#I've run out of gifs of them for now

[overtake]

Weekend Warm-Up | 2024 Miami Grand Prix

[melanie-ohara]

Take Yourself Apart For Me - Chapter 2

Whumpuary2024, Day 08 - Prompt: "Help Me"

Shin confronts her deepest fear: asking for help

I'll level with you: I cried a bit writing this one

AO3 Here

Shin spent the next two days in the Mandalorian's bed. Despite her escape attempt, they never attempted to put her back in the restraints - maybe they thought her injury would keep her captive. Or maybe they trusted her not to kill them in their sleep. Ahsoka Tano had given her back her lightsaber and from the weight of it Shin knew she hadn't removed the power pack, and she wondered what Baylan would have expected of her now. Tano was a war hero, he had told her, and she had no chance against her. She would sense her intentions even in the deepest of sleep and cut her down in seconds. But Sabine was weak: barely able to use the Force unless her life depended on it, unbalanced, and with aggression that rivalled Marrok. Shin had bested her in every contest they'd had, and she could kill her without breaking a sweat. 

Her eyes shifted down to the drawings on the wall. Did she want to kill her?

Baylan had sent her to Lothal. Morgan Elsbeth sent her on Seatos. Thrawn sent her on Peridea. Not once had she decided for herself. 

The door opened and Shin rolled onto her side to face the wall before Wren could see her face. Murley's portrait looked up at her, and Shin felt that its stare was a little accusatory.

"Brought you food," Sabine said, with cheer that didn't sound forced, no matter how much Shin wished otherwise. She lifted her hand and Sabine pressed the carton into her fingers without complaint. As always, she'd already put the straw in for her.

At Huyang's insistence, Shin was on a liquid diet of blended protein infusion until she was fully healed, and the thick, flavourless gruel she had to suck down through a straw sometimes made her wish Feldspar had actually killed her. She could hear Sabine beside her, unwrapping a protein bar for her own breakfast, and wished her presence didn't comfort her so much. She was sick of eating alone.

"Your armour," she said, after a long silence broken only by Sabine's chewing. "I heard the droid saying."

"It's wrecked," Sabine said, trying and failing to sound flippant. 

Shin remembered Sabine kneeling under a barrage of blaster fire from the bandits that had once been her allies. "Why did you save me?" she asked abruptly.

She didn't need to look to know Sabine had shrugged before she answered. "Ahsoka saw something in you," she said. Neither of them spoke for a moment. "Why didn't you go back to Thrawn?" Sabine finally asked.

Shin closed her eyes. She wanted to reach out for her lightsaber, sitting on Sabine's desk on the other side of the room - not to attack, just to feel the weight of it in her hand for a while. Instead, she pictured it: the orange crystal sitting at the centre of the emitter matrix, the delicate twists and curls of the cables that ran along the core to the power cells, the thick insulation sheath and the metal hilt that sealed it away. 

"I don't know," she lied.

"Right," Sabine said, scrunching up the wrapper of her protein bar and getting to her feet. "Good talk."

She sounded annoyed, and it reminded Shin uncomfortably of the way Baylan had spoken when she was younger, and failed one of his drills or didn't put her all into an exercise.

"Wait," Shin said, before she could stop herself. She rolled onto her back to check that Sabine hadn't left, and saw her standing with her head cocked slightly and her hand on her hips as she looked at her. 

"Go on," Sabine prompted. Gently this time. 

Shin swallowed hard, and then nodded. "Baylan left me," she said. The words caught in her throat, but she got them out. She had barely admitted it to herself before now. "I… couldn't leave him."

Sabine sat down again. "He's family."

Shin shook her head. "We're not related. But I've never known anyone else."

Sabine moved her hand, and for a frightening moment Shin thought she might touch her. Instead, she just laid her fingertips gently on the edge of the mattress, an inch away from Shin's arm. Her nails were painted deep red.

"I lost my family too," Sabine said quietly. "My planet. And Ezra, twice now."

Shin looked away from her eyes. "I never had any of that," she said to the ceiling. 

Sabine tilted her head. "Well, not many people have an Ezra to lose."

Shin thought it might have been a joke, but she didn't feel like laughing. It would hurt too much anyway. Sabine sighed and Shin felt her weight shift like she was about to get up, and she opened her mouth just to stop her.

"I haven't felt anything since that day." 

Shin couldn't tell which of them was more surprised by what she'd said, but it was true so she didn't try and take it back. She did try to stop the tears welling in her eyes and the tightness constricting her throat, but it didn't work. Slowly, Sabine leaned forwards.

"I've been there," she said softly. Shin felt a tear breach the corner of her eye and roll down the edge of her cheek into her hair. 

"Then… can you help me?" she asked.

This time Sabine did reach out to her, and Shin tried not to flinch too obviously when her palm came to rest on her forearm. She could feel the warmth of her touch even through the sleeve of her shirt. 

"What do you need?"

*

Sabine took her weight as she guided her across the common room to the cockpit access, one of Shin's arms over her shoulders. Her instinct was to loop her own arm around Shin's waist, but she had noticed how little she liked to be touched without warning and instead left it pressed awkwardly between their bodies as they walked. She kept an eye on the white surgical patch Huyang had pressed over Shin's wound once the skin had healed enough, looking for signs that she'd torn her stitches again, but they made it to the cockpit without incident. She lowered Shin carefully into the pilot's chair and then took her usual seat once she was settled. 

Sabine flipped the intercom switch. Ahsoka had left early to scout the mountain path ahead, but Huyang had stayed aboard with them. "Huyang, I'm taking us for a ride," she said.

"For what purpose?" the droid asked.

"Uh… We've been hovering for a week now, I want to run the engines for a bit. Make sure they don't dry out," she said, shooting a glance over at Shin. She was too busy familiarising herself with the cockpit to return it.

"This is a T6 Jedi Transport," Huyang complained. "The engines do not 'dry out'." 

"Ignore him," Sabine said. Shin was already ignoring both of them.

"Taking us out," she said, and tugged the yoke towards her. The ship rose gracefully into the sky and Shin accelerated a little as they climbed towards the clouds. Sabine watched her hands move over the controls with the ease of an experienced pilot and the care of someone who dearly loved to fly, and was reminded strangely of the way Hera flew the Ghost. She felt a pang of sadness then - Hera and Zeb and her old life were so far away now, and she would probably never see them again. Kanan was further away still.

"This suits you," Sabine told Shin, more to get out of her own head than anything else. It was true though: the other woman was sitting up straight with a look of calm concentration Sabine had never seen on her. When they fought, she looked feral - blistering focus and a vicious will to win - but now she looked in control.

"Baylan didn't like flying the ship," Shin said without taking her eyes off the wisps of cloud starting to break apart on the screen. "I taught myself."

She banked the ship a little faster than necessary and Sabine saw her relish the brief rush of G-force pressing them sideways into their seats. She didn't smile, exactly, but her wide unblinking eyes softened and the tension in her jaw eased for a moment. It returned quickly, though, and Sabine noticed her knuckles tense a little against the yoke.

"What is it?" she asked, and immediately regretted it. Shin hated her prying, but she couldn't help it.

Shin's lip twitched, but she answered the question. "The last time I flew, I was trying to kill you."

"That was you?" 

"You didn't know?"

Sabine thought for a moment, remembering the one-man fighter craft diving and twisting out of her gunsights every time she thought she had them locked. "The gold one," she said, and Shin nodded. "No wonder I couldn't hit you."

The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at Shin's lips, and Sabine let herself grin openly at the victory of finally cheering her up as Shin took one hand off the yoke to adjust the thrust vector of one of the engines, and then instead of putting it back on the controls she laid her hand, almost casually, on the console between them. 

Sabine stared, slackjawed and stunned, for several seconds. Then she looked up at Shin, who was looking very intently the other way. It was obvious, overt even, in a way she would never have expected from the woman who communicated in angry glares and five-word sentences. She almost didn't believe it, especially when Shin shied away from any attempt to touch her. Cautiously, Sabine moved her own hand - not close enough to touch Shin, but near enough that she would know she had noticed. She was reminded of facing off against her on Seatos, and the way she had read Sabine's guard and taken a counter-stance to match her. Sabine's heart was racing the same way, too. She looked over at Shin to see what she was going to do next. A barely perceptible blush rose on her cheeks under her gaze, and slowly, without taking her eyes off a point on the distant horizon, Shin moved her fingers out until they brushed against Sabine's own. 

Sabine couldn't help the gasp that slipped her lips, and she worried for a second that the sound made scare Shin off. Instead, when she looked over, she saw Shin looking back. She hadn't turned her head much, just enough that Sabine could see both of her pale, blue-green eyes. Her usual wide-eyed stare had softened, and now there was a definite smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

"Thank you, for this," Shin said. 

Sabine nodded slowly, and flicked out her tongue to moisten her lips. Cautiously, she lifted her little finger and let it drift gently across Shin's until she could curl it into the space between her third and fourth digit. Shin took her counter-stance: her little finger closed around Sabine's.

"So what happens now?" Sabine asked. 

"I don't know." This time she was telling the truth.

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Decided to delete my Bumble account, as it has consistently been one of the more disappointing Dating Apps for me

[swallowedabug]

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment

Summary: A trip to town to run errands has you questioning everything.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,719

Warnings: Ch 21 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, overstimulation, creampie, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, Ghost’s emotional constipation, unresolved sexual tension, angst, and of course fluff.

A/N: I don't think I've ever written the word panties as many times as I did here. Again, not much to say about this one, so I hope you enjoy!!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You stare at your face in the mirror. Wisps of hair stick to your forehead from the sweat starting to bead on your skin, your lips slightly parted as you breathe heavily. Your hands grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white from how hard you’re holding on for dear life. 

Your legs are trembling, quickly turning into jello. You lean forward more, resting your hips against the edge of the sink for stability. Your mouth falls open in a moan as it changes the position of the cock pistoning into you just slightly. 

Soft grunts leave Johnny’s lips as he fucks you in your bathroom, his thrusts urgent and desperate. Five minutes, he had groaned against your lips as he pushed your door open and walked you backwards into your room. 

It’s probably been longer than five minutes, but you’re hardly in the state of mind to care. He’s supposed to be halfway across the base by now, but you’re certain he doesn’t care either. It won’t take the others long to figure out what had made him so late, and you can almost guarantee John will make him pay for choosing to play hooky and having a quickie with you in the bathroom instead of going to training like he’s supposed to. 

One of his hands leaves the vice-like grip he’s had around your hips to slide to the front of your body, his fingers frantically rubbing circles over your clit. Your back arches in pleasure as the sensations become too much, your hips pushing back against his. He’s still dressed, his cargo pants pushed down over his ass just enough to free his cock. Your pants are around your ankles, underwear pushed to the side. Your shirt and bra are pushed up over your chest, your breasts out on display for him. His eyes haven’t left them in the mirror and the way they bounce with every rough thrust of his hips. 

“Jesus christ, yer gonnae kill me.” He groans as your pussy clamps tightly around him. 

He presses his chest to your back, his hand gripping the edge of the sink as you writhe in his arms. His fingers don’t let up on your clit as you cum, your legs trying to clamp around his hand. 

“Johnny!” You squeal as the sensation becomes overwhelming. “Too much!” 

“Ye can take it.” He groans in your ear, his voice breathy and hoarse from pleasure. “Just a little more.” 

All you can do is babble incoherently as he continues to slam his hips into your ass, his breaths heavy in your ear. You can feel the pressure building again despite the burning overstimulation of his fingers on your clit. 

“Please, please, please!” You pant, your head pressing back against his shoulder as you arch further against him. 

“Fucking love this sweet little cunt.” He growls into your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. “So fucking good fer me.” 

You’re cumming again, your knees buckling under you. His arm snakes around your waist, finally moving from your clit to hold you up. He lets out a loud, salacious groan as his hips slam into you one last time. You can feel his cock twitching as he cums, emptying his load inside you. 

His forehead presses against your back for a moment as you both attempt to catch your breaths. Your legs are still trembling as he begins to move, pulling his cock from you before he slides your panties back into place. He drags his hand over your covered folds, groaning quietly. 

“Better keep that in there.” He says, tugging your pants back up, doing the button for you and tugging the zipper back up. “Keep your mind on me the whole day.” 

You moan softly at his words, your pussy clenching out of instinct. He groans as he tucks himself back into his pants, staring down at your tits as you turn to face him. He curses, cupping them in his hands for a moment. 

“Fuck, I have tae go. Price is gonna kick my arse for bein’ late.” He leans down to kiss you, tugging your bra and shirt back down. “See ye at lunch, if I survive the wrath waitin’ fer me.” 

He leaves you there so casually, as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes fucking you relentlessly in your bathroom. Your legs are still trembling as you lean against the sink, your teeth sinking into your lip as Johnny’s cum begins to seep out of you. They’ll know, they’ll know exactly why he’s late with one whiff of his scent. He’ll smell like you, smell like the musky scent of sex and sweat. All hope of blaming it on something else is out the window. 

All you can do is pray John goes easy on him. It’s not like you haven’t made John late before, though usually both of you were late for meals because you decided you needed an appetizer, and it felt unfair to make him walk around half hard. You hope he can have a little sympathy for Johnny. If you’d said no, made him be on time to training, he might not have been able to focus at all. 

You still can’t be sure he’ll be able to focus, though. You’ve probably only succeeded in changing the trajectory of his thoughts. Instead of whistfully picturing himself fucking you, he will be thinking about how he fucked you. 

You wonder how John will punish him for being late and distracted. Pushups? Running? Maybe extra rounds running the obstacle course. Or maybe he’ll save the punishment for later. Maybe he’ll force Johnny to sit there and watch him fuck Johnny’s cum out of you, force Johnny to sit still and not touch himself or you. Maybe he’ll fuck you right over Johnny, your tits bouncing in his face just as he likes, but he’ll be restrained, forced to watch but not to touch. He’ll get all whiny, begging for any mercy as his cock gets all red and swollen, throbbing in time with John’s thrusts. 

Your pussy clenches at the thought, more of Johnny’s release seeping out of you. 

Fuck, you are going to be thinking about him all day. 

“Took your time, MacTavish.” John says, crossing his arms as the beta Sergeant saunters into the gym.

“Get your dick caught in a door again?” Simon asks, crossing his arms too. 

“More like he got his dick caught in a saucy little omega.” Kyle says, catching the overwhelming scent of sex and strawberries wafting off his fellow beta. 

Simon’s hands clench, his scent thickening just a little, but none of them seem to pick up on it. 

“Well, since you seemed to have more important things to do than your job this morning, you can go first.” John says, nodding to the mat. “Garrick, you’re up too.” 

Kyle makes his way to the middle of the mat, cracking his knuckles. Johnny saunters to the middle of the mat behind him, still riding the high of his quickie before joining them. Your scent is thick on his clothes, wafting into his nose, bringing back mental images of you bent over before him, tits bouncing in the mirror as he drove his hips into your ass over and over. Those sweet cries of pleasure, the way you shoot in his arms making his blood pump in his veins, the satisfaction making his head spin a bit. 

Kyle moves first, hoping to use Johnny’s seemingly distracted state against him. He aims for Johnny’s middle, but Johnny’s ready for it, blocking Kyle from getting his arms around him. 

Johnny uses the advantage, planting his feet firmly as he flips Kyle onto his back, pinning his fellow beta. Kyle yields, Johnny’s shoulder in his stomach not helping the spasm in his diaphragm from how he hit the mat. 

“Bloody hell.” Kyle gasps out, trying to catch his breath. “The fuck was that?”

“Just me beating you. Again.” Johnny smirks. 

“Yeah? Well I still have you beat on the course.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to stand. “Should work on your speed instead of your biceps once in a while.”

“Alright, you two.” Price says, stopping the argument before it becomes something more. “Garrick, get out of there.” He silently motions for Simon to take Kyle’s place. 

Simon moves onto the mat, staring down his beta. It’s not unfamiliar from the first time they ever sparred together. Simon has size and raw power to his advantage, but Johnny is quick on his feet. Johnny takes a defensive stance, planting his feet on the mat. Simon moves quickly, Johnny just barely managing to dodge his first hit. Simon catches Johnny's own swing aimed for his face, wrapping his arms around the beta to try and sweep him off his feet. 

His mistake is taking in a deep breath so close to Johnny's chest. 

The scent of strawberries flows straight into the back of his brain, igniting a fire in his veins. His blood is boiling, his instincts riding high off the scent of omega wafting off of his beta, creating an alluring cocktail that nearly blinds him. 

Simon rams his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach, the air leaving the beta’s lungs in a pained gasp. He flips Johnny onto his back, the back of his head smacking the mat. 

“Christ, I yield.” Johnny gasps, holding up his hands to stop Simon from continuing his assault. 

Simon’s hands are shaking, his breathing ragged. His mind is still reeling from the scent of omega on his beta. He shouldn’t be reacting this way to the scent of an omega he knows well, an omega he recognizes. He had accepted Johnny would want that kind of relationship with the pack omega early on, so why does he feel jealousy burning in the back of his mind. 

He leaves the training room, slamming the door behind him before heading outside, gulping down lungfuls of damp air free from the scent of omega. You weren’t even in the room and yet it was like you were standing before him, taunting him with your sweet scent. He leans against the outside wall of the gym, letting the air clear his head. Had they been alone and not in the middle of the base, he might have pulled off his mask, let the air touch his skin and dry the sweat that has slowly soaked into the fabric. 

He squeezes his eyes shut as the door opens, the gravel crunching under cautious steps. He can feel eyes on him, the prickling of his skin from the harsh, questioning gaze. It’s not the first time he’s found himself under the scrutinizing stare of his pack alpha. He’s used to it, the attention being on him. He's an officer, he's the one being looked to when things go wrong, when important decisions need to be made. He has to be aware, clear-headed, and focused at all times. 

That's the one thing he can't be right now. 

“It will get easier if you just give in.” Price says, leaning against the wall next to him. “I know you want to.” Price cuts him off before he can offer up any argument. “The longer you try to deny it, the worse things will get for you. I don’t want to have to question your ability to be successful in the field.” 

Simon swallows the lump in his throat, his mind reeling. He knows deep down Price is right. The longer he pushes away those thoughts, fights to keep those urges at bay, the more that tight rein on his emotions will slip. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath. He’s spent decades now mastering control, keeping things buried when he needs to. Then you come along and fuck everything up for him. 

It’s not fair to blame it on you. It’s not your fault. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You’re not even trying. You just exist around him and he's losing control. 

Price can report that to the stupid initiative program. 

“Is this going to become a problem?” Price asks him, giving him a pointed look. 

Simon sucks in another deep breath. Is it going to become a problem? Is he going to let it become a problem? He releases the breath, shaking his head to try and clear it. “No, sir.” 

“How are you doing?” 

“Better.” You say, stretching your legs out in front of you. “I didn’t have a nightmare last night.” 

“That’s great! Small improvements are still improvements.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down on her notepad. “How are things going with your pack? Have things settled since they returned?” 

You nod. “Yeah. For the most part. There’s still...something lingering.” You chew on your lip nervously. You can’t tell her what it is, the thing that eats you alive daily. She’d have to tell your pack, and then everything would come undone. “I’m worried that any day now they’ll have to leave me again.” 

“You won’t be alone this time, though.” She says, reminding you of what John had done for you. 

“I know, but...what if they don’t come back?” 

“That is an unfortunate reality, a risk you all have to live with. There’s not much that can be changed about that, but I know they’ll do everything in their power to return home to you.” ’ She gives you a soft smile. “They care about you a lot.” 

“But...they're supposed to put their jobs above everything else. That was part of this whole experiment. Their jobs come first, and I come second.” 

“But, Captain Price has already advocated against that by requiring one of them stay behind with you when they get sent out on assignments. That’s not putting their job above you.” 

She’s right. John fighting to make things more comfortable for you was them putting their priority on you and your comfort. Of course, John had told you they had only advocated for it at this point. There was no guarantee those in leadership would approve, that General Shepherd would approve, but he said he’d fight it as hard as he had to. It wasn’t always necessary for all of them to be sent out anyway, so it was more likely there’d be at least one, if not two of them with you most of the time.

“Besides,” Dr. Keller continues. “In my professional opinion, it’s not sustainable to expect them to have an omega in their pack and also expect them to neglect their omega in favor of their jobs. The whole point of the initiative is to see if the assimilation of omegas into military packs will be helpful or a hindrance. There has to be a balance if they want even a chance at this being successful. While their jobs and what they do is important, they can’t expect full dedication to that job while also trying to care for an omega.” 

You’ve never thought about it that way before. They had been so dead set in your briefings about how their jobs were more important than you and how you had to be prepared for anything to happen because their job always comes first. 

“It’s important to keep in mind that you are essentially the trial for this initiative. There’s going to be ups and downs, things they didn’t account for in their planning, if they did any real planning, and things that have to be adjusted as they come up. There’s just some things you can’t properly predict until the trial is taking place.” 

You haven’t really thought about it that way either. You are the first omega involved in this initiative, the trial run, the guinea pig. Is that why General Shepherd came to base and wanted to meet you? Is that why they wanted cameras in your room? To ensure things really were going properly, and everyone was doing what they were supposed to do? That things really are as fine as you, and likely John, have said? 

What if they think things are going badly? What if they think the initiative is a failure? What happens then? What can they really do now that you’ve been claimed and assimilated into the pack? 

“What’s going on in your head?” Dr. Keller asks softly. 

“What if...what’s going to happen if the initiative fails?” You ask. 

Dr. Keller hums, obviously not having expected that question. “Well, I don’t think there’s much they can do. They made it far enough in the planning that they thought it was worth the chance of a live trial with an omega and an established pack. They wouldn’t have taken that risk without the belief that it will be successful.” Dr. Keller crosses her legs, setting her notebook to the side. “If, and it’s a big if, it failed, then there’s not a lot they can do, legally. You’ve been claimed, which legally puts you under Captain Price’s care, and while the military is a grey area when it comes to legality, I doubt they’d run the risk of trying to remove you from the pack at this point.” 

“They’d run the risk of their task force falling apart.” You say, the pieces starting to come together. 

Dr. Keller nods. “Exactly. If your pack is as important as they appear to be, I doubt anyone involved in this would take that risk of losing such valuable soldiers. Forcibly removing you would turn your pack against them in the blink of an eye. All trust they have in their superiors will be turned on its head and destroyed completely. No matter how loyal they are to their jobs, that loyalty will shift very quickly should something happen to you at their hands.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, your heart rate starting to kick up. So you had made the right choice in keeping General Shepherd’s visit and the cameras a secret. The last thing you want is to ruin their lives over what was probably nothing, over something that would have been inconsequential in the end. Something they possibly know about already. 

That thought lingers constantly in the back of your mind. They know and they’re waiting for you to finally spill and reveal what happened. What happens then? How will they punish you for lying to them, for withholding important information, information that puts not only you, but them at risk as well? Will they ever forgive you for not telling them right away? Could you grovel and plead with excuses of fear and naivety? Could you lie again and claim you were scruffed? John already knows of your nightmares, of your fear. You’d have to think up a reason as to why you lied to him that night too, though. 

Lying will only dig you deeper and deeper into more lies until all their trust in you is broken beyond repair. 

The trust between you will still be broken if you tell them, though. 

“Have you been thinking of this a lot lately?” Dr. Keller asks, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You nod, dropping your gaze to your hands. “I overheard John and Simon talking about it the other night. Simon asked if this was worth it if it failed, and John seemed confident it wouldn’t.” 

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” You lift your gaze to meet Dr. Keller’s. Her face is as serious as her tone. “Your pack isn’t going to let anything happen to you. Pack loyalty to omegas is not something to be tested, especially not a pack as fierce as yours. They’d go to war for you, if they had to. I don’t doubt that one bit.” 

Your brows pull into a frown. “You really think so?” 

She nods. “I know so. You’re very lucky.” 

You are lucky. Things could have been much worse for you. 

“C’mon kitten,” Johnny says, barging into your room. 

You let out a startled shriek, nearly jumping out of your skin as you clutch your towel desperately around your naked, still slightly damp form. You just got out of the shower not too long ago, and had been deciding on what to wear on the warmest day you’ve experienced since your arrival in England when Johnny barged his way into your room. 

Barged may be a strong word for it. Your door wasn’t even closed all the way. 

Your heart is still thudding in your chest, your breaths slightly heavy as he digs through your closet, picking out clothes for you. “What the hell?” You breathe, adjusting your grip on your towel. “Scared the shit out of me.” 

Johnny turns, giving you a grin. “Sorry, kitten.” His eyes drop to where you’re clutching the towel, and you can practically see the idea flash through his mind, the idea to rip the towel off and lick every last droplet of water off of your body before having his way with you. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, trying to refocus his mind on what he was doing. 

His eyes snap back up to yours, his grin widening. “We’re goin’ on an excursion.” 

“Excursion?” You ask, barely managing to catch the clothes he throws at you and keep your towel up at the same time. 

“Got some errands tae run in town, an’ yer comin’ with us.” He looks you over. “So get your claes on and meet us outside.” 

You blink at him as he leaves your room, not bothering to close the door behind him. You stare down at the clothes in your hands, a t-shirt and the skirt that’s been hanging in your closet that you had yet to even try on. Of course he’d pick something like that for you to wear. You’re tempted to go without underwear, but that’s probably exactly what he wanted. If you were staying in the barracks, then you might have done it, but being out in public you don’t want to risk a stray breeze. The last thing you need is some alpha seeing it as an opportunity and trying something stupid. 

You finish getting ready, drying yourself off and getting dressed before pulling on a pair of comfortable shoes. Your hair is still slightly damp as you make your way out of the barracks, a car pulled up outside as you expected. 

“You promise to drive carefully?” John is saying, holding the keys up in front of Johnny. 

“Of course.” Johnny says, looking past him to grin at you. “There’s precious cargo on board.” 

“I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” John says, giving him a look before dropping the keys into Johnny’s hand. John turns to you, staring down at you for a moment before leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Let me know when you get there.” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. 

You nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek before getting into the car. 

You’re surprised to see Simon sitting in the passenger seat. You had expected maybe Kyle would be tagging along, or even John, but this is something entirely unexpected. He’s in his beanie and face mask combo again, the same thing he’d been wearing when he and John took you to town before your heat. 

The night he bought the ingredients to make you enchiladas. 

It still brings a warmth to your chest when you think about it, that he did that for you. It had been his idea to do it, his idea to bring you some comfort during the stress and insecurity your approaching heat had brought on. He does care about you, in his own way. He’s been showing it, at least for the most part, looking back on your interactions with him. 

He has to care about you, if he’s willing to do this. 

It wasn’t his decision, you know that. Johnny was likely forcing him to come along, either to appease John’s concerns, or in case of an incident. Not that Johnny’s not fully capable of handling a situation on his own, but having an alpha at your back makes it less likely someone would try something at all. 

The fact John is trusting them with you speaks volumes of his trust in his pack, in his second alpha. You know they won’t let anything happen to you, they’ll protect you just as fiercely as if you were their omega. 

You could be, if he wanted it. 

You push that thought to the back of your mind as Johnny climbs into the driver's seat, the car rumbling to life.

Johnny isn’t a terrible driver. Despite the many stories you’ve heard over the last few weeks, you had been expecting worse. Kyle had been right, of course, he takes the speed limit as more of a suggestion, and weaves around on the road, passing slower cars and farm equipment in ways that are probably not legal. Despite that, you’re not gripping the seat in fear or holding on for dear life. You had been expecting much worse when he climbed into the driver’s seat. 

Though, from what you’ve heard, Johnny is the most preferable of the two in the car when it comes to driving. 

The farmlands fade into civilization as the buildings grow closer and closer together. It’s only your fourth trip into town, but yet you’ve already begun to recognize landmarks, businesses. You could navigate if you had to, something you know they’d be proud of. You wonder if Simon would praise you for that, considering how annoyed he always seems to be about how much time you spend lost in your own thoughts. 

Johnny pulls into a parking spot on the street, and you send a quick text to John to let him know you made it in one piece. Johnny opens your door for you, offering you a hand. You take it, letting him help you out before he laces your fingers together, squeezing your hand gently. 

You’re glad you wore comfortable shoes as you walk around with them, picking up a few items from different shops. Johnny keeps hold of your hand, Simon walking behind the two of you like a protective shadow. The people you pass on the street give you a wide berth, and you know it’s Simon’s doing as their eyes skirt past you and Johnny to the big alpha trailing you. You can imagine the silent threat behind his eyes, daring them to even think of trying anything. 

“The last stop.” Johnny says, pausing in front of a familiar storefront. 

You’ve been here before, the day of your first date with John when he’d taken your virginity. The lingerie shop where you’d gotten those lacy panties the guys seemed to admire so much. Your cheeks warm as Johnny opens the door for you, the stark reminder of who you’re with suddenly snapping into your mind. This trip definitely was Johnny’s doing. Did he even know this was a stop that you were going to make? If he did, he probably wouldn’t have come along and talked Kyle into it instead. 

Or maybe he did know and he did want to come along. 

Or, maybe, Johnny pouted at him and begged until he had no choice but to agree. 

The answer is likely the latter. 

 You wonder if he’ll stay outside, or perhaps even return to the car in favor of stepping into a lingerie store. You can’t imagine him inside, the hulking alpha among the delicate lace and fabrics. A bull in a china shop. 

You’re surprised when he enters behind you, looking about as uncomfortable as you expected him to in a place like this. His shoulders are squared, hands opening and closing into fists at his sides. He’s looking everywhere but at what’s on the racks, his gaze flicking around the store instead, taking stock of everyone inside shopping. 

You let Johnny take the lead, Simon keeping his distance as you peruse the racks. You’re not just there to replenish your quickly dwindling stash of lacy underwear, you realize as Johnny begins flipping through items on the racks. He’s got some other ideas for you as well. You can see the wheels turning in his head, the concentration in his eyes as he looks over his options. 

Your face gets warmer and warmer as he holds things up in front of you, studying you and the lingerie. He’s picturing you in it, most likely in lewd positions. You’re close to combusting out of bashfulness, but also from the fire igniting under your veins. You’re trying to keep it under control, trying to keep things as discreet as possible for the sake of the other shoppers in the store. The last thing you want is to draw any unwanted attention and cause a scene. 

“That’s definitely the one.” He says, holding up a purple mess of lace and straps. You’re not sure how you’re going to get into it, much less what it will look like while you’re wearing it, but he seems to know what he’s looking at, so you’re not going to contradict him. You might just need his help getting into it, which you’re sure he won’t complain about. 

Your skin prickles as you continue to follow Johnny, warning bells going off in the back of your head. 

Someone is staring at you. 

You lift your gaze from the rack Johnny is flipping through, scanning the store to try and find who it is that’s staring at you so intently. It’s not Simon where he’s lingering against the back wall trying to avoid touching anything like it might infect him with some deadly disease, or give him the mental image of you in it. 

The prickling of your skin feels too different from the prickling you usually feel when his gaze is on you. Someone is watching you, yet the shoppers and even the employees in the store are in their own little worlds, going about their business and paying you no mind. You step closer to Johnny, your arm brushing his. It’s not unlike the feeling you get in your room, the idea that there were cameras in there, that there still might be one that you missed. That paranoid tickling down your spine that you might be being watched at any moment. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, looking up at you as you step even closer to him. 

Warmth presses against your back, making you flinch just slightly in surprise. You nearly panic, until the familiar scent of leather and eucalyptus washes over you. 

“What is it?” Warm breath fans your ear, calloused fingers ghosting down your bare arm. 

“I-I think someone’s watching us.” You say quietly, leaning into both of them. 

Both of them straighten up, and you can imagine their gazes scanning the store, profiling every single customer and worker, picking up things you could only dream of noticing. Simon’s fingers wrap around your arm, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to offer a little support as they look for the culprit of your paranoid feelings. 

There’s no tickling at the back of your neck signaling your brain picking up on a change to Simon’s emotions. Neither of them seem to pick up on a possible threat. Perhaps it’s all just in your head, some sort of trauma response after being cooped up on base for so long paired with what happened while they were away. There are cameras in the store. You are being watched. Maybe it’s just trauma fueled paranoia after all. 

Simon lets go of your arm to step up close to Johnny, speaking quietly to him. You’re not listening, your eyes scanning the store again. You slide closer to Simon, the prickling feeling of being watched gone now. Your hand lifts, fingers wrapping around his forearm, his skin warm under your touch. You’ve never been quite this close to him, this physical, that wasn’t out of necessity before. It’s exciting, the prospect of being so open with him. Just the thought that he noticed your discomfort, picked up on your worry like that makes your omega want to roll over and show her belly. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his eyes flickering between you and Simon. 

Your gaze snaps back to him, and you nod without even thinking about it. “Yeah.” 

“You two go an’ pick out some new skids, I’m almost done.” He says. They must not have noticed anything worthy of being concerned about, nothing that could lead them to thinking there’s a threat. 

It’s just like what happened that morning when you asked Simon to open the door to your room all over again. 

Suddenly the mood shifts back to what it was at Johnny’s words, Simon shifting uncomfortably next to you. You can feel his muscles flex under your hand as he clenches his fists, letting out a long breath. 

You shake off the paranoia and the worry, putting your trust in them should something happen. You drop your hand from his forearm to his wrist, tugging lightly on his arm. “Come on. They’re just panties. They don’t bite.” You grin teasingly up at him. 

“Bloody hell.” He groans before letting you tug him over to the section of the store with the underwear. 

You find the ones that you had gotten before, grabbing one in every color. Simon stands to the side like a guard dog, arms crossed, trying to look as manly as possible amongst the lace and ribbons. You pick up a couple more in Johnny’s favorite color, the beta approaching you both. 

“Look what I found.” He grins wickedly, holding up a pair of panties.

You nearly choke as you stare at them, Simon shifting just slightly behind you. In Johnny’s hands are a pair of black cheeky panties with lace edges. They wouldn’t be anything special, had it not been for the skull pattern on the fabric. 

Your face warms as you stare at them, the meaning not lost on you. Of course Johnny would find something like that in a store with probably hundreds of pairs of underwear. You can’t help but think he might have been looking for something like that this whole time. 

Johnny steps up to you, turning you around to face Simon. His back brushes your chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding the panties up in front of your chest. 

You wish you could see Simon’s face. All of his face. His jaw is clenched, his eyes burning as he stares at the underwear in Johnny’s hands. His whole body is tense, the tendons and muscles in his forearms bulging from how tightly he’s clenching his muscles. A bead of sweat runs down your back from the intensity of his stare, his gaze shifting from the underwear to your face. They flicker back and forth, almost like he doesn’t quite know which is worse to look at: you or the panties. 

His body tenses even more, his gaze finally settling on the underwear. He’s imagining you in them. You can see it, the way his eyes get darker and darker, his scent thickening. Several thoughts run through your head as you stare at him, your stomach fluttering as you suddenly come to a realization. You lift your hands, taking the underwear from Johnny, continuing to hold it in front of your chest. 

“Fucking hell...” Simon breathes, his hands dropping to his sides, still tightly closed into fists. 

“Would...” You clear your throat, trying to shake the waver from your voice. “Would you like to see me in them?” 

His gaze snaps to yours, and it nearly has you running for cover. He looks like he wants to simultaneously devour you and bend you over the nearest table. The primal urge to run tickles in the back of your brain, to run and let him chase you. 

He looks like he would do it, too. 

Have you been misreading his actions towards you? You never thought he’d feel like that about you. Was his reluctant tolerance, his drive to keep you at arm’s length less because he disliked you, and more because he likes you too much?

His behavior and his actions begin to make sense the more you think about it. He’s not keeping you at arm's distance because he doesn't like you, because he doesn’t think you don’t belong with them. He’s not afraid of the weakness you might cause in the pack, the disruption you’ve brought to their lives. He’s afraid of how you’re making him feel. 

Has he ever been in love? Has he ever held feelings for another before Johnny? Did he even want to have feelings for Johnny in the first place, or did Johnny force his way in until Simon finally accepted he can’t change the way he feels? 

You’re not trying to invoke that kind of response from him. You’ve respected his boundaries, kept him at arm’s distance as much as you could to try and avoid making him hate you, to try and avoid ruining all the work you’ve put into just making him accept you as part of the pack. 

Maybe you had been trying in all the wrong ways. 

All the things he did for you, all the ways he treated you suddenly make sense. His disappointment at your neglecting him on the tarmac should have made it obvious to you. 

Hell, he’d let you spoon him the very next morning like it was nothing. 

Does he want to be your second alpha? Even if he doesn’t, does he want to push past that barrier and open up to that kind of relationship with you? The bond you have with him is hardly even platonic, a weak thread connecting you built out of proximity and interaction. The bond you have with Dr. Keller is stronger, and she’s not even part of your pack. 

Does he want to build that bond with you? 

Looking at him has your body warming, a fire igniting under your skin. You can’t handle it anymore, the intensity of his stare threatening to make you do something indecent in this lingerie shop. 

You turn to face Johnny, certain steam has to be rising off your body at this point. You shove the pile of panties into his hands, including the one with skulls on them. “We’re getting them.” You say, trying to ignore the grin pulling at his lips. 

You take half a second to breathe as the tension in the air is cut off, another shopper passing by, giving the three of you a look. You’re sure you’re projecting your scent, and you can imagine just how much Simon’s scent has taken over the store. 

Johnny carries the armful of lingerie to the checkout and you follow behind him, Simon bending down to whisper something in his ear before heading for the door. You watch him step outside, moving until he’s just visible through the glass from the register. You have half a mind to follow him, half a mind to confront him and ask him for an explanation, ask him why he felt it necessary to hold you at arm’s length when there’s a chance he’s been feeling this way the whole time. 

You don’t, instead sticking close to Johnny’s side as he pays far too much for the lingerie. Your heart is still racing from the exchange with Simon, your hands shaking just a little as Johnny hands you the bag. His hand is warm on your back as he guides you from the store, Simon turning as you approach him. 

“Let’s grab somethin’ to eat, then we’ll go.” Johnny says, leading you back towards the car. 

“We need to talk.” 

You almost turn tail and run as Simon’s gaze snaps up to meet yours. He sits there, frozen for just a moment, before he slowly lowers his phone, sliding it into his sweatshirt pocket. You don’t sit down on the couch next to him, instead you remain standing, wanting to keep the energy in the room in your favor. You know if you sit, your brain will slip into submission to the large alpha. At least looking down on him, you have more of a chance at keeping that illusion of dominance. 

“I want to know how long.” You say, taking half a step closer to him, one foot planted, the other half raised, ready to bolt in case this goes south. “I want to know how long you’ve had feelings for me.” 

His gaze hardens as he stares up at you, and despite your position of dominance, you wish he’d take off his mask just so you could read his face, read his reactions. You can’t back down, though. Not now, not when things have come to a head between you. There’s no going back, there’s no playing pretend anymore. You can’t move on after the events earlier in the lingerie shop.

“I want to know the truth.” You say, not backing down. You won’t submit to him so easily this time. 

“When you punched that asshole Corporal.” He says, looking away from you to stare at the black screen of the television. “Allen. Proved you weren’t just some weak, pathetic omega that was only going to slow us down, make us work twice as hard to keep you alive.” He snorts softly. “That first night with Johnny.” He continues, his voice softer than it had been. “That’s when it changed. He yapped the whole morning about what happened, what you two did, like a bloody slag.” 

Your face warms at the idea of Johnny spilling all the intimate details. It doesn’t upset you as much as it probably should, though it wasn’t like they couldn’t all hear it happening. Simon especially, sharing a wall with him. He probably could have recounted the whole thing himself if he’d wanted to. 

“I wanted to hate you. Fucking tried so hard to, but you make it so bloody hard.” He shakes his head. “I’m not supposed to.” 

A frown pulls at your brows as you listen to him. As an alpha in the pack, he technically could if he wanted to. You’re certain John wouldn’t have a problem with it, in fact he might encourage it, if it gets rid of the stick that’s been up Simon’s ass since your arrival, or maybe even before then. 

“I-I don’t understand.” You say, stepping closer to him. 

“I can’t.” He snaps, wheeling around to face you. You freeze in your approach, your weight shifting back in case you need to run. “I can’t.” He repeats, his voice softer, the tenseness in his shoulders deflating as he diverts his gaze. “It’s too dangerous.” 

Your frown deepens as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ll only hurt you.” He shakes his head. 

You understand it now. Those four words have given you all the explanation you need to understand his hesitation, his predicament, why it’s taken him this long to openly admit his feelings, to accept them. 

You bravely continue your approach until you’re standing right next to him. His gaze is anywhere but on you, seeming very small despite his hulking size. “You’re not going to hurt me.” You say, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I know you won’t. If...if you’re worried about turning out like your father, then that’s enough proof that you won’t. You know, you’re aware, so you can stop it.” He goes to turn away, but you stop him, catching his wrist in your hand. “We don’t have to. If you’re not comfortable enough then that’s okay. I have that need filled plenty.” You plop down on the couch next to him as you lift his hand to your face, pressing his bare palm into your skin. “But I wouldn’t stop you, if you wanted to.” 

His hand is big and warm as it slowly relaxes against your face. His eyes meet yours, staring deep into them. You stare right back, not letting his size or the intensity of his gaze force you to submit. His thumb drags along your cheekbone, his calluses scratching across your skin, but that’s a feeling you’ve become very used to. You press your hand against his, your fingers trembling just slightly from the emotion and the intensity of the moment. 

“It’s not just me that might hurt you. I’ve made enemies, people that would do anything to get back at me.” He says quietly. 

You shrug. “So does everyone in this pack. That was a risk I was made well aware of before I was sent here. That’s why I don’t know jack shit about what any of you do. That’s why I’m basically non-existent and invisible except to a select few. I used to think about it, when I first arrived here. What if something happened to me because of your jobs? What if someone found out about me?” You shrug again, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “That’s a risk we all signed up for, right?” 

He stares at you for a while, his hand still pressed against your cheek. You wish you could read his mind, see the thoughts turning those wheels behind his eyes. You wish he was an open book, something you could breeze right through like the ones on the shelves. Instead, he might be the most closed off person you’ve ever met. You’ve never even seen his face 

Slowly he begins leaning forward, his gaze never leaving yours. If it hadn’t been for the mask, you might have thought he was leaning in for a kiss. You might have leaned in for a kiss, had he not been wearing the mask. Instead he leans forward until your foreheads are touching, his gaze finally leaving yours as his eyes flutter closed. You finally relax yourself, melting into him slightly as you sit there, breathing in the quiet moment. Something’s shifting, something’s changing between the two of you. 

You’re not quite sure how it’s going to end, but you can’t deny the bond beginning to form between you and Simon. 

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

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[volensnolenss]

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄

summary: working as a doctor is so exhausting, especially at jujutsu tech, however, when your man is around, everything becomes different;

content: nsfw!mdni, mention of blood, riding, nipple play, dirty talk, praising, clothed sex, blow job, creampie, cum eating;

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento;

GOJO:

“don't lie, i know perfectly you can heal yourself with reversed cursed technique” you roll your eyes and examine the wound on his chest; a maroon stain protruded under his t-shirt, “sugar, you're not going to leave me to die?” gojo is watching the movement of your hands, which lift his clothes. you just click at him in response, and he grins at your outraged face.

you don't have time to put your palm to his wound, as suddenly it disappears, and satoru grabs your hand, pulling you to him, “missed you so much” he murmurs, burrowing into your hair, “oh, really?”you flirt by putting both palms to gojo's face, and his eyes immediately light up with fire.

“yeah, baby, keep it going" he whistles animatedly at you while you ride on his cock, capturing its entire length, “so good” you whisper, moving your hips and arching your back, creating the perfect angle for your pussy, “then go ahead, pretty” the corner of gojo's mouth stretches out and his hand squeezes your chest, making your nipple tense.

“ngh... satoru, you're- mhh” getting lost in your own growing sensations of his thick cock against and spreading your walls, your pussy throbs as he licks your breast and slightly biting your nipple. “come on, baby, make a mess on my cock” he smiles and his abs are straining with every thrust you make — his shaft is pounding you so deeply that you can feel every inch of it, “i'm cumming” you moan, digging your nails into gojo’s chest

“that’s it, sweet…” his voice is strangled and tense, experiencing his orgasm, he looks at your cunt soaked in your juices. you’re groan and stood up, trying to clean yourself up, “so fast?” he gets dressed and arches his eyebrow at the fact that you look like nothing has happened, “don’t forget who i am” you grin.

GETO:

he quietly came to you and crept up unnoticed, suguru's hands lay on your hips, “suguru” you stretch out his name and turn to him and, smiling, you kiss briefly, “is something bothering you?” you address him while he adjusts your hair, “just you” he grabbed you by your waist.

geto pushes you to your desk, pressing his groin against your ass, “that's a problem” you were dazed by his movements — he lifted your skirt and roughly tore your tights with a bang, “mhh, suguru” you're meowing when his fingers rub your aching pussy, “so wet for me already?”he grunted, pushing your underpants aside, and a slight chill washed over your skin.

“so pretty for me right now” he stroked his hard cock and pressed his tip to your soaking wet cunt, “ahh, suguru-” you whine while every inch of his length thrusts into you, “fuck, baby, you're so tight” suguru grumbles, accelerating with each thrust. your soft walls embrace his cock, moans come from your pouty lips from each of his tireless movements.

his hand roughly squeezes your wrists, fastening them to your back, continuing to bang his hips against your ass, “you're taking me so well, sweetheart” suguru coos to you, listening to your whimpering and watching you squirm under the pressure of approaching orgasm, “i ca-an't, suguru, feeling good” tears have accumulated in the corners of your eyes, “wait, baby, I'm close just wait” he growls, spasms run through him, cumming profusely into you.

geto gently removes the tears from your eyes, settling between your legs, which are still slightly shaking, “my girl, you were great” his hands gently stroke your skin, relieving you of tension.

NANAMI:

“nanami, honey, what happened to you?” your eyes widened when you noticed a reddening spot on his side, “i've miscalculated,” he sighs, answers briefly and unbuttons his shirt. you can't look away from his perfectly chiseled muscular figure. men like him are really one in a billion.

of course, kento knows that you are a sweet girl and she is excited by your slightest touch every time, and this time when you treated his wound, he tensed up, especially when you touched his abs, “everything is okay?” you're surprised he wants to leave so soon,“ i have a lot of work today. thanks” he's about to get up, but you notice a bump on his trousers and giggle softly, “relax, i'll help you.”

“does that feel good?” you wrap your hand around his cock, pressing your thumb on its tip, smearing pre cum, “darling, i think-” nanami bites his lips, his cheekbones become sharper when you kiss his shaft. a moan escapes his lips, his fingers grab your hair. you're doing it perfectly — kento can't express it by focusing on how you swallow his fat cock more and running your hand the rest of the length.

“yes… yes, like that” he whispers, looking at your moist lips and lowered fluffy eyelashes. you shake your head and moan softly when his cock rests against your throat. nanami swallows, his hip slightly rising towards you. you lose your composure, moving away from him, you run your hand more sharply over his wet cock, pushing him to the edge.

“hell, I'm close-” his cock throbs in your hand, he swears under his breath when his cum covers yours and tongue, continuing to lick his swollen tip, “i need you more often” he grinned, rubbing your lips and tracing their contour with his finger, he pushes it into your mouth.

[cheriladycl01]

First time - Lando Norris x Innocent! Reader

Plot: Lando finds out his girlfriend is more innocent than he ever thought and that turns him on hard core.

Warnings: SMUT Innocence Knik etc MINORS DNI 18+

Credit to princemick for the GIF

When Lando first started dating you he knew you were pretty innocent and oblivious to the world around you.

The first time he noticed it was when he first met you. You were in a club and he sat back watching you the whole night, run around like mother hen after your friends who ... arguably weren't being good friends to you and were using you as their sober ride home.

You were making sure your friends had clean drinks straight from the bartender and handing them tissues or hand gels when they touched anything dirty.

Your friends had left you that night, leaving Lando to take the opportunity to come and introduce himself. He wasn't shocked to find out this was your first time in a club, that you hated it and wanted to go home.

"So, what brings you to Monaco?" he'd asked you and you gave him this big gummy grin that he couldn't help but fall in love with.

"My friends and I are on a girls trip celebrating graduation!" you answered, trying not to yell incase the music went quiet but loud enough so he could hear.

"And that's why they've all abandoned you?" he chuckled walking you over to the bar.

"Yeah, I think they just have different ideas of fun than I do, we saw some really beautiful museums earlier which was my idea!" you smile thinking back to the earlier part of the day which you had favoured.

"Drink?" he asks you and you smile nodding your head.

"I'll have a Coors again and ..." he says naming his beer before looking at you.

"I'll just have a Spite please!" you order in French from the bartender who smiles at you.

"You can order something more expensive like alcohol i don't mind!" he smiles down at you, only for you to shake your head.

"I erm, don't drink! I've never drank alcohol actually!" you smile, pretty proud of you lifestyle.

"Yeah, I used to say I didn't drink and then my friends introduced me to it. Never been the same since!" he frowns in a joking manner making you laugh.

"You're funny!" you giggled.

You guys talked for the rest of the night, until it was the closing hours of the club and you had to part ways.

He'd regretted not getting your number.

The next time he met you was a complete coincidence. He was travelling around and caving in Vietnam. You were there building sustainable housing on your year after graduating. He knew it was you right away and everyone was so confused when he went running of to go say hello to you.

After that he got your number. He had to secure it after a second chance of meeting you which he'd been considering was gods gift to him.

After a few dates and texting back and forth for a while you started dating.

"Y/N, can we talk about something serious?" he'd asked you and you nodded coming to sit next to him on the sofa in his apartment.

"Yeah what's wrong?" you ask him with a frown thinking you'd done something wrong.

"How would you feel, about becoming my girlfriend..." he asks before presenting you with a little gift bag in papaya orange that had chocolates, flowers, a little card and a pair of expensive Cartier earrings. Not that you knew that until you got back to the hotel you were currently staying in and opened them up.

"Oh my! Yes! Please" you replied happily and he was trying so hard not to laugh at your super polite and formal answer to his ... well what now felt like a proposition

You were so happy and getting to spend time with Lando was everything! You came to races and everyone adored you, not just the people in McLaren with Lando but all the TV presenters, the fans and the other teams.

Lando was confused that after having dated for three months you hadn't done anything within a sexual nature. Not that it was an issue for him but he was just used to his girlfriends being bold and upfront compared to you, who was a little shyer and more reserved.

He knew he just needed to be a grown up and talk to you about it but he didn't think he could have this conversation with you. It felt wrong almost.

"Baby, can we talk?" Lando says patting the sofa while you were in the kitchen starting to prep for the lunch you were going to make the both of you.

"Yeah, what's wrong? Did I do something?" you ask looking at him carefully and taking a seat next to you.

"No, no not at all. It's kinda the opposite actually!" he laughs at his own joke not thinking you'd take notice of it.

"I haven't done something? I - did i forget to do my dished? I'm so sorry if i did!" you say looking back to the sink frantically thinking you'd missed your glass of orange juice and bowl of cereal you'd had this morning.

"No no, and don't think of it that way. I was just joking around - erm, I just wanted to say we've been dating for a while now and I was hoping we could start to be more intimate?" he asks holding your hand and your eyes widen and your cheeks redden.

"I- erm" you start to stutter and he rubs his thumb over your hand.

"We don't have too... if you don't want too! But I just wanted to ask!" he rushes out not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"It's just that ... I've never ever done anything like that!" you say looking at him with those innocent doe eyes that made him go crazy.

"Like never ever?" he asks in shock, you were a gorgeous girl and even when he was out with you, guys would always be coming up to you, making conversation and flirting with you.

Now that he thought about it, you never actually could tell when you were being lightly flirted with. You were very oblivious too all moves guys made, unless they were literally asking for you number.

"Mmmm no, I mean ... you know you're like my first boyfriend right?" you ask him, cocking your head to the side.

"Wait, you've never been with anyone else other than me?" he asks, and fights to keep the smirk off his face. There was something so dirty, about the fact that you were so pure and untouched, and that it turned him on that he would be the first, and hopefully last to show you everything he could.

"No" you whisper and he looks at you, before cupping your face and pulling you in for a soft kiss.

"Will you let me show you, everything I want to?" he asks looking at you, brushing some of your hair behind you so he has full view of your collarbone.

"Yes..." you breathe out, feeling flutters in your stomach at both his words and actions.

"Now?" he asks with a little gulp, hoping the answer would be a yes.

"Yes, show me now Lan!" you say, climbing onto his lap getting excited about the actions to come.

"Okay, baby. Lets slow down" he laughs holding you in place. He shifts about so he's comfortable and starts to run his hands over your body. Little goosebumps rise to the surface coating your arms as his fingers roam across your collarbone, down over your clothed boobs and down until he had a firm grip on your hips.

"As much as I like your wearing my shirt baby, I'm going to take it off you now, is that okay?" he asks looking you in the eyes and you nod, looking down a little intimidated by the intense eye-contact.

"Words baby, you gotta tell me" he smiles at you and you smile.

"Yes, you can"

And he does, he fingers brush against you and a groan comes out of his mouth as he see's what he's been missing out on seeing. Your perky tits were currently clad in an orange coloured bra. He didn't know if that was a normal colour for you or if you'd brought it since dating the McLaren driver.

"You are so fucking beautiful" he says looking at you, teasing against the straps of your bra before slowly pulling down each of them, before reaching round the back and unclasping it so it fell off you.

In reflex your hands came up, to cover your exposed chest, it wasn't something you were used too.

"I want to see and touch baby, please let me!" he says softly.

You felt comfortable and confident enough with Lando that you felt like you could show this part of yourself to him, a part that no-one apart from you had seen.

The moment was getting more and more intimate as his hands started to fondle your boobs, pinching squeezing and kneading. Lando learning what you liked from the noises you were making as he continued.

The more intimate it got, the hotter and more impatient you got with the new sensation in you stomach and the slickness and heat building between your legs.

Naturally, your body is craving friction. Your mind is going haywire not really knowing what to do to get the relief its craving. So your body automatically started to grind down on him, and you could feel just how excited he was getting with the large bulge building in his sweatpants.

You could tell it was something he liked too from the little whines and groans that came out overtime pressure was applied.

"I- I want to make you feel good. But I don't know how" you offer and he nods.

"Do you want me to show you?" he asks and you nod. He takes your hand and starts to help you palm him through his joggers, breathy moans coming from him.

"That's it, and when your ready you can take them off" he breathes out softly, not wanting to rush you into anything.

You take him out of his jogger, having a grip on him that was tight and he couldn't help but moan at the sensation.

"That's it baby. Now just run your hand up and down in a fisting motion!" he says, but you make no move to start, his head that was thrown back raises to look at you in question.

"Can you show me?" you ask, wide eyes and he nods, taking your hand that was around him in his as he helps you start to move up and down, showing the pace and grip that he liked. His moans were constantly flowing out now as he let go to grip the edges of the sofa and lean back. You started to go a little faster, before slowly right down and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I heard... from friends that you really like when we use our mouths?" you ask and look at him.

"You dont have to if you don't want to" he groans.

"I- will you enjoy it?" you ask.

"I think i'd enjoy anything you did to me"

"Then i want to do it" you nod and he sits up a little more.

"Okay, get on your knees baby..." he directs and you get to the floor in between his legs.

"You want my help?" he asks and you nod, he takes your hair into a ponytail to keep it out your face.

"Okay, open baby. Remember no teeth baby, it hurts!" he smiles and you start by what you thinks right and go straight in. You gag a little and he pulls you head back from the grip.

"No need to rush hunny. Just start with the head, and then you'll feel a vein on the underside that always feels good, okay? But don't rush to fill your mouth up okay?" he chuckles a little bit as he watches you listen to him.

You start with small movements around his tip, moving your tongue over his slit where pre-cum is leaking out. It was a strange taste that the first few times had your eyes screwing but you slowly got used to it.

You run your tongue along the underside feeling the throbbing vein he was talking about and he went crazy, moaning above you and desperately trying not to thrust up.

You slowly take more and more in your mouth and what you cant fit you decide to use your hands to cover the rest and use the movements you were doing earlier.

"Holy fuck! Are you sure you havent done this before baby?" he asks in shock of how good it feels. Maybe it was just because he was so in love with you that it felt 10x better than he ever had, or maybe you were just a quick learner and good at observing what he liked.

A minute later and he was coming into your mouth, you were quick to swallow all of him and leave his dick with a string of saliva attaching you together.

"Fucking hell baby" he smiles pulling you up onto his lap resting you on top of him, your knees either side of him.

"Was that good?" you ask, shyly. He can only nod as he catches his breathing.

"Your turn!" he smirks, one had on your hip the other one inching up your inner thigh under the skirt you were in. His hands starts to rub your clit through your underwear, and he smiles as your head falls into the crook of his neck and he can feel your breathing pick up against him.

His fingers curl round the edge of your panties pulling them to one side rubbing his fingers through your wet folds.

"Is this all for me baby!" he asks using his free hand to run through your hair as you keep your head in the crook of his neck rocking against his movements. His fingers eventually find there way in, the stretch a little painful at first.

"It's okay, it'll start to feel good in a minute" he says rubbing your back comfortingly.

"Tell me if i should stop yeah?" he asks and you just nod before quickly shaking your head, realising that may have come across as you want him to stop when you really don't now that a coil is building in your stomach and his fingers are feeling incredible inside you.

"Lando!" you whine starting to kiss along his neck and jaw, needing to occupy yourself with something to focus on the growing feeling inside you.

"Fuck baby, the things you do to me!" he exclaims feeling himself get hard again from the whole intimate situation occurring.

In seconds you're letting that coil go, not being able to hold it in any longer and gushing over his fingers. He pulls them out, taking them into his mouth, licking them clean groaning at the taste of you, his gorgeous girlfriend.

"I gotta have a taste of you baby!" he practically whimpers out, before laying you on the sofa and spreading your legs open. You shyly try to shut them but he just tuts.

"Lemme baby please!" he says softly and he stop resisting against his hands. He dives in, nipping and licking at the parts he knows are most sensitive, before devouring you as if your a five course meal. It felt incredible, better than his hands and you legs were shaking the whole time.

Your mind was fuzzy and you could only let out little swear words and his name to let him know just how good he was making you feel.

And only minutes later and you were releasing into his awaiting mouth where he fully cleaned you up. He draw back, a small sheen on his nose and corners of his mouth from your release that had you blushing.

"Lets finish this in the bedroom yeah?" he asks and you nod eagerly as he picks you up tossing your over his shoulder, giving your arse a light tap on the way out that had you giggling and squealing.

He places you gently on the bed hovering over you. He starts to take the rest of the clothing that was left on you off and chucking it to the floor before he starts to take his own off. He reaches into the bedside draw, grabbing a condom and opening it with his teeth before rolling it on.

"You are so beautiful baby! Are you ready?" he smiles, now lining himself up with your entrance. You hesitate for a split second, before remembering its your incredibly kind and beautiful and caring boyfriend Lando above you right now who wouldn't dream of hurting you.

"Yes" you nod, and he slowly starts to push himself into your warm, wet caverns. He moans at the tight feeling of you, kissing across your neck and collarbone trying to help you un-tense a little.

"Baby, you gotta relax" he guides you, starting to play with your boobs to get you feeling good. He pushes in a little more when he feels that you arent tensing as much and you sigh.

"Woah, your so big!" you exclaim, thinking he'd bottomed out from the stretch as you try regain your breath.

"Baby... hate to break it to you but I'm only halfway inside you" he laughs with a chuckle, nearly loosing his balance on his forearms that he is using to hold himself steady above you.

"What?" you ask opening your eyes too look at your laughing boyfriend.

"Thank you for the compliment though baby, that makes me feel really good about myself" he says honesty before he pushes the full way in, finally bottoming out. You wiggle a little trying to get comfortable before giving him a nod where he starts to move in and out of you.

It starts to progressively feel better and better to the point where you can start meeting his thrusts to make it a little quicker. The sounds in the room are anything but innocent, both of your breathy moans and your high pitched whines when he reaches in between you to rub circles on your clit and the sound of slapping skin.

"Lando fuck! I love you" you cry as the pressure builds up and up.

"I fucking love you too" he breathes out, his thrusts coming a little sloppier.

And soon your both releasing at the same time as he pulls you in closer to him, almost laying all his weight on you.

"I'm like so glad we had that talk!" Lando laughs pulling himself up to look at you.

"Me too, I cant wait for you to show me more!" you grin pulling him into a kiss making him groan and grab the pillow to put over his face. He was exhausted but ... round 2 sounded like a shout.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[nariism]

ೃ⁀➷ MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE ★

a/n: fluff!! neuvillette being a touch starved loser (affectionate) + lots of terms of endearment. happy belated neuvillette day! may all neuvillette wanters be neuvillette havers ≧◡≦

Neuvillette can't stand coming home if not into your arms.

The deafening silence of a sleeping home drives him mad. It used to be welcomed after his terribly loud days. Now only serves to remind him of the millennium he spent alone, of the heartbreak he had to endure with no one to hold him, and of the growing emptiness within his heart long before he knew you.

It's unlike him to come home so late, but duty calls and as the Iudex of Fontaine he must go wherever summoned.

For days he has come home well into the latest hours of the night, sliding off his shoes in the darkness of the hall and allowing the silence to swallow him up whole. Five unbearably long days of missing your smile greeting him at the door, hands all over his face and squeezing his cheeks until he nudges them away in lieu of kissing you hello.

He expects tonight to be the same. It's so late that there was not a single soul wandering the streets of the city, no one awake to witness the very tired, very cranky Chief Justice.

You always find a way to defy his expectations.

The hall is quiet when he cracks open the front door. Crushing loneliness swells in his chest and sinks into the pit of his stomach when he realizes that you must have gone to bed long ago, as anyone sane would do. But then there's a click, followed by a small flame dancing in the dark.

You ignite an array of candles one by one, each additional glow illuminating your beautiful face in warm light. Neuvillette can't stop the hitching of his breath, nor the confusion knitted through his brows.

"What are you doing awake?"

You know he doesn't mean to scold you. Soft laughter fills his ears as you saunter over to him slowly. Realization crashes down on him as you approach, allowing him to see closer what has kept you up.

"Happy birthday, my love."

It's so late that midnight passed hours ago. He hadn't even realized amongst all the chaos of his work that the 17th had come and gone, making way for his birthday.

Only you would remember. It was a talent you had, memorizing every detail about him that sometimes even he lost track of.

("Neuvillette, dear, I picked up some dark roast on the way home today." He didn't even realize he had run out.

"Welcome home, I made ragout!" He wasn't aware he was craving it until you brought it up.

"Do you want this?" It's the last cookie in the bag, saved especially for him because you know it's from his favourite bakery in town.)

He leans in and blows out his candles, eyes never leaving yours as he blinks at you slowly. You look so beautiful even now, in the dimly moonlit hall. Darkness envelops your bodies again and yet he never tears his gaze away. Not even for a moment.

"Now put the cake down, please."

"Hm?" Your head tilts, clearly confused by his request.

"So I can hold you," he quickly explains, fingers itching at his sides because of how much he aches to hug you.

You gently set the cake down on the entrance table before you get scooped into a warm embrace, pressed snuggly to his chest as he memorizes the outline of your body against his once more.

"I've missed you, my dear," he says, face burrowed into the crook of your neck.

"It's only been a couple days," you laugh, and then remind him: "I see you every day at lunch."

"No, this is different." He pulls away slightly, forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes. There's something in there— vulnerability and love all mixed into a beautiful purple harmony. "I miss coming home into your arms after long days," he admits.

"Oh, love," you breathe, reaching up to cup his face the way he's so used to. "Things will settle down again soon."

His eyes close as he savours your presence, soaking up all the affection you're giving him in his moment of weakness. You've always spoiled him.

"I suppose so," he agrees, a smile finally settling on his lips. Your thumb runs along it, tracing the curve of his happiness. There's a beat of silence before you open your mouth again.

"What did you wish for?" You ask curiously, voice growing quieter as you lean in to kiss him. And the answer he gives comes naturally.

Neuvillette has always wished for things he read about in novels; imaginary promises of treasure and desire and fame, sealed with the wispy smoke of blown out birthday candles. He isn't even sure if he has ever actually wanted any of those. But as he looks at you, with the slow beating of his heart and the brushing of your lips against him, he can't think of a single thing he could want more than this.

"I did not wish for anything," he tells you honestly, giving your waist a squeeze. "I already have everything I could ever want."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[rosielovesf1]

spilling secrets on stream | LN4

what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none!

author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!

also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶

“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 

Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 

“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 

After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 

“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 

“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 

“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 

“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 

I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 

Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 

He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 

All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 

“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 

No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 

Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 

Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 

“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 

“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 

Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 

He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 

“Did they hear me?” 

“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 

“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.

Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 

He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 

“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 

“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 

“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 

“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 

She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 

“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 

“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 

“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 

“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 

“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”

@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭

[flowersandbigteeth]

Orc boyfriend with what he thinks is a tiny, smol mate who's so smol, so delicate, so sweet... They're actually pretty firmly built for a human, while a bit short, along with being stubborn and sassy and ready to bite heads off for their adorable XL size boyfriend.

I've got so many orc stories going right now, but you know I'm not mad about it ^_^ I love Orcs <3 There are so many different ways to write them. I have another couple of Orc asks I'm working on, as well 🥵

Orc (Cedar) x thick f reader

Word Count: 5K

Tw: sfw orc fluff, some brief descriptions of battle, brief mention of sa, size difference

More monster fluff here

“Put the stick down, sugar. We’re not going to hurt you.” 

You scoffed at the soldiers circling you, their eyes dark with lust. 

“We just want to have some fun,” another said, his eyes drifting over your shapely hips. “Don’t you owe us a debt of gratitude for rescuing you?”  

You squeezed the iron fire poker that you had gripped in your hand. 

“Rescuing me? You didn’t get your rocks off burning down the damn village?” 

“It was a strategic maneuver,” the leader of the armored men said with an oily smile. “We are here to liberate you.” 

“By assaulting me?” you snapped. 

There was not a doubt in your mind that the second you lowered your weapon, they were going to drag you into some dark corner and act out all of the sick thoughts they had echoed on their faces. 

Your King’s soldiers weren’t good guys. When they heard there was an Orc camp nearby, they couldn’t be bothered to attack it directly. Instead, they burned down your village. They said it was to prevent them from resupplying. 

It was true you did business with the Orcs, who were technically your enemy, but they never acted like enemies. While big and quite scary-looking, they paid in gold and were always polite to the women running the shops. You never felt the least bit unsafe alone with one, and occasionally, they’d help you out with things that needed done– fixing roofs and cartwheels. The men of the town had all been conscripted for the war, so it mostly the ladies keeping the village afloat. The soldiers had made a whole lot of children and the elderly homeless. 

“Come on, sweetie, this game is getting tiresome.” 

One of the soldiers dared to approach you, and you didn’t hesitate a second, swinging your poker and smacking him so hard in the head that his helmet crunched. He collapsed on the broken boards that had once been the floor of your little noodle shop. 

“Now that’s a crime!” the leader barked.

He waved to his accomplices. 

“Get in there and restrain her!” Their eyes fell on the collapsed soldier, and they looked between one another, trying to sort out who was next to get a whomping. 

You flexed your wrist, preparing to swing at whoever came at you next, when you heard the heavy steps of an Orc approaching. The soldiers were too inexperienced to know what that sound meant. You’d heard them approach every day at dinner time for several months. It wasn’t until he was shouldering his way through what was left of your door that they took notice. 

“The enemy approaches! Your swords!” 

The Orc you knew as Ash, wrinkled his brow and let out a lilting call to gather his brethren. The ground rumbled as more heavy feet ran towards you. 

Wood splintered, and what remained of the ceiling creaked as they tore the walls away, making more room for a fight. 

Faced with five nine-foot Orc barbarians armed with axes almost as big as their bodies, the soldiers tried to run for it. You screamed as they threatened to trample you, trying to force their way through the back wall, but they never reached you. 

The Orcs didn’t need to draw their weapons, grabbing every soldier and smacking them against the ground until they stopped moving—a gruesome way to die, but practical. 

When the danger was crumpled into a wet gnarl of bones and metal, their eyes turned to you. Ash said something to his friends in their own language before he stomped across the room and plucked you up like a kitten, cradling you in his arm. 

“Hey, What do you think you’re doing?!” 

“Quiet, little one. You’ll give us away.” 

You puckered your lips at him, annoyed, as if the stomping of five tons of muscle was quiet. When you tried to wave your poker at him, he plucked it out of your hand but didn’t drop it, tucking it instead in his belt. He said something else to his friends before turning to split away from them. 

You had no reason to panic. The Orcs had never harmed you, but being taken away from the group put frightening thoughts in your head, and you instinctively started screaming. 

The Orc sighed, sounding tired, when four more soldiers came skidding around a corner, swords in hand. You looked up at him apologetically, smacking your hand over your mouth to stay the scream that didn’t want to stop. 

He set you on the roof of what was left of a building and pat you on the head, a gesture that you read as “stay” before pulling out his axe. You weren’t going anywhere, even if you wanted to. The drop was fifteen feet down, and the stairs were just charcoal at the base of the building. 

“Attack!” the leader of the soldiers shouted, but their moves in their heavy metal armor were slow. Ash swung his arm in a sweeping stroke that sliced four of them in half where they stood. The other one, eyes wide with horror, turned tail and ran. 

Replacing his axe, he picked you up again and headed into the woods. This time, you had enough sense to keep quiet. 

You’d never been to the Orc camp before, but you heard it before you saw it. The brassy sound of a grinder and hammers on metal rang through the trees, blended with the shouts of the Orcs in their language.  There were lots of huge tents and fires spotted here and there. The camp was buzzing with activity. Orcs ran around shouting at one another, some gathering weapons, some sending groups in the direction you came. You recognized many of them as some of your customers. They often came in groups and hauled away vats of the noodle stew you sold. 

A few Orcs waved at Ash but didn’t pay you much mind as he carried you to the nicest-looking tent. It had a banner outside of it with a gold bear embroidered into the fabric. Ash set you on the ground at the door and handed you your poker before patting you on the back, indicating you should go in. 

“What’s in there?” you asked. 

He said something in Orcish that you didn’t understand and walked away. There were too many other giants around to attempt an escape, so you pulled aside the fur covering the door and peeked inside. 

“Hello?” 

Your question was returned with a deep voice, smooth as a glassy pond. 

“Enter, little one.” 

Taking a few steps inside, you were faced with what you could only describe as the most handsome Orc you’d ever seen. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair fell over his shoulder in a long, dark sheet with small braids here and there. His tusks were large, but they seemed only to highlight how well his lips were formed. His features were harsh and defined but not unattractive, with a straight nose and deep-set gold eyes. The only thing you could point out as a flaw was a dark scar from his forehead to the right corner of his jaw. 

You assumed the Orcs were blunt tools, sprinting into battle with no real plan, but this one was sitting at a high table examining maps with a book in his hand. 

“I’m…I’m not sure why I’m here,” you said, brandishing your poker, though you didn’t feel like you were in any particular danger. 

“I asked Ash to fetch you,” he said without looking up. “You’re the noodle shop woman.” 

“My name is (Y/N), not “noodle shop woman,” and I don’t have a shop anymore. The soldiers burned it.” 

He put his book down and turned his gold eyes to you. 

“That’s why you’re here.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

His eyes drifted over you before they settled on the poker you were still holding up. 

“You were feeding most of the camp. If there’s no shop to visit, you can make noodles here.” 

You blinked up at him. 

“Oh…Am I your prisoner?” 

He chuckled. 

“If you’d like to go back to your people, I won’t stop you, but judging how they burned down your village without hesitation, I think you’re safer with us.” 

You had to admit that made some sense, but you still weren’t buying it. 

“I can’t stay here with you!” 

He tipped his head, the corner of his lip twitching up slightly. 

“Why is that, little one?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“First of all, I’m NOT little, and second, an Orc camp is no place for a lady.” 

A shudder that had nothing to do with fear shot down your spine as his eyes moved over your body. He crossed the room, scooping you up, and setting you on his table. Your feet dangled far from the ground. 

“What- What are you doing?” you snapped, waving your weapon at him. 

“My neck was hurting from looking down at you. You’re very short.”

The sparkle in his eyes told you he was teasing you, which drew heat to your cheeks. 

“Maybe compared to you. You’re unnecessarily large. What are you doing with all of that muscle? Are you going to arm wrestle your books?” you pouted, eyes drifting to the massive bicep peeking out of the fur vest he wore. 

He laughed out loud, gracing you with a wide smile. 

“You’ll fit right in here.” 

You raised your nose at him, trying to look unconvinced. 

“Where will I even sleep? All of your tents are big and drafty.” 

“Since you’ve declared your intention to court me, I wouldn’t mind if you slept here.” 

“Declared my intention to— Where did you get that idea?” 

He flicked a fingertip at your poker. 

“In the old days, Orc females came to their males' tent and threatened them into submission with their favorite weapon.” 

Your cheeks burned like hot irons, and you almost dropped it. 

“Well…I’m not trying to court you. It’s for protection.” 

He snorted at you but nodded his head. 

“If you say so, little one, but it will be much warmer in my tent if it’s drafts you’re worried about.” 

“I don’t even know your name. Ash called you something in your language. I didn’t understand…” 

He examined one of the feet you had dangling over the edge of his table. Compared to his big hand, it was tiny. 

“Cautalin, it means something close to general in your language, but you can call me Cedar. That’s what my mother named me.” 

Your eyes traveled over his barrel chest and thick arms. 

“Seems about right,” you said, finally setting your poker down. 

He picked it up, looked it over, and tested the weight in his hand. 

“Not a bad choice,” he said. “Light but effective.” 

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, feeling cheeky. 

“Do you feel like submitting?” 

You watched a flicker of heat ignite in his eyes, and he slowly set it down. 

“Come on, let's get you to bed, killer.” 

He picked you up again, walking you over to a large pallet covered in furs. 

“This is your bed.” 

He gave you another smile. 

“We’re in the middle of a battle; I won't be sleeping tonight. It's all yours.” 

Though you weren't quite sure about sleeping in his bed, weariness overtook you at the sight of the comfortable, cozy furs, and you crawled in, wrapping yourself up to your chin in blankets. 

He put your poker next to you and blew out the candle, slipping out the front flap as you dozed. 

— 

You woke to yelling, but not the sound of battle. Crawling out of your furs, you picked up your poker and peeled out of the flap Cedar used as a door. Another Orc you didn't recognize was the one yelling, and Cedar had his arms crossed, looking bored. 

Your eyes drifted to about twenty women, elderly, and children, cowering in the chilly morning air, their faces streaked with soot from the fire.

“They’re our enemies!” the strange Orc barked. 

“Really, Asvoth? Are you really afraid of a handful of children and their mothers?” 

“This is a war camp, not a nursery.” 

“It's my camp, not yours. They stay.” 

“I outrank you. I can take your command.” 

Cedar snorted. 

“Yet the King hasn't trusted you with a unit of your own. You're nothing more than an errand boy with a fancy title. Any of these children could take your job.” 

Asvoth’s face turned a deep forest green from both embarrassment and indignation. He yanked the sword he wore on his back to his hand. Without thinking, you hopped in front of Cedar, waving your poker at the intruder. You had no idea why, a fact you only considered after you’d already put yourself in harm's way. Still, you'd made your move so the only thing to do was follow through. 

“You heard Cedar! We’re not leaving! Get on if you know what's good for you!” 

Asvoth sprung forward, dropping his sword toward your head. Your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for pain, but there was only the clang of metal. Opening one eye, you glanced up to see Cedar’s axe blocking the other Orc’s blow. 

There was a moment when you thought Asvoth might overtake him, but Cedar’s muscles weren't all for show. He shoved the other Orc back, and he toppled over, landing on his butt in the dirt. His sword landed in front of the children with a CLANG. 

“Woah!”  the little ones cheered, circling around it like it was a strange animal. 

A few of them tried to pick it up, but it was far too heavy, making their eyes pop even wider.

Cedar nodded at him, and a pair of Orcs from the camp dragged Asvoth up by the collar of his tunic, pushing him towards the forest.  

“I'm reporting this!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled towards the woods. 

Cedar waved a hand at one of his Orcs, beckoning him closer. 

“You and Orin follow him and make sure the King gets our side of the story, not his.”  

When the situation seemed settled, Cedar looked down at you and patted your head. 

“Thank you for your protection, little suitor,” he said with a smirk. 

Your cheeks blew up in flames, but you puffed your chest and looked at the children watching Ash pick up the abandoned sword. They hopped around him like little bunnies, begging him to teach them to use it. 

“I have no idea what you mean! I’m here to make noodles! Point me in the direction of my kitchen! These little mouths are probably hungry.” 

He chuckled, but guided you with a large hand on your back to a large tent filled with whatever food supplies they had rescued from the village. You wrinkled your nose at the primitive workspace, but there were enough flour and eggs to work with. You were surprised to find someone had stuck in a lower table, perfect for your height. After washing your hands in a water basin, you got to cooking. 

“What are you still doing here?” you asked Cedar, who had plopped down in a chair and was reading a book. 

He smiled. 

“Reading.” 

You blinked at him, putting your floury fists on your hips. “Are you surveilling me? I’m not going to poison you all! I have to eat this too, you know.” 

He tipped his head to the side, his gold eyes sparkling in the makeshift hearth. 

“The sound of cooking is soothing. I liked to study in the kitchen while my mother cooked when I was a boy.” 

You looked him up and down. 

“I can’t imagine you as a child.” 

You thought for a second, tapping your chin. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Orc child, actually.” 

He looked back down at his book, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. 

“You will,” he said as he flipped a page. 

Your brow wrinkled at that nebulous statement, but you knew everyone was hungry after the long night, so you got back to work. 

By midmorning, you had a stewpot big enough to feed an army filled with noodles, vegetables, and what little bit of venison the Orcs had been able to hunt between the battle. 

“All done,” you said, clapping your hands and creating a puff of flour in the air. 

Cedar got up and shouted something to his men, and two Orcs appeared to carry the big vat into the central circle so it could be served. You felt a sense of satisfaction when all the bowls were passed out and the children, tired humans, and bloodied Orcs were eating. The mothers spoke quietly between one another, while the children could hardly sit still, their big eyes following the Orcs every movement. 

“Here.” 

You looked up to find Cedar holding a bowl out to you. A grumbling stomach had you accepting it, and he patted the seat next to him for you to sit down. The two of you ate quietly for a moment before you asked him a question. 

“What are you going to do with all of us?” 

“Hmm?” he asked. 

“Well, I mean when the battle is over. We have nowhere to go. Our town is destroyed.” 

He looked at the children who, after scarfing down their bowls, were engaged in some game with Ash. 

“I was hoping you would all return to our capitol city with us. That’s where we live when we’re not fighting.”

Your eyebrows jumped. 

“To the Orc city? We’re humans. Don’t your people hate us?” 

He shrugged. 

“There are some weak minds who reveal their own fragility with their hate, but the rest of us like your kind. This whole war started because we wished to create allies amongst the humans.” 

“What? The soldiers said you attacked!” 

He chuckled. 

“Your king has a very effective propaganda engine. That’s probably the only thing about him that is effective. We sent a delegation party to him to discuss our interest in mingling with you humans. You all are prolific; despite your size, you’re a sturdy bunch. We thought marriages would bolster our numbers and strengthen your stock. Your King attacked, and we were forced to defend ourselves. The force that attacked us was decimated, and he declared war.” 

“You mean…you wish to mate with us?” 

His eyes slid down to you, and he gave you a sharp nod. 

“Is that so surprising?” 

You thought about it for a moment. 

“I don’t know…Maybe a little. You’re so strong. You’re not afraid we’ll diminish you?” 

His thick hand cupped your chin and rubbed some flour away with his thumb. Your heart raced at his touch. 

“Size is not what makes us strong. Our strength lies in our unbreakable bonds. Your King will be defeated, not because his forces are less than ours, but because he orders his men to betray his own people.” 

He nodded towards the children, who were playing chicken fight on Ash and another Orc’s shoulders. 

“They will remember it was men who burned down their village, stole their fathers from them, assaulted their mothers and Orcs who took them in, fed them, and helped them smile again. 

“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed. 

His smile widened. 

“I will remember you took up arms to protect me against an enemy twice your size. You belong among the us.” 

Suddenly the wool dress you wore was much too hot. 

“I should go wash these before the next meal,” you squeaked, grabbing his empty bowl and scurrying away.

Once safe in the kitchen tent, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to still your heart. Why did Cedar make you feel so fluttery? You’d never felt this way around anyone before. You usually kept to yourself and steered clear of romance. It had to be the battle, you decided. You were still hyped up from the night before. In a day or so, you were sure it would pass. 

Dunking empty bowls in ice-cold river water helped cool your thoughts as you tried to focus on what to make for dinner. The Orcs stocks were pretty hefty, but they and the children ate a lot. You’d noticed many of the parents tipping some of their bowls into their little one’s, making sure they were fed properly in case the next meal didn’t come. 

It saddened you it had to be this way. What horrible person decides to burn down their own citizens' village? Who was the King even protecting you from? Not the Orcs, that’s for sure. 

A loud rabble outside dragged your attention away from the dishes, and you picked up your poker before peeking your head outside. 

A few Orc scouts were speaking in rapid Orcish to Cedar. When they paused, his eyes immediately looked around for the children and frowned before he spoke to you all. 

“The human King has sent reinforcements. They will close on our camp by nightfall.” 

The mothers all gathered their children to their skirts, looking weary. 

“Women and children to the kitchen tent! We will keep you safe, but you must stay hidden!” 

You made way as a small stampede of humans rushed past you, many pushing their children to hide under the table. 

“What’s happening?” You asked Cedar as people and Orcs rushed around. 

He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, looking disturbed. 

“Someone ran back to your King with a story that we’d kidnapped you, not taken you in from starving in a burnt-down village. We will win this fight, but then we will have to make the journey back to the capitol. They will keep attacking if they think you’re within their grasp. Do you think you can explain this to your people? We don’t intend to take anyone by force, but I wouldn’t trust the King’s soldiers.”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”

You hurried back to the kitchen, where the humans were muttering to one another. 

“Should we flee to the forest?” Isla, the former town candlemaker, asked. “Can we depend on the Orcs to protect us?” 

Another woman scoffed. 

“We can’t trust anyone. These Orcs are kind now, but they’ll sell us out at the drop of a hat.” 

Linda, a quiet woman who worked as a weaver, whimpered. 

“But we’ll starve in the forest alone. Word is the King’s men have raized every town for fifty miles!” 

You inserted yourself into the conversation, holding up your hands. 

“No one needs to escape to the woods. The Orcs are going to take us back to their capitol to keep us safe.” 

Linda squeaked in horror. 

“The Orc capitol?! Where they can enslave us?!” 

“They have no plan to enslave you. Don’t you want your children to be safe? We will be safe behind their walls!” 

“Or…when the King takes the city we’ll all be hung as traitors!” 

“Shawna, don’t put that in her head. Linda, we’ll be fine. I trust Cedar.” 

You paused on that thought, realizing not only was it true, it didn’t make any sense. You’d only just met him. Your conversation was interrupted by the shouting of men outside. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” you hissed, “Here, take this.” 

You armed the humans with whatever haphazard weapons you could find, mostly butcher knives and skillets. 

Outside, you could hear the clang of weapons and the squelching sounds of metal piercing flesh. 

“What's happening?” Linda asked, trying to get around you so she could peek out of the tent flap. 

“Stay back!” You barked. “If they see us, we’re in trouble!” 

You could tell she was losing it, hopping from one foot to another, her hands getting slippery on her knife. 

“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to go with the Orcs. Even a human monster is better than them!” 

Before you could grab her, she skipped through the doorway, running wildly into the fray. The other humans gathered around you, their opinions spilling out like loose marbles. 

“What is she thinking?!” 

“Linda, come back!” 

“Let her go, she’s nuts.” 

You clenched your jaw, squeezing your iron poker. 

“She’s scared. I’ll go get her…you all stay put!” 

Before anyone could stop you, you darted after her, trying to catch sight of her red skirt through the mess of armour-clad humans and massive Orcs. The King had sent a much larger force than the one that had burned down your village. The battle around you was brutal. You almost slipped on a puddle of blood, your eyes frantically searching for Linda. 

You found her pointing her knife with shaking hands at a human soldier. 

“What are you doing? I’m a human, too!” 

“The King ordered you all dead!” he snarled, raising his sword at her. “No witnesses! Come on, do your duty to the kingdom, and die quietly!” 

Panicking, you launched yourself at him, whacking him with your poker as you barreled into him. The two of you went down, metal clashing as you fell and dropped your weapons. Both of you scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked earth. You could hear Linda screeching beside you as you tried to overpower the soldier. His armor, now slick with mud, made it impossible to get a hold of him, and he triumphantly dragged himself to his sword, clumsily grabbing it by the blade and flinging it in your direction. You saw the metal flash in the firelight before pain exploded between your eyes, and your vision went black. 

—

“Please tell me she’s not dead,” you heard Linda’s voice from far away. 

Isla scoffed. 

“You’d better hope she’s not, Linda. This is all your fault!” 

“I'm sorry!” she simpered, “I made a mistake! I thought the soldiers were here to free us!” 

“Free us from what? A good meal and a safe place to sleep?”

You dragged your eyelids open, vision blurry for a moment before it cleared. 

“What…what happened?” you murmured. 

“She’s awake!” Isla gasped. 

You felt her cool hands against your cheek. 

“Take it slow, here; have some water.” 

She pushed a tin cup into your hands, and you wet your palette with a few sips. Looking around, you were surrounded by the humans, all looking very concerned. 

“Is everyone okay?” you asked. 

Isla smirked, and the other women tittered a bit. 

“Thanks to you, I suppose. That chieftain or warlord or whatever saw you get knocked in the head and went berzerk. He killed most of the soldiers all by himself.” 

Another woman poked her head out of the tent. 

“She’s okay! You guys can untie him!” 

“Untie who? Is the battle over?” 

Isla nodded.

“Yeah, all the soldiers are dead. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up so we can move the camp before the King sends anymore. Can you believe he ordered them to kill us? I guess so he could claim the Orcs did it and get more support for the war.”

She smirked at you. 

“And as for who's tied up, your Orc friend thought you were dead. The others had to tie him up so he wouldn’t go on a rampage. He was ready to storm the King’s stronghold! You ought to see the ropes they had to use…thick as your waist!” 

You heard the roll of stomping feet, and Cedar burst through the tent flap. His hair was wild, and his tunic was red with blood. He fell to his knees in front of you, holding his hands as if he couldn’t decide if you were safe to touch. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully prodding the bandage you had wrapped around your head. “That monster didn’t do any permanent damage, did he?” 

“She’ll have a scar,” Isla said, “but I think she’s fine.” 

Cedar’s face lightened, pulling you towards him, his big arms wrapping around you. 

“Thank the goddess,” he sighed with a heavy breath. “I thought they’d taken you from me.” 

He cupped your cheeks between his palms when he finally let you go. 

“You are so stupidly brave, little one,” he gasped, eyes wet. “You have more honor than your people deserve.” 

Behind him, Isla waved the women out of the tent, leaving the two of you alone. Not used to so much intimate attention, your cheeks warmed, and you weren’t sure where to look. 

“I just didn’t want Linda to get hurt,” you muttered. 

He gave you an odd smile, scooping you out of the cot you’d woken up in. 

“Once I get you to our home in the capitol, I’m going to have to keep you locked up for your own safety,” he said, patting your head. 

You looked up at him from where you were tucked, leaning on his bicep. 

“Our home?” 

He grinned at you, counting on his fingers. 

“First step to Orc courting: Threaten your desired with your weapon. Done. Step two: Allure them with your cooking skills, cooking or hunting something delicious. Done. And the final step: Display your honor through a grand act of bravery. Done! You’ve effectively and thoroughly seduced me, little one! All that’s left is to take you home!” 

He tipped your chin up with one thick finger and dipped his head to press his lips against yours. Your whole body felt like it was made of butterflies, every nerve flickering with excitement. Despite being covered in blood and mud, his kiss tasted like honey and sage. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a chilly morning. Your eyelashes fluttered shut and you sank into his warmth, despite yourself, happy to be alive and in his arms.

“Oh!” you gasped as he straightened his neck.

Your mouth fell open, unsure what to say. Before you could think of anything, Cedar carried you out of the tent, shouting orders at his men to pack up the camp so you could leave for the capitol.

[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

[uvuyai]

Men who use their legs to keep you spread open while they finger you☺️(this is my [short] apology letter for my april fools joke😓) this was based off some chilumi nsfw i found on X. I'll link it later!

Tag ~ fingering, fem!reader(no pronouns),, overstimulation, squirting, mating press, no sex but implied at the end, eating outz, size difference, tit slapping + nipple play,

The way he just snaps you into position with your legs bent away to your shoulders beneath their legs. The way they pumps and ruthlessly thrusts their fingers into your clenching hole, sending you sky high into a bursting orgasm. The tears and drool running down your face says it all. Your trembling hands clenching the thigh of his pants.

You try your hardest to wriggle your way out of his tight leg lock but they're not letting you go till he's finished with you. You've come for the nth time of the day. your mewls, whines, and moans getting high on pitch every waking second. They like seeing you like this; all spread out, puffy pussy sucking their fingers in, eyes rolling up to heaven, and the sweet juices you squirted out onto their hand.

He leans down and licks a stripe of your cunt, you immediately jump from the sudden change of roughness. They tweak and suck at your clit. Their tongue licking long and forceful stripes of your pussy. Their nose pokes at your clit from time to time. Your tongue hanging out of your mouth and tilting your head to the side to hopefully avoid neck pain. You let out a sharp moan and gasp as you felt yourself wet their hand. Your toes curled at the erupting feeling. You are nearly embarrassed about how you've wet yourself. They raise themselves back up to look back at the mess they've made beneath them. That mess being you. Your eyes are so close to closing as you let out soft and quiet pleas for no more.

But as I've said before; he's not stopping now.

One more time at least baby is what they say and they slide their fingers back into you, immediately curling up into that spot he knows like the back of his palm. Their other hand slams down onto your tits, tweaking them in the process. You're so cute they think as they see you trying to escape his leg prison once again. They give you a hearty chuckle and a teasing smirk. Your eyes try to ultimately focus on them but he doesn't stop pumping his fingers into you. Poor thing, it was only 15 minutes in, but it must've felt like eternity for you. Which you hope was the last of, you clenched your teeth and let out a gut bursting orgasm.

He gets up and flips you onto your stomach and removes the rest of your clothes along with his. They aligned his thick, long cock to your sensitive hole. Oh boy, this was gonna be a long day or night for you.

The characters i think: Zhongli, blade, childe, Kaeya, Boothill, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, Diluc, Wriothesley, Jing Yuan, Pantalone, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Sunday, and you favs!

LOVE NOTE SIGNED © 𝑢𝑣𝑢𝑦𝑎𝑖 2024

DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY POST W/O PERMISSION. DO NOT COPY MY LAYOUT. YOU MAY TAKE INSPIRATION BUT MAKE SURE TO CREDIT ME.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

[ellemj]

Flustered: Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic: SMUT

Request by @aryarcharon: enemies to lovers, fuckboy!Bucky, praise kink.

Summary: Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.

Warnings: profanity, masturbation, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, praise kink, teasing, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I've had major writers block + lack of motivation lately. I started this WEEKS ago and didn't have a single good idea for it again until today, so here you all go. I meant for it to be a one-shot but it sort of turned into a two-part fic on its own. Special thanks to @aryarcharon for this wonderful combination request from the smut menu!

            It’s not very easy to get under your skin. You’re so level-headed and even-tempered, capable of dealing with the most heinous criminals and lowlifes without ever breaking a sweat. However, there is one person who not only knows how to get under your skin, but takes pride in doing exactly that. That one person is none other than Bucky Barnes.

            As a heavy rain pours down, soaking your clothes and sending a chill throughout your body, you stand with your arms crossed over your chest and a simmering rage bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. It’s his fault you’re stuck out here like this, freezing your ass off and probably nearing hypothermia as you wait for an extraction team. The mission went fine. You got the intel you needed, you got in and out without a hitch, and you even made it all the way back to the getaway car. The getaway car that Bucky left idling for too long, which drained the battery and now leaves the two of you standing in the rain.

            Your eyes flit over to your left, where Bucky’s carefully analyzing the machinery beneath the hood of the car, like he’s going to be able to magically fix a drained battery. Just the sight of him feeds the fire of anger within you.

            “Give it up, we don’t have any way to jump it off.” You grumble, running your hands through your wet hair. Bucky lifts his gaze to glare at you. His eyes briefly travel down to your wet clothes, but he focuses back on the machinery within a second. It was already cold out before it started raining, why the hell would you have dressed in such a thin shirt? And then to only pull on an equally thin jacket over the top of it, Bucky’s decided that you’re not the brightest.  

            “If you had listened to me and gone in when security was in the back half of the building instead of waiting until shift change, we wouldn’t have had to leave the car idling for that long.” Bucky points out, letting the hood down and closing it with a metallic thud.

            “If you had turned the ignition off, time wouldn’t have been a factor.” You retort. You know there isn’t any use in arguing, it’s not going to change your current shitty situation. However, you never seem to be able to stop yourself when it comes to Bucky.

            “I was trying to keep the car warm so you wouldn’t be freezing your ass off on the drive back to the compound.” Bucky huffs, moving around the side of the car to join you in standing on the passenger side. The laugh that leaves your lips is genuine, and if you weren’t laughing at Bucky’s words, it might’ve been infectious enough to make him laugh right along with you.

            “Don’t lie and pretend like you were keeping it warm for me, you were doing that for yourself. You’re never that nice to me.” It’s true, he’s never that nice to you. Any other woman? Sure, he’s a gentleman to anyone else. But to you, he’s an ass, constantly. It’s part of his fuckboy charm. He puts on the perfect show for women he wants to sleep with, and then gets them into bed and never calls them again, forever seemingly afraid of commitment. It’s how you figured out that you’re the one girl he’s never thought about sleeping with. He’s never been nice to you.

            Before Bucky has a chance to continue your pointless argument, his phone rings in the pocket of his leather jacket. He’s quick to pull it out, note that it’s Torres calling, and then press the device up to his ear as he narrows his eyes at you. You roll your eyes the moment you make eye contact with him.

            “I’ve got a car coming your way, ETA is about two minutes. But, it looks like the people you stole the info from may have caught on to the ruse, so you need to move.” Torres informs him quickly. He can hear him tapping away on a keyboard as he speaks.

            “Which direction is the car coming from?” Bucky asks, already scanning the street for signs of danger.

            “Head north of where you are right now, when you get to the construction site at the end of the road, take a left and find a place to tuck in until the car gets there.”

            It’s less than a minute later that you and Bucky are jogging through the rain in silence. You follow a couple of steps behind him, routinely glancing over your shoulder to check for the people that are supposedly on your tail. Though you haven’t seen or heard anyone yet, it doesn’t mean you aren’t being watched. After a short twenty seconds of you jogging behind Bucky, his protective nature gets the best of him and he slows down, switching places with you. He’s not letting you hang around the back and be the first one to get shot at when those guys catch up.

            “I can take care of myself, you know.” You mumble as Bucky lets you take the lead.

            “You have to, since you sure as hell don’t like to let anyone else do it.”  He spits back lowly. For someone who can’t stand being around you, he sure knows a good bit about you.

---

            Bucky stands in the shower, running his hands through his hair as he lets the hot water trickle over the curves of his muscles. He let you get under his skin today. He let you distract him from the mission at hand and he forgot to turn off the damn ignition, which resulted in the two of you getting stranded in the rain. Truthfully, you barely even did anything. It was the same shit that always distracts him when he’s in the field with you. The way you can be so serious and focused on your task, yet still throw casual insults and banter with him on the side. The way you’ve never acted like you were scared of him or like you even care who he once was. The way you roll your eyes. Every time he sees you roll your eyes at him, which is often, he can’t help but think about making you roll them for a very different reason. God, if he could just get you out of his life, he’d be fine. He’d be more the fine, honestly. He’d be fucking great.

            But, you’re a part of his life whether he likes it or not. You both live in the tower, you get sent on the same missions more often than not, and you’re as close with Sam as he is. So, over the last couple of months, Bucky came up with one foolproof way of gaining a little control back in this situation. He goes out of his way to make you want to insult him, to make you want to give him shit, so he can convince himself that you’d never give him a chance. Of course, it helps that he’s a bit of a modern-day fuckboy and you can’t stand that. Your take on his sex life is a bit off, but he doesn’t care to correct you on it, hoping it’ll make you hate him even more. You think that he sleeps around and because you think he fears commitment, you assume he leads women on and gets them into bed with the promise of something more. He does sleep around, but with no promise of commitment or anything resembling that. He lets women know up front that he isn’t looking for anything, that he’s happy to have one fun night and give them pleasure beyond belief, but that it’ll never go anywhere after that. Besides, who would pass up the chance to sleep with a super soldier? He’s practically fulfilling women’s fantasies left and right. He’s doing his civic duty by sleeping around. Isn’t he?

            Bucky had been planning to grab something out of the fridge for dinner after his shower, and then lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. Until he stepped out of his room, freshly showered, and the heavenly smell of whatever you chose to cook for everyone that night graced his senses. He couldn’t help himself from venturing in not only to see what you were making, but also to try to get under your skin as much as you got under his earlier today.

            “Don’t tell me you’re cooking pasta again.” Bucky’s voice rings out just as you’re leaving your sauce to simmer and thicken up on the stovetop. Your back is to him, but you know he’s approaching the kitchen with a sure plan to piss you off. As you wash a wooden spoon in the sink, your entire body tenses up when you feel him behind you.

            “You know I like to be alone in here when I’m cooking.” You remind him coldly, shutting off the water and drying the spoon on a hand towel. Bucky chuckles lowly before backing away from you and moving over to the stovetop, glancing down at the pasta sauce that you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes whipping up.

            “And you know that’s why I’m in here.” Bucky points out. God, he’s infuriating. He’s made it his main purpose in life to piss you off, you’re sure of it. When you finally turn to face him, you catch him eyeing the sauce with piqued interest.

            “Get away from the stove.” You say boldly, pointing your wooden spoon at him like it’s a weapon. Bucky’s eyes dart over to you with mild amusement as he assesses the situation. You need to turn the burner off, but Bucky’s seen you cook this exact recipe enough times to know that, so instead of moving like you told him to, he reaches over and turns the burner off for you. It’s his next move that really pisses you off. A smug smile tugs on the corners of his lips as his hand ghosts over the stovetop to the edge of the saucepan, and then glides across the rim of it, gathering a small sample of sauce. “Don’t you dare.” You threaten him. “It was your fault that I ended up soaked on that mission today, you’re not eating anything I’m cooking tonight.”

            “Soaked, hmm?” Bucky repeats the word, giving it a much filthier connotation as he raises a brow at you. You shake your head, stepping forward as he lifts his hand closer to his mouth, his gaze focused on the sauce on the tip of his flesh index finger.

            “You know what I mean.” You huff, reaching for Bucky’s arm to stop his movement.

            “It was my fault that you ended up soaked.” Bucky says the sentence slowly as he thinks about you being soaked in an entirely different context. You poke his chest with your wooden spoon before grabbing his flesh wrist and pulling his hand toward you, effectively stopping him from tasting the sauce.

            “Why do you have to make everything sound so filthy?” You question, looking around for your hand towel so you can wipe the sauce off of his finger. It’s too far for you to reach without dropping his hand, and you’re sure as hell not letting him go now.

            “I like seeing you flustered like this.” He teases. Secretly, he’s enthralled that you’re touching him right now, that you’re standing so fucking close to him. He came in here hoping to piss you off just enough to make you yell at him, to make you chase him out of the kitchen, to remind him that you don’t give a shit about him so he could go to bed tonight without thinking about you. Yet, here he is, enjoying every second in your presence.

            Flustered. It only takes two seconds for you to decide that you’ve had enough of being flustered at Bucky’s words and actions. You’re always the one that’s flustered and he’s always the one that’s smug and cocky over getting a rise out of you. The action your body chooses to carry out doesn’t seem to go through the proper channels in your brain first, so you carry it out without pausing long enough to realize that it would be a mistake.

            You pull Bucky’s hand closer to your face, look up into his eyes, and wrap your lips around his finger, sucking the sauce off as your tongue glides against his skin.

            Fuck. You don’t hear the very audible sound of Bucky swallowing. You don’t hear the way every single thought jumbles up into a ball of incoherent words in his mind before disappearing altogether. You most definitely don’t notice the way his cock is quickly hardening, even though he’s wearing gray sweats and his growing bulge is somewhat obvious.

            You did it, Bucky’s flustered. You’ve never actually seen him like this, with blush-tinged cheeks, blown pupils, and narrowed eyes. He’s looking down at you like he wants to rip his hand away from you and storm off, but he isn’t moving a muscle. Satisfied with your victory, you drop his hand and use the spoon to tap on his chest.

            “I like seeing you flustered like this, James.”

---

            With a hand wrapped around his cock and your name threatening to crawl past his lips, Bucky chases his release less than an hour after his interaction with you in the kitchen. The image of you sucking on his finger while you looked up at him through your lashes ruined him. It fucking ruined him. Bucky works his cock with no intention of prolonging his pleasure, he wants it over with. He wants to knock out this one, shameful orgasm and then figure out a way to get you back for doing this to him, for making him want you this damn bad. He wants to have you on your knees, swallowing his thick cock with tears on your face and lust in your eyes. He wants to have you naked in his bedsheets, crying out for mercy as he fucks you so thoroughly that you can’t tell where his body ends and yours begins. He wants to have you so hooked on his cock that even a day without it leaves you restless and on edge. He wants to hear you fucking beg for him.

            Only a moment later, Bucky is cumming all over his lower stomach and abs, grunting as quietly as he possibly can as he imagines his entire load filling you. More than anything, Bucky hates that he doesn’t actually hate you.

---

            It’s been two days since Bucky started avoiding you, two days since you sucked his finger into your mouth and gave him something to fantasize about. For the first time since that moment in the kitchen, you’ve found yourself in the same space as Bucky.

            As Bucky finishes up his workout with various pieces of gym equipment, you’re in the sparring ring with your latest trainer. You go through trainers about as fast as Bucky goes through women. Bucky’s sure this new trainer won’t last through the week. He watches as the guy pulls his punches, leaving you with only the lightest of swings to dodge and block. He’s going too easy on you, playing it safe so he won’t hurt you, because he doesn’t think you can handle yourself if he comes at you full strength. Bucky saw the same thing last week when the guy was here for the first time. Honestly, he expected you to request a new trainer after that first session, but for some reason, here the guy is again, treating you like a little princess in the ring.

            You’re light on your feet as you duck beneath another one of your trainer’s wide swings and then rise back up, landing a gentle punch of your own to his gut and sending him stumbling one step back. He’s quick to hold his hands up in defeat, shaking his head at your perseverance. You’ve been going at it for over an hour now, and although you’ve both been going easy on each other, it’s still cardio.

            “I’m calling it for today. I’ll be back again on Monday and you can rough me up then.” The tall, broad-shouldered man promises with a smile. You let out a deep breath and nod your head as you start to unwrap the protective fabric from around your knuckles. Taking a few steps over to the far side of the ring, you steal a sideways glance at Bucky, who’s completely engaged in his own workout with a weight set.

            “Rough you up? I don’t think we’ve gotten anywhere close to rough.” You joke, though it’s true. The man has been treating you like it’s your first week sparring, like you’re something to be handled with care and caution. You drop the sweaty fabric strips onto the mats before tugging your hair out of its ponytail and lowering yourself to sit on your knees on the mats.

            “If you wanted it rough, you could’ve just said so.” Your new trainer is bold. Though he fights you like you’ll shatter with his first real punch, he takes risks with his flirting. That’s the only reason you haven’t requested a new trainer yet.

            “Good to know.” You say coyly, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes and an innocent smile playing on your lips.

            It was that innocent smile paired with the way you looked up that simultaneously twisted Bucky’s stomach into an aching knot, yet still managed to send all of the blood in his body straight to his cock. If it was him that you’d been looking up at, his stomach would’ve been fine. But no, you were looking at your fucking trainer, the man who clearly thinks you’re fragile and incapable of making it through a real sparring match. After a few more words are exchanged between the two of you, the guy leaves the gym, promising he’ll see you again after the weekend, unless you call for him sooner. Bucky briefly imagines himself hurling one of the heavy weights across the room to knock the guy out of the door a little faster, but that would cause more trouble than it’s worth.

            He was going to ignore you. Honestly, he was. He wasn’t going to let himself interact with you, for his own sanity. But his deeper desires are repeating like a mantra in the back of his mind. He wants to hear you fucking beg for him. He has to have that satisfaction. He’s thought about it enough over the last two days that he’s imagined it to the point of committing the fantasy to memory. He has to have it.

            “I was wondering why you haven’t put in a request for a new trainer yet, since that one seems to think you’re too weak for a real sparring match. I get it now though.” Bucky says lowly, setting his weights down and lifting the hem of his t-shirt, using it to wipe sweat off of his brow. You narrow your eyes at him as you remain seated on your knees, stretching your arms up above your head. You know him well enough to know that he’s not done talking. “You want to sleep with him.”

            “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” You laugh. You reach for your water bottle that sits a few inches closer to the corner of the ring, grabbing it and pulling it to your chest.

            “Good to know.” Bucky repeats your words. He has a habit of remembering exactly what you’ve said and using it against you in various ways. It’s one of the things you hate most about him.

            “What does it matter if I do want to sleep with him? You sleep with any girl that comes within ten feet of you, you can’t really judge me, can you?” You retort. Bucky watches with an amused smile on his face as you set your water bottle back down and grasp the hem of your own shirt. He thinks you’re going to lift it just as he lifted his own earlier, to wipe sweat off of your brow. In retrospect, he should’ve left the gym when you lifted your shirt over your head, removing it and dropping it on the mats beside you.

            “You think he’d be good in bed? He won’t even throw a real punch at you in the ring. He’d probably fuck you so softly you wouldn’t even feel it.” Bucky scoffs, letting his eyes roam down your body as you’re taking another sip of water. You sit there in black leggings and a matching black sports bra, on your knees, making him question every decision he’s ever made with your appearance alone.

            “Maybe he thinks throwing real punches at a girl would dampen the mood.” You lie. You know Bucky’s right. The guy would be a bore in bed, but you can keep up the façade for a bit since it seems to bother Bucky so much.

            “Because he doesn’t know you very well.”

            “And you think you do?”

            “I think I know more about you than he does.” Bucky slowly approaches the sparring ring, keeping his eyes trained on yours the whole time. You don’t move from your spot on the mats.

            “List one thing.” You dare him.

            “A real sparring match with a man would do the opposite of dampening your mood.”  Bucky pulls himself up on the side of the ring, sliding through the ropes with ease and coming to stand a foot in front of you. He studies the way you look on your knees in front of him. He memorizes it.

            “You think sparring would be like foreplay for me?” You ask, already knowing that that’s exactly what he’s insinuating. You don’t know why you let him talk to you like this, why you let him cross every single professional boundary again and again. But here you are, on your knees in front of him as he stares down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

            “Do you want to prove me wrong?” Bucky holds his hand out to you, awaiting your decision.

--

            Your back slams against the mats for the third time, knocking the wind out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for air. It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath before you bend your knees and run your hands over your face. When you move your hands, you see Bucky standing above you and a little to your right, looking as smug as ever. He’s practically getting off on throwing you around like this, or at least that’s what you think he’s getting off on. He’s really getting off on hearing all of the heavy breaths, gasps, and soft whimpers that have been leaving your lips over the course of the last fifteen minutes.

            ���Maybe I should’ve given you a safe word.” Bucky taunts, holding out a hand to help you up. You swat it away and take a deep breath before moving into a sitting position and then rising to your feet. You’re quick to assume a defensive position once again, though you’re learning that being on defense against Bucky is the wrong move.

            “I don’t think this is intense enough to require a safe word, unless you think you’ll need one.” You huff. The two of you begin moving in a slow circle around the ring, sizing each other up once again.

            “You sure about that? How much more can you take?” Bucky challenges you. You exhale slowly as you fight to calm your racing heart and come up with a plan of attack.

            “I can take whatever you have to give me.” You must’ve spent too much time around Bucky lately, because the innuendo that just left your lips is on par with the kinds of things he normally says. He falters at the implication of your words, letting his hands fall away from his defensive position for just a moment. You take your shot, rushing forward and shoving his chest with both hands as you lock your ankle around the back of one of his knees and knock him off balance. He goes tumbling backward, but before you can break away from him to maintain your own balance, he grabs your wrists and takes you down with him. You land on top of him on the mats with a soft thud. You begin scrambling to take control of the situation, attempting to free your wrists from his hold to pin his arms down on the mats. A low laugh erupts from Bucky’s chest as he witnesses your struggle. He actually finds it adorable that you think you have even the slightest chance at pinning down his vibranium arm. He lets you try for a moment, watching as you expend a little more of your energy, before he takes charge. Bucky easily breaks your grasp on his forearms and then grabs your right hand, tugging you down to his chest. He rolls you both over in one swift move, coming to rest half of his bodyweight on top of you.

            “Do you say shit like that to your trainer? Or just me?” He has to ask. You see the tiniest semblance of jealously peeking through his question and it brings a smug smile to your lips instead of his, for once.

            “Do you need me to tell you that you’re special?” You tease, trying to free your arms from where he has them pinned down on either side of your head. He watches with poorly veiled amusement as you struggle beneath him. In an effort to gather more strength, you pull your knees up and place your feet flat on the floor, which lets Bucky’s lower body slide between your legs. Your sudden move catches him off guard and he just barely pulls his hips back before his erection has the chance to brush against the crotch of your leggings. You let out a soft sigh as you try once more to break out of his grasp and Bucky can feel his cock growing impossibly harder at your sensual sound. The next sentence that leaves his mouth is one that could take things in one of two very different directions.

            “You look so fucking pretty when you’re struggling for me.” He says lowly. You freeze in an instant. When you meet his gaze, focusing in on his blue eyes, warmth suddenly begins to flood your body. You feel your breath hitch in your throat and a sheen of sweat form across your chest. Bucky notices every little physiological reaction he gets out of you. You liked what he said. You fucking liked it. A new boldness comes over him and he licks his bottom lip before biting into it and letting his eyes trail down to your chest. His gaze doesn’t linger there, but you can see the briefest appreciation in it as you lay there and let him look you over. Bucky wants to have you just like this, in his bed. But, if he can only have you like this on the gym mats, he isn’t going to waste the moment. Leaning down until his nose is almost brushing against yours, Bucky still keeps the majority of his weight off of you. He tilts his head to the side and lets his nose graze the shell of your ear. When you feel his lips against your earlobe, your eyes flutter shut and your breath hitches in your throat once again. “So. Fucking. Pretty.” Bucky repeats in a hushed whisper, emphasizing each word. You’re fighting to keep your legs in the exact position they’re in, they’re beginning to shake as you strain to keep them firm. Every single muscle fiber you have wants to take part in spreading your legs. Bucky can feel it. He can feel how badly you want to spread your legs for him, he can fucking feel it. He thinks he might want it even more than you do.

            “What was the safe word?” You ask in a breathless whisper. You can feel the movement of Bucky’s lips curling into a devilish smile against the shell of your ear.

            “I thought you said you could take whatever I have to give you.” He tsks. His warm breath fanning against your cheek is driving you absolutely insane, and it’s adding to all of the other sensations that are sending your body into overdrive. “You can take it, can’t you?” You’re trembling beneath him and he fucking loves it. You barely even think about his question before you find yourself nodding your head. In the back of your mind, you’re hating the way your body is fully complying with him, but for some reason it feels so good to do exactly what he wants.

            “I can take it.” You whisper softly. Bucky pulls back to look into your eyes as his teeth press into his bottom lip.

            “Good girl.” You reaction is instant and visceral. A whimper falls from your lips and your eyes close tightly as your legs spread all on their own, giving Bucky the freedom to press his clothed cock against you if he so wishes. But, he doesn’t. He’s completely mesmerized, entranced by your positive response to praise.

            That was the moment Bucky realized that you have a praise kink. When you finally gathered yourself and opened your eyes to look up at him, the way he stared back down at you like he wanted to ravage you right there on the mats of the sparring ring sent a jolt of electricity through you. Yeah, you wanted him to do every filthy thing that was running through his mind in that moment. But it was Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes, the man who sleeps with anyone and everyone, the man who is never nice to you. You couldn’t let him have what he wanted, so you came to your senses and finished the fight. You shoved him off of you when he least expected it, sending him to land flat on his back beside you, and then you scrambled to your feet, quick to put a bit of distance between the two of you.

            “Had enough already?” Bucky asked in a condescending tone, as he bent his knees and ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair, not making any moves to get off of the mats.

            “I said I could take it, I didn’t say I would. Find someone else to fuck around with.” You spit the words back at him with sheer malice.

            The following week was torture. Bucky, being the little shit that he is, decided to use your praise kink against you. Knowing your secret made getting under your skin that much easier for him. It started out small, with whispered praises in passing. He was leaving the gym one day when you were halfway through a heavy core workout, and as he passed by you, he couldn’t help himself.

            “Look at you, sweating and panting but still looking so fucking pretty.” He said lowly as he passed you, shooting you a smirk as the words left his lips. It set a fire deep in your stomach, which you swore was due to rage, but really, it wasn’t. The heat from that fire went straight to your cunt. You finished your workout in record time before hurrying upstairs to your room and telling yourself how much you hate him while you gave yourself the pleasure you so desperately needed.

            As Bucky teased you more and more, he began to become familiar with even the most subtle ways that your body would react to him. When he said just the right things, he could see your breath hitch in your throat, your posture straighten in the slightest, and your pupils dilate as you glared at him. Your eyes showed nothing but hatred but your body sang a different tune entirely, and he was feeding off of it.

            It’s now a few days later, and Bucky has grown even more confident in reading your body language. You’re in the kitchen late at night, washing a mug you used earlier in the evening. As you stand at the sink with your back to the rest of the living space and hallway to the bedrooms, Bucky slips out of his room quietly. Honestly, he didn’t know you’d still be up and out of your own room. He was planning to grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge and get back to his sleepless night, but there you are, in those little pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt that almost makes the shorts pointless. When he joins you in the kitchen, you’re instantly aware of the heightened tension in the air around you both. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Bucky pulls the fridge open and retrieves a cold bottle of water. You listen as he unscrews the lid and takes a long sip, before screwing the lid back on and leaning against the island behind you. You continue washing the mug, spending way too much time rinsing the soapy bubbles off of the ceramic dish.

            “You’re not going to look at me?” Bucky asks. His voice is tense, filled with anticipation. You refuse to turn around an face him. You finish rinsing the mug and shut the faucet off, shaking the mug over the sink to get off the excess water. As you reach to your left for the hand towel that sits on the countertop, Bucky suddenly rushes forward, reaching his arms around either side of you and letting his hands rest on the countertop. You try to act unbothered as you dry the mug and keep your breathing as even as possible. He isn’t even touching you. His chest is only an inch or two away from your back but the proximity makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Come on, look at me.” Bucky coos. He leans down and lets his nose brush against your ear so lightly that it tickles and you pull your head to the side, away from him. As your heart rate increases and the warmth between your legs begins to grow, you start to think. He has the advantage. He’s had the advantage for a week now and you’re sick of it. You want an advantage of your own. As Bucky waits for a response from you, your mind races back to the night you sucked on his finger in this very kitchen. You got to him that night and he stayed away from you for days after that. You want that advantage over him again, you need it. So, you let that need guide your actions. As you inhale a deep breath, you turn your head and let your cheek brush against Bucky’s, catching him by surprise. He pulls away an inch and turns to look into your eyes. His surprise quickly fades into a look of pride as he sees you doing exactly what he wanted, looking right at him. “Good girl.”

            “Bucky…” You feign a whimper, setting the mug and towel down on the countertop before mirroring his position. You place each of your hands right beside his on the edge of the countertop and lightly press your ass back against him. You’re not even a little bit shocked when his erection makes contact with your ass, you knew he’d been getting his own twisted enjoyment out of this little game. As you grind gently against him, he draws in a sharp breath and you face forward once again, glancing down at your hands on the countertop. “Look at how much bigger your hands are.” You say incredulously, noting the size difference as he peers over your shoulder. “I’m so glad we never tried to fuck, I don’t think I would’ve been able to take you.” You whisper.

            Bucky stiffens behind you and you’re sure that you actually feel his cock throb against your ass before he pulls his hips away. In a flash, his hands are gone from the countertop and he’s retreating, leaving you by the kitchen sink.

That was the moment you realized Bucky has a size kink, the moment you leveled the playing field.

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @lulawantmula @i-l-y-3000

[jayybugg]

study session

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're studying with Theo in the library...or are you?

Warning: Established Relationship, Dirty Talk, No House Specified, Kind of Public Sex, Smut (18+), No Use of Y/N, Google Translate Italian, No Plot literally just sex.

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Wrote this based on a dream I had.....which was based on an RP scenario that I did. Obviously, Theo takes up a lot of space in my mind. Early birthday gift for my Georgie, @pizzaapeteer, please wish her an early birthday and thank you because she is the reason I got this done. @cafekitsune for the banners as always!

You raced to the library, giving small hello’s and excuse me's to the people you passed. You had promised Theo that you would help him with his Charms homework after your club meeting, but you had gotten carried away with some discussions causing the meeting to run over. You hoped that Theo wasn't there yet or would just be arriving because you knew the small quips about your tardiness wouldn't stop if he was already there.

You made it into the library, climbing the stairs to the secluded corner of the floor. A small table with two chairs that you and Theo often claimed whenever you both decided to do some studying. You groaned softly, seeing Theo already seated with a shit-eating grin on his face when you rounded the corner.

"So late, bella. Almost thought you stood me up." Theo said as you sat down next to him. You rolled your eyes, pulling out your Charms notes and your textbook. "Oh, shut up. I've never stood you up before."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, why are you late?" Theo leaned in; his mouth curved into a smirk. You flicked his forehead causing him to lean back, rubbing it softly. "I got caught up in the meeting. I'm sorry, Teddy."

"It's fine, principessa." Theo said, opening his notes, "Just like teasing you."

You and Theo quickly fell into a nice rhythm of studying and light conversation. You gave him the notes to copy as you worked on the actual assignment. You always felt at ease when you studied with Theo, it was one of the only times that he seemed to relax. Usually that was reserved for when you both were in the privacy of your dorms and even then, Theo would rather be participating in other activities.

More time passed before you started wiggling in your chair, your butt starting to fall asleep. "This chair is uncomfortable." You whined, standing up to try to regain some feeling. Theo chuckled, leaning back in his seat, and patting his thigh. "Well, I'm quite comfortable if I do say so myself."

You rolled your eyes as you slid over to him, nestling yourself in his lap. "You've been waiting for this moment, haven't you?"

"I'm always looking for a way to get you in my lap, love. It's where you belong." Theo said, winking at you. You smiled, shaking your head, and returning to your reading for your homework.

Theo's hand reached your thigh, running up and down your leg. Once he finished copying the notes, he trailed his hand under your skirt. You glanced up from your reading to meet his eyes that were already trained on your face.

"Shouldn't you be starting on the assignment now?" You swatted his hand away from your thigh, raising an eyebrow at him. Theo smirked, putting his hand back, "Yeah, but I don't feel like reading that text right now."

His hand once again traveled up your skirt to the hem of your underwear. "Why don't you read it to me, principessa?"

"Read it to you?" You raised an eyebrow at him, "What are you trying to do?"

"Nothing, I just want to hear your sweet voice." Theo smiled, "I'll even reward you."

Your eyes scanned Theo's face, landing on his eyes. The usual expressionless eyes held a certain swirl of mischief in them. "You're up to something."

"Maybe, maybe not. Why don't you read and find out?" Theo shrugged, his smirk never going away. You rolled your eyes, conceding to his request.

"Charms are comprised of a wide range of spells. They focus on giving a target new and unexpected properties or making the target perform certain actions, along with other effects." You recited from the book. Theo's fingers softly moved the fabric of your underwear, pressing down on your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You yelped softly, looking up at Theo. He was leaning into his hand propped on the table, his smirk remaining as he held eye contact with you. "Theo," You hissed, "We're in the library."

"I know, bella. Why are you bringing up the obvious? Keep reading, I'm intrigued." Theo contorted his face into fake confusion, all while massaging your clit with his thumb. You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a shaking breath as you felt a familiar feeling boil inside you.

"Charms were distinguished from Transfiguration spells in the regards that a charm will add to or change the properties of an object while Transfiguration spells change the object completely." You continued reading as Theo removed his thumb from your clit, quickly replacing it with his index finger. He trailed up and down your pussy, smiling as you stuttered upon your next sentences.

"Offensive and protective spells f-fall under Charms such as the Stunning, Disarming, mmm, spell, and the Shield spell. The Tickling spell- oh!" Theo’s finger slipped its way into your pussy, pumping in and out as you read. You shut your eyes, attempting to save yourself from the pleasure.

Theo leaned close to your ears, a smirk evident on his face. “What’s wrong, bella?”

“You…. Theo….”

“Blaming me for your distractions?” Theo clicked his tongue, “How rude.”

You slapped his arm, slumping over slightly as Theo picked up the pace of his fingers. Theo chuckled darkly; his eyes trained on your face as it contorted into one of pleasure. “Getting fingered in the library, where anyone could round that corner and see you. Such a fucking slut.”

You felt yourself clench around his fingers due to his words. The adrenaline from the thought of being caught rushed through your body. “Fuck. Please.” You let out a breathy plea, your eyes looking over to the corner that could expose this whole ordeal.

“Please what, amore? Use your words.” Theo whispered into your ear. Your breathing became shallow as you felt a familiar knotting in your stomach. Theo did relent in his pace, smirking as he saw you close your eyes. “About to cum? Go ahead, be a good girl, and come all over my fingers, sunshine.”

A low moan fell from your lips as your climax came in a harsh wave. You fell limp against Theo, who was chuckling lowly. You rolled your eyes, getting ready to scold him. “I can’t believe you- Theo? What are you-?”

You felt your body get picked up and leaned over the wooden table. Theo stood up, taking his place behind you. “What are you talking about, darling?” Theo said, pushing your skirt up to your waist and bending down to be face to face with your cunt.

“We’re in the library! We can’t-” Your words were once again cut off by Theo as his tongue lapped at your clit.

“But you’re dripping, principessa. I can’t just leave my girl soaked like this, now, can I?” Theo smirked against your cunt, lapping at it again. You bit your lip, pressing your face against the hard wooden table. Theo stood up, undoing his belt and zipper as he left a harsh slap on your ass.

“Do you want my cock, baby? Tell me.” Theo stroked himself, pushing your legs apart with his knee. You let out a deep breath, laying your body flat against the table and turning your head to glance back at him. “Yes…... I want it.” You said softly. Theo smirked at you, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing in.

“Fuck, amore, so wet and ready for me,” Theo muttered. You whimpered, your eyes falling close at the feeling of being filled up by your boyfriend. He never fails to stretch you out beyond belief. Theo pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in before snapping his hips forward, setting a harsh pace.

“Such a fucking slut. Getting railed in the library where someone could see you.” Theo snarled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You clenched around him again, moans ripping from your throat. “Oh, you like that, huh? You like the idea of someone possibly seeing how much of a whore you are for me?” Theo smirked, reaching around to rub on your clit.

“Y-yes, yes, I like it.” You mewled, your nails digging into the table. Your eyes focused on the open corner, your heart speeding up every time a shadow floated past it. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to catch you in this position, but you couldn’t find it in you to stop Theo or even conceal the noises that he was causing you to make.

Between watching how he disappeared into your greedy cunt and how your ass bounced back every time his hips contacted yours, Theo groaned softly. “S’good…. fuck.” You whimpered.

Theo lifted your leg to be prompted up on the table, knocking the books off the table in the process. With a firm grip on around your thigh, Theo pound into your aching cunt. You gripped the edge of the table, your climax coming fast. “M’boutta….m’boutta cum…” You said, your voice muffled from burying your head to the table.

“Hm? My principessa is about to cum?” Theo spoke, “Cum around my dick, I want to feel you soak me.”

It didn’t take long for you to cum once again, your juice covering Theo’s dick and thighs. He continued to pound into you until his thrusts got sloppy. “Going to cover this pretty ass all in my seed.” He muttered, more to himself than to you. He gave you one last deep thrust before pulling out and spilling his cum all over your ass.

You took deep breaths, your body still bent over the table, as Theo massaged your waist, a chuckle erupting from his throat.

“I didn’t know you were so kinky, bella. Good thing I casted that invisibility charm before you got here.”

Your eyes flew open in disbelief as you turned your head to look at him. That same shit-eating grin on his face from earlier.

Your boyfriend was going to be the death of you.

[myfictionaldreams]

I you are interested I wanted to offer a possible request.

It would be a smutty mafia!stucky one (you can pick which one of them or both if you want)

So I was thinking about the reader topping one of them, but not in a dominant way. Like she was good or something and wanted to reward her by letting her pick anything she wanted and she wanted to ride them while they were restrained.

So (whoever was picked) would be bound to the bed with a blindfold and the reader gets to use them for her pleasure with free rain and cause of the blindfold they feel and hear everything more intensely so they can hear how wet she is as she uses them for her reward.

So she's not dominating them just getting a free use card and can move however she wants unprompted, cum how many times she wants, overstimulate (whoever is used) until she is happy and can use toys on herself too but all they can do is lay on the bed restrained and wait for her to be satisfied before being let go.

This came to me so randomly so I thought it might be an option for you maybe if you liked it. Have a nice day!

Being on Top // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

A/N: I've thought about this request so much. Thank you so much for sending it!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, anxiety, mention of gunshot wound, free use, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, rough sex, oral (f receiving), cum eating, cockwarming, overstimulation, restraints, blindfolds, vibrator, begging, praise kink, riding, dom/sub, rough cock play, masturbation

Words: 5.2k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Bucky watched intently. Fighting the urge to blink and wet the dryness itching at his eyes, he continued monitoring the situation before him. You were vacant. Eyes glassed over, and your body curled in on itself like you were attempting to make yourself as small as possible. It wasn’t this that concerned him; it was that you couldn’t look Steve in the eye despite trying to glimpse him out of the corner of your eye every couple of seconds.

Steve was watching with just as much concern as the bodyguards throughout the room, Sam and Natasha. Unbeknown to you, however, your gaze flicked towards Steve again but then swiftly landed on the spot on the carpet that had so thoroughly captured your attention.

Bucky had been trying to work the cogs in his brain for over an hour now, trying to figure out what was happening in your mind. The visible signs of distress he’d witnessed before when you were feeling fragile, whether it be due to being needy and submissive or because you were beginning to feel unwell with sickness. The first was most likely as you were displaying any visible signs of being ill; your heart rate was fine, and the same with your breathing; he knew he’d been counting and listening carefully. For once, he thanked his unique abilities.

The most likely answer was that you were experiencing some sort of mental health decline, but when you were needy or in the form of subspace, you would crawl into either his or Steve’s lap, not look frightened even to look the latter in the eye.

Risking a look away, Bucky caught Steve’s eye. The same level of concern was etched deep into his face; brows furrowed so deeply a line had formed between them. His teeth were clenched so hard that he looked like his jawbone would snap as he held his tongue, trying and failing to think of the right way to approach his girlfriend. The one person who shouldn’t be scared of him now looked as frightened of him as the enemies who cowered at his feet.

Bucky was running out of options as you began to chew on the corner of your recently done red-manicured nails, one of the many treats gifted to you by him and Steve for Valentine’s Day. It was never a good sign when you fell into old habits, and Bucky was on the verge of ripping out his hair and trying to decide what was best. Ask what is going on or approach you like a scared animal.

As his mouth opened, however, a flash of red distorted his view of you as Natasha stood directly in front of where you were curled up on the couch placed in Steve’s office for your comfort.

Natasha looked down at you, giving you a casual grin as she held out her hand with the matching manicure on her nails gleaming back at you, the red almost the same shade as her hair. Your eyes darted between her wiggling fingers and the welcoming smile as she nodded toward the door.

Taking her hand without a single word, you unfolded from your curled-up position and stood, mindlessly following her out of the door. Natasha pulled you into the elevator at the end of the corridor, riding down a couple of floors before arriving at the food hall with a private kitchen. One of the main perks of owning the entire building for the gang was that the sky was the limit concerning the facilities that could be added.

“Sit”, Natasha instructed, pointing to the table closest to the kitchen side as she began to boil some water, pulling out two mugs from the cabinets. “When I was a child, I used to suffer from nightmares, well, I still have nightmares. I’m just old enough now that I can drink something a bit stronger. But back then, when my hair used to be blue, I’d make myself a hot cocoa”. As she finished explaining, she placed a steaming hot drink before you, topping off the sweet beverage with a squirt of cream and marshmallows.

Sitting down opposite you, she took a moment to let you settle in, feeling thankful that you cupped the drink and allowed your hands to warm as you didn’t shut her out.

“Do you ever think about how fragile we all are?” you asked after staring into the mug in your hands.

Natasha frowned, opening her mouth to make a sarcastic comment of ‘not really’ but refrained as she saw the seriousness in your expression. “What’s brought this on?” You didn’t answer at first, but she noted how you uncomfortable shifted in your seat, shoulders hunching forward to mirror how you sat moments ago.

It took her a couple of minutes, but then it all dawned on Natasha as she sat forward in her seat, leaning on her elbows on the table. “Does this have to do with what happened with the boss three days ago?”

She knew she'd guessed right From how your eyes flinched and teeth began biting your lower lip. Steve had been shot whilst out for dinner with you and Bucky. It had been a well-calculated attack, and no one blamed themselves more than Natasha did for not spotting the attacker before it was too late. She was his bodyguard and had yet to fail at her job, and even though it was a superficial wound and, thanks to Steve’s accelerated healing, was already just a pink scar on his abdomen, Natasha still cursed herself.

Steve didn’t blame anyone other than the asshole who shot him and had spent many hours with him the previous night, getting his revenge and delving into all of his secrets. He’d been more concerned and out for revenge due to the distress it had caused you to see Steve shot. Hysterical was putting it lightly.

You’d screamed until your voice croaked, cried until your eyes were swollen, and become completely overwhelmed by the situation, needing to stay by Steve’s side entirely without sleeping until yesterday evening when you’d all but passed out. With Bucky staying by your side, Steve was able to sneak out and finally get his revenge against the shooter, and when he returned, you were swift to motherhen him even though he insisted that he was practically healed and back to normal.

“Talk to me, Sweet. I can’t help unless you tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours”, Natasha encouraged, leaning across the table and grasping your hand.

You sighed, squeezing her hand back as you tried to find the right words to explain your feelings. “I just realised how useless I am. I mean, Steve was shot, and I completely froze; I think all I was able to do was scream. I didn’t even put pressure on the wound or hold his hand. After everything I’ve seen whilst being a part of this gang, you’d think I’d be more aware of intense situations and how to handle myself, but everything just flashed before me and how close I was to losing one of the men I love. And Steve - god, I’m so embarrassed! I’m too scared to look at him properly for fear of seeing shame in his eyes at how I reacted. I mean, what kind of a girlfriend am I to the infamous Steve Rogers, the leader of one of the most dangerous gangs in Brooklyn? I couldn’t handle something he’d been training me to be prepared for. He must have thought I was pathetic”.

“Do you really think I’d ever think that about you?” Steve asked from the doorway with Bucky over his shoulder, both looking defeated.

You were startled at his appearance, cursing his silent steps as you also felt somewhat vulnerable with him having heard your worries. “I, um, I didn’t want you to hear that”.

Steve sighed as he roughly rubbed his palm over his face and stepped further into the room. Natasha stood with a last squeeze of your hand before exiting and patting Bucky on the shoulder as she moved past him and out, leaving the three of you alone.

“Baby, you know I would never think any of those things of you. What happened was a horrible mistake, and I wish more than anything that you weren’t there to witness it. I always want to keep you protected, physically and mentally and trust me, if anything ever happened to you, I’d-” he closed his mouth, eyes clenching in a flinch like even just the thought of you being injured caused him physical pain.

Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder, “The main point here is that you’re both ok. There’s no point dwelling on the past, and we all react differently when we see loved ones hurt, so I don’t want to hear anymore self-doubt coming out of your lips”, Bucky reprimanded whilst giving you a pointed look and pulling himself and Steve closer towards you.

You couldn’t help but squeal as he moved back your chair, turning it to face them as they each pulled their chairs close enough that their knees brushed yours. Steve cupped your hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss your fingers and palms. “Please don’t shut me out, and next time you have any anxiety over what's happened, you need to talk to me, Sweetheart”, Steve urged whilst maintaining eye contact that you didn’t break this time.

“I will; I’m sorry” Without missing a beat, you closed the distance and kissed him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your back, pulling your body into his lap so he could hold you close.

“God, you two are going to make me cry in a minute”, Bucky suddenly announced, leaning back in his chair and wiping away an imaginary tear from his eye. Steve rolled his eyes as he held you closer with one hand and reached out with the other for Bucky to take, which he did with a smirk, removing the now empty chair so that he could be knee to knee with Steve and place his metal hand on your lower back.

“As much as I love my life, I sometimes hate how dramatic it is”,  Steve mused a second later as he kissed the side of your head.

“Mmm, I agree - shit, this drink is good”, Bucky half shouted as he drank more of the cocoa in the mug as you turned towards him with an amused smile. He looked at you and paused mid-sip, “This is yours, isn’t it?” he realised out loud before swearing and slamming the mug back onto the table. “Shit, sorry, I thought it was Romanoff’s. I’ll buy you a special treat on our way home, which I think we need to discuss, by the way”.

Steve sat up straight in his chair, causing you to move slightly in his lap as he gave Bucky a questioning stare, “What’s wrong with home?”

“Nothing’s wrong with home; why do you always assume the worst?” Bucky questioned with his head tilted to the side, catching your eye and winking before continuing. “I was just thinking that maybe the two of you need some special time alone tonight”.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere either”, you say quickly, not wishing to be separated from either of them.

Bucky’s fingers reassuringly added pressure to your back as he gently shook his head, showing the misunderstanding. “I didn’t mean it like that, Doll. I just meant maybe you two could have some fun together, and luckily for you two, I have something in mind”.

Bucky’s plan for you and Steve resulted in the two of you hours later being naked in your bedroom with him watching in a chair.

“Remind me why I’m handcuffed again?” Steve asked with a sarcastic drawl from where he lay in the centre of the bed, his head carefully resting on the fluffed pillows and both wrists handcuffed above his head around the bed frame.

“Well, you tend to be all dominate and in charge when you’re having sex, and I think our sweet girl needs some reminding that you’re ok, you’re safe, and what better way for her to do that than her to be in control of how she touches your body?” Bucky explains nonchalantly as he rubs a hand over his growing bulge in his underwear, the rest of his clothes in a pile on the floor.

“Ok, that makes sense, but why the blindfold?” Steve asked, tilting his head toward where Bucky was sitting but couldn’t see with the thick black cloth tied around his head covering his eyesight.

“Ah well, that's just fun for me; I get to watch our beautiful girl at work; you get to feel it. I mean, I need to have some fun tonight”, Bucky responded cheekily as you smiled whilst trying to adjust your weight from where you sat naked, straddling Steve’s chest.

“I’m um, I’m not very good at being in charge” You tried to hide the quiver in your voice, but instantly, your cheeks began to warm with embarrassment.

Bucky leaned forward in his chair, capturing your attention fully as he gave you a reassuring smile, “Like I explained, Sweetheart. All I want you to think about is your pleasure. You can get yourself off, fuck Steve, use toys, whatever you’d like to feel good but don’t worry about Stevie, boy; he can handle whatever you’re going to give him”.

“I sure as fuck can” Steve grinned as he rolled his hips, causing you to gasp and lean forward, putting your hands out onto his shoulders to stop yourself from falling.

“Hey! None of that now, Rogers. Just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride,” Bucky grinned, showing his straight teeth as it was your turn to roll your eyes before focusing your attention on Steve.

One of the reasons you were never the one to be in charge, other than you were submissive down to the very bone, was that you were unsure what to do. To Steve and Bucky, it seemed to come so quickly for them, knowing where to touch, the next move to have you groaning in pleasure, but sitting there staring down at Steve, you were unsure where to touch him or how to start. Do you just slide a few inches back and sit on his already hard cock? Do you suck his cock for a bit or jerk him off? But what if he came and you overstimulated him?

“I can see you are overthinking over there. Remember what I said; think about your pleasure only”, Bucky reminded you quietly.

Nodding your head, you took a moment to stare down at Steve, and the events over the last few days dawned on you. Even though he’d survived significantly worse in his life, you couldn't help but contemplate just how close to losing everything you’d ever dreamed of and needed. Having him here, beneath you, living and breathing.

Before you could lose yourself to the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill over, you decided to clear your mind of those negative thoughts by lowering your mouth to his. The two of you released a breath simultaneously as Steve eagerly pressed his face firmly against yours, his head lifting off the pillow slightly.

It wasn’t a desperately messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. It was a kiss that had the moment standing still as your hand rested over his heart, feeling the beat beneath, having the reminder that he was still here with you.

Pulling back from the kiss so that you were hovering over his face, you whispered intimately, “I love you”.

“I love you too,” was his instant response in the same calm tone, like a whisper in the wind.

Swallowing the emotional lump in your throat, you briefly pecked his lips once before trailing kisses down his chin and exploring the column of his throat, smiling as you felt him swallow beneath your lips. With your hands, you trailed your fingertips down his arms, feeling goosebumps lining his skin as you moved to meet where your mouth met his skin.

Slowly as you could, you kissed your way down his chest, making sure to lick and nip his peaked nipples, enjoying the little gasps he released as you contemplated that you’d never noticed how sensitive his nipples actually were. Further down, you moved as your legs shifted between him, making sure that his legs were spread so that you could fit between him perfectly.

As your lips continued giving open-mouthed kisses over his abs, you aimed for the pink scar close to his hip bone. The kiss pressed to the recently claimed gunshot injury that had even lightened in the shade since this morning with his accelerated healing. Steve’s legs tensed as he tried to refrain from thrusting his hips into the air as your breasts pressed against his thick length that you were attempting to ignore whilst worshipping his body.

“This is a cute moment and all, but I wanna see you cum already, Doll”, Bucky groaned impatiently as you looked at him over your shoulder as he sat with his hands clenched in his lap, as he continued to refrain from touching himself even though he was evidently very much aroused.

You smile against Steve’s skin and take one last breath of his natural body scent that had mixed with the spicy aftershave he’d used earlier this morning. Taking your time, you shift back to your original position of sitting across his abs, carefully sitting above the fresh scar that was still sensitive.

“I think I want to put these chiselled abs to good work”, you say whilst stroking a finger down them, laughing to yourself as Steve tensed, defining them even more solidly. Relaxing the position of your thighs, you sighed as your wetness now rested against his abdomen.

It wasn’t as satisfying as humping against his thigh because of the flat shape of his toned body, but that didn’t stop you from riding him slowly, making sure to really drag your clit in small circles against his body.

Your moans were breathy and gentle as your pleasure bloomed in your core, especially as Steve struggled to keep his emotions and body in heck beneath.

Licking his lips, he admitted, “I really fucking wish I could see you right now”.

“Oh, don’t you worry, big boy, she looks beautiful, there’s no doubt about that”, Bucky responded as he finally moved his black boxers to midthigh, his hand wrapped around his shaft as he matched the pace you were driving.

Deciding you needed something that had more definition than his perfectly sculpted abdomen, you shifted back down the bed until your cunt was flushed with Steve’s shaft that was hard and resting against his pubic bone. There was already a patch of precum that had pooled, and without thinking, you scooped it up with your finger and sucked the juices, savouring the musky saltiness.

“Holy shit”, Bucky cursed as his eyelids lowered in arousal.

Steve was trembling with restraint now as you began to slide your warm cunt against his shaft, making sure not to go over the tip as you wanted to savour the feel of his length first before fucking yourself on him.

In this position, you were quickly coating his cock in your juices, helping to prepare him for when you did want to sit on his cock, which, in fairness, would probably be soon with how horny you were feeling.

Faster and with more pressure, you ground down on his shaft until the burning in your core exploded, your cunt pulsing around nothing as you shivered through the sensation, breathing deeply with soft moans.

Leaning your hands on his chest, you shifted your hips forward, catching the tip of his cock against your pussy and continuing with the slow movements, not wanting to rush the adrenaline and burn that came with his cock thoroughly stretching your walls.

“So fucking tight”, Steve cursed, pressing his head back further into the pillow as the veins in his arms bulged as he restrained himself from easily snapping out of the handcuffs.

You couldn’t think of coherent words to respond, so sighed in satisfaction, taking a moment to savour the sensation. Eventually, though, the hunger for more became ravenous as you began to lift yourself off of his cock and then slam back onto him.

It was different riding him like this; usually, if you were on top, he’d either have a hand around your throat or his hands gripping your hips tightly and directing your movements. With all the movements being down to just your body, it was almost like having a life-size sex toy that moaned and breathed.

Additionally, it meant that you could really draw out the orgasm that was already threatening to suffocate around his cock as you rode him with slamming hips. Eventually, it all came too much, and with one hand on his chest and the other gripping your breast to squeeze the flesh, you had your second orgasm and a shiver of pleasure.

“You’re so fucking big”, you moaned as you attempted to catch your breath but settled for a different motion instead of riding up and down. Keeping your hips flush with his so that his balls rested against your arse, you began to circle your hips clockwise and then anticlockwise.

Steve gasped as his chest heaved with the attempt of arching his back. “Wait, Steve, shut up for a second”, Bucky demanded, and the three of you stopped making moaning noises, but you continued with your grinding and hip circles, which was when you could hear it too. The obscene sounds of your gushing cunt, sloshing and slurping with the movements. It felt incredible to be so full of Steve, but hearing how much this move was making him lose his mind only motivated you through feeling breathless.

“Holy shit, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard, but if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum”, Steve grunted, his mouth hanging open so that his grunts of pleasure were unfiltered. Bucky was just as vocal from where he sat, getting himself off.

“I want you to cum; please cum for me, Sir”, you begged as Steve moaned at the nickname used. As his dick hardened inside of you, your fingers quickly began to circle your drenched clit matching the movements of your hips as you joined him by cumming at the same time, squeezing his shaft with your walls and milking his cock internally.

It felt unbelievably satisfying to feel the liquid filling you entirely and having no other room but to leak out of the sides and onto his pubic area. Your thighs have tightened so tightly around Steve’s body you were sure if he didn’t have his healing ability, you’d have caused bruises from where your knees had dug into his side.

He never complained once, though, as he tried to catch his breath just as desperately as you were. Slumping forward, your face rested against his chest, directly over his heart so that you could listen to the wild racing of his heart. You were exhausted from riding his cock, and for a moment, you determined the fantastic shape he was in was probably down to being on top all the time.

Your thighs and abdomen muscles ached as you determined you needed a little break from the riding but not from the orgasm, and even though you were feeling a little overstimulated internally, you were somewhat determined to see how far you could go.

Reaching blindly on the bed, you found the vibrating wand and moved it between your bodies until it rested against your clit. With Steve’s cock still somehow still hard, you remained with him inside of you as you turned on the vibrator.

Steve groaned as the vibrations were felt through not just his pubic mound but also your cunt as both were stimulated by the powerful toy. It wasn’t even on the highest setting, but it was enough to take your breath away at first, soon, you settled down, content with simply lying there until an orgasm built.

For a moment, you contemplated releasing Steve from his handcuffs so that he could wrap his big arms around you, but you knew that once he was free from those handcuffs, it would be a free-for-all.

One orgasm spiralled into two, and you had to push the vibrator away as the ache deepened within your cunt. You were exhausted and on the verge of becoming entirely too overstimulated for the orgasms.

“I- I don’t think I can cum again”, you admit whilst gently rocking yourself against Steve’s cock.

“Could I make one request?” Steve asks whilst licking his lips, his voice just as deep as it is when he first wakes up.

“Hmm?” you say in response.

“Sit on my face. I know you’ve had enough, you don’t have to cum, and if it hurts, I’ll stop, but I wanna taste you so bad right now”, Steve pleaded.

“How could I say no to that request”, you muse. Carefully and with a great deal of mess, you slipped off of his throbbing cock, which twitched in the air as his and your juices continued to drip out of your cunt and down his shaft.

With the way you’d climbed off, you ended up kneeling over his face so that you were facing down his body, staring and admiring his cock until the other man in the room caught your attention as Bucky kneeled on the bed.

Just as you lowered your soaking cunt onto Steve’s hot mouth, Bucky reached forward and began to stroke Steve’s cock. The mafia boss beneath you nearly choked on his own cum as he drank down the juices flowing out of you but soon found a rhythm, and as his hips rolled to meet the strokes of Bucky's metal fist, his tongue and lips matched this.

Reaching forward, you pulled Bucky in for a desperate kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, dominating in every way. With the taste of your cunt in his mouth and Bucky’s fist, Steve was cumming again as Bucky carefully caught the thick white seed in his fist, licking up every drop that Steveall but screamed out with his orgasm.

This time, you watched as his cock softened, and carefully you crawled off his face with the help of Bucky’s steady and damp hands. With Bucky’s lips against yours, he stated, “I know you’re not done yet, get back on him”.

Pulling back, you looked down at Steve’s clammy body and the pink blush that had hued over his chest as you determined, “Won’t I hurt him if I sit on his overstimulated cock?”

Steve answered for Bucky, “Fuck no, you won’t hurt me. Get back on Princess”, he pleads desperately. Turning back to face Steve, you try and angle his soft cock at your entrance, but it wouldn’t go back in as Steve cursed at the handling.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?” you asked fearfully.

“Yes, I’m sure just- I don’t know. Buck, grip me hard in your fist or something,” he responded, sounding frustrated with his body for a second. You had to bite your lip as Bucky shrugged and gripped Steve’s flaccid cock in his hand, causing the blonde to gasp and arch his back, nearly knocking you over in the process. “Yeah, just like that.”

“You know Steve, some would call you a freak for getting off on pain like that”, Bucky joked half-heartedly as his fist began pumping up and down the hardening cock in his hand.

“Yeah, well, you’re one to talk”, Steve sassed back as he finally became hard enough that you could slide back down his cock. “Just a warning if I cum again, I’ll probably be shooting air out”.

Again, you had to bite your lip to hold back the laugh from Steve’s admission. Bucky led beside the two of you, reaching over to tilt Steve’s blindfolded face towards him. “I thought you could go all night? What’s the point in having all of these special abilities if you’re already shooting blanks after two orgasms”, Bucky contemplated.

“Yeah, well, you have her sit on your cock and see how long you last, asshole”, Steve bite back earning a chuckle from Bucky as you watched them both fondly, trying to get to find a good rhythm to move your body, opting for a slow in and out and circle of your hips.

The soaking noises of your wet cunt began to fill the atmosphere once more as Steve and Bucky started to make out, dimming the noise of their moans. Bucky eased back and whispered into Steve’s ear, “Do you hear how wet she is? Best you can feel it, how sopping wet our girl is. Aw, poor thing she’s getting tired”, Bucky smirks as you frown at him. You were exhausted, but you weren’t letting that stop your movements, by the way, Bucky was winking at you, you knew he was up to something.

Steve gritted his teeth, almost growling as he contemplated his next move, and you realised Bucky was antagonising him as the next second, Steve’s snapping out of the handcuffs. You’re suddenly on your back in the middle of the bed as he rolls the two of you over.

Steve’s face delves into the crook of your neck as your legs are instantly pushed back so that your knees nearly brush against your chest as he completely crowds around you. Clearly having driven him to his limit, Steve did not hold back; he began to fuck you with unfathomably hard and fast thrusts.

His cock was a blur as it pounded into your drenched cunt. All you could do was cling to him, nails scratching into the skin of his shoulders and then up to his jaw, pulling his face back so that you could push his blindfold up that was still covering his eyesight. He blinked down at you, groaning at the sight beneath him as he kissed you feverishly.

You were stuck between kissing, moaning and trying to gasp for breath as your orgasm plummeted through your cunt until you were close to sobbing with the overwhelming emotions. Steve’s powerful body fucked you deep into the bed until he was deeply crying out your name with the trembling effects of his third orgasm. From the feeling of it, he definitely wasn't shooting blanks as more of his seed oozed out of your well-used cunt.

He remained on top of you for a while, his body keeping yours warm as you breathed one another in, but eventually, he was moved onto his side by a gentle hand of Bucky’s.

“Come on, big boy, I need you to move over so I can clean you both up”, the brunette explained as he sat on the bed with a warm washcloth. Steve sighed in contentment but remained with his arms around your torso as he observed Bucky clean up his sensitive flaccid cock.

As Bucky moved between your legs, you tiredly gasped, “Wait, you didn’t get to cum, Bucky”.

Bucky grinned up at you, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he explained, “Oh, don’t worry, I did, twice. You should see the back of Steve; think I might have got some in his hair as he was fucking you into next week”.

Steve quietly cursed before chuckling as he reached a hand behind his head, “Well, the sheets are thoroughly ruined for tonight then”.