock catching at your slicked entrance.

You were fucked, you thought, if someone came out here while he had you like this, nudging back inside you gently with the slightest shifts of his hips, stretching you slowly. 

There would be no hiding this. Something dark in you liked that thought: the idea that they’d know, whoever they were, that you were Sid’s. They’d see it and they’d know, even if it were only for a moment.

Cock finally fully seated in you, he reached forward with a hard sigh, brushing your hair from the sliver of your face he could see. The motion, the steady uptick of his body had him rubbing impossibly deep within you, coaxing a noise that was all head and throat, so pretty he needed to hear it again. 

“Pretty Baby,” 

You pushed back on him at that, trying to meet the calculated moves of his pelvis, heighten their intensity. Reciprocating, Sid found a steady, deep rhythm. An arm coiled around your hip, lifting your body the slightest amount, and his flexors pulsed against your lower abdomen, rubbing over your clit delicately.

You could’ve cried, a stunned moan probably a little too loud, circumstances considered, breaking from your mouth. You could feel the pressure mount in your pelvis fast, and Sid must’ve felt it, too, your heat ticking around him.  

“Hold it, Baby. Hold out for me,”

His thrusts were slow and hard and deep, and you vaguely registered his hand digging into the flesh of your ass, but you could only maintain focus on the fingers at work over your dripping pussy, where his cock railed into you, messy and raw.

“Please, Daddy. I need it. Please let me cum,” You were outright begging now, with little regard for how pathetic you must’ve looked (nor now into it Sid was, eyes pinched shut and head ripped back), and even less regard for the words leaving your mouth (Where the hell had daddy come from, anyway?). Sid had never really considered he’d like it, but now, from you, fuck.

You caught it, for a moment in your periphery, the hard column of Sid’s throat like stone, chin tipped. It took all you had not to swivel and push yourself up, take his skin in your mouth. Instead, you pressed your hand down, down, down, brain whirring, fingertips meeting his between your thighs. 

The stretches of space where his skin flattened heavily against yours, clammy and titillating, were growing to be too much. 

“You can let go, Baby. You’ve been so good.” 

Your body stuttered, muscles pulling. His hand between your thighs, rubbing soft, quick strokes at your clit didn’t stop for a moment, his body surrounding you, pressure everywhere at once in the most extraordinary way. At the crest of your orgasm, blinding heat flowing through you with your mouth pressed into the bend of your elbow to muffle yourself, you thanked him again and again, eyes scrunched shut, your tight heat milking him.

“There she is, atta girl.” His grunted words kept the feeling rolling, your skin tingling all over while your muscles throbbed, reaching fiercely to push his rutting hand from your clit to suspend the overstimulation, you both straining disbelieving laughter, curtailed by the contraction of your muscles around his cock cutting a filthy noise from his throat. 

His rhythm stammered barely a moment after, hands coming to the thick of your thighs and squeezing so severely, as all he’d done to hold out his own release collapsed, the feel of you falling apart at the seams beneath him, tautening around him, and your voice wrecked, still choking on your thanks, all of it too, too much. 

Sid hummed at the keen of his name that fell from you as he pulled out carefully, running a gentle hand over your ass. He could feel his cheeks heat up at the view of his cum leaking from your sopping cunt, burying away the borderline confusing feeling that it could’ve been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, he ever would see, you looking so much like his. Dry-mouthed, Sid hiked his sweatpants back up and grasped for his shirt somewhere on the floor alongside the bed to save the duvet. God fucking forbid he have to explain the stain.

Propping yourself up a little higher on your hands and knees, your fingers came to your core, face, impossibly, glowing even deeper at the evidence of him there, adding to the aftershocks still trembling between your hips. 

Sid groaned quietly at the sight of you, a little unsteady and still affected before him, with two fingers pressing back into your sensitive pussy. You whimpered as your thighs buckled, pushing his seed back in messily. Sid’s shirt was bundled tight in his hand, the same one he then used to turn you back over sharply, tired giggle falling from your lips as your back collided with the bed.

With a nervy smirk, you propped yourself up on an elbow and ran your tongue over your fingers, sucking them clean and humming at the heady taste.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ end me.” Sid strained and shook his head, mind blank of all other thoughts. His smile prevailed, though, over the arousal stirring in him once more. He nudged at your knee as soon as he managed to snap out of that feeling, opening you up for him, and you shared shallow smiles following your little yelp as he pawed over your used pussy with the soft cotton.

Following the passage of a breathless moment, the pair of you sat across from one another and his hand came to yours, lifting it to toy with your fingers, caressing the knuckle where your teeth had scraped, comparing the insignificant marks to the ones he had, matching them.

When the warmth of his hand on yours began to roil in your chest, you stood up, both hands on Sid’s shoulders to steady your spent body. With a tenderness that had your cheeks full with a stunning grin you simply couldn’t help, Sid helped pull your panties back on, followed by your sleep shorts, and he let his hands remain on your hips, a quiet savouring of the moment, disallowing its inevitable slip for a while longer.  

“I’m gonna go clean up a little,” You murmured after a few beats, one hand collecting under his chin in a messy fist to nudge his eyes up to yours. Sid hadn’t realised his eyes were screwed shut at all until it took a moment to coax them open, the glow of your complexion a sweetener.

You whispered, “I want to kiss you again,”, and his eyes fell back to his lap, that tiny devastation creeping in.

"Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

The air left his mouth slowly, like the drawing out of heavy nectar. It killed him to say it, to remind you of your sensibilities. 

You didn’t want to remember them, either.

Still, you were at a stalemate with your feelings. Regardless of what you wanted, now, you left without kissing him.

[patd--phan]

Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Dadsbestfriend! Bucky (mid/late 40s) x reader (in early/mid twenties)

Summary: Y/N surprises bucky on a business trip and he promises to be hers.

Warnings: SMUTTY stuff (18+ only pleasee), unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), riding, teasing, significant age gap, reader takes charge, “Doll/sweets/baby/sweetheart”, some cute ass shit at the beginning and end tho

WC: about 3K im sorry I was really H*rny yesterday and I was unable to do anything about it as i was stuck in the car all damn day

Note: So I was really h*rny yesterday and this happened lol I’m sorry. Loosely based on the song wanna be yours-arctic monkeys. Also this will probably be the only smut I ever write bc I don’t wanna become an 18+ blog or make anyone uncomfortable (not that 18+ blogs are bad tho lemme set that straight, most of my fav blogs are)

PS thank you for the love on my first ever fic with Peter Parker x reader, it made me so happy that ppl didn’t think I suck lol ( and i guess i lied saying i would probably never write another one shot lol)

You do NOT have my permission to repost this anywhere, I will come for u if you plagiarize ok bye

It was no secret that Bucky liked to be in charge in the bedroom, and you had absolutely no problem with that. After all, he was older and more experienced; he knew how to make your body sing. But this week you were craving something a little different. Bucky had been away on a business trip all weekend and you really missed him, not just the sex (but I mean…) but just cuddling and talking to him about your day; you were feeling clingy. You decide to text bucky even though you knew he couldn’t answer right away because he was currently in a meeting.

Y/N: I mis youu :( when will you be back tomorrow?

You just wandered around your apartment for the next 20 minutes, casually checking your phone about every 30 seconds just in case bucky was able to sneak in a text. He finally replied after 30 minutes, right as his meeting was ending at 3.

Bucky: Hey doll, I miss you too <3

Bucky: unfortunately one of the investors this morning had to push their meeting to late tomorrow afternoon, so I’m not gonna be home until very late tomorrow night :(

Y/N: dammit :(

Y/N: well good luck at the pitch meeting tomorrow, I love and miss you <3

Bucky: don’t gimme that pout I know your making doll, ill see you tonight on facetime! :)

Y/N: haha u know me so well, and yes you’ll see me tonight ;) (but I still miss u)

Bucky: I know doll I hate it too, see you tonight. Love you <3

Y/n: love you too <3

You didn’t know if you could go until late Monday without seeing bucky. As you laid on the couch smiling sadly about missing your love, an idea popped into your head. He was only two and a half hours away, and he wouldn’t be back at his hotel for another 4 hours at least. Fuck it, you were gonna go drive to his hotel and surprise him. You couldn’t be away so long, you felt super clingy this weekend and you needed to be on top of with him.

You quickly ran around your apartment, packing an overnight bag and you saw the package that arrived earlier on your floor that you completely forgot about because you couldn’t stop thinking of Bucky. You remembered its contents e(a completely evil lingerie set) and threw it in the bag with a smirk on your face.

The drive to Bucky’s hotel felt like forever and you had to remind yourself to stop speeding because you were so excited. When you finally got to his hotel, you had to convince the manager to give you a key to his room, proving that you were the man’s girlfriend with several pictures on your phone which was slightly embarrassing because in almost every picture, at least one of you was half-naked. Worth it. You thought. When you arrived in his room you quickly went into the bathroom to change into a little black dress (with a surprise underneath). Then as you were sitting on his bed waiting for him, you realized it would still be a while before he would get back, so you decided to tidy up his things, packing his clothes and organizing his suitcase. Pleased with your work, you sat back down on the bed and looked at your phone for a while. You finally got pulled out of your Instagram daze when you heard Bucky’s voice in the hallway laughing at something a coworker said. You quickly threw your phone on the dresser, straightened up you dress, and sat at the edge of the bed with a huge smile on your face, giddy to surprise him.

As he turned the doorknob he was still looking behind him talking to the man. When he finally said goodbye and turned his head around, his eyebrows raised up and his jaw dropped, which was quickly replaced with a smile even larger than yours.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, running towards you and throwing his briefcase on the floor.

He picked you up in a tight hug and you squealed, legs immediately wrapping around his waist.

“I told you you’d see me tonight!” you said, still clung to him like a koala.

“W-what?” He replied, still in shock. Letting your legs fall back to the floor.

“I just missed you too much” you shrugged.

If any human could embody “heart eyes” it was Bucky at that moment- he’s such a softie for you. He pulled your face towards him and gave you one of the most loving kisses you’ve ever had in your life. You were expecting it to be passionate and rough, but it was soft, delicate and loving, and your heart melted into a puddle. After your lips parted, you gazed into each other’s eyes before being pulled up in another tight hug. You giggled and wrapped your legs around him again.

“I guess you missed me too huh?” you laughed.

“Oh doll, you have no idea.”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, massaging his neck and he moaned loudly.

“Mm, that feels nice.” He hummed.

“You tired baby?” you asked, he seemed like he needed some TLC (and you were ready to give it to him).

“I am so exhausted.” He replied, making you frown behind his back.

You slowly slid down his body, back onto your feet again, and kept massaging his head. He looked at you lovingly before looking around his hotel room, his eyebrows pulled in confusion.

“Did you clean up in here?”

“Yep, while I was waiting for ya,” you replied, smiling.

His whole face softened.

“Oh, I really don’t deserve you doll.” Making you smile and shake your head.

“Oh yes you do.” You replied making him smile and his heart flutter in his chest.

He pulled you in for another kiss, this one with more fire and longing in it than the last one. His large hands grabbed you ass to pull you closer to him and you moaned into the kiss. You pressed your body against him even tighter and ran your hands through his hair making him moan. You could feel his pants tent start to grow against you and you smirked and moved you lips down to the side of his neck making him groan.

You pull back and look at him, hard and eyes half lidded, it turns you on so much you feel your panties dampening.

“Hey Buck?” you whisper, lips mere inches apart.

“Hmm?” he hums in response.

“I have another surprise for you.” You whisper into his ear before pulling back to look at his face.

“What’s that, doll?” he whispers.

You smirk and step away from him, noticing the confusion on his face before you pull your dress over your head and throw it onto the floor.

Bucky’s jaw drops, making you bite your lip and smirk even more. This was gonna be fun.

“Oh, fuck me,” He groans.

“Oh, I fully intend on it, Buck” you smirk.

He just groans and starts walking towards you.

“Buck?”

“Yeah sweets?”

“Wanna be mine tonight?”

“Fuck, I’ll be yours forever doll.” He says, making you whimper. You pull him against you by his tie, pressing your bodies together.

Your lips crash and tongues swirl together fighting for dominance. Hands moving up and down each other’s bodies like animals. Bucky squeezing your ass so tight you know there’s gonna be marks.

You both pull back enough so you can shimmy off Bucky’s tie and throw it over his head before unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off him. You then sink to your knees and undo his belt quickly before slowly unzipping his pants, kissing the outside of his member though his pants making him exhale a breath sharply.

“Fuck” he breathes out.

You don’t want to tease him too much (yet) so after another kiss, you shove his pants off and lay down on the bed, his body caging you under him.

The passionate makeout session resumes with Bucky still hard in his boxers pressing against your clothed core. You suddenly remember what you wanted and pull back from the kiss.

“Wait, no” you whisper.

Bucky pulls back, confused and nervous he did something to hurt you.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

You take advantage of his confusion and roll him over so you were straddling him with a smirk on your face.

Bucky moans at your actions, core pressing tight against him.

“You said you’d be mine.” You breathe over his lips. Moaning as being in charge is giving you a whole rush of feelings and confidence.

You kiss him, and he lets you dominate the kiss this time, biting his lips and grinding on him. He bucks his hips onto your and you pull back.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Bucky moans at your words as you start to kiss all the way down his body, leaving little hickies down his chest. When you get towards his boxers he thinks your gonna kiss his member or pull down his boxers, but instead you go back up his chest, licking a stripe from his belly button all the way to one of his nipples, up his neck, to his lips.

Bucky moans, loud. You give him one more kiss before deciding to stop teasing him (kinda). You quickly kiss down his chest again and then plant a few kisses on his aching cock through his boxers. He bucks his hips and is whimpering under you. Fuck, that turns you on. Your big strong boyfriend who could probably crush you with one arm, whimpering and practically begging under you. Your panties are fucking soaked and you don’t think you can deny your own pleasure too much longer. You pull down his boxers and his cock is throbbing and dripping precum.

“Shit” you moan at the sight.

You lick the precum off him and he gives a high pitched moan that goes straight to your core.

“Baby please, I- I can’t.”

“Don’t worry baby I got you.” You reply as you take his full member into your mouth, sucking lightly.

Bucky moans and bucks his hips into your mouth. You push them back down and suck a few more times before getting off of him. He looks worried for a second before you slide your panties off and straddle his cock.

“Still wanna be mine?”

“Always” he replies.

You sink down onto him, jaw dropping and eyes closing at the feeling. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to him no matter how many times he’s been inside you. You both moan as his whole cock is finally buried inside you.

“Fuck Bucky, you feel so fucking good in me.” You moan, starting to rock your hips.

“God, I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Bucky continues to give low moans as you start to ride him.

“Fuck baby, I love you like this.” He says, making you start to ride him harder, moaning at his words.

His hands come grab your hips to help you ride him faster, harder.

“Baby- shit I’m close already.” He pleads.

“All for me? Shit baby aren’t I the lucky one?” You moan.

Bucky’s grip on your hips tighten and he starts to fuck up into you. He was about to blow.

You moan loudly at the feeling. “Cum in me baby please I need it.”

After a particularly hard thrust into your wet pussy you feel him spilling inside you. He lets out one of those vulgar high pitched moans and grunts that make your brain short circuit and your eyes roll back while your pussy clenches around him. You feel yourself getting close, but you want to give him another orgasm, so you sink down on him fully and slowly ride him, hearing him whimpering and moaning. You feel him get hard in you again (thank you supersoldier serum) and you rock back and forth on him. You reach down to rub your clit, but Bucky sees it and swats your hand away, replacing it with his metal one.

“Oh fuck” you moan at the cool sensation.

You start to bounce up and down on him again, the knot in your abdomen building and heating up. You feel yourself close to being undone as you ride him and his other hand runs up your body and squeezes your nipple through your thin lace bra. You moan and feel yourself clench around him, making him moan.

“Fuck- I’m gonna c-“ you get interrupted by the white hot explosion of your orgasm. Your eyes roll back, jaw hangs open and toes curl as you feel that release knock throughout your whole body, making you shake. You let out those high pitched moans and whines that only Bucky makes you feel.

Feeling you clench around him and watching your completely fucked out face, you feel Bucky’s thick cock twitch inside of you, and you moan as you feel him release in you again. Fuck that makes you feel good. So good you can’t think or move and you start to collapse on top of Bucky, but he slightly catches you and lays you down on his chest, both breathing heavy, with his cock still inside you, cum dripping all down your legs and onto Bucky.

You can’t speak, can’t think, the pleasure totally ruining you. After what feels like forever, you feel your breathing start to return to normal, as does Bucky’s, and you feel his hand rubbing up and down your back, grounding you back to earth from wherever on cloud nine you were.

You hum as you feel yourself finally calm down.

“Holy fuck, doll” you feel him lowly whine in your ear. You can only moan lowly in response.

“Baby that was fucking amazing.”

“Mmhmm.” You hum.

“…but I think I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep clenching around me.” He chuckles.

“oh shit, sorry,” you mumble out. You try to push up off of him but the farthest you got was placing your hands on his shoulders before your body gave up on you.

“Oh my God, I can’t move” you whisper. You’re so fucked out, your body won’t respond to your brain anymore.

Bucky moans at your words and slowly rolls both of you so youre on your side facing him. He reaches down and pulls his soft cock out of your pussy, moaning when he sees a burst of cum leaking from you.

You moan at the feeling of him exiting your body. You look him in the eyes and give him a lazy smile. His eyes sparkle back at you and his hand comes up to rub your cheek.

“Mm” you hum at the feeling.

“That was fucking incredible” he says, making you smile wider.

“I’m not disagreeing” you quip.

He chuckles lightly before saying “you gotta do this more often.”

“What, surprise you on business trips?” you question.

“No” he rolls his eyes and smiles, “Well yes actually, but I was talking about you absolutely taking charge tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirk.

“Fuck yeah doll, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard. You looked so damn sexy in charge.”

You look away from his eyes, shying at his words, but also they were giving you the confidence to look right back into his eyes and say “I agree” with a smirk.

“I love hearing those high pitched moans you make, It turns me on so much” you admit.

“You know, only you can get those noises out of me, doll” he chides. You blush and smile at him.

He chuckles and you bring his face towards yours and kiss him deeply, tongues meeting together. You both hum into the kiss as his hand rubs down the side of your body.

When you break the kiss, both of you needing a breath, he pulls your body towards him, resting your head on his chest. You hum in peace as he rubs your back.

“I love you so much Y/N” he says and you feel your heart absolutely burst in your chest.

“I love you so much too Buck,” you reply, lifting your head to peck him on the lips before placing your head back on his chest.

You lay in silence for a minute before your mind begins to wander again.

“Did you mean it?” you ask.

“Mean what, doll?”

“That you’ll be mine forever?” you ask. “I mean not just in the sexy way but that you’ll be with me forever?” you ramble out.

“God yes sweetheart, you’re the one for me.” He responds and you didn’t think your heart could explode anymore, but it just did.

You squeeze his shoulder with your hand before coming up to kiss him passionately again, almost crying at all of the love going though you.

“I promise I’m all yours forever too, Buck” you smile at him.

“Good,” he smiles back, and you rest back on his chest, eyes getting droopy.

“Night-night sweetheart.” You feel yourself smile in your sleep.

“Goodnight my love.” You reply, further cuddling into his chest. Bucky feels his heart combust in his chest. God, wasn’t he lucky to have you. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you, but he knew that he was going to assure you that you deserve the world every day for the rest of his life. He kissed the top of your head before falling into a deep sleep, content with his favorite person tight in his arms.