#a metal pipe through his thigh? sure of course

[zeroducks-2]

Hi.

(Justice League: The Flashpoint Paradox)

Today in "I swear I was not watching porn you just walked in at the wrong time-"

[uchihabbynic]

Trafalgar Law x Crewmate! Fem Reader - Caught

Warning: NSFW, porn with v minimal plot, (m) self pleasuring, Law is forever a mess with his emotions but we love to see it 🤧 🖤

As the journey to Wano Country drew near, Law allowed his crew to indulge in a bit of fun to reset and recharge before their next voyage. Lately, Law had been so frazzled in your presence, letting the taboo that is his crush consume him in ways he wasn't accustomed to. Women were usually a non factor for the Captain of the Heart Pirates but he’d known you for quite some time now and you were practically his right hand; A position that wasn’t to be taken lightly and not easily given. 

The level of trust the Captain had in you was unmatched and everyone around the two of you could see the vastly different ways Law interacted with you vs. the rest of the crew. Some would chalk it up to longtime friendship, but his crew knew him better than anyone and could easily see through the lingering stares, the gentle but unnecessary touches - even the way in which Law spoke with much more care towards you. Granted, this had only been a recent occurrence but he wasn’t nearly as sneaky with his feelings as he thought he was. 

The icing on top of the cake was when a pipe leak was discovered in your sleeping quarters and Law didn’t hesitate to offer up his bedroom - just temporarily, of course. When the suggestion was made in front of the crew, you happily agreed to stay with him but this didn’t come without the snickers and giggles from the other crew mates; Bepo being the ringleader. Law roared at his subordinates to go make themselves useful as he felt his cheeks rapidly heat up, embarrassed that your shared proximity had turned his loyal steadfast crew into an all out circus of hoots and hollers. 

This was already coming off of Law feeling unlike himself all week. It was bad enough that he began to think about you in every decision that he made - every time he managed to lay his head on his pillow and even the moment he opened his eyes in the early hours of the morning, you were his first and last thoughts. But, just 3 days prior to you moving into Law’s bedroom, he could have sworn he heard the faint cries of his name roll off your sweet tongue between the cold, metal walls separating your quarters from his. 

At first, he was sure it was a dream after having nodded out with his face in a book but those faint, melodic moans were oh so real and indeed kept him up all night. Trafalgar cursed himself, feeling shameful that he'd begun to look at you differently, think of you … differently; letting the sinful thoughts he normally kept buried in the innermost crevice of his brain, come flying to the forefront of his mind. 

Frustrated, Law began to assume you were teasing him on purpose with the way you’d parade around the bedroom with nothing on but his yellow Heart Pirates hoodie that just barely covered the top of your plush thighs. When he first noticed you’d stolen his hoodie one evening before dinner, his mouth practically hit the floor, not expecting to see you wearing his clothes. He felt his heart drop to his ass, eyes shifting nervously when he saw the way your curves stretched the hoodie in all the right places. 

Needless to say, the man had been a flustered mess all week. 

Fortunately for Law, you decided to join the rest of the crew for a night out at a local tavern giving him the time and space needed to recompose himself. He was a Captain and your respected leader. What did he look like indulging in perverted childlike fantasies? 

At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself. 

As you were preparing to go out for the evening, Law stepped outside your shared quarters to give you the privacy you needed to get dressed, however; when you made your grand outfit reveal, the Captain swallowed harshly - throat feeling painfully dry and constricted. You practically knocked the air from his lungs when he saw the way in which the ribbed bodycon material clung to your hips or even the way your cleavage spilled out the front - only to be contained by thin straps that hung off the shoulder. 

“You’re going out wearing that?” Law frowned, examining you from head to toe, awkwardly clearing his throat, realizing that his question came off way more forward and controlling than he intended for it to. 

“Mhm.” you responded casually as you ran your fingers through your freshly curled hair. 

“Something wrong with my outfit?” you asked back, slightly annoyed at Law’s tone as you turned to face him, letting him get an even clearer view of your fit. 

Law immediately shifted his head to the floor, hiding his eyes under the brim of his hat. How stupid! He thought to himself.

“Course not. I-” Law stumbled over his words trying to make sense of what he meant to say, in a futile attempt to not make an even bigger fool of himself. “Bars can be unsafe you know, just … be careful is all.” Law managed as he regained his stoic demeanor. 

“Thanks, Dad-” you said sarcastically, but instantly covered your mouth at the snippy comment that flew out at your superior without even a second thought. “I mean, Captain.” you quickly corrected yourself, nervous that you’d be scolded for being a smartass. 

Law’s words got caught in his throat as the nickname dripped from your tongue. His mind was clearly in the gutter so much so, he glossed over the fact that you were being a bit too sassy for his liking. Law just grumbled and made his way to his desk, burying himself into his studies, the way one always does on a Friday night if you’re Trafalgar Law. 

As much as he convinced himself that this was about your safety, a nagging, intrusive voice in the back of his head decided to surface. 

What if someone else had caught your attention? 

With the way you looked in your dress, there was no way that other men wouldn’t take notice and that didn’t sit right with Law. He wasn’t your boyfriend so what could he really say or do besides sulk and drown in his own pity that he wasn't man enough to ask you out himself and accompany you to the tavern. 

12:30am struck the clock and Law had been alone, isolated in his bedroom for some time now. Hunched over his desk with only a small warm-hued lamp to provide light; there were papers, highlighters and books scattered about as this was certainly not an unusual scene for the Doctor. Gray irises slowly disappeared under tired, heavy lids as he found himself zoning out more than usual.

As he leaned back in his desk chair for a break, his mind took a sudden turn. Sounds of your needy whimpers and cries rang out in Trafalgar’s ears, replaying the way you desperately called out his name a few nights prior. Law could feel the room closing in on him. His button up shirt felt a bit hot and his signature spotted jeans felt more constricted than usual. With a quick glance down, it was evident that he’d gotten turned on from the thought of your fingers being knuckles deep inside of your sweet cunt, pleasuring yourself, mere feet away from his bedroom. 

Law sat back and exhaled deeply trying to calm himself and the primal urges he often suppressed. However, he’d been so overstimulated; truly drunk off you these past few days that he needed to relieve this pent up stress. It was slowly bubbling for days to come, often having been ignored, but the way his cock was now painfully pushing against the rough fabric of his jeans, Law knew something needed to be done. 

Just one time wouldn’t hurt. 

Law decided to peek over at the clock once more. He knew that the crew would be out for at least 30 minutes more and figured a quick stress reliever would do the trick. 

The Doctor fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, instantly shoving them down just far enough to release his strained cock. With a sigh, Law palmed the thick outline of his member, savoring the feeling of the soft cotton providing friction against his swollen tip.  

For once, Law completely let himself go as he rested his head back on the comfortable leather pad of his chair. Pulling his cock out completely, he gave it one slow, experimental stroke, hissing from the contact. 

He immediately got to work, spitting on his hand and placing firm tattooed fingers around the base of his cock, stroking himself at a steady pace as he thought about you being on your knees in front of him in that pretty little dress you wore out tonight. How sweet it would be for those luscious lips to be wrapped around the tip of his cock, suckling with such force and intent that his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

Law’s breathing began to increase and quiet grunts left his lips as he let his head lull backwards, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack, fully embracing this much needed alone time. Law wrapped his fingers around his cock a bit tighter as he picked up the pace, fucking himself with his hand. Images of your mascara-run tear stained face filled his mind as he envisioned that his warm, wet hand was your mouth sucking and slurping fervently as he shoved himself down your throat. 

“Fuck … keep going, love. Just like that.” He panted out, desperate whines finding their way past his slightly chapped lips. Law’s chest heaved as he began pumping faster, bringing himself closer to his release. 

“God, Y/N-ya, you suck this cock so well …” The words sensually left his mouth with each pump.

Wet squelching sounds bounced off the metal walls as Law mindlessly fucked his hand, wishing it was your sweet mouth. He so desperately wanted to shove his cock down your throat, mercilessly fucking your face and release his creamy seed all over your delicious tits. 

His vision began to blur as he found himself on the edge of his orgasm, mindlessly using his other hand to fondle his balls, tugging gently while simultaneously focusing on the tip. The pleasure was overwhelming and Law knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It wasn’t often he relieved himself so he knew the load would be massive. 

The pornographic sounds of his pleasure echoed in the metal room as he struggled to keep his grunts under wraps. Your name now tumbling from his lips like a wicked chant with every pump. Beads of sweat gathered around his hairline, causing some of his jet black locks to stick to the sides of his face. With just a few pumps left, he knew that his hand would soon be filled with his milky essence. 

As Law brought himself to the cusp of orgasm, there was suddenly a knock at the door causing him to be distracted from his last few strokes. Startled, he released the grip on his cock but it started to involuntarily twitch, spurting tons of thick cum all over his hand and his lap. Law’s unexpected hands free orgasm hit him so suddenly, his fist flew to his mouth biting down, to ensure there would be no sounds made as he rode out his high. 

“O-one moment!” He called out to the guest on the other side of the door, praying that his shaky breath wasn't obvious. Law scowled and scrambled to find tissue underneath the piles of books on his desk, desperate to clean up the evidence of his arousal and pull his pants back up. 

As Law hurriedly zipped his jeans, he walked to the door casually, hoping that his delay wouldn’t raise any red flags. To his surprise, you were standing on the other side with a lust blown expression on your face.

“Everything alright?” you asked hesitantly, hoping that the flush on your face would be written off as too much alcohol and not the fact that you’d been listening to Law pleasure himself for the last 10 minutes. Your legs were like jelly, your mind was clouded, and the arousal that pooled between your thighs was fierce as you were sure your ears didn’t deceive you.  

“Yes, all good here.” Law managed to keep a composed poker face, now stepping aside to let you inside of your shared bedroom.

 “How was your night out? The crew behave themselves?” Law did his best to keep the casual conversation flowing. He was slightly fidgety because he had no idea how long you’d been standing outside of the door before you actually decided to knock.

“Crew was fine.” You said casually, as you stepped inside and examined the bedroom only to spot a balled up tissue left in the corner of Law’s desk. 

“How about you? Good evening?” You initially figured it’d be best to play dumb. You knew Law was an anxious man and being put on the spot was something he hated the most but with the performance he just put on, there was no way you’d let an opportunity such as this slip by. 

Law plopped down on the bed, rubbing his face, exhausted from the orgasm that washed over him moments before you came in. “Yeah, I uh, caught up on some late night reading … you know how that is.” Law was lying straight through his teeth because why would he admit the truth, right?

Suddenly, you kicked off your heels without saying a single word in response. You slowly brought your body across the bedroom until you were standing directly in front of Law, who now had a confused look on his face. 

“You know Captain, if you wanted it … you could have just asked.” You said softly with a small smile. You blamed the alcohol for your boldness as you forcefully gripped the front of Law’s muscular shoulders and pushed him on his back. 

Law’s eyes practically bulged out of his head, a look of pure horror ran across his face as he began to put two and two together. 

You heard. You heard everything. 

As Law tried to process a million emotions a minute; embarrassment, shame, guilt, all at once - suddenly a look of calm caressed his features. Eerily calm. He realized that he was exposed and that there was nothing he could do to deny this so he in fact, decided to play along. A sly smirk grazed his lips. 

“Y/N-ya…” the deep, gruff tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine as you listened to him say your name with so much lust and desire. 

“Yes, Captain?” you said sweetly and batted your eyes innocently as you began to crawl onto his lap, straddling him in your tiny dress, red lacy thong peeking through.

“Show me exactly what you were doing in your room the other night…” Law demanded, his voice sounding sexy and smooth like silk as he looked up directly into your eyes. 

“And don’t you dare play dumb with me…”

tags: @jordyn-degas @unsuretater-simp 🖤

[crystalbeetle888]

Voyage into the Unknown Pt.4

Master List Pt.3 - Pt.4 - Pt.5

Trigger warning- Minor verbal sexual harassment, general violence,

The travelling days are long and tedious, however riding with the dwarf princes is at least entertaining. The two share fantastic stories of their otherworldly life. Stories of icy kingdoms embedded into blue mountains, conflicts with elves and goblins, and travelling great adventures across the world. It makes my simple life seem quite insignificant. Eight days finally pass and the town of Bree can finally be spotted through the trees. A large stone wall surrounds the village. As we pass through the tall wooden gate and down the cobblestone streets, many human folk give us questioning looks. Gandalf leads the company through some smaller back-alleys in order to avoid the townspeople's snooping, before stopping at a small open stable connected to a larger building. Securing the horses the company makes their way inside, the Inn is relatively empty aside from a few drunk men asleep at the bar. “How can I be of service?” A fat, jolly looking man behind the bar smiles warmly at the strange company. Gandalf steps forwards “We need around uh- sixteen beds, just for tonight” The man nods and pulls out a book covered in scribbled writing “Well we can do- My attention drifts away as I survey the room, the dwarves also wandering off to explore. I join Dwalin, Oin, and Gloin who have put some of the tables together to create one long sitting arrangement. Plopping down in a chair my bum and thighs ache from the constant horse riding, I groan in discomfort kicking my bag under the table while pouting like a sook. Bofur sits down beside me, patting me roughly on the shoulder “Ow” I cry out, “Oh stop it woman, I barely touched ya” He laughs rubbing the spot he hit. I lay my head on the table and let out a whine, closing my eyes “Leave the lass alone she’s probably never roughed it like this before” Dwalin chides him before sitting across from me “We’ll get some food in ya, you’ll feel right then” he says pulling out a metal smoking pipe. Bofur sits down on my left and Thorin on my right, of course at the head of the table. A tap on my right hand causes me to look over at him “Some complications have arisen, you and I will share a room whilst the rest of the company will be split amongst two others, is this alright with you?” Thorin speaks quietly and I nod in response “Alright, I will inform the others” He wanders away to speak to each dwarf individually. 

It feels like forever before a young woman comes and begins placing plates of food on the table “Here you are, I’ll just go grab the rest” lifting my head I see that the four plates have already been claimed, huffing I place my head back down ‘This is going to take forever’.

A tap on my head breaks me out of my self-wallowing and I look up to see Kili pushing over his plate from across the table “Here, you should eat first” he says. Unbeknownst to me, the surrounding conversation quiets down as the company tunes in.  “Are you sure?” I pout at the sentiment. Kili nods enthusiastically “Take it”. I hesitantly slide the plate in front of me “Thank you” I say and Kili smiles proudly. His brother patted him on the shoulder and Dwalin next to him nodded his head in approval. The stew is thick with juicy lamb and soft potatoes, smothered in a gravy like sauce. I sigh at the heavenly taste. As the company finally gets their meals and begins to dig in I just about finish mine, except for a small loaf of fresh bread and cheese. 

Being completely stuffed, I pick up the loaf and cheese, and lean over the table shaking it at Kili. “You want it?” I offer, he looks up in surprise. “Me?” He points to himself and I roll my eyes “No, the other guy named Kili” He smiles widely, slightly red in the cheeks. He gently takes the food from me, rough hands brushing mine “Thank you” He says and I smile back. Loud cheers and laughter erupts from the company as they hit their jugs together, Fili smacking his brother’s shoulder roughly. The sudden loudness surprises me and I laugh along, pretending to understand as they begin to talk in another language around the table. I turn to Thorin giving him an awkward smile “I think I’d like to call it a night now” he gives me a raised brow before nodding and handing me the key ‘I’ll be up to join you shortly’. Getting up I grab my bag from under the table and head up the creaky wooden stairs, the drunken cheering can still be heard from the second floor. “Number 4?” I mutter to myself walking through the long hall. Finding the room I gently push open the door and peek inside. The room was small with two single beds next to each other. Across from the beds a small fireplace with a pile of wood on the side sits. A large empty metal drum sits in front of the fire. Before I can even wonder what it’s for the young curly haired woman from before bustles past me carrying a heavy bucket of water. “Sorry Miss can’t stop once I start” She says with a thick Welsh accent, pouring the water into the drum. “Nah s’alright mate, you need any help?” She nods, smiling gratefully “It’d save me the extra trip, come on, follow me then” She hurries past me down the other end of the hall. Quickly trotting after her, we walk down a small set of stairs and out a back door in the kitchen, grabbing an extra bucket on the way. The back streets are silent and dark, giving an eerie feeling to the atmosphere as we travel closer to the edge of town. “Here we are,” she says, coming to an old looking bore pump. “I’ll pump” I offer, placing the bucket underneath. “If you’re sure Miss, pump been giving me a hard time lately”. Grabbing the handle, and flexing my core, I pull it down heavily with my body weight, the old machine groaning as a blast of water falls out. Twice more and the first bucket is full. “Once more Miss, then I’ll set you free” she jokes, swapping the buckets out. Huffing from the exertion I grab the handle again, once, twice- “Evening ladies” a voice breaks the silence, causing the two of us to turn. Three tipsy men creep out of the shadows into the street's lantern lights. “Awfully cold to be out here by your lonesome, I’m sure we could find a way to warm yous up” He and his goon friends laugh, stumbling closer “Not interested mate” I snap firmly at them. The men ooh and laugh “This one’s got balls aye” He sauntered over to us “I’m sure I’ll be able to fix that though” He whispers, grasping my arm, the pungent smell of yeast flowing off his breath. 

Swiftly, I grab his arm back, pulling him forward and bashing the top of my skull into his nose. Blood squirts violently from his nose as he clutches his face “Shit!” he yells, stumbling backwards. Pain spikes my head ‘Fuck that was a bad move’ I straighten myself out, blood dripping down my face. The greasy man picks himself up “You whore!” he yells, raising a lazy fist and charging. Side stepping out of the way, I grab his shirt and swing him into the metal pump with a loud crack, his body slumping onto the ground pathetically. Turning towards the other woman I smile at her triumphantly before an unexpected force hits the side of my head. Disoriented, I trip over, turning towards the other men. One stood in front, and the other younger one cowering behind him. The man swings his arm widely and I quickly duck underneath it before delivering an uppercut, throwing him on his ass. “Stay down!” I yell, before directing my attention to the last man standing, who hesitantly puts his fists up. I falsely charge at him, roaring as I hurl towards him angrily. He jumps back in fright before scampering away into the night. His friends, groaning and whining, pick eachother up off the ground and follow him, leaving me and the woman alone once again. 

“By Gods that was impressive” she says, breaking me out of my trance. I turn to her, breathing heavily and heart pounding “I mean, are you alright Miss?” she smiles shamefully. I nod in response before grabbing the bore handle again and finally giving it one last pull, filling up the second bucket. “Let’s head inside before they come back” I say, the side of my face aches with a dull pain. 

Making our way back into the room I thump the bucket down next to the drum, before walking over and flopping onto the furthest bed. “I’m sorry about what occurred tonight Miss, those wild folk can be a real nuisance when they come into town” “Wild folk?” I ask. “Yes, rangers Miss, they live in the wilds between towns, no laws out there” I hum in thought “I’ll keep that in mind”. The woman stands taking the two buckets with her “There, all ready for you Miss, you should wash up quick before your husband wants to hop in first”. I sit up to respond but she’s already left, closing the door behind her. Sighing, I stand and make my way over to the tub swishing my hand in the hot water. Quickly stripping off, I hop inside the drum, clearly not meant for bathing in, but maybe washing clothes in. I hastily rub the dirt off my body and rinse my hair, the developing bruise on my face and head aches. Once I’m more or less clean, I hop back out and dress in my long sleeve, cargo pants, and socks. A knock sounds from the door before it creaks open and Thorin enters “You left it unlocked?” he asks. “Apparently” I shrug, turning around and drying my hair, also hiding my bruised face. “The waters’ still hot if you want me to wait outside” I offer “That would be appreciated” He says.

As Thorin has his turn in the slightly too small tub, I sit on the ground across the door in the hall. Hiding my face behind my hand, as multiple company members walk past drunkenly and into their own room, giving me no mind. After some time, Thorin opens the door in a loose blue linen shirt and pants, he says nothing as I stand up and walk back inside, closing the door behind me and locking it. Thorin gently grasps my arm as I attempt to walk past him “You’re injured” he says, turning my hand over and inspecting my bruised and scabby knuckles. I laugh nervously “Ah, yeah, my hand slipped and I hit it into the- bedpost” I say, swinging my hair in front of my face. “Both hands?” he asks, definitely not believing me, “I’m clumsy?”

Thorin sighs, and gently touches my chin, turning my head to face him “Did your face slip also?” he asks unamused. I roll my eyes “I really don’t need your shit tonight Thorin” I huff, walking away and flopping on my bed. He follows, sitting at the end “At least let me inspect them”. I hesitate before sitting up. He scoots forwards, and takes my hands in his yet again. His rough fingers trace my knuckles gently “You won’t need stitches, but they should be wrapped to protect you from infection” he gets up and rummages through his pack before returning with two rolls of mostly white bandages and a smile vile. Thorin pours out some of the viscus liquid onto my knuckles, rubbing it in gently. The potion stings and smells strongly of honey and herbs. After wrapping both my hands, he directs his attention to my bruised temple and cheekbone, brushing my hair from my face. His hot breath fans across my face as he leans in to get a closer look. The lack of distance begins to make my cheeks burn, and my face feels hot. ‘Jesus I need help’ I think shamefully. 

Before I can get too flustered, Thorin pulls back “Your face will heal fine, it’s just a bruise” I let out a heavy breath and nod in response. “Do you have any others?” He asks “I headbutted him” I stifle my grin. “Him?” he asks, concerned. I hum “Some ‘Wild-men’ harassed me and the owner's daughter, nothing I couldn’t handle though, you should’ve see them” I smile at him. He furrows his brows and nods in thought. “Let me look at your head” I tilt my head down in compliance, picking at my socks in boredom. 

Thorin however, has come across an issue, touching your hair would be inappropriate given the nature of your relationship, but also given the obvious blooming affections his nephew has for you. And the apparent reciprocation of that interest by the mutual sharing of food. Thorin hesitantly lifts a section of hair, trying not to touch it as much as possible, and inspects the small bruise underneath. He continues to poke around the area, trying to get it done quickly.

“It seems you’ve gotten lucky this time” He states before rising from my bed “Next time you should take an escort however”. I look at him annoyed. “Luck has nothing to do with it, I’m just good at what I do” I praise myself, laying my head down on the squishy bed, and staring up at the ceiling. “And what is it that you do?” he asks inquisitively. I think about my wording before answering “I’ve trained in multiple forms of self-defense and hand-to-hand combat” I can hear him hum in approval “Good, we should still train you to use a proper weapon however, sword and bow” I yawn loudly “Yeah probably, but I think that’s tomorrow's issue aye” “Aye” he replies. I turn over and snuggle into the soft bed and scratchy blanket “Good night Thorin” “Good night” he mumbles back. I smiled to myself, ‘Perhaps he isn’t as big of a grumpy ass I thought he was’ I think to myself as I drift off into a deep slumber.

Master List Pt.3 - Pt.4 - Pt.5

[nvrcmplt]

Leave it to the all-knowing eyes of the fortress to keep an additional eye on the one who finds himself frequenting the fortress. Not quite an exile, not quite a lawful citizen; an in-betweener, there one moment and then off the next, finding himself some new trouble to get into before the urge for a bed and a hot meal resurfaces. To waste warm water on someone who'll be gone the next day, surely financial matters solve themselves under the agreement (or rather, deal) struck with the cafeteria ; all you can eat, for produce had been delivered a little too close to their expiration date, in desperate need to be eaten.

All ears, except his.

Lukewarm water sounded through the public showers, light steam covering the metallic room around them ; daily routines matching up, the warden finding it in him to approach the other quietly, attentively as he allows silvery eyes to trail Einri's bare legs and back, head canting curiously as eyes admire him form a distance. A surge of warmth, heart fluttering. It hasn't been like this in a long time, this griping desire - lust, was it not ? - that coaxed him closer, closer... close enough to slide a hand around Einri's waist, fingers trailing the other's bare stomach. They have been here before, felt their bodies up against each other. The only difference is the nudity, skin against skin, as Wriothesley pulled Einri a little further back.

Fully against his front.

Close enough for their bodies to connect once more; " ... you don't usually shower at this hour, I do," he jokes, knowing fully well that his own schedule does not include showering at this hour. He does it earlier, right before anyone finds it in them wash up before dinner. Now, however, most are devouring their fair share of food (the warden's lips parting slightly as gaze trail down bare shoulder) and he is basking in a moment most often left to imagination, the seething demand in his body quenched slightly at the sensation of Einri's skin against his.

Is this what he has robbed himself of for so long? The feeling of someone's curves and lines beneath his touch, scent of person and water mixed; "... I don't want to do anything," Wriothesley added in a whisper, head leaning down to the side of Einri's neck, water splashing against his face. Parted lips trail against wet skin, placing subtle pecks as they trace the outline of the other's throat.

"I just want to hold you."

A moments' peace, without needing to be smirking into the eyes of those that look for a little too long for normal glances. Public showering wasn't new, it wasn't scary nor peaceful in the same breath. It was just a place to be here, and it was within good reason. From what Einri's heard of some of these looneys with minds gone from everlasting traumas and the likes, it was like they cared little for their own safety. To have no walls, meant no hidden spots, no attack zones, no defence against the guards and the Duke that followed them. Einri wasn't a fool to think they were without eyes on them everywhere, probably even some of the jailed souls were in plants. Nothing gave better results than living in the same ways as those with loose lips.

Hands cup the warm waters with grace, bring it to his face to smear up the length of his hair and pushed it back over his crown. The sensation was the best - he felt ten times cleaner than the recent colder showers he's had with watchful eyes and hands too close for his liking, but this - divine. A private rebirthing in his eyes… Though, short-lived. Of course - the metal creaked around them, pipes working hard but not hard enough to dull the sound of a tall figure approaching him from behind. A sensation that should cause him to draw dagger and bow but instead - naked and weaponless, he remains still. Allowing his arms to slowly lower from brushing his hair back to settle at his thighs.

A strangeness - because he knew this sensation wasn't to harm him. Crazy - he wasn't that dull in his senses of danger but even in this state. It was a familiar set of eyes on him, wasn't it? A trust in his gut, a wonder to his curiosity and it was answered with so much ease. After all - he was expecting gloves, sleeves and fur on his shoulders, but this made his lashes flutter wider. Staring upon the floor of gathered water and the sensation of wet flesh upon flesh. Was this Duke --- !! Oh… wow. This was rather fast, wasn't it? He knew the Duke liked to try things with him, forbidden touches of a Duke and a Criminal in their watch but this - this was new.

Amusing though as he moved his arms out of their needy trails. Nude now, confidence did flicker, confusion and mirth mixed as the bird-eyed being hummed into the steam and allowed his weight to be guided. Why should he deny this? Might get something out of it? Or was it just his own interest - the way this man held him was like a jade, precious and curious of its dips and curves. Like he was mapping out the erosion of time and place with his fingertips and now, inhaling the scent of his body - muted he knew the honey was, the sandalwood of his hair would be thicker, his lips part in their own right, but words don't slip out this time.

Beaten to the punch.

Didn't want to do anything? --- And yet, this was possibly one of the most intimate things a man can do with another man in the nude. The light touches to his skin, ink shimmering wet and gold hinted black, the run of goosebumps from Wriothesley's breath, wet hair darker in the corner of his eye, but it was alluring all the same. Did those ear like flicks stay down when drenched? Did he smell of ink and paperwork right now? Or was this a second shower he had outside his usual schedule? Einri wasn't dumb to know a lie or at least a half-truth from the Duke, but this was not the same bubble as usual. This held a little more spice to one's knowledge.

Enlightened he is though - moving with grace to now rest his fingers on Wriothesley's wrist. Trailing up his forearm and guiding his second hand further up his torso - a silent encouragement as his lips curve and head tilts with invitation for this steel eyed hound to explore all he wishes. "Then don't hold back, Duke." His hands pull aside, moving to raise on to that of their hair instead, pushing it back to rid of the trails down their forehead and near the eyes. Blocking the flow to allow Wriothesley the freedom, but not without guidance, as Einri did soon grip those strands a little tighter, tugging the hound up his neck, closer to his ear.

"Kiss here… and feel the reaction in my pulse with your lips." A tutor for a Duke of curious wants and needs… The praise on his tongue bitten silent as he releases their locks to instead return to his caged ribs under their grip. This... was stepping into places he had no control over any more, wasn't it? How thrilling.

[divine-mistake]

it's messy inside, let me take your coat

Summary: “I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”

Characters: Bucky Barnes/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut, female nudity), strong language, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of fluff, soft and nervous Bucky Barnes, original female character friends, one-night stand, body insecurity, anxiety

Word Count: 8723

A/N: This story was written for @eurynome827 and her 2k follower challenge with the prompt "Mimosas and Bloody Marys at brunch." Thank you for hosting and congrats again on your milestone!

main masterlist | AO3

“Cheers!”

The flutes clink together, orange juice sloshing and spilling and dripping down the glasses and onto the table as your giggles fade into the background noise of the café’s patio. You tip your head back as you drink, mimosas bubbly in your throat like your own happiness, threatening to pour out of you and dribble onto your shirt, already tipsy.

“God,” Carissa says, throwing herself back into the metal chair, “I cannot wait to have his babies.”

Beside her, Kora claps. “I can’t wait to be an aunt! I’m going to spoil them all so rotten you’re going to want to throttle me by the end of it.”

“Spoil them all you want, I’m having eight of ‘em.”

At that, you go ahead and polish off your drink, carbonation stinging your throat, and while you set the empty glass down your hand goes up in the air, signaling the waiter for another.

Sara points at you. “I’m with her.” She makes a face at Carissa. “If you have eight kids I will make like your dad and bounce.”

Kora slaps her on the knee but the four of you descend into laughter anyway, and it’s easy and light and beautiful, like always. Washington D.C. can be pretty in this way—iron-wrought fencing and fancy metal tables and red patio tiling. Good food, better mimosas, best friends. There’s a breeze in the air that’s calling for autumn, scattering cloth napkins sitting in laps and spreading the scent of fresh baked bread.

The bags at your feet carrying your new shoes for the winter wedding that’s approaching rustle. That feeling isn’t just D.C. It’s excitement and love and adoration, too.

Carissa, bride to be, catches you in her gaze. “When are you going to finally settle down, huh?” She gestures across the table at you with her half-filled mimosa. Everyone else looks at you too, waiting for your response.

You shrug. “You’re having plenty of babies, I don’t need any.”

“I don’t mean babies,” she says. “I mean a human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment.”

“You need—no, you deserve—someone to take care of you!” Kora adds. “You’re always taking care of everyone. Don’t you want someone to, y’know, take care of you?”

“I have plenty of vibrators in my empty apartment.”

Sara snorts, covering her mouth. The waiter delivers another round, thank god.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask, sighing. “You’re just bothering me ‘cause it’s wedding season and you want to set me up with your weird—”

“He’s not weird,” Carissa interrupts. “He’s tall and he’s mysterious which is exactly your type.”

“She’ll find someone when the time is right,” Sara says. “Just ‘cause we’re happy with our boyfriends doesn’t mean she needs one to be happy.”

“Thank you, Sara, my one-true-best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world.” You force your glass against hers in a loud clank, turning the heads of all the patrons on the café’s patio before taking a gulp. Your face is already getting a little hot, the alcohol hitting you. This is why you aren’t allowed to pregame before you go to brunch anymore.

“We’re not trying to force you,” Kora starts, but her mouth is pulled into a concerned frown. “We really do just want you to be as happy as we are, that’s all.”

You smile at her. “I know.”

And you do know. You understand. It’s been years now since you’ve had anything real—anything worthwhile, to be specific. At some point, the relationships slowed down. Boyfriends became friends with benefits when you were working on your masters. Friends with benefits became ignored booty calls at two in the morning when you started your dissertation, on the road to get your doctorate. Now, you’re lucky to go home with someone from the bar, and they never, ever, come home with you.

It’s okay. You aren’t lonely. The right person just hasn’t landed in your lap, and maybe that’s kind of because it’s not open, but it’s just ‘cause you’re busy. You’re busy. Passionate. Need to change the world.

Love can wait.

The next mimosa is finished and you’re feeling a little fuzzy.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell Carissa. “I’m happy for all of you, and I’m happy with my life, and I’m happy that we’re all together and we’re celebrating and I’m happy that you all care about me enough to worry but I’m perfectly fine with how things are.”

Carissa smiles, but it’s got too much teeth. “I could set you up with Kie—”

“No, no setting me up with Kieran or Harry or Josh or anyone. But especially not Kieran.”

You’d already fucked him once and it wasn’t worth the experience.

“Fine! Fine.” Carissa busies herself with her drink. “No setting you up with Kieran.”

“Good. Now let’s talk about the reception!” You pull out your phone and open the planning spreadsheet, smiling. “So I called the venue for you about the tables…”

This is easier. Planning Carissa’s wedding, helping support her, being excited for her—that’s easier than talking about your love life. If anything, this is your love life. Taking care of the people you love, your best friends, having fun and being together and romanticizing the time you spend with them. It’s not just mimosas over brunch and a green spreadsheet for wedding planning. With them, it’s the wind in your hair and the sun making your eyes sparkle and the alcohol making all your insides feel effervescent.

It’s love. It’s perfection. It’s your own brand of happiness.

And sure, maybe it’s a little defensive, but this is easier than loving someone and trying to make them love you. It’s easier.

“Whose dress are we still waiting on?” Carissa asks a little later, mouth full of avocado and bacon and looking very un-bridely.

“Mine,” Kora says, a little guiltily. “It’s at the tailor getting taken in—again.”

“I have mine,” you pipe up, wiping your mouth of jam. “And god, do I look like a full course Michelin star meal in that piece. Like, we’re talking ass for days, legs for days, tits for—”

“Excuse me, ma’am, excuse me.” A man, towering over the café table makes himself known, dressed in dark clothes and wearing a look on his visage that you can’t name.

“—days,” you finish, swallowing hard.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says with a smile, “but I’m raising money for uh, breast cancer awareness, and I was hoping you would donate and sign up for uh, a marathon we’re doing.”

You blink. “Sorry,” you tell him, “but we don’t carry cash on us.” With a small smile, you nod at him, your eyes passing over your friends and looking around the café to see if any of the other patrons have noticed what’s going on. None of them look bothered.

“Not even for breast cancer awareness? C’mon, girl.”

“We don’t carry cash,” Sara repeats with a deadpan, but her eyes don’t meet his.

He doesn’t look at her either, content to stare at you, and your skin crawls.

“What about signing up for the marathon?”

“Fine,” you snap. Anything to get him to leave you all alone. “How do I sign up?”

“You give me your phone number and I’ll text you the details.” His grin is a little wider now, edging a little closer to where you sit at the table. You’re regretting that third mimosa. You aren’t on your game. The panic running through you is covered in a champagne haze.

You scoff. “No way.” Immediately you grab your purse, digging through it, and you slam a handful of loose change onto the table in front of him. “Here—a donation. Now please leave.”

His face twists into a scowl, but he scoops the money off the table and pockets it.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he suddenly says, and anger courses through you until you shoot up from your seat, chair skidding behind you. He’s tall—much taller than your short stature. But, fuck it, the alcohol’s dimming the fear and fueling the need for you to protect your friends.

When you glance over, Carissa is already gathering the bags, eyes wide. Kora has her arms wrapped around her middle, trying to make herself smaller, ready to run. Sara’s phone is in her hand, 9-1-1 already dialed.

And still, no one in the café is doing a goddamn thing.

“Excuse me?” You glare up at the man.

“I just wanted your number, you fat bitch.” He sneers. “No wonder you’ve got an attitude, you obviously don’t get laid.”

Really, you can sit there and say it isn’t the fat comment. It’s not the insult. You’re used to that, with your overly-generous curves and your soft jawline and the fact that you’re wearing a skirt showing off the cellulite running through your thighs like a creek and a crop top that lets everyone peek at your stretch marks. You’re used to it.

And, really, you could handle this better. You certainly have before ‘cause this isn’t the first time you’ve been hustled or the first time some creep has hit on you. Old men have been slapping your ass in public since you were sixteen. You’re hot, you get it. If you saw yourself on the street you’d want a piece of your own goddamn ass, too. It comes with the territory, but it’s gross. And it’s sad but you’re used to it. So it’s not him calling you a fat bitch.

It’s the comment about getting laid. It’s sore as fuck.

You grab your would-be fourth mimosa and drench him in it, the glass slipping from your fingers and shattering upon the patio’s tiled floor in an instant.

“Slut!” The man lunges for you and you jump away, bumping into the table and losing your footing. You fall to the ground as glass comes crashing down around you, spilling sweet-smelling alcohol all over you. Ouch. Your friends scream, but you can’t take your eyes off him.

And then a gleam of black and gold blurs past you and grabs the creep by his neck, throwing him down. Now, a tall, wide body dressed in a dark hoodie is blocking you, guarding you, sheltering you.

“Try it,” Mystery Savior says.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Carissa chants, calling your name.

Your hand is sticky when you wave her away. “Get out of here, I’m fine. Just go. I’ll meet you—meet you at Kora’s.”

“We’re not leaving you!” Sara shouts, but something, maybe adrenaline or fear or fucking champagne, is running through your blood vessels at high speed.

“Just go!” you scream back at her. “I’m not fucking kidding, go!”

Because if there is one redeemable thing about you, it’s the length you’ll go to keep the people you love safe. And Mystery Savior might have just choked a creep out for you, but he also choked a creep out for you, and that’s enough to get your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t know who the good guy is—if there even is a good guy here.

“Fuck,” the creep curses, but it comes out raspy as he grasps at his quickly bruising neck. “You’re a—” he wheezes, “—you’re a murderer!”

Mystery Savior holds up his hands, and that’s when you see it. The black and gold of a vibranium arm just peeking out of the sleeve of his hoodie.

This isn’t a murderer. Not a Mystery Savior either. This is James Bucky Barnes, the Avenger, holy shit. Definitely good guy. Probably. He’s reformed, the news talks about it.

“Caught me,” he says, voice monotone. “What are you gonna do about it?”

If you weren’t currently sprawled on the ground, covered in mimosa, and panicking wildly about whatever is unfolding right in front of you, the very buzzed part of your brain would really appreciate the smoothness of Bucky’s voice when he said that, the cool, calm, collected delivery.

You’ll file it in the back of your mind for when you go back to your empty apartment.

“That fat ass ain’t worth it,” the creep chokes out, scrambling to get up. As soon as he’s on his feet, poised to take off, Bucky moves faster than you could have imagined and grabs the guy by his shirt.

“I don’t think so, buddy.” You can’t see his face, but you think Bucky might be smiling.

A portly man, a little shorter than Bucky, pushes through the gathering crowd, eyes wide and panicked, face red, already sweating. When you glance at his golden nametag, it reads: Jason, Manager. Cool that the manager showed up this late. If Bucky hadn’t stepped in, you’d probably be in a pile of limbs on the ground by now. Also—is he going to comp your bill? ‘Cause at this point, you’re starting to think you deserve it.

Okay, not a good time to be distracted.

“Thank you for getting him, sir,” the manager says, a little breathless. “Winter Soldier, sir.”

“It’s Bucky,” he says, and then he shoves the creep toward the manager. “Not sure why you didn’t step in before he got violent.”

Exactly! Why did everyone just stand around and do nothing as some six-foot man hustled the four women sitting beside the street? You glance around again, seeing your friends have disappeared and now, both the wait staff and other café patrons, are crowded around your table. It’s a little unsettling how no one cared to even look at you until everything escalated.

As the manager grabs the creep and hauls him off toward the street to wait for the cops, Bucky Barnes relaxes his shoulders and turns toward you slowly, and it’s—well, for lack of a better word—it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

He looks nothing like the superhero in the pictures. Here, with the D.C. sun hitting him unabashedly, his slate eyes like glass marbles, the lines surrounding them wrinkled in concern, his tongue darting between his lips to wet the skin where his teeth bite down, a habitual sore, his short locks ruffled by the breeze or maybe the fight or maybe he just wakes up perfectly rumpled, here he looks like a man.

“You okay?” he asks, somehow nonchalant and still worried, and he holds out a calloused hand to you.

Or, well, maybe Bucky had been watching. And maybe that’s enough.

God, you don’t even know this man outside of his Avenger persona, the headlines you read on the news, the pictures you see on social media, but there’s just something about him that makes you want to trust him. Like he guarantees safety, and you know that no one, least of all an Avenger, can guarantee safety. Even if that’s their job.

Stop feeling safe around him.

But you take his hand anyway, his long, thick fingers folding over your own like he means to swallow them, and Bucky pulls you up as though you weigh nothing. In fact, he does it so easily that you crash straight into him with a yelp and his arms instantly slide around your waist to catch you as your knees go weak, buckling beneath you.

When you look up at him, your hands trying to find purchase in the material of his hoodie, he’s staring down at you with the hint of a smile.

“Thanks,” you say, quiet and a little stunned.

His lips crack a little wider. “No problem.”

For a few seconds longer than deemed socially appropriate, you stare at Bucky, captured by the changing color of his blue-gray eyes. And then, as if god is slapping you on the back of your head, you blink and remember that you are covered in alcohol and currently pressed against the chest of a superhero, and your eyes go wide as you quickly push away from him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you tell him. “I’m disgusting—you probably have orange juice all over you now, fuck.”

“Hey,” he says, his flesh hand wrapping around your upper arm to steady you, “it’s okay. Seriously though, are you alright?”

You open your mouth to say something and then shut it again when you realize nothing sounds like the right answer. Bucky waits patiently though, peering down at you, his grip a little more grounding than you wish it was.

“Yes?” you say, but it sounds like a question. “I mean, maybe? I’m—It’s not like I’m not used to this happening. I’ll be fine.”

Bucky frowns. “Used to it?”

You shrug. “Not all men are superheroes. Most don’t have good intentions. And I’m not even that pretty, can you imagine what other women deal with?”

It slips out before you realize it, the self-hatred you keep at bay.

“Not pretty?” Bucky’s face twists into something confused. “That guy assaulted you just to get your number. I’m not saying it’s right, but if you think you aren’t pretty, well that’s just wrong.”

Oh god, what are you supposed to say now? So stupid. If you had just kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have forced an Avenger—a really fucking hot Avenger—to give you an awkward compliment and now you have to scramble to figure out what to say. If you deny the compliment, you’ll look ungrateful. If you accept the compliment, that’s too egotistical. Too into yourself.

You’ve backed yourself into a corner here, and Bucky’s on the other side of the ring.

“Look,” he interrupts your inner monologuing, running a hand through his hair and glancing away, “if you don’t mind me saying it, you’re—well—you’re gorgeous. I hope you know that.”

Your mouth falls open and you stare at him, nervous energy radiating off him, and when his eyes shift back to yours he coughs.

“I mean, don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not—I’m not trying to hit on you after what just happened, I promise.” His eyes go wide, then, and he throws his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. “That’s not to say I’m not! Not hitting on you. I mean, shit, I just think you’ve gotta be the most beautiful dame—woman, sorry—that I’ve seen in years.”

There’s something soft about it, something sweetly suffocating, like buttercream frosting in the back of your throat, about his nervousness. The gentle panic, the way his eyes go back and forth from the ground at your feet to your eyes like he’s checking to make sure he hasn’t said the wrong thing, but he just keeps putting his foot in his mouth like it’s a magnet to metal. It’s endearing. It’s real.

“Do you want to get a drink with me?” you blurt out, and Bucky blanches. “I know it’s only, like, noon but I need a drink. And I owe you. For saving me.”

He relaxes at this, another one of those small smiles easing its way onto his face, and his shoves his hands into his pockets like he wasn’t just panicking two seconds ago about calling you a dame, which if anyone else had done, you would have socked them in the mouth, but he’s like one-hundred-and-six or something and you kinda get it.

“The drinks you’re wearing ain’t enough, doll?”

A laugh breaks from your mouth and he lights up, grinning.

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be?” You can’t help the smile splitting your own lips. “Sure, make fun of the girl who just got hustled, easy prey.”

The way he looks at you is burning.

“I’m Bucky,” he says. “James Bucky Barnes.”

“I know,” you say with a laugh. When you give him your name, he almost looks like he wants to try it out, but he keeps it on his tongue like he’s tasting it instead.

“So, a drink?” he asks, a little cautiously.

“I’d like that.” Then, you look down and curse. “But I’m gross. I really need to go home and change.”

Bucky nods, but a look of disappointment crosses his face, there and then gone again, just enough to make your heart tighten into a painful brick weight atop your chest. Everything in your brain is saying no, don’t do it, don’t do it. But your heart hurts and it hurts for him, a man you’ve only met in news articles and awkward interviews until now, when he’s saved you from being slapped around by some creep or worse, and god, you have such a soft heart sometimes and it’s gotten you in trouble before but you can’t just ignore it.

“Do you like Bloody Marys?”

His eyes meet yours again and you’re drawn into the storm that swirls in his irises once again.

“Never had one,” he admits. “They don’t look much like a drink.”

“Well, if you’re interested, I have the stuff to make a really good one at home. And then I could change and clean up a little and still y’know, thank you for saving my life? I mean it’s not much, but—”

“Yes,” he says, his voice as sure and steady as it was earlier when he was in hero mode. “That sounds great.”

Oh, you’re fucked. You’re so fucked.

The walk back to your apartment isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not easy. Bucky walks beside you like a forcefield, using his body to guide you through the throng of people walking along the streets without even touching you. He reminds you of a sheepdog. The thought almost makes you laugh more than a few times during your stroll.

He walks with his hands in his pockets most of the way, especially his metal one. And he isn’t much of a talker, not that you mind as long as he keeps answering the questions you’re asking him, like what kind of food he likes and what he thinks about sphynx cats and if he likes memes—of which his answers consist of anything, what the hell is that and why is it naked, and a resounding yes.

Bucky asks some of his own questions, though they are few and far between and a lot more cohesive and meaningful than your own. He asks about how long you’ve lived in Washington D.C., about what you do for a living, and about your friends.

“Why did they leave you there?” He’s staring at you when he asks, brows sharp and furrowed.

“Because I told them to,” you answer. “I didn’t want them to get hurt or anything. And I’m kind of the person that if I’m yelling, you better listen ‘cause I’m usually yelling for a good reason.”

He nods like he understands, but his lips are pressed flat. “They shouldn’t have left you.”

You shrug. “I wanted them to. I would’ve been more pissed if they hadn’t run off and gotten tangled up in the middle of everything.”

“You’re a good person,” he says, still looking at you. His face is softer, that hint of a curve in his mouth the only sign that anything’s changed.

You give him your own smile. “Maybe.”

It’s only once you get to the front door of your apartment that things shift and your stomach rolls, heavy and fluttering light all at once, a not-so-familiar-anymore anxiety chilling your skin. The keys in your hand jingle and you aren’t sure if it's because your fingers are shaking or not.

“It’s not much,” you say, beckoning him inside, “but y’know, it’s enough for me.”

Bucky steps through the door with a reverence, a caution, a carefulness that strikes you right in the heart. He looks out of place for a minute, like he’s never entered an apartment before. And then, as you kick off your shoes, losing the extra inch of height, smiling and gesturing for him to do the same, there’s something in him that snaps and bends and his shoulders fall, relaxed.

He toes off his boots, leaving them by the door, and suddenly there’s a different air in the apartment. Almost intimate. Comfortable.

Stop it. You don’t even know him.

“Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? A glass of water or something?”

Bucky shakes his head as he follows behind you, slowly, his eyes roaming over your space. It’s really not much, you know that. A little more than a box with a bathroom and a bedroom attached, what with the living room and the kitchen being “open-concept,” a word you’re pretty sure was invented to sell tiny apartments for more money. You don’t even have a table to sit at—just a couch to plunk down on while you’re eating.

“I’m alright, doll,” he says, running a hand over the soft cushions of said couch. “You go change, I’m fine.”

As soon as you disappear into your bedroom, the door locked behind you, you lean against the wood and let out a sigh. This is awkward. What the fuck were you thinking? Asking an Avenger—Bucky Barnes—back to your apartment for a drink? A bloody mary? Who are you trying to kid?

It’s been years, literal years since you’ve invited anyone back to your apartment. In fact, you don’t think anyone besides your friends has even stepped foot inside. Maybe they haven’t even made it to the door.

Why would you invite him here?

In frustration, you strip your dirty shirt off and throw it onto the floor, shimmy-ing out of your skirt and kicking it toward the hamper just as well. You sort through your drawers, looking for something comfortable to throw on. Or maybe you should wear something nice? Something that looks similar to what you wore to brunch. But Bucky’s dressed in jeans and a hoodie. But he also looks like a modern god in just that.

Fuck. You are fucked. Why did you ask him back to your place for a drink? What did you think would happen?

You throw an old band t-shirt over your head and pull a black pair of loose shorts up over your hips, cursing when you realize they don’t even hit mid-thigh. Does that seem suggestive? Is Bucky going to think you want to fuck him if you walk out in these?

Do you want to fuck Bucky?

No. No. This is not what this is about. You invited him over because you owed him a drink and because you needed to change and because he seemed so damn sad when you said you couldn’t go out for a drink. So you asked him to come home with you. Oh, god, that’s so complicated. What have you gotten yourself into?

Stop. Just stop thinking.

But—you have to admit it to yourself—you want it. You want him.

Your friends’ earlier words repeat in your head. A human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment. They aren’t wrong for thinking that it’s something you want. For most of your life, you’ve lived thinking that you shouldn’t need someone. But isn’t it okay to want someone? You’re tired of being alone. Bucky Barnes is the first man that’s been in your empty apartment since you moved in, and maybe it’s a bold move, but you know what?

You throw yourself out of your bedroom, probably looking a little too frazzled, and you quickly comb your fingers through your hair as nonchalantly as possible to fix the flyaways. Bucky’s sitting on your couch, looking lonely, his hands rigid on his spread knees.

He looks like he fits there, on your sofa, in your empty apartment.

“Look,” you say in a breath, catching his attention. When he looks at you, his eyes sweep over your body like he’s never seen a woman before; shy, timid, a little nervous, but there’s something else there. It’s the same thing that’s heating your insides right now.

“I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”

Bucky’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then a cocky grin is curling his lips up, his face brightening the entire apartment. You don’t know if your body is warm because you’re embarrassed at your own daring or because Bucky Barnes is so beautiful it’s criminal, but you know that there’s static and stretch in your limbs and desire pooling in your belly. Liquor and lust are chasing away whatever fears you had before.

“Really?” he asks, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that reminds you of what a fucking flirt he is, or that he can be, and you think butterflies might be taking up residence in your tummy.

“Really,” you mimic, wearing your own charmed smile. Bucky lets his head fall to the side as he looks over you, then crooks one metal finger at you, beckoning you to join him on the couch. With as much confidence as you can muster, you stride toward him, putting a little swing in your steps. Maybe you look crazy doing it, but it’s enough that his eyes flicker down to watch your hips, and it sends a thrill through you.

“This isn’t like me,” you tell him as you sink down beside him, as close as possible while still giving him space to bolt if he needs to. “I don’t invite strangers over to my house like this.”

He smiles and it’s warm and big and easy. “I’m glad you did,” he says.

God, his eyes are pretty. “Me too.”

With Bucky’s thigh pressed against yours, his hand resting dangerously close to one of your bare knees, knuckles brushing your skin every time he shifts, you’re melting into his touch and you don’t care. It’s intoxicating—not the alcohol, which you swear should be wearing off by now, but him.

“I don’t do this often,” you say again, like you need to defend your bold behavior.

“Does that mean I’m special?”

“I think so,” you murmur, only loud enough for him to hear being this close.

Kinder than you thought possible, somehow simultaneously suave but still a little nervous, and yet authentic to a fault, Bucky Barnes is a thousand and one contradictions. Nothing like you ever thought he’d be. And maybe that’s what gives you the courage, the thought that someone so hardened could be so soft. That someone who looks like him, chiseled and striking and like a charcoal sketching on stark paper, could turn red at your innuendos and your charmed quips. That there’s a chance he could be attracted to you.

This—This is the connection you’ve been waiting for. The person who makes you feel like this. Tipsy when you shouldn’t be tipsy anymore.

“I know we barely know each other, but I really, really want you, Bucky.”

Your shoulder is pressed to his shoulder, your chest nearing his chest, your chin tipped up to stare at his eyes, his nose, his parted lips. Bucky stares down at you, his Adam’s apple dipping and bobbing as he swallows hard. Your lips curl, threatening to giggle. He’s so damn cute. How can someone like him, an Avenger, a super soldier, look so cute?

But the hand at your knee finally creeps up your skin, his hot palm glossing over your bare thigh, resting a little higher than a friendly touch would go. He presses indents—not too hard, but not too soft—into your plush, silken flesh.

“You do?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lip and you want to follow it back into his mouth with your own.

To answer, you push closer, your hand coming up to drape across his neck, a little off-balance as you sit up on your knees.

“Mhm,” you hum, and that’s all he needs to grasp your thigh roughly and drag you over him, seating you upon his lap as a squeak of surprise flies from your lips. His hands fall to your hips as if your body was made for him to hold and suddenly you’re looking down at him and he’s looking up at you instead, and god, he’s staring at you like you’re heaven and earth and everything he ever needed to be saved.

“I want you too,” he says, exhaling as if you’ve stolen all the air in his lungs.

“Then will you finally kiss me?” Your nose brushes his and his breath ghosts over your mouth.

Bucky’s lips surge up to meet yours, swallowing the last sounds of your words like it’s the first drink of water he’s had in years, cool and refreshing and tinged with smoke, something uniquely him.

As your hands thread through his short locks, desperate to hold onto him in any way, his fingers begin to curve over your ass. You rock into him, pressing against him harder, sucking at his plush lips as his tongue skims over your top lip until you grant him entry. Bucky kisses like he’s trying to taste every single part of you and it sends waves of pleasure through your belly and to your core, where you grind down until you feel his hardening length beneath you.

Immediately, you start to strip him of his hoodie, divesting him of that layer to feel the soft shirt beneath—but only barely because it’s hell trying to pull his hands away from where they’re touching you.

And he’s touching you everywhere. His fingers roam over every generous piece of your body. The silken planes of your thighs where he’s pushed your shorts up, the wide canyons of your hips, the bumpy hills of your waist where your stomach is too big and too soft and where he slips his mismatched hands under your shirt to trace the lines of your stretch marks. It isn’t long until he brushes by the band of your bra and then he’s tugging at the hem of the shirt, pulling away from your lips long enough to rid you of it.

You take the moment to rid him of his too, and then you’re both topless, still sitting atop his lap and panting from lack of air. No words are shared between you before Bucky is capturing your mouth again. It’s only passion, frenzied and hot and wanting.

His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra blindly as your teeth sink into his bottom lip, nipping and giggling and tangling your tongue around his. As soon as you hear the snap, you lean back and Bucky pulls it off you, flinging the offending garment somewhere else in the apartment.

Now, with your naked chest completely bared to him, you wait for it to happen. For his eyes to dart away, for the apprehension to cross his features, for the disgust to set it. The real reason that it’s been so long since you’ve invited someone into your empty apartment—into your empty life.

You’re scared.

Like you’re expecting the blow, you close your eyes and brace yourself, but you don’t cover up. You’ve learned not to cover up. You refuse to make yourself smaller, or prettier, or more tolerable for people. It’s why you don’t get entangled with one-night stands anymore, why you don’t ask strangers to come home with you, why you don’t let your girlfriends set you up with anyone. Because you refuse to make yourself something you’re not just to fit in, and that’s what always, always ends up happening.

Bucky touches you and it makes you flinch, his vibranium fingers a little chilly against the soft, warm skin of your stomach. He touches you and it’s electric, but you don’t open your eyes.

You’re too afraid to look and see the disappointment in his gorgeous blues.

His hands skim over your rib cage, sliding around the sides of your waist, his thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts. You shiver at the contact. He continues his trail upwards, but then he lays his palms on your shoulders and caresses over your neck, his fingers finally finding the edge of your soft jaw to cradle your face. A shaky breath leaves you.

“Look at me,” he whispers, closer than you thought.

And no matter how much you’ll berate yourself over it later, there is something so safe about Bucky Barnes that your lashes flutter and your eyes open, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, staring at you with those stormy sea eyes half-lidded and glazed over with lust, his pink lips parted in awe, and you gasp at the intensity that strikes right through the center of you.

“You’re…” he trails off, swallowing nervously again. “Doll, I don’t think I know a word in English that describes you.”

Bucky presses forward, his chest brushing against your hardened nipples, stealing your breath and then sealing your lips with a kiss that isn’t like before. This kiss isn’t needy or wanting or filled with teeth and tongue and desperation. This time, his mouth moves with yours as if he’s trying to spell out a thousand words in twenty different languages to tell you how he feels, his lips leading yours in a dance that isn’t worried about an audience or the music or if you step on his toes.

When he pulls away, you wonder if your mouth is as swollen as his.

“You’re perfect,” he says with a finality in his tone that almost makes you collapse into his arms.

Then, Bucky wastes no time and captures a nipple in between those swollen lips, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud noise in surprise. His metal hand finds your other breast, thumb stroking over the bud until you’re arching further into him. As his tongue traces patterns around one nipple, his fingers tweak and twist and pull its sister, and your hands grasp his broad shoulders in an attempt to hold on.

Finally, he presses gentle kisses over your rosy buds, all worn out by his touches, and then circles your breasts with more kitten licks and grazes of his teeth. Bucky’s hands settle at your hips again, fingers grasping your skin like he can’t get enough of the feel of you. He’s trying to imprint your body on his palms.

“I need to have you, doll,” he says all breathy as if he isn’t the one absolutely drenched right now. “Please. Please,” he asks so softly that you wonder if this is the man who even came to your rescue today, all tall and brooding. When you grind down on his lap again, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans as he lets out a groan and tightens his grip on your waist, you realize you’re not the only one feeling the tension.

Still, there’s something cheeky left in you and you reach out to swipe your finger across his nose, effectively booping it cutely. A grin splits your lips.

“You need me?” you ask teasingly. “What if I need you instead?”

It’s like it sets something ablaze in him or something, ‘cause as soon as you go in for another kiss, Bucky stands up from the couch, his hands cradling your ass as you shriek and wrap your legs around him in reflex.

“Oh my god—”

“Now you’ve done it,” he grunts, burying his face in your neck to pepper kisses all over the stretch of skin that encompasses your shoulder, your jawline, even up into your hairline by your ear.

“Oh my god, put me down Bucky, I’m—you’re gonna drop me, I’m too heavy!”

“Heavy?” He chuckles against your throat and the vibrations almost make you shudder in pleasure. God, what is this man doing to you? “Darlin’, I don’t think you know the meaning of heavy.”

Bucky flashes you a wide, almost predatory grin, and you wonder where that soft, nervous boy went.

“If I wanted to,” he says, his voice low and steady, “I could fuck you right here, in the middle of the room, for hours.” He must feel the shiver that goes through your entire body because he’s laughing again. “But I want to fuck you into your mattress if that’s okay. Can I do that?”

Your throat feels dry when you whisper, “Yes. Please.”

He punctuates your plea with a heated kiss to your lips, his tongue tasting the citrus and bubble from your mimosas, the alcohol long since worn off. It’s all him that you feel, all him that intoxicates you, and all him around you as he walks you into your bedroom, not even straining under your weight, and dumps you onto the middle of your sheets.

There, he cages you, hovering above you to kiss down your body, already intent on tearing your shorts off.

“Bucky,” you whine. In the afternoon light streaming through the single window in your room, his eyes are a startling color you wish you could name, all clear and confident and crystal and god, god, his fingers are already exploring the slit of your core so lightly it makes you flush and want to hide, your inner thighs sticky and coated in your own slick from how hot he’s made you with such simple touches.

“You want me?” he asks as if he doesn’t know.

“Yes,” you hiss in pleasure, body writhing beneath him. Bucky leans down to kiss the shell of your ear, his tongue blazing a hot trail that makes you moan and buck your hips up to meet his, but he won’t have any of that.

“Good,” he says, “‘cause I need to have you, and I don’t plan on letting you go ‘till I’ve gotten everything you’ve got to give, doll.”

That nervous Bucky, all awkward smiles and panicked glances and sweet lines, he’s gone. In his place is this Bucky, assured and charming and suave and smooth and making your eyes roll back into your head until a scream is threatening to burst from your lips unless he swallows it with his own kiss, which he does, over and over again.

“I’m gonna ravage you, darlin’.”

You aren’t sure which one you like better—but is it greedy to say both?

As the light of a new day spreads through your apartment, you awaken easily, softly, but painfully. Someone’s pulled the blankets up to your chin and tucked them around you, and the thought leaves an empty feeling inside of you. When you stretch, every part of you burns deliciously, a memory from the hours spent in bed, on the couch, on the fucking counter after you’d eaten and he still wasn’t satisfied, and then again in bed.

And now, looking over at the space beside you, he’s gone. His clothes are gone from the floor. There’s no sound echoing in the building. He even left you tucked in, for god’s sake.

Your apartment is just as it always has been—empty.

With a groan, you kick the covers off and plant your feet on the floor, willing yourself to get up. The ache in your muscles is nothing more than a pleasant memory, an unpleasant reminder of the marks he left on you, his absence.

Stop it. You shouldn’t have even gotten attached to him in the first place. You knew what this was, and he did too, and it’s no wonder he’s gone this morning.

Get over it.

You swipe an oversized shirt from your dresser and throw it over your head as you stride out toward the kitchen, content to go pantyless for the day after the abuse you put it through last night. Yawning, your eyes screwed shut in another big stretch to warm up your overused muscles, you hear him before you see him.

“Mornin’, doll.”

Like that, your eyes snap open and he’s there, standing in your tiny kitchen in nothing but last night’s boxers, looking fucking glorious in the spotlight of the warm sun that’s streaming through the room and highlighting the counters.

“Bucky?” you ask, but it’s a little loud and a little shrieking, something you don’t intend. But all he does is smile at you, metal fingers tapping the plastic countertop, so at ease he just looks like he belongs there.

“I thought I’d make you breakfast but you have nothing in your fridge,” he jokes, leaning back against the drawers and crossing his arms over his bare chest.

You shift, embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah, I need to go shopping.”

A long stretch of silence fills your apartment and you’re unsure of what to say in order to break it. Bucky’s clearly watching you, drinking in the sight of your love-marked body, bruises peeking out of the hem of your shirt that barely skims past the tops of your thighs, and you remember you’re wearing nothing underneath.

And he’s here, right here, and you really aren’t sure why. It seems the two of you have almost switched places. Where Bucky was nervous and shy at first, he’s now confident and comfortable and you’re left with heated cheeks and a tongue-tied in knots. Whatever boldness that came over you all yesterday has fled.

It’s left a deep pocket of insecurity inside of you.

“Why are you still here?” you ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, like you don’t care, but your voice shakes a little. He’s too far away to really tell, but you think a flash of hurt passes over Bucky’s brow.

“‘Cause you still owe me a drink,” he says as if it's obvious, a small smile still sitting so prettily on his mouth.

You blink, a little confused, but shuffle closer. “Bloody Mary?”

“Yeah,” he says with a deep breath, his grin growing bigger the closer that you come toward him. “Will you still make me one?”

You nod, toes finally crossing into the kitchen, and then you and Bucky are staring at each other. There are scratches left like the bones of a graveyard on his arms, and you’re almost sure if he turned around they’d cover his neck and back just as well. Seeing those reddened marks, similar to the bruises he’s left on you, makes you relax your shoulders just a little.

“Do you need help?” he asks, eyes sweeping over your barely covered form.

“No,” you say, heading to the kitchen which is little more than a countertop, a stove, and a fridge. “But you can keep me company.”

So this is what happens in the morning after. Bucky leans against the counter next to you, watching you with a burning intensity that nearly matches last night’s, and you pull all the ingredients out and line them up next to two glasses and try not to falter under his gaze. He looks at you like you’re this fascinating thing he needs to study and it bothers you, but only in the best of ways.

“Do you always stare this hard at your dates?” A smile plays at your lips as you crack open the tomato juice.

He doesn’t look away. “No,” he says, but he sounds unsure. “Is this a date, doll?” There’s something in his voice that you can’t figure out, faintly hopeful, fairly confused. Vaguely surprised, even.

You shrug. “Maybe.” Especially after all of yesterday, you would hope he thought so.

But Bucky shakes his head. “No.”

Ow.

That hurt more than you were expecting it to. Calling yourself his date had only been a joke meant to lighten the mood, ease him up a little, cure the tension swirling in the room. You guess you should have expected it, though. You owed him a drink—he didn’t owe you a date. It wasn’t supposed to be a date, anyway.

All you had done was sleep together, for fuck’s sake. This is why you hate morning afters. This is why you would have preferred it if he had been gone when you woke.

But was that even true? Because the relief you felt when you found him waiting for you in the kitchen was immense and hard to understand.

You open the bottle of vodka a little more forcefully than you intended.

“When we go out on a real date,” he continues, and your eyes meet, “I’ll be taking you out and treating you.” A slow grin crawls over his face that reminds you of his wicked mouth and what it can do and the sight makes your heart beat and beat and beat, faster and faster, like the wings of a hummingbird, quick quick quick.

“When?”

“When,” he affirms.

“That’s bold of you,” you say, popping ice cubes from a tray into the glasses.

“Maybe,” he says, “but I know what I want now.” Bucky shifts a little closer to you, his vibranium arm brushing by the bare skin of your soft one as you try and focus on not spilling the juice, but you can smell him and he smells like cedar and bergamot and smoke and clove. A smell that consumed you whole last night, surrounded you, drowned you in it.

He’s so close you can feel him inhale.

“I’ve lived a long time not knowing—not getting to decide—what I want,” he admits, his voice low and quiet and soothing your nervous heart. “So you can call it bold, but I call it right.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your hands still and you look up at him, eyes wide. In the soft white lights of your tiny kitchen, sharing the tight space with him so close, Bucky’s eyes are thunder and rain and lightning all at once, peace and chaos both, promising release and the sweet scent of earth and oil afterward.

“You don’t even know me,” you whisper.

Bucky leans closer. “But I want to.”

He’s so close, too close, close enough that he can surely hear the rhythm of your heart, unsteady and racing just for him. You could surge forward and kiss him, stake your claim once again on those pinkened lips that have held your attention from the first time you saw them, feel the stubble of his jaw rub against the soft peach fuzz of your own, let it remind you of how it felt against the apex of your thighs as he made you cry out over and over again, breaking on his tongue over and over again.

It makes you feel dizzier than any alcohol ever could.

But Bucky reaches over, past you, and takes one of the glasses from your hand, warm fingers brushing over your cooler ones. He holds it up, toward you, gesturing for a toast. With a swallow, hardly glancing away from his slate eyes to grab the other glass, you tap your Bloody Mary against his with a soft clink.

He watches you over the rim as he takes his first sip and you think he might be smirking. Then, he darts toward you and takes your lips in his own, tasting of spice and tomato juice and perfection, all Bucky, all for you.

When he pulls away, too quickly, he rests his forehead against your and looks down at you, staring into your hazy eyes.

“Will you let me stay?” he asks, like he doesn’t know what you’ll say. The soft, nervous Bucky is peeking out from behind his confident visage once again, his voice hopeful and frightened and the hand that’s gliding beneath your shirt and over your waist more timid than it was last night.

There’s a million things you can say. You can tell him to take you out to brunch instead. You can tell him you’re too busy. You can tell him that this was a one-night stand, it was only ever meant to be a one night stand, and that it was fun but you can’t afford to get attached to him and god, you know you’re going to get attached to him if he stays and that scares the ever-living fuck out of you. You can tell him that it’s messy here, inside your empty apartment, inside your empty heart. You can tell him that he could take up residence here. You can tell him so, so many things.

“Yes,” you say instead, and Bucky laughs against your mouth when he kisses you hard once more.

[celinolesunshine]

Eyes Colored Sun, Mouth Like The Moon

A SUN/MOON X GN! READER FANFIC

CHAPTER THREE: rewire

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4 || chap. 5

~~~~~~~~~~

'Bright like the sun', they said. That's when they decided to call you 'sunflower', because they couldn't read your nametag. He called you 'starlight', because of how you shone in his eyes.

It didn't take long to warm up to the dual persona of the daycare attendant, and somehow you found yourself.. drawn to them? You weren't sure, but you had the feeling you would be in it for the long haul.

It was only after months of working alongside them, however, you began to notice a change in Moon. he was... different. More distant, perhaps; and a shorter fuse to boot. They had you invested, and you were determined to figure out what was wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~

In which we meet Moon. He's a little more.. skeptical than we think.

rewire

--

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. You and Sun had fallen into a regular pattern over the course of your time in the daycare, where you and they had planned various crafts, games, and projects for the children when you arrived in the morning, followed by lunchtime (where you picked up after the mess of the early day), and then softplay games on the afternoon. Pickup came around two-fifteen, which lasted about forty-five minutes or so, including all of the I-don’t-want-to-go drama that ensued. 

Once you and Sun were alone, you would finish cleanup for the day together, and then lounge in the play area clearing, where you would clean (and stare at) Sun, who always seemed happy to share their time with you.

This particular evening, you sat between Sun’s legs, your back pressed up against their chestplate as the two of you rambled on about the adventures of the day. 

“I don’t know, little Mosie seemed pretty content sleeping there in that toy chest!”

Sun emitted their little equivalent of a laugh, their eyes gleaming happily as you angled your head upwards to look at Sun’s face. It looked funny from this angle, almost flat with the way that their faceplates were positioned. They didn’t really have much of a backing on their face, making one half of it vaguely dipped, like a semicircle, and then a metal plate that connected their head to a little bent pipe that functioned as a neck. 

“That does sound silly, little sunflower. I do wish that we could bring back nap-time soon, so that we can stay with the children all through the day.” Sun said, a gloomy look glossing over their features. 

You figured there had been a reason that the daycare was only open until two-thirty, but you had never really thought to ask why.

Luckily, this was as good a chance as any to figure it out, you figured. 

“Why don’t we have nap-time anymore? I mean, I’ve seen the area, yeah, but we kept closing early - even from the first day that I started -, so I didn’t really think much of it. Is there a reason?” 

Sun shifted above you, their hands sliding against their thighs in a show of anxiety. 

“Well, you see – I once broke a light inside of the nap-time nook by accident because I was being too clumsy! So the workers had to shut it down so none of the children would get hurt. They’ve been doing renovations on it ever since, but it should be opened back up soon.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. You could imagine Sun banging their head on a light, bewildered and upset as it rained down a thousand little shards of glass and ceramic onto them. 

“I hope it comes back soon, then. It would be fun to see you putting a bunch of cranky little kids to bed.”

Sun shifted above you once again, this time to scoot themselves away from your leg pinning down one of their feet.

“Oh, no, sunbeam, I don’t put the children to bed!” Sun chitters.

Confused, your brain began to search for a simple (yet believable) explanation as to why Sun wouldn’t put the children to bed, but to no avail. Your mind only drew blanks.

“Wait, why don’t you? Is it a S.T.A.F.F. bot?”

Shaking their head, Sun replies, “No, not that! It’s my other program, Moondrop, that’s in charge of the children when it’s nap-time. I simply take care of all of the playtime needs!”

You leapt from Sun’s grasp and scrambled around to face them wildly, hands and legs shaking from the sudden motion. You could almost feel the blood rushing to your head. 

“T-there’s another one of you?! Are you serious?!” 

Sun blinked slowly, chirruping happily to themself (themselves, now?) in spite of your reaction. 

“Yes; He is considered my ‘brother code’, as I am his. We’re set in the same body, but we can alter our appearance slightly to suit our needs.” 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This had all been kept a complete secret from you this entire time - even from Vanessa! - and you were beside yourself. 

“Ah– so that makes you both boys, then?” 

Sun seemed confused by the very question. 

“Yes we are both considered male, but not through a biological standard – we have no presently defining genitalia.” 

You sputtered at their - his - choice of wording. “Oh, okay– I had just been using ‘they’; I had meant to ask you - guess that clears that up.”

“–but back to this ‘other brother’ thing. How does he appear? Oh, is it another button?”

Sun shook their - his. - head. 

“No; he lives as a semi-active slice of code within my system. He’s always there - we can even talk to each other! - and we can change who is in control through our own distinction. We just have to run a switch.” Sun explains, tapping his forehead with a finger. 

“So you’ve been talking this entire time, without me knowing?” 

“Yes, sunflower, we have.” Sun smiles. “He can see through my eyes, as well; He’s personally been adamant on meeting you since you got here!” 

“Can I see him?!” You shout, ignoring your fingers trembling out of excitement.

Sun broke out into a fit of garbled laughter. He doubled over, wheezing. 

“He did not want me to say that, oh-ho! That was quite funny, yes!” 

Sun had resumed his usual demeanor of child-speak; A sign he was either happy, excited, or feeling distant. Given the context, you figured it was the former. 

“Moony says he doesn’t want to come out and see you yet, flower. But don’t worry!  We can override the switching process - it’s conscious, you see - if we turn out the lights! Then he’ll have to come out!” 

Sun motioned for you to flip off the lights to the daycare, which were located near the security desk. You clambered through the tunnel that connected to the exit of the softplay clearing, tumbling onto the ground in a heap. 

You quickly leapt up and made for the master switch, grabbing a flashlight from a cubby beside the security chair. With a clunk, clunk, clunk, you could see the fluorescent overhead lights shut off one by one until the daycare was pitch-black. You clicked on your flashlight, letting the weak beam of light guide you back through the little clearing hole. 

When you made it back, you saw a figure sitting on a stack of foam blocks, their legs crossed diligently and fingers interlaced at their waist. 

This was Moon.

A pair of luminescent red eyes met yours, filled with curiosity and perplexion. He had the same face as Sun, but the orange metal section was replaced with an inky-black one instead, leaving the sculpted portion of his moon to pop in comparison. A long blue nightcap littered with stars adorned his head instead of Sun’s triangular rays, a little jingling sitting bell on the end.

You felt an ear-splitting grin explode across your face. “You must be Moon.” 

Moon’s head tipped the slightest amount; perhaps out of confusion? “Yes, that would be correct. My brother has invoked a switch outside of my consent, so forgive me if I come across as bitter for the moment. It has no direct correlation to you.” He said, voice box clik-clik-clik-ing away, attempting to switch over from one voice to another. 

Moon’s voice, once it had fully emerged, was husky, rumbling deep within his chest as he spoke. You sat back onto the floor, this time with Moon high above you, making you crane your neck to look up to him. 

“Why did you not want me to see you if you wanted to meet me so much?” You asked. 

Moon unclasped his hands, instead using them to hold himself upright. 

“You see, little nova, I have a reputation for, say… frightening the children. While I did long to make your acquaintance, I did not want to make you afraid.” 

With a shake of you head, you reply, 

“I’m not afraid at all! I think you’re really sweet, actually. Is it your eyes being red that scares kids?” 

Moon nods.

“You truly aren’t afraid of me, are you? No, it appears not.” Moon speculates, peering at your calm expression inquisitively, putting a hand to his chin. “My eyes are specially programmed to see in the dark, but one thing that my developers did not make any consideration for was that my HEX color is set to red by default with the night-mode setting.”

“Why can’t they just change it?” 

Moon laughs, his voice rich over his speakers. 

“Ah, star, it’s not that simple. One would have to manually deconstruct my faceplate and rewire my ocular circuits to attach a mini-computer that could access my terminal and rewrite the HEX code by hand.” He explains.

With a mischievous grin, you add, “Well, unbeknownst to you, big guy, I took a full robotic economics class in college, - which I passed - not to mention base-level computer coding all throughout high school.”

“So,” You finalize,

“I could rewire you, if you like. Call it our first ‘bonding moment’.” 

Moon chuckles, reaching over to pat the top of your head lightly.

“If you believe that you’re truly up to the task, little nova, I will be greatly appreciative if you manage to achieve your goal. However, we should make our way down to Parts & Services to gather what we need.”

With that, he stands, offering you a helping hand up. You take it, thanking him gently as you shine your flashlight forwards as the two of you make your way to the entrance. 

“Have you ever been outside of the daycare before, Moon?” 

“Oh, countless times, star. Sunny refuses to set foot outside, however, and blocks himself out of my consciousness when I step away. He is… adamant on staying loyal to his position.” Moon chuckles to himself.

“And you? You don’t care?” You question. 

“I am but a creature of the night, starlight. I am not bound by the same walls as my brother.”

–--------

You arrived back at the daycare with a set of connector cables, a screwdriver, and a mini-computer. The two of you sat back in your little clearing, this time with Moon sitting level to you. 

You gesture for Moon to give you his face. He gently sets his faceplate in your palms, contentedly resting his eyes as you gaze over the familiar terrain of his face. 

Taking a hand away, you pick up your screwdriver and work on loosening the plates holding the sections of moon together. The miniscule screws are tough and keep slipping away from the head of the screwdriver, but you manage to lift the plates up in sections, leaving you to separate the black panel beside Moon’s left eye. 

After it’s risen up enough to pry away with your fingers, you set all of the pieces down and observe what’s left behind.

You’re met with a silver base frame, all the color stripped away once the coverings were gone. His eyelids were still intact, so you loosened those, marking the left and right pieces so you wouldn’t mix them up in the reassembly process. 

“Alright. I’ve stripped the base away, and next I’ll have to take off your ocular caps so that I can get access to your LEDs.” You say.

Moon hums peacefully in response. 

You twist off the glass domes protecting his eyes, and groan in frustration when you see a flat plastic film covering the tops of the LEDs. You unscrew them, setting them aside, as well. 

Fifteen or so LEDs - cameras, you should say - look back at you, less diluted now without the clear coverings. The color flickers periodically as you tease the cluster out of the eye socket, exposing a bundle of little wires. 

“Aha.” 

You pull a single LED from the group, which had a small opening in the back where you could plug in the connector cable to your mini-computer. You did the same to the other eye, leaving two cables linking to either eye. 

You open the terminal to Moon’s internal wiring, code flashing in front of your eyes.

“Okay, I’m in.” 

Moon makes a surprised noise. “That was quick. I’ll direct you to the HEX code and ocular functions.”

With a little whir, your screen blinks, and you can recognize some distinct lines of code. You highlight what looks to be the lines designating his eye color. 

“Is this highlighted portion right? Don’t want to fuck anything up, y’know? It’s been a few years, and you’re expensive.” You say.

“Language, nova. You are correct, however. Good job.” 

You smile, clicking onto the HEX code. “What color do you want to change it to?”

“Something pretty. And soothing.”

Chuckling again at the sentience of the AI inside of Moon, you enter a new code, setting it to a soft, baby blue. You enter the function, and immediately the camera-LEDs shift to the inputted color. Your heart soars. 

“Oh– I did it! It worked, Moon!!”

Hastily, you put everything back together, hands trembling once again from an overload of excited emotions. Once all of Moon’s pieces had been fastened back into place, you stepped back as Moon reactivated his cameras, blinking once, twice, and then again, eyes adjusting to the switch. You grinned ear-to-ear.

Moon’s smile grew noticeably wider, his eyes lifting into a happy, proud expression.

“Indeed you did, my little star. Thank you. I am extremely grateful to you for doing this for me. Truly.”

Bashful, you look to the ground – you weren’t expecting such high praise from him. Really, you had just wanted to help. Your cheeks grow warm as you set your tools on the ground.

You flinch when a cold hand grazes your skin, pressing into your cheek. You look up, and it’s Moon, featuring a concerned expression. 

“Are you alright, starlight? It wasn’t something I said, was it?” 

“No, no– well, yes, but- but not in a bad way! I just… let’s say I’m not really used to people thanking me so much.” You laugh nervously. 

Moon makes an intrigued clicking noise. “Ah, I see. In that case, I will have to make it a point to thank you for things more often.” Moon smiles gently, his thumb running across your cheekbone slowly. 

You lean into the caress, just a bit. Moon wears a pleasant expression now, apparently happy that you enjoyed the attention. 

“Is this nice, nova?” He questions. 

You nod against his hand. 

“Let’s wrap up here for the night.”

[hypersonicxd-blog]

Obey

You stumble through the compound door clumsily, smashing into the cold arch of the doorway. "Sorry" You mutter looking back to check the arch was okay, you hesitate, shaking your head trying to clear the fog mixing in your brain. You have just got back from a mission; the only problem being you couldn't remember the mission; well the end of it. You walked into the mission room, finding your teammates sat around the oval table.

You gulp as you stand in the doorway, breath hitching in your throat. "Shut the door." Your boss snaps, you gulp obeying immediately. You freeze in place, scared for the debrief to begin. "Sit down." Fury orders again, already tired of your shit. You drop in your place automatically sitting where you were stood. You register a snicker from Tony.

"Don't be a smart ass Agent Hale, get your ass up." Again your body shoots up before your brain has the chance to process the command. "Take a seat." Fury orders again, this time pointing to a vacant seat between Steve and Bucky. You body obeys, rushing over and sitting in the seat, Steve shoots you a caring glance, worry in his eyes. You try to nod at your best friend, but only manage to move your head a fraction. "Agent Hale, eyes front." You head snaps back to look at the director of Shield, missing the confused glance Bucky was shooting your way.

"Mission report" He snaps, growing increasingly annoyed at your behaviour. He was used to your stubbornness and sassy tones, it's why he never paired you with Tony. He couldn't cope with you both at the same time. This behaviour was odd. "Yes Sir, so we got to New York, we were fighting the Chitauri, we managed to close the portal that was allowing more ships through and now here we are." You say, recalling what you could. In reality you could not remember anything from the portal closing, to walking into the compound.

Your mind was a complete blank as you try to think about why you hadn't come back with the team. "Right, but where did you go?" He presses. A rather masculine British voice breaks through the fogginess of your mind an answer. 'When they ask, tell them you went for a pint to celebrate. You fell and knocked your head pretty bad, hence why your a bit hazy on details.'

You clear your throat and repeat the words; "I went for a pint, to celebrate. I fell and knocked my head pretty bad, hence why I'm a bit hazy on details." You say, staring at Fury. "You went for a pint?" Fury seethes the same time Bucky and Steve speak. "You mean a beer, your ain't British doll." "Shit are you okay?" You maintained your eye contact with Fury as your answered his question. "Yes I went for a pint." You turned to Steve "I'm good Capsicle." You turn your glare on Bucky. "Same thing robocop."

"You sure, Bruce should check you out." Nat voices, concern on her face. The same male voice piques in your head. 'No, tell them you're fine. It won't be good for you if they investigate further, or for the people you love.' "I'm fine, I promise the medics checked me out before I left." You lie. "I thought you said you didn't remember anything after your fall." Bucky questions, your turn slightly and shoot him a glare. "I said I was hazy of details, clean your ears out gramps." Tony laughs, clapping his hands together.

"Well that's definitely the Y/N we all know and love, so I'd say everything is fine." He makes to stand when Fury orders him to sit back down, he huffs but did as he was told. "This is not fine, Loki is still at large, we have no idea when he will strike again." You scrunch your face in confusion, before righting your face to neutral expression. 'Who the hell if the Loki?' "I will ask Heimdall to keep me updated if Loki appears anywhere within the 9 realms." Thor speaks up.

"Loki is your brother Thor, shouldn't you know him well enough to find him." Again you felt confusion flood your mind; 'Why was this the first time hearing of this man, who was supposedly Thor's brother? You tighten your lips not wanting to interrupt with a question that would draw more attention to your current predicament. 'Good girl.' The same male voice purrs in your mind, you almost gasp at the jolt the praise sends to your core, quickly schooling your reaction. You look at your hands in even more confusion. 'I will explain in dew time, my pet.'  You freeze slightly. You tune out of the conversation going on around you. 'I'm going crazy. Maybe I did really hit my head.' 'No pet, not crazy. Now focus and be a good little obedient pet, for me.'

'Yes Sir.' You tune out of your head snapping your attention back to the room, the conversation coming too a close with the dismissal of the agents. You make to stand and leave, when Fury's voice calls you back. Telling you to sit back down, he wasn't done with you yet. Steve gives your shoulder a squeeze on his way out, leaning into your ear.

"I'll come find you later, don't sass him. It will only make it worse." You nod as he stands and pats your shoulder once more before leaving the room. You turn your full attention back to your boss and settle in for your lecture.

~

A hour later you leave the briefing room, huffing to yourself. 'An hour of your day wasted, just great.' The fogginess in your head has simmered into a dull cloud allowing clearness to peak through like sunshine in an over cast sky. 'Not a waste pet, I now know exactly how much they know about me.' You smile to yourself, happy to please the mysterious voice.

'So I did good, sir?'

'Yes pet, I'm very proud. Now I have some business to attend to so I won't be in your head as such for a while. Do you remember the rule kitten?'

'Yes Sir, I am to obey my teammates, so they do not question me. I need to be believable, keep them happy and keep our interaction a secret.'

'Good girl,' the voice purrs. You preen again at the praise and rub your thighs together as you walk. You're looking down as the fogginess starts to once again cloud your mind, your body bumps into something again. "Sorry" You mutter expecting to see another door frame, instead your eyes fall on Bucky. "Did you just apologise to me?" He smirks, you roll your eyes at him and shove past him. "Wait." He orders, your body freezing without your consent. You glare at the floor, trying to figure out why you couldn't move. "Apologise, you just slammed into me, twice." He says smugly, taunting you. "Sorry for slamming into you, twice." His eyes widen slightly.

"Wow, I didn't actually think you would." Bucky pauses. "You must have really hit your head doll." He laughs. "Don't call me that." You snap angrily, he glares at you a smirk playing on his lips still. "Oh I'll call you whatever I want, got that?"

"Yes Sir." You hear James' breath hitch, but he doesn't say anything. "Can I go now?" You huff, as you watch confusion flush his face, but he still doesn't respond. As if trying to figure something out. "Please Sir?" You ask impatiently. You just wanna go vent to Steve and then have a bath. "You can go." He pauses as your feet lift to storm off. "After you've given me a kiss doll." He teases, testing his theory. Your body obeys without your brain obeying, you approach Barnes before leaning and placing your lips on his and kissing him. His metal hand reaches and wraps through your hair, pulling you closer.

 After a few seconds, he pulls back smirking. "This is going to be fun, doll." He releases you and walks away, calling over his shoulder. "You can go now Kitten." You walk off confused. Why had you just kissed Barnes, you hated him and he hated you. Or at least that's what you thought. You shake your head and storm off in the direction of Steve's room. You reach his room and walk in without knocking, your eyes scan the room finding no sign of Steve. You sigh and head over to his bed, flopping onto it and laying on your back.

'Why on earth did Barnes want me to kiss him? Why did I kiss him? Why did I not just flip him off and leave? Did I want to kis -' You're pulled from your thoughts by Steve walking into the room. "Of course, help yourself to my bed." Steve groans, as he approaches the bed, joining you. You turn to face him and take in his appearance, beads of water rest on his chest, dripping down his sides as he lays next to you. Your eyes travel further down his body taking in how the towel is wrapped around him, how it parts slightly at the legs.

'Damn, what I'd give for that towel to just fall open.' You sigh, rolling your eyes at yourself. You force yourself back onto your back, looking at the ceiling. 'Keep your legs crossed.' "Did Fury give you a hard time?" Steve asks, turning to face you. "Of course he did, guy needs to remove the lead pipe from his ass, may be a little bit more tolerable then." You admit. "And did you sass him?" He asks, looking at you intently. You turn yourself to him once again, keeping your eyes on his face.

"No Captain, I was well behaved." You mock as you prop yourself up on your arm. "Good girl" Steve teases. You bite your lip as your core throbs. 'What is wrong with me?' Your clench your thighs slightly as your core throbs for a second time, you whimper softly as you feel the wetness pooling in your panties. Steve notices your thighs clenching and moves his gaze down, you follow his eye line and see his towel has fell open, from lying on his side. You gasp as you see the angry looking head of his erection. A drop of precum hangs from the tip, tempting you to taste.

You rub your thighs together, trying to get some much needed friction. "Like what you see baby?" Steve asks, a smirk on his face. You choose not to answer, instead closing your eyes to try and calm yourself. "Don't ignore me." He growls, gripping your face. "Sorry Captain" You start, he tightens his hold on your chin. "Answer my question." He demands, mischief in his eyes.

"I like what I see." You moan as your core throbs, releasing more slick. "Show me how much you like it babygirl." He orders, releasing your face. Before you can decide otherwise your body moves off the bed, till your kneeling in front on Steve. He perches himself on his elbows, giving you his full attention.

"Well..." He pushes. Your hand reaches up, unwrapping the towel from his body, you groan as you clench around nothing. Your finger wrap around his member, your fingers not meeting due to his girth. Your hand rubs up over the tip softly causing Steve to buck his hips into your fist. You use his precum to ease the slide of your hand. "Fuck Y/N." You tighten your fist slightly, rotating your hand on the upstroke.

"Fuck, use your mouth and get it nice and wet for me." Steve purrs as he watches you. You lean forward and capture the tip in your mouth, laving over the head before moving your lips down his shaft. You begin to bob your head up and down in addition to your hand movements. "Fuck, I knew you'd be amazing at this with those lips of yours." Steve groans, pushing you up. "You're gunna let me fuck your face, okay?"

"Yes Captain." You obey. Steve stands up, guiding you up until your level with his crotch. "Open up for me, you slut." He hisses as he pushes forward, pressing his tip against your lips. You obey, opening your mouth for him to slot himself in, which he does. Sliding home in one thrust, his head breaches your throat and you fight to stop yourself from gagging. You place your hands on his thighs as he draws out.

"Breathe baby." He purrs, before sliding back in your mouth again, throat constricting around the head of his cock. You groan around his member as he thrusts in and out of your mouth relentlessly. "Fuck, you're too good at this" He groans as his hips speed up chasing the sweet relief.

"Hey Stev-" Bucky's voice cuts short as his eyes fall upon the scene in front of him. His blood begins to boil, anger consuming him. "What the fuck are you doing?" He screams storming over to you. Your mouth stays on Steve's shaft as he keeps his pace, too caught up in the feeling. "Y/N! Get off him." Bucky orders, your body obeys trying to pull off Steve immediately. Steve follows your face, chasing his orgasm, not caring about his best friend being there. He thrusts into your throat one last time before Bucky pulls you back. Steve groans as his hips still and his member pulses, painting your face with his release. Steve doesn't get to enjoy his climax too much as Bucky's fist soon connects with the side of his face.

"You knew! YOU FUCKING KNEW HOW I FELT ABOUT HER?! HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME" Bucky screamed punching him once more. Steve just laughs. "She wanted it, trust me." You could see Bucky getting even angrier, before you could stop yourself you stood up placing yourself between the two super soldiers. "Bucky stop." You beg, holding your hands in a pleading motion.

He looks at you, your plump lips, covered with his best friends discretion. Your watery eyes, from being throat fucked, by someone he trusted. "Fine" He snaps at you, looking at you with venomous eyes. His gaze settles back on Steve. "You need to back the fuck off, she's mine." He hisses, grabbing your wrist and pulling you from the room. "We'll see about that" Steve's voice follows you as you're pulled towards Bucky's room.  Bucky's grip on your wrist doesn't lessen as he drags you through the compound towards his room.

He drags into his room, slamming the door behind you turning the lock into place. Before you get a chance to protest Bucky is ushering you towards the bathroom. "Strip" He commands, your fingers shake as you obey him, without question. Your body moving on its own accord. You reach up to your combat jacket and undo the zip as quick as you can, not wanting to anger or displease the super soldier in front of you. You could still fell Steve's release on your face, sliding down your neck and you shivered as your jacket slid from your arms.

Once your jacket fell to the floor you bent at the hip to untie your combat boots, before standing and toeing them off. You reach for the hem of your vest and tug it up out of your pants before bringing it over your head, trying not to tarnish is with the cum on your face. You next unbuttoned your pants, shimmying out of them. You looked at Bucky as you stood only in your black bra and black lace panties, it was the plainest set you owned. But it was still cute and you knew you looked good in it. You lock eyes with Bucky as you stand tall, proud almost. You notice the icy blue of his eyes has practically disappeared, being replaced with black. You gulp, you know that look. Had seen it aimed your way so many times. You just never thought you would be on the receiving end of that look from Bucky Barnes.

You thought he hated you, so you were very confused right now, not just about him. But Steve as well and why the hell you had obeyed to strip in front of the super soldier. You couldn't stop though and a fullness in your stomach told you, you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would. You rubbed your thighs together subconsciously. Buck smirked as he caught your action, he reached a hand down to adjust himself, groaning as his palm brushed his arousal. His action caught your attention and your gaze was drawn to his crotch. You gasped as you took in the bulge that had formed in his pants.

"If you thought Steve was big, you're in for a shock with me doll." He purrs as he motions to your bra and panties, a non verbal command you quickly rush to obey. He watches you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra and chooses to talk again. "Even better than Steve, I was always big, so the serum only made me bigger by a little. Steve's is mainly serum." He huffs a laugh, not caring that he's talking shit about Steve. He put his hands on my girl, he thought angrily. He watched intensely as your hands reach to the straps, sliding them down your arms, allowing your breasts free from their captors.

Bucky groans as he absorbs the image of your breasts greedily, eyes falling on the shining glimmer underneath your stiff nipples. "Fuck, I'd hoped you had your nipples pierced, whenever I'd look I always had a feeling you had them done from the outline." He purred as he reached to palm himself through his pants. "You've stared at my tits?" You question, hands moving to your panties. Your brain prompts you to stop, but your body doesn't let you as you hook your thumbs into the side of them, drawing them down your legs in an almost seductive manner. "Yeah doll, I 've stared as pretty much every part of you. You're just to dense to notice." You halt your movements.

"I didn't say stop, did I. Panties off." He orders as he steps forward. "I'm not dense." You snap, removing your panties and standing up, trying to cover your body slightly. "Ah don't cover up. Let me see you." He purrs stepping forwards. "And you are dense when it comes to some things doll, like seeing that you drive me absolutely fucking insane. You can't even imagine how many times I've thought about bending you over the meeting table and fucking that sass you like to spew so much out of you." He growls as he pulls you flush to him.

You startle slightly at his admission. "Bucky, please don't." You know its futile, you don't understand how you ended up here, why you'd even listened to him in the first place. "Don't what doll. I'm not doing anything." He replies, as his finger traces the curve of your breast, ghosting over your pert bud. "You're going to shower, I'm just here to make sure you clean yourself." He pauses as he pinches your nipple between his fingers. "Thoroughly, we don't want you missing a spot, now do we." He purrs as he pushed you towards the shower. He opens the door and reaches in for the switch, setting the water to a mild temperature.

He didn't want it to be too hot as he didn't plan on letting you relax to much, that and the coolness would help cool you both down. He motioned for you to step into the shower, but you hesitated, finally feeling like you had a ounce of control over your own body. "In the shower Y/N. Don't make me repeat myself. You won't like what happens." He growls the last part as he removes his t-shirt, throwing it in the corner on the floor. He smirks when you obey this time, reaching to pop the button of his pants open.

He watches you stand under the fall of water, washing away the disrespect of his so called best friend. He removes his pants and boxers in one move, before joining you quickly and crowding you against the wall. "So how is it that Steve got you on your knees for him, huh?" He pushes you as he cages you with his arms against the cold shower wall. You shiver as the cold washes over you, arching away from the wall slightly and pushing your breasts against Bucky. Your nipples run against his chest teasingly and you moan at the contact, feeling the jolt it sends to your centre.

"I don't know" You admit honestly as you shake the lustful thoughts from your mind. "I know." Bucky laughs, crowding against you further so he's flush against you, his length poking your thigh. You look at him in the eyes. "How?" You ask. He ignores you and brings his hand to your head cupping your face and bringing it to his. "Doesn't matter. But tell me something honestly. Do you like Steve?" He is face is a mere breath away from yours now, your heart pounding in your chest. 'How is Bucky Barnes of all people making me go weak in the knees.'

'Sshh Pet, I wanna see how this plays out.' The voice purrs , his tone a mixture of lust and amusement. 'Sorry Sir.' You prompt immediately, angry at yourself for disappointing the voice. 'It's okay Kitten, I know you're confused and I will explain all in dew time. Right now though I need to see more of you. I want to devour you.' The voice rasps, you gasp as Bucky grips your throat, drawing the focus back to him.

"ANSWER ME" He roars at you. You whimper slightly as your body releases another wave of slick. "Of course I like Steve, he's my best friend." You say, as you try to make yourself smaller, hoping you can disappear. "You don't just suck off your best friend doll. Me and Steve are- were best friends for 70 years and I never once sucked him off nor he me." He laughed as your face blanched. "SO I'll ask one more time doll. Do you have romantic feelings for Steve?" He demands. "No Sir. I think he is attractive and sexy, but I only see him as a best friend. I don't know why I did what I did. It's like I couldn't stop." You huff out.

'Be careful Pet, can't have you letting out my secret. You intrigue me. But don't think that will save you, if you fuck this up.' The voice warns sternly. You gulp; 'I'm sorry Master, I'll do better I promise.' You hear a dark pleased chuckle bounce through your head. 'Good girl, now give this fellow a kiss, one so passionate he drops his arms. I want you to place your front on the glass door. So I can see you better. Okay kitten?' The voice purrs.

You almost lunge forwards at Bucky trying to obey the voice, but stop yourself from crashing into him just in time, allowing a more gently touching of your lips. You put all the emotion into the kiss you could muster, lust, anger, fear, love. You kissed Bucky like your life depending on it, moaning into him as his hands wrapped around your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Bucky's tongue probed your bottom lip, but you hesitated for a second too long, causing Bucky to reach down and pinch your ass with his vibrainium hand. You yelp into the kiss, Bucky taking this opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

You manage to manoeuvre yourself so that your back is flush with the glass of the door. 'Your ass would look beautiful brandishing my mark, pet.'  You moan into the kiss as your pussy throbs, a weird sensation falling over you. You moan again as you feel the sensation travel up your thigh. You feel Bucky's hands, one is cupping your breast the other is palming your ass, so what is touching your thigh. You get drawn back to Bucky as he bites your lip, creating a small cut and suckling at the blood there. He groans as his hips thrust against you, his erection rubbing against your thigh.

That explains it, you think. You feel yourself being spun around as Bucky slams your front against the door, previously warmed by your back it doesn't make you gasp, what does is the glowing emerald eyes staring back at you. 'Master?' You ask, the person smirks and nods. 'Yes Kitten, you look ravishing. I bet you feel it too. Shame this oaf is going to get you, before I do.' He purrs. You freeze slightly at the implication Loki just told you. Now he's in front of you, you recognize the black haired god. The one you were supposed to take down on the earlier mission. 'Hold on you're Thor's brother?'

'Adopted brother, but yes Kitten. Now shush and enjoy this.'  You stare at Loki in confusion, but don't ask any further questions as instructed you shush and enjoy the sensation of Bucky rubbing soap onto your shoulders and back. "Gotta get you all clean, pretend you and Steve never happened. Mine." Bucky says to himself as he kneels and begins working on your legs. You feel the phantom sensation again on the vee of your pussy, it feels like fingers trailing along the skin. You gasp as you feel a long, thin finger brush through your folds.

You look up at the man on the other side of the glass, noticing the green swirling around his hand as he makes circular motions. You moan as the phantom fingers circle your bud, applying just the right pressure to bring you so close to the edge. Bucky works on scrubbing your knees, moving to your thighs, as another phantom hand joins the mix, two long fingers thrusting deep into your centre, you arch your body. You hear Bucky groan as you all but shove your ass in his face, he teasingly nips at your check. "Patience doll." He teases as he rubs soft motions on the inside of your thighs.

'Poor guy has no idea you're about to cum, does he. I was gunna just watch.'  The voice paused as the thrusting fingers sped up and the fingers circling your clit  increased speed and pressure. 'But I decided I want to be the one who makes you cum first tonight Kitten.' He smirks as he locks eyes with your through the slightly foggy glass. You bite your lip as your legs begin to shake. Bucky moves from your thighs, standing flush against you, his erection slips between your thighs, rubbing along your folds. Pushing the phantom fingers impossibly deeper.

'Be a good girl and cum for your master.' Loki maintains eyes contact with you as Bucky's hands grope your breasts toying with your nipples. The extra stimulation sends you over the edge as you gush over the phantom hands and Bucky's length, you bite your lip to keep in your cry of ecstasy. 'Good girl Kitten, shame I had to waste my seed on a rag though. You would look delectable round with my child.' Loki purrs. "Did you just cum?" Bucky asks confusion evident in his tone. You don't answer, but whimper in reply. "Words doll, use them." Bucky spins you around to face him, seeing the flush of red on your face, already answering his question.

"Yeah I just came, I'm sorry." You begin, before Bucky crashes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. "Don't apologise babydoll, that was so fucking hot. You squirted untouched as I played with your nipples. Fuck. I was gunna wait but I need you now." He lifts you up so you wrap your legs around his hips, his length resting against your entrance. "Tell me you need me, tell me you want me." He begs, knowing you'll do what he says. He knows he shouldn't be taking advantage of you, but he's past caring. "I want you Bucky.." You say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I need you Bucky." You pant in his ear, he thrusts into you as hears the final word leaving your mouth. He slams into you, groaning into your neck as your tight channel grips his cock.

"So tight for me baby girl." He purrs as he begins a brutal pace of thrusting in and out your wet walls. "Do you feel that baby, feel how your walls cling to me. How you fit me like a... " Bucky groans as he feels you clench around him, your orgasm fast approaching. "Like a fucking glove. Fuck. I'm gunna cum. Got me so worked up by squirting on my cock. My little cock slut. All mine." He growls as you whimper, nails digging into his back. "You gunna cum again baby? Gunna cum all over my cock, milk my cock so you can be filled with my cum?"

You moan as you capture Buckys lips. "You like that? Wanna be my cum slut?" He growls as his pace slams into you, probably leaving bruises on your ass from how hard his thighs are slamming into it. "CUM" He demands as his cock twitches inside of you, his thick release coating your insides. Your body obeys him as you seize and your orgasm floods you, drowning you in euphoria. You feel your vision start to blur, as your eyes fading to black.

[ray-ray-writings]

Full of Suprises-DreamSMP Imagine

This is  wholesmp (kind of but not really. It’s only The Dream Team, SBI, Punz, and Tubbo) x gn!reader in the dreamsmp. Hope you enjoy! 

Masterlist here

Y/N is the server’s sweetheart. They’re innocent and couldn’t hurt a fly… at least that’s what everyone thinks. It isn’t until someone catches them working out does the SMP finally see just how badass this person can be. 

Y/N’s POV

I let out a sigh as I wiped the sweat off of my forehead. My workout routine was getting kind of boring and so I decided to add some new things to spice it up. “Okay,” I said to myself, “Let’s finish this out with some sit ups” I breathed out, staring at the metal bar I hung up many days ago. “And then we can go take a bath and relax,” I mumbled, slowly reaching up and grabbing the bar. 

I quickly adjusted and moved myself so that I was upside down on the bar with it resting on the back of my knees. I let myself take a deep breath before pooling all my strength and began pulling myself up with my core strength. “One,” I breathed out once my chest was against my thighs before going back down just to sit up again, “Two.” 

I did 35 of these sit ups before I decided that I had done enough and carefully let myself down on the ground and collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. As I caught my breath, I heard something in the doorway. “Woah,” a voice breathed out. I turned my head and caught Sapnap’s eyes boring holes into my skin. I gave the boy a bright smile and slowly sat myself up. “Hey Sapnap, you alright?” Sapnap nodded, still a little dumbfounded, “Yeah” he croaks, clearing his throat and shaking himself back into reality. “Yeah, I just… Didn’t know you could do that” I couldn’t help but giggle and shrug my shoulders. “There’s a lot of things that I can do…. Did you need something?” I asked, raising my eyebrow, slowly standing up and grabbing my water bottle and taking a long drink. “Umm… I think so, but honestly that was so attractive and surprising that I seemed to have forgotten what it is I was going to say and do… I’ll um… I’ll see you later.” And then he bolted. 

His behavior confused me a little bit, but I guess it was kind of shocking to see someone you think is very delicate do something not so delicate, especially seeing them hanging upside down and working out. But I shrugged it off and made my way back into the main part of my home. I quickly walked into my bedroom, grabbed some new clothes before going into the bathroom and taking a quick shower. 

When I got out of the shower, I decided to make myself something to eat. I was quickly side tracked by a knock on my front door. My brow furrowed in confusion, I wasn’t expecting anyone… Maybe Sapnap remembered what it was he wanted to say and or do. Well I was partially right. When I swung the door open, Sapnap was standing there. But behind him stood a bunch of other people. Dream, George, Punz, Wilbur, Techno, Tommy, Tubbo, and Philza all stood behind Sapnap with either a confused or a bored look on their face.  

“Can I help you guys with something?” I asked sweetly even though I was confused as to why they were all there. “Yeah,” Dream pipes up, “Sapnap said that you were doing something that we ‘just had to see’” He claims, a mocking tone lacing his voice toward the end of his sentence. I cocked my eyebrow and shifted my gaze to Sapnap who just nodded at me, “Show them what you were doing when I came here earlier” he encouraged. I let out a little laugh, “Well I just took a shower but if you really want,” I teased. A sea of head bobbing made me laugh again. “Okay fine. Come on, I’ll show you.” 

I quickly motioned my hand telling them to follow me. I turned on my heel and made my way through the house to my little workout room. The nine that followed behind squeezed their way into the room. They watched as my hands reached up above me and grabbed the bar. “You guys ready?” I asked, adjusting my grip so I wouldn’t fall and faceplant on the ground. A rumble of “yes”’s came from the small crowd. “Alrighty then.” 

In one swift motion I pulled my feet off of the ground, letting myself hand there for a moment, before shifting and throwing my legs upwards and then easing them back down so that the bar rested against the back of my knees for the second time that day. As I dangled, I could hear gasps coming from the side of the room where everyone was piled. I couldn’t help but chuckle at their reaction before I did a few sit ups like I had done earlier for my workout before I decided that they had their fill and got off the bar. 

When I got off the bar and turned around, everyone, with the exception of Sapnap, was staring at me in complete and utter shock. “Close your mouths” I teased, walking forward, “You’ll catch flies.” An explosion of voices all trying to one up each other in volume sounded from the group. I could only make out a few key sentences like, “that was hot” “I didn’t know you could do that” “You’re so innocent since when-” Another laugh rumbled through my body. “Guys!” I finally called, bringing everyone’s attention back to me. “I’ve been working out like that for a while… I don’t know why it’s so surprising,” I shrugged, genuinely confused as to why it was such a big deal. 

“It’s surprising because you’re you Y/N!” Punz exclaimed, his eyes still wide. “Yeah! I mean, you’re Y/N and that’s just crazy to see and weird” Tommy jumped in. But all it did was make me even more confused. Philza must have seen the confusion still heavily present in my face because he jumped in as well with an explanation, “What we’re trying to say is that you’ve always been so sweet with us that I guess that we haven’t ever really seen you do something so badass before so we’re all a little… shocked so to say.” 

The confusion I felt quickly left my body at the explanation. “OH!!” I exclaimed with a smile, “That makes sense… Well then, surprise! I’m actually really strong!” I announced with a giggle. Smiles graced the faces of everyone there watching me. “Yeah you are Y/N… Say if you ever want to spar, let me know. I’d love to see just how far your skills have progress,” Techno offered up with a half smile. “No, no, no, no!” Dream immediately jumped in before I could say anything, “If they want to spare, they should come to me! I’m clearly the best PVPer and I think that they would flourish best under my training!” “Oh really? Tell me why I’ve beaten you in more duels than you’ve beaten me!” “Hey maybe I want to be the one to train with Y/N!” “Shut up Tommy!” 

Chaos broke out in my home as everyone began arguing for the right to spar with me. I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous excuses some of them gave to try and make their point. My eyes scanned the crowd and landed on one person who wasn’t actually arguing. I quickly made my way over to him and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. “You want to see how long it takes for them to notice that we’re gone?” I murmured in Tubbo’s ear. A bright grin lit up his face as he nodded quickly, “Of course… We’re will we go?” He asked. I slowly began walking to the door and out of the workout room. “To the kitchen!” I announced once we were out of earshot. “I’m starving. All that working out had me working up an appetite… You hungry?” I asked, leading the younger boy to my kitchen. “I could eat” Tubbo responded with a shoulder shrug. “That’s my boy” 

Once in the kitchen, I quickly whipped up some breakfast for Tubbo and I to share. As we ate, we could still hear the arguing of the others in the other room. “Did you really not know that I was that strong?” I asked Tubbo once the both of us had food in front of us. Tubbo let out a small laugh as he scooped some eggs into his mouth. “Oh, I always knew you were strong. One time I watched you deadlift Henry the cow because he was being stubborn and wasn’t moving.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. Tommy had left me in charge of watching his pet cow because he knew I would protect it and wouldn’t kill it. He was right. But when I tried to take Henry back inside after letting him out to eat, Henry wouldn’t come, no matter what I tried. So, as Tubbo said, I just picked the heavy cow up and walked back inside. “I just thought it was funny to watch the others through themselves in front of you and treat you like a delicate little flower. Because you could easily take all of them in a one on one fight,” Tubbo finished, emphasizing his point by taking another bite of breakfast. 

I set my fork down and reached over and ruffled the younger boy’s hair. “You’re the best Tubbo… Don’t tell the others I said that though.” The two of us giggled at that. Together, we finished breakfast, all the while still being able to hear the others argue from my workout room. “You want to go for a walk?” I asked Tubbo once the dishes were cleaned and put away. “Sure! We could even pick some flowers!” He cheered. “I would love that! My house could definitely use some brightening up!” I responded in the same excited tone. 

So the two of us quickly rushed through my house gathering everything we may need for the small trip. Just as we were finally at the front door ready to leave, we heard it. “Wait a minute!” Wilbur’s loud voice called from the workout room, “Where is Y/N!” The room burst in loud noise, most of which was the calling of my name. Tubbo and I burst into a fit of laughter as we heard thundering footsteps leave the room and head straight toward the main area. “Go Tubbo! Go!” I called out, throwing the front door open before sprinting outside. “Hey get back here!” The teasing voice of Sapnap called from behind us. 

The two of us ran for as long as we could, but when half of the server has stupidly long legs, it doesn’t take a whole lot of time for them to catch up. I felt a body hit my own as I was tackled to the ground. Once I was flipped over, I could see clearly the grinning face of Techno hovering above me. “I’ve got you now Y/N, and to think you’re so stro-” Techno didn’t get to finish. I quickly wrapped my hands around his wrists that were pinning me to the ground. I then swung my legs out and around him and in one swift motion I turned us over so that I was now pinning Techno to the ground. 

The look on Techno’s face caused me to burst out in laughter, “I think I’ve got you now Techno” I teased before standing up off of him and holding my hand for him to take. But he just laid there, frozen in shock on the ground. Harsh hands clapped down on my shoulders and Tommy’s cackle filled my ears, “They got you. They actually got you! The great Blood God Technoblade! Pinned the ground by none other than our very own flower Y/N” That was all it took for Techno to spring off the ground and begin charging Tommy. Tommy let out a scream before sprinting away, Techno following closely behind. 

Another arm wraps around my shoulder and this time, Dream’s wheeze fills my ear. “Oh gosh. I’m so sorry we didn’t believe you. That was the best thing I’ve ever seen,” he cackles, leaning his weight on me. I couldn’t help but laugh along with him, his laugh was contagious. “Just remember it next time you piss me off,” I teased, elbowing his side. “Oh don’t you worry. I will always remember this moment. Oh my god!” 

The rest of the group joined us, laughter also bubbling out of their lips. That was a day that would always be remembered. The day that Sapnap accidentally saw me working out and dragged a bunch of people to my home to prove that I was strong. The day that I pinned Technoblade. The day that Y/N became more than a delicate flower that people saw as someone who needed to be protected. The day I became a badass.

There you have it! I hope you enjoyed, and if so, be sure to leave a like! I’m not too sure if I like how this one turned out, so let me know what you thought about it!!!

[triplexdoublex]

Sex Drive part 2

Pairings: Colson x Reader, Colson x Reader x Rook Reader x Rook

Warnings/tags: smut, unexpected exhibitionism, threesome, double penetration, anal, choking, hair pulling, mild spitting, humiliation, jealousy, being walked in on

Authors note: Being wet DOES NOT = consent irl, just had to put that out there as it may seen I’m suggesting that in a certain scene, Kells is just saying sexy shit and reader is 100% consenting.

Part 1 here

*************

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to go without sex the whole month,” you tease with a giggle as Colson secures his black flag bandana around your eyes from behind you. “Can’t even make it two more weeks, huh?” You tease.

He roughly grips your jaw, turning your head to speak into your ear. “Funny, I don’t remember giving you permission to talk,” he grits through his teeth as he strips your body bare. “Now, walk!” he commands, pushing you forward.

“Oooh where are we going?” You question playfully.

“Don’t worry about it,” he quips, shoving you through the doorway of the adjoining hotel room, unbeknownst to you.

Once inside the room he quickly removes the bandana from your eyes and tosses you down on the bed before you have a chance to view your surroundings.

“Colson?” you push yourself up on your hands confused. “This isn’t our ro — Jesus Christ!” You shriek when you take notice of Rook sitting in an oversized chair in the corner of the room, his elbows resting on his knees with both hands wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle between his legs, his eyes scoping out your naked frame. “What the hell is going on?” You look quizzically between Colson and Rook while clutching a pillow over your exposed body.

Colson looks proud of himself, smirking as he watches your face morph through a series of reds, settling on the brightest. If there was one thing stronger than Colson’s jealousy it was his humiliation kink. He loved the way you blushed and got all shy and flustered whenever you got embarrassed, and he couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing for you than one of his best friends seeing your most intimate areas… and perhaps even touching them — with your permission of course.

“Is someone gonna answer me, what’s going on?” You repeat.

“Well I figured with all the times I’ve caught you checking out Rook I’d give you the opportunity to fuck him.” Colson answers nonchalantly.

“Colson I thought we established I was only checking him out to make you jealous so you’d be more rough with me,” you remind him. ‘Ok maybe the use of the word ‘only’ was stretching the truth a bit,’ you think to yourself. You know damn well that wasn’t the only reason. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Rook attractive. “That’s why I’m punished, ‘no dick for a month’ remember?”

“That’s not what I said — I said you’re not getting MY dick for a month. You’re welcome to have Rooks….while I watch of course,” he smirks.

As if that was his cue, Rook stands and walks over towards you. He places his half drunken beer on the nightstand and takes a seat at the foot of the bed.

You swear your heart stops beating for a full ten seconds before you can form words. “Have you gone insane!? You want me to fuck Rook...while you watch?” You question in shock, certain he has lost his damn mind.

“Well, I mean, you’re free to say no… but let’s be honest, we both know that you won’t,” Colson sits on the bed next to you and snatches the pillow covering you from your grasp. “Just look at that pussy, glistening!” He prys your legs open to show Rook just how much the whole idea already has you absolutely dripping. “Now does this look like the pussy of a girl who’s about to say no?” he runs a finger through your slick folds gathering your arosal and turns to Rook who just bites his lip and shakes his head.

There’s no hiding the fact that you want this, you’re more shocked at how into it Colson seems, but he’s right, you certainly weren’t gonna say no.

“Don’t be shy, come have a taste Rookie,” Colson taunts holding out his glossed finger. Rook moves further up the bed, opposite colson, one boy now on each side of you. He leans in and extends his tongue curling it around the silken thread of your excitement stringing from Colson’s finger, and pulls it into his mouth.

“Whatcha think bro, how she taste?”

“Mmmm, fuck! Amazing actually!” Rook exclaims, smacking his tongue against his lips, savoring your essence. “No word of a lie bro, some of the best pussy I’ve ever tasted, ya lucky bastard.”

“Yeah?” Colson’s chuckles at his enthusiasm. “Well help me get her warmed up a little, then she’s all yours,” he says gently stroking your clit. “Although she clearly doesn’t need it,” he jokes, amused by how wet you are. “But something tells me she’ll enjoy both of us playing with her for a bit. Ain’t that right baby?” He smirks, looking at you.

“Please,” you squirm under Colson’s touch and the anticipation of Rooks.

Slowly Rook begins trailing the tips of his fingers up your inner thigh, inching closer to where to want it most before finally joining Colson’s. They join forces , sandwiching your clit between both of their fingertips as they work you methodically.

“Oh, fuck,” your voice shakes, a cocktail of nerves and pleasure coursing through you. As good as it feels and as much as you want it , you can’t help but be a little anxious, it’s been a long time since anyone but Colson has seen you naked never mind touching you like this. “You two are gonna be the death of me,” you moan breathily arching your back up off the bed.

“Relax slut, this just the beginning” Colson leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your nipples as he glides his fingers down to your entrance. He easily slips in two of them, the cool metal of his rings bumping against your warm heat with every curl of his fingers; Rook now having solo reign over your clit. Colson’s free hand grips your breast, his thumb and forefinger tugging at your nipple, before taking it into his mouth. Rook follows suit attaching his mouth to your opposite breast, making sure to leave soft violet markings in his wake, claiming you, if only for the night.

“Alright, I’ll let you take over from here,” Colson says to Rook, slipping his fingers out of you. “Be a good girl for Rook,” he grips your chin smearing your juices along your jawline before retreating to the oversized chair in the corner, where he begins palming himself through his jeans. And like a shark to blood, Rook is drawn to your scent, his mouth moving up your chest, and neck, devouring your slick remnants with open mouthed kisses, while he continues to massage the sweet spot between your thighs.

“You taste so good,” he smiles against your mouth before kissing you. His tongue prods at your lips , begging for entrance. You part your pout welcoming him inside; your tongues beginning a do-si-do. He feels so foreign in your mouth; taboo in the best way.

“Yeah?” You break the kiss. “Why don’t you taste it straight from the source,” you say seductively.

“Yes ma’am. Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Rook smirks before disappearing between your thighs.

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Colson chides from the corner of the room, freeing himself from the confines of his bulging jeans. Slowly, he strokes himself in rhythm with Rooks tongue fucking in and out of you, watching as he gathers your sweetness on his tastebuds.

“Mmmmm, God—“ Rook huffs in unbelievable enjoyment against your core, before attaching his lips snugly around your clit, providing it with gentle pulsating suction. It’s different than you’re used to — Kells being more of the rapid tongue flicking type— but damn, if it doesn’t feel equally as good.

“Uhh, yes! Just like that, Rook. Don’t stop!” You exclaim in pleasure; one hand gripping the sheets, the other the back of Rooks neck.

Hearing you say Rook’s name like that has Colson squeezing his cock harder and faster, his jealousy unintentionally tightening his grip. He’s enjoying watching you be pleasured but can’t curb feeling possessive, in fear that perhaps you’re enjoying this a little TOO much.

“I still... Mmm...can’t… get over… how good you taste,” Rook speaks between open-mouth kisses to your tenderness. “I swear I could eat you as my last meal,”

“Dawg, keep talking to my fucking girl like that and it WILL be your last meal,” Colson half jokes, his jealousy peaking for sure — now beating his dick as if it were Rook. “How ‘bout you just shut up and fuck her now, before I change my mind.”

“Ready?” Rook questions with a smirk ,from between your thighs.

“Ready!” You squirm impatiently, already missing the contact of his tongue .

Quickly, Rook strips off his leather vest and other clothing until he’s completely naked. Just as he’s about to get settled between your legs Colson pipes up again from the corner.

“Baby I want you to ride him, lemme see those titties and ass bounce for me while you fuck yourself on his dick.”

“Mmmm hell yeah! I wanna see too,” Rook says excitedly, moving to lay on his back; arms behind his head.

“You’re pushing it Rook!” Colson warns.

“Baby, chill,” you giggle at how flustered Colson’s getting. “I know this pussy only belongs to you,” you turn facing him, spreading yourself open. Colson groans at the sight, his eyes momentarily slipping shut as he tries not to bust right there. “Besides—,” you smirk. “This was your idea.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah C’mon… less talking, more fucking,” Colson orders.

You climb over Rook who’s waiting with cock in hand pointed towards the heavens and squat over him, hovering just above the tip before sinking down to the hilt with a moan. You push back up, and come down fast, your skin echoing off Rooks with a slap.

“Ugh fuck!,” Rook sits halfway up to mouth at your breasts and neck as you continue to bounce in his lap.

You turn your head back slightly to watch Colson, his teeth sunken deep into his bottom lip, eyes so intensely glued to every roll of your hips, and his hips thrusting up to fuck into his own palm. You turn back to Rook and pick up the pace riding him harder and faster knowing Colson’s close to finishing. You don’t know what burns more the desire inside of you or your thighs, but you don’t stop, determined to make both men and yourself cum at any moment now.

“Oh, Rook!” You cry out with your head thrown back and hands planted firmly on his tattooed chest. You’re so so close.

“Ahww, shit, you gonna cum?” Rook questions out of breath. “Me too.”

Just then the hotel door clicks open “Hey, Rook have you seen Kel— WHAT THE FUCK!!” Exclaims Slim completely caught off guard by what he’s seeing, bringing you and Rook to a halt. “Girl, I know you think it’s cute to make Kells jealous and shit so he’ll choke or whatever crazy shit you’re into but you took it took it too far this time, cuz Kells about to choke both you to DEATH when he finds out.”

“Yo! Why the fuck does everyone keep talking when I’m tryna cum?” Colson yells annoyed and on the edge from the corner of the room.

“Kells???” Slim questions peering around the door. “Da fuck is going on in here? Ya know what, second thought, I don’t wanna know. I— I’m just… I’m just gonna go,” Slim states in utter shock and confusion as he backs out the door.

“Good idea, try fucking knocking next time maybe? Rook shouts after him.

“Fuck, my legs are killing me!” You huff as soon as you hear the door click shut, shifting your weight onto your knees. Immediately, Rook takes over, snapping his hips up and into you from below.

“Aye, I can’t take this shit no more my hands about to fucking fall off, lemme get in there,” Colson says getting up from the chair and kicking off his jeans and boxers. He tugs his shirt over his head and climbs behind you on the bed. He spits in his hand ,coating his cock with his saliva, then brings the tip to the only hole not currently occupied: your ass. You’re no stranger to anal; it is Colson’s favorite afterall. You welcome the penetrating stretch as he pushes in. It’s slightly awkward at first as the boys figure out and establish a rhythm that works for all three of you. Their cocks pound in and out of you in unison; one in each hole, providing you with the most pleasurable, satisfying fullness. “Unh, baby so fucking good for us. Taking it so well,” Colson praises you through gritted teeth . “You like being a little whore for us like this, huh? Rook fucking your pussy while I fuck this ass?” He asks crudely with a hardy slap to your backside.

“I fucking love it — YES! Treat me like a fucking whore!” You exclaim in wild passion, as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.

“Oh we’ll treat you like a whore alright!” Colson speaks through his groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair using it as leverage to pound into you harder.

With your head yanked back in Colson’s grasp, Rook takes advantage of the unoccupied column of flesh above him, wrapping his hand tightly around your throat. The way both boys have you feeling like a used plaything has you cumming in seconds, riding out wave after wave. The noise they make as you clench around them both is like heaven; Rook’s slightly louder and high pitched than Colson’s deep throaty rumble. They cum almost in perfect time with eachother; with Colson just a few seconds sooner, filling your ass with his warmth, as Rook pulls out, busting his load up onto your stomach. The three of you collapse into a sticky sweaty mess, both boys rolling to your sides; the air thick with heavy breathing and the smell of sex.

The way Rook looks completely spent and fucked out of his mind is hilariously adorable; still trying desperately to catch his breath, his leg visibly twitching and shaking and his hand running through his sweaty hair with a ‘did that really just happen?’ expression on his face .

“You ok there buddy?” Colson’s laughs, reaching over you to give Rook’s arm a tap with the back of his hand. Colson’s used to having crazy sex with you by now.

“Umm ...I think so.” He releases a long winded breath followed by a brief chuckle.

“You know what my favorite part about this was?” You turn to Colson. “I broke you!!” You tease.”Not only did I get Rook’s dick but I got yours too! Slim was right when he said you wouldn’t last through my punishment with your sex drive!”

“For the record, I said you weren’t gonna get my dick in your PUSSY, for a month. Now correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t that your ass I just fucked? Nice try, you’re still punished.”

*******

Tag list: @dannyboy-trash (won’t let me tag you) , @famousobservationfan @blxxdyvalentine19xx

[commonwealthoccurences]

If It's A War You Want

Request: Idea: Sole at the end of Blind Betrayal threatening "You lay one hand on Danse, and you start a war with me!" Can't trust Bethany Esda to write a proper conclusion for my boy Danse, so I trust u cuz ur writing slaps.

Word Count: 2,2027

Warnings: Threats, canon typical violence mentions

It was never supposed to turn out like this.

Sole hadn’t exactly come to love the Brotherhood’s ideology, specifically surrounding their opinions on synths, but it was a means to an end. It was messy, and at times downright infuriating. But Sole never intended to go face to face with them; the priority was the Institute. Once they were out of the picture, Sole intended to enjoy what was considered retirement in the Wasteland, and take up the role of a simple farmer.

Everything shifted once Elder Maxson told them about Danse and then ordered them to kill him. They couldn’t even think to react, to lash out in astonishment or in disgust. They were whisked away and before they knew it, they were being told his location by Scribe Haylen, and off they went. On an assassination mission for one of the people they cared about most in the Wasteland.

Of course, that was never going to happen. The walk to his location left them a lot of time to think. To come up with a plan, specifically. First, they wanted to hear his side of the story. It didn’t matter whether or not he was a synth, but they couldn’t imagine what he was going through, the stress, the betrayal, the possible resentment. Then, they would get him out. Wherever he wanted to go, they would get him there safely.

There would always be a place for him in Sanctuary. If it appealed, the Railroad could do what they did best, though they doubted he would want to lose what little he had left of his identity. Whatever Danse needed, they were there.

Before long, they were shooting down the turrets outside of the bunker Scribe Haylen said they would find him in, and they crept in, gun held in a tight grip by their side. Sole wasn’t sure what state of mind he’d be in. Whether or not he’d be defensive, whether or not he expected an enemy instead of a friend. He was smart. Maybe he expected Elder Maxson to test them the way he was, to send them after him to prove the loyalty Danse knew had wavered the very first day they stepped on the Prydwen.

There was water dripping from the ceiling, a leak of some sort made obvious from the heavy rains. The incessant dripping grew more and more irritating as Sole took careful steps through the damp hallways, jaw clenched, boots barely making a sound. It was a break in the structure of the wall that opened up to the end of their journey. Carefully, they straightened up, and stepped through the crumbled wall. “Danse?” Sole asked, cautious. They raised their hands on either side of their head in an attempt to appear non threatening.

But when Danse turned around, it was apparent he wasn’t going to make any attempt to defend himself. His gun was across the room, bullets scattered on the floor, magazine a few feet away. “Danse?” They repeated, tone softer, as they holstered their weapon.

“If you’re here to kill me, get it over with. Please.”

“Danse, I’m not here to kill you.”

He laughed, but there was no humor to his tone. “You should be. There’s no way you made it here without Maxson finding out, and if you’re disobeying direct orders….”

“I don’t give a damn about his orders, Danse. You know that.”

Danse scoffed. Yeah, he knew that. They had never been great at taking orders from anyone in the Brotherhood, until he asked them himself. It was obvious where their loyalties lied, and maybe he was selfish, but he had been okay with that. Now? Now, their misguided trust was only going to put them in danger. He knew that if they didn’t take back his holotags, they would be the next to fall. It was the way the Brotherhood worked. He had been a cog in their machine, after all; he knew better than anyone.

He turned away. It was nearly unbearable to look at them, at the hope they had represented for him in the year that they had been around, and the fact that they were looking at him pleadingly, a silent begging for him to go with them, and directly result in their death. “Get it over with, Soldier.”

“I’m not a soldier. Danse. You know I was never one of their soldiers. Don’t make this decision for me, please. It’s hard enough.”

Maybe if he begged them, they would go through with it, and they’d be safe. Of course, Danse didn’t want to die, if the loss of his life even counted as death, considering what had been discovered. But between the options of him living just a moment longer with the hope that he could return to some semblance of normal only for both of them to die, or for him to die for Sole to live, Danse would not hesitate in choosing them every time.

The drip hadn’t gone away. It drove at Sole’s patience as they stood there in silence, waiting for Danse to come to his senses. Or maybe it was them who needed sense, the sense to just move, to grab Danse and drag him away where no one could hurt him again. They nearly fully considered it when he spoke. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

They wanted to laugh, but instead, sucked in a deep breath and tapped their fingers against their thigh. “Have you met me?”

Danse nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He turned and looked at them. “It was a blessing in disguise. More than I knew, in the beginning.”

They found themself clenching their jaw tighter in an attempt to suppress the urge to cry. “Danse, let’s go. We can go back to Sanctuary and figure this all out. You don’t have to stay here and be alone in this miserable ass bunker.”

“Are you sure?”

“Danse, please. Let’s go home.”

It would be a long process, of course. To get him settled in Sanctuary, into a civilian lifestyle, without all the heavy-duty armor and the rigid structure to keep him firmly in place. But he would figure it out, Sole knew; he was much more resilient than he’d ever given himself credit for. They held out their hand and placed it on his shoulder when he stepped forward.

They guided him over to his weapon and loaded it for him before placing it firmly in his hands. “You still need to defend yourself.” The double-meaning of their words hung in the air between them as Danse stared them down. He nodded choppily.

The walk out of the bunker seemed much shorter than the trip in, and to Sole’s relief, they put distance between them and the dripping leak faster than they expected. As soon as they were relieved from one pressure, the next appeared in front of them. Through the thick rain, they could see the shadow of a familiar figure, one dressed in an oversized coat that they had thought many times would go for a high price at Myrna’s. “We don’t have to do this, Maxson.” They had to raise their voice to be heard over the pounding rain.

“You had orders, Soldier. Explain yourself, or I end this now.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. And I’m not your soldier.”

Sole could feel the rage radiating off Maxson. The vastness of his ego must’ve taken a dent from being so blatantly disrespected. “Sole, he’s right.” Danse piped up from over their shoulder, not loud enough to be heard by the leader of the Brotherhood, but clearly heard by Sole. They shook their head and raised a hand, clearly signalling him to be quiet. “See, Maxson. I’m not as stupid as you think I am. I didn’t come out here blind. I knew you were testing me.”

They took a step forward, despite the fact that they felt adrenaline and anxiety thrumming in their chest. God knows the rain wasn’t helping, with the way they had to squint to be sure they had an eye on Maxson’s weapon. “I didn’t leave straight away. I have help, Elder, and I don’t take risks without insurance. I’m sure once you return to the Prydwen, after being unsuccessful in locating both Danse and I, that you’ll find many hidden explosive charges located throughout your beloved airship.”

Danse’s sharp intake of breath was barely audible, and they hoped he didn’t make his surprise too obvious. Of course, they were lying through their teeth; they hadn’t had time to even think before they were being ushered out of the Prydwen on their mission. But Maxson didn’t know that. He had simply sat back in his chair and expected them to clean up a mess that didn’t even exist.

“You’re bluffing.” Maxson called back.

“Do you really want to find out? You lay a single hand on Danse, and you’ll start a war with me. With me and the Minutemen, and while you may have protocols and guidelines, know that I will stop at nothing if something happens to someone I care for.”

Silence. If there was anything Maxson cared about more than being respected, it was the Brotherhood. If what they had said was true, they could turn the entire Eastern branch of the Brotherhood into gory, scrap metal ridden confetti and then follow up with their own, albeit small, army if there were any survivors. They shifted their grip on their weapon and raised their chin; this was the moment of truth. Would they get away with their companion in a nerve wracking scrape, or would they die for their loyalties?

Their heart thudded, even when Maxson lowered his weapon and took a half step backwards. The pressure was off, ever so slightly. “Go. You can return to wherever you came from, but if either of you are seen again-”

Maxson didn’t have to finish. The pair knew exactly how little they had as an advantage, and they were lucky to get as far as they did. Sole managed to not burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation and instead gave him a sharp nod before their hand returned to Danse’s shoulder, and they began their departure to Sanctuary.

The first half of their journey was silent. Each was lost in their own thoughts about the situation, about what their futures may look like now that Sole had threatened war against one of the more powerful Commonwealth presences. Danse’s footsteps faltered momentarily just as they made it to Quincy. “Were you- did you actually have the means to blow up the Prydwen?”

Sole, overwhelmed with the confrontation of what they had said, burst out laughing. “God, no, Danse! But I had to think of something. If I didn’t have any leverage we would’ve ended up as ghoul feed.”

Danse frowned. “I told you you should’ve-”

“I know what you said, and it was the worst idea you’ve ever had. Try not to top it in the future, would you?”

The humor fell flat, Danse’s expression barely illuminated by the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon. “Look, Danse. I made my choice, there’s no going back, and even if there was, I wouldn’t change my mind. Even if I couldn’t blow up the Prydwen at that moment, I was serious. I would’ve started a war that rivaled the Great War. I still will, if he sends anyone after you.”

“Sole, you can’t possibly mean that.”

Whatever semblance of humor fell from their demeanor. They closed the gap between them and Danse and looked him in the eye. “I know that the Brotherhood may have made you feel otherwise, but you have people that will fight for you, Danse. You have me, and you have the Railroad and Sanctuary now. And it might be hard to believe, but I’ll spend every day proving it to you. Do you understand?”

Danse swallowed. The nod he gave them was barely visible. Stunned. They gave him a weak smile and brushed a strand of his hair away from his eyes. “Let’s go home, Danse.”

[lokislastlove]

Best Laid Plans (Fluffy Bucky x Reader) p3

Summary: Bucky is determined to woo you properly, no matter how rusty he is at dating these days.

Warnings: Some smut at the end, oral (fr), Bucky has bad luck, but we love him anyway. 18+ only please.

This is my first attempt at Fluff, it is not my strength, to say the least, so by all means ignore this. @saiyanprincessswanie I wrote this for you, I hope you like it and with any luck maybe it brings a tiny smile to your face when you need it. 💕 Also remember this is fiction, I know Bucky’s arm is fancy as hell and has no flaws.

Chapter 3 -

🌹 The Third Date 🌹

The office is abuzz with rumors of your new romance. For obvious reasons Pepper never shuns coworkers dating, but does caution that she expects everyone to remain professional regardless of the outcome. Bucky is one of the most sought after bachelors in the building so naturally people notice when he fixes his attention on you. For the two days following your fruit-filled frolic in the hills Bucky is constantly around. He brings you coffee, flowers by the dozen every day, saves you a seat during the meetings, cooks you lunch and even brings Kal in to see you.

“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. You willing to give me that second chance, tomorrow?” Bucky bursts into your office an hour before you leave Friday evening.

You gasp as the door slams against the wall and he cringes, “uh, sure. I’m free tomorrow. Should I just go ahead and wear my yoga pants?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And no. I let Steve pick the date idea this time. Just don’t wear anything that you don’t want getting a little dirty,” he winks.

You let out a sigh, “wouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what we’re doing?”

“That’s no fun, Angel.”

——

The next morning you wake up to a text from Bucky, just like you have every morning since your first date.

Good Morning, Beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. I’ll pick you up at 11am. 😀

Bucky has managed to make waking up a highlight of your day, something you never thought possible. Plus you got him to start using emojis, which Steve claims he will never forgive you for.

You choose some dark wash jeans and a V-neck t-shirt with a jacket and boots. Stylish but casual, you feel good, excited to find out what adventure Bucky will be dragging you into this time.

Your phone dings as you race out the front door and gulp when you see the bike again. God he looks good with it though, his light brown leather jacket highlights his olive skin and his dimpled smile has you swooning as you reach him. Determined to get a hang of this motorcycle thing you jump on back and cling to Bucky with a bit more confidence today.

Bucky reigns in his speed this time, and you find yourself enjoying the rush of the wind on your face and the warmth of him in your arms. To your shock Bucky leads you to a ceramic shop not far from Avengers tower, specifically for couples pottery class.

“Steve assures me that this is supposed to be fun and romantic,” Bucky says as you find yourself sitting next to him on a dirty stool with a spinning round table in front of you.

“Steve hasn’t been watching old romance movies again, has he?”

Bucky squints at you, “Actually, yeah but he said it had ghosts in it, and I got enough of those.”

You grab his hand and give it a squeeze before taking a deep breath, “Ok, let’s do this!”

It takes about a minute to realize what a terrible idea this is as Bucky curses under his breath and his arm starts making strange whirling noises.

“Oh shit, uh is clay good for your arm?” You ask, nodding at the way the plates of his metal arm seems to twitch and groan as the wet clay slide and congeal between them as they shift.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses as he shakes out his metal arm and you grimace at the worrisome noise it makes before it stops moving all together.

“Do you want to take it off?” you offer.

Bucky looks frustrated with a hint of panic as he sits there contemplating the best move. He still isn’t very comfortable going without his arm in public.

“Or we could just decide not to take Steve’s dating advice anymore and go back to the tower and get cleaned up?” You laugh and bump him with your elbow.

He scoffs out a laugh, “yeah. You know I used to be the one that was good at this stuff, I was the charming one who helped get Steve a date.”

“Oh is that so? Well I think you’re doing better than you think you are,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, now come on Casanova,” you stand and wipe your hands on the towel nearby.

You can’t help but laugh as you follow him out the door, looking at the light gleam off the metal that isn’t covered in clay.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just… gonna be hard to convince me you’re not a complete mess after this one.”

——

You could tell Bucky’s confidence had taken a major hit, well three major hits to be honest. And while he constantly berated himself for everything that went wrong, you couldn’t help but love him even more with each blunder. And when he doesn’t insist you give him another shot after that disastrous pottery date, you seek out Steve’s advice.

“Do you think I should try to make a move? Ask him on a date maybe? Or is that insulting to … men from your era,” you finish awkwardly.

Steve laughs softly, “I think Bucky could use a sign that you aren’t willing to give up yet. You should give it a shot, as long as it’s what you want and not just out of pity.”

“Of course it’s not out of pity, you really think I’d do that?” you ask, trying not to get too offended.

“No, doll, of course I don’t. But that’s likely what he’s going to think.” He placates and gives you a knowing look before walking out of your office.

You push back your shoulders and pull out your phone to text Bucky.

Hey if you’re free tonight you should come over to my place. Maybe around 8pm? No dress code. 😘

🌹 The Fourth Date 🌹

Bucky arrives at 7:50pm that evening and you push the buzzer to let him in. You leave the door cracked for him and finish the final touches.

“Angel?” He calls as he knocks and you hear the door creak open. “Uh, hello?” His voice falters as he closes the door behind him and takes in the candles neatly arranged along a path of rose petals.

You hear him remove his heavy boots and call your name as he follows the path further into your apartment and closer to where you’re waiting for him. You shift nervously on your feet as you wait with baited breath for him to appear around the corner.

“Angel, what’s going..” His voice gets caught in his throat as he stands in your doorway and sees you waiting for him.

You’re wearing a simple nightgown, a silky robe and stockings. The thin straps and sleek material drape softly over your curves, enticing enough to make him pause but not overly revealing to be considered scandalous. You didn’t want to be too bold and scare him off too fast, or make yourself appear too desperate.

“Hi, Bucky,” you smile as you watch his pupils dilate and his chest strain against his shirt as his breathing gets heavier.

He clears his throat and his cheeks glow pink as his eyes flick up to meet yours, “uh hey, Angel. Am I dreaming?”

You laugh as you take a few steps toward him and he mirrors you, “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise you with a date, this time. If you’re up for it.”

“Well, I will admit that my interest is quite peaked already.” He jokes, his eyes roving down your body once more as he gently takes your hands and holds them out to get a better look at you.

You giggle and rolls your eyes, “Nothing crazy, just a simple movie date, and I have the perfect set up. Follow me.”

You pull him over to your bedroom window and climb out onto the fire escape, he follows closely, his curiosity climbing with each creaky step.

“You sure this is safe?” He asks as the stairs rattle under his weight.

“No,” you say simply as you reach the top, “but it’s worth it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes in the rooftop space that you’ve meticulously decorated for him. Strings of lights hang on the low rooftop walls. A large air mattress is tucked between the pipes and vents, facing a large projector screen. You made sure to add mountains of fluffy pillows and soft blankets to keep you cozy under the stars.

“This is amazing,” he mutters as he eyes the plate of snacks and bottle of wine waiting on the bed.

“I know, isn’t the view amazing? I’ve always loved it up here, but I didn’t know it had this much potential until now,” you remark as you look out onto the glimmering view of the city skyline.

Bucky’s fingers slip between yours and curl sweetly as he guides you over to the soft bed. He flops down and settles in before opening his arm for you to join him. You grab the remote and the wine and curl up next to him. Drawing up your legs and letting them rest against his muscular thigh.

“I don’t deserve all this,” he utters sadly as he watches you pour the wine.

“Steve said you’d say something stupid like that,” you laugh as he looks stunned for a moment. “So let me just settle this right now.” You take deep breath and let it out with a quiet huff.

“I have been the happiest I’ve ever been since you asked me out on that first date. I look forward to waking up every morning knowing I’ll get to see you and possibly, maybe, do more than just ogle you from afar. Oh don’t look at me like that!” You laugh and smack Bucky’s shoulder when he smirks at you and wiggles his brow.

“I know you think you blew it after our first three dates but all I remember is seeing a passionate man willing to chase down a dog through the mud, even if it meant embarrassing himself. I remember you saving me from a potentially fatal injury, and I remember a man so desperate to impress me that he took advice from Steve Rogers,” you bite your lip as you watch Bucky choke out a laugh at your jab at his best friend.

“You may think all of these moments are flaws, but honestly I wouldn’t want to change a single thing. So let’s just –” Your speech is cut off when Bucky’s hands are suddenly on the side of your face and pull you in for a blazing kiss.

It’s as though you’ve unlocked something in him as he devours you, his tongue trailing across your lip and delving into your mouth when you open for him. You moan as his hands slip down to your neck, his thumbs pressing ever so slightly on your pressure points before he pulls away just enough to kiss and nibble along your jaw. The pleasure and passion is dizzying and you feel your body bend to his will. Your hands grasp at his shirt as he nuzzles and sucks along your neck now, making his way to your clavicle.

The feather pillow braces your head as Bucky lays you down and hovers above you, his body heat warming you as the cool night breeze tickles over each spot he kisses.

“God, Angel, you have no idea how badly I want you right now. How badly I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans against your chest, dragging his nose over the thin material between your breasts.

“Me too,” you breathe.

You push at the lapel of his jacket, trying to urge him to take it off. He sits up, fixing his eyes on you as he slowly strips off his coat and tosses it away, followed by his shirt immediately after. Your breath hitches as you let your fingers lightly glide down his stomach, feeling every ripple of firm muscle under his heated skin.

“Wow, the girls at work would be so jealous right now,” you kid.

“I’m almost offended that you think this is my best feature,” he scoffs gesturing to his stomach, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“By all means, show me more. I did come up here for a show after all,” you tease, tilting your head and biting your lip as you eye the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I think I know how to keep you entertained,” he smirks and lowers himself over you, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he dips lower down your body.

You look down as he pauses over your quivering center and lifts the hem of your dress up to reveal your lace panties. He growls lowly and hooks his finger under them, pulling them quickly to the side. You twitch as he blows lightly over your lips, the cool air hitting the slick arousal already pooling between your thighs. He chuckles as you grip the blankets tightly and he pushes his long thick tongue between your folds, circling your bud at the top. You let out a long moan as his fervor increases, the feeling of his rough tongue dipping into your dripping hole and then back up to flick over your clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

After the past two weeks of the most intense sexual tension you’ve ever experienced it doesn’t take much for him to have you squirming under his touch. Your toes curl and a broken scream echoes over the rooftops as you come on his hungry lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos as your eyes flutter open and see him hovering over your face once more.

Your jaw slackens, pupils blown as you take in his debauched state, his tousled hair, lips and beard glistening with your come. You reach up and pull him down to you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You feel his metal arm fumble with his jeans between you as he pulls out his aching cock. Your eyes flick down in curiosity and you can’t help but gasp as you gaze at his veiny, thick length.

“You see how hard you make me?” He moans, fisting the base of his leaking cock.

You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming desire to let him use you in any way he wants. Your body arching into him and your hips rolling desperately. Your submissive side blooming under his dominant tone.

You whimper and meet his eye, “fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

Your voice is soft and timid, nothing like the typical commanding confidence you have in your daily life, and it sends a thrill through Bucky. He latches onto your thighs and pushes them up toward your chest, exposing your cunt to him and he guides himself inside, moaning freely as your walls stretch to fit him.

“I’m never letting you go. My perfect, Angel.”

[weareallstoriesintheend]

A writing request: Protective Clyde rescues reader from a guy being a little too handsy at the bar. Makes sure reader gets home safely. Super fluff/protective Clyde. Maybe ends with a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek. Annnddd I'm already crying thinking about you writing this

Safe & Sound (Reader x Clyde Logan) 

Note: For you @ladyinwriting18? Anything! 🥰

Part 1 of the Safe & Sound Series. Here is Part 2 & 3

Warnings: Creepy misogynistic bullshit. But also the fluffiest of fluff!  

Words: 2,407 

Smutty Part 2 - HERE

The smell of whiskey breath ghosting over your face made your stomach turn. You were just trying to have a quiet drink at the ‘Duck Tape’ after a long day at work and all of a sudden you were having your evening ruined by some overbearing guy with half a bottle of dutch courage behind him. “Seriously, I’m okay thank you” you said politely, trying to catch the eye of anyone who could get this guy off you. You were not one to be polite to guys that harass you usually but something about this guy’s overly aggressive lean towards you had put you on edge. All sorts of images and scenarios were flashing through your mind and your heart was starting to hammer in your chest. But just like always, just like you were taught from the time you can walk, you played it off by smiling sweetly and being as polite as possible. Annoyingly you’d chosen to sit in the back corner of the bar tonight so you had nowhere to go but past him. Your dress was high up on your thigh and you tried, subtly, to pull it down.   “Nah, come on sweetheart” he said with a smirk, flicking your long hair off your shoulder dragging his fingers purposely along your skin as he does it “Let me buy you a drink” You went to speak again, hoping to brush him off but the panic in you was rising. The feeling of his skin on yours had triggered something within you, you fidgeted your hands over each other on the bar top to stop them trembling. You looked up at him, mustering up that fake sweet smile again, turning to grab your jacket to leave – figuring this was the only way to get him to leave you alone – before you heard someone else speak.

“I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” you heard the deep drawl before you looked up. Clyde Logan was sidling his way across to where you were sat in the corner, the light of the bar was behind him like an aura. Your lumbering guardian angel. Honestly you’d never paid too much attention to him, he was just… Clyde. He’d been around forever except for when you’d returned from college and found out he was off in Iraq. Clyde was just the big grumpy bartender who made a mean vodka cranberry for you every Friday night; the same grumpy bartender who always slipped in an extra lime because he knew you liked it. You gave him a relieved smile as you caught his eye; he instantly turned his attention back to the guy leaning against you as he piped up once more. “Oh come on Clyde, I was only havin’ a bit of fun” he slurred, giving him a hacking laugh before slipping his hand up your arm and onto your shoulder. You instantly tensed up, skin crawling as you could feel the sweat drip from his forehead on your bare shoulder as he propped himself against you. “Oh I’m sure ya are. But see, I don’t think she finds it very fun do you darlin’?” Clyde said looking at you out the corner of his eye and you shook your head. “Now I’m asking ya to leave cause you’re making my customers uncomfortable. I’m damn sure this woman, nice as she is, doesn’t want your hands all over her now does she?” You shook your head again and the guy looked at you, having the audacity to scoff in offense at your response before turning back to Clyde with a grin. But Clyde kept talking “Her shakin’ her head there? That’s her sayin’ no. Got that? So I’m goin’ to ask you one more time to get off her. Look at her… sweet like a little bird she is, she don’t need your big greasy paws all over her like that” The drunk guy sneered and jostled your shoulders in a jovial way, trying to show Clyde how you were at ease you supposed, and you felt his metal watch strap nick your skin at the back of your neck and you hissed softly at the pain. There was a sudden thud and you looked down; Clyde had grabbed the guy’s free arm that was resting on the bar with his flesh hand. He gave it a sudden tug and the guy gave a high-pitched yelp as he was pulled closer to Clyde and off you. “I said… I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” Clyde repeated. You knew sweet, quiet Clyde could have a temper when he needed one; you’d seen him strong-arm a few guys out on their asses a few times over the years. You’d always quietly admired how sturdy and wide his body looked, comfortable and yet solid. So when he did things like that you’d silently sip your drink, pretending you weren’t watching his bicep bulge under his long-sleeved shirt as he grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck or twist their arm behind their back and haul them out the bar. Another bar patron, an older guy, was walking past this little scene and shot the drunk guy a knowing look before giving his input “Now Billy! Logan here’s got two tours under his belt. Show the guy some respect. Make yourself scarce, come on” Clyde shoo’d this new guy off with a tilt of his head and the guy threw his hands up in surrender before walking away. Billy let out another hacking laugh that made you flinch slightly in your seat, it was full of contempt and far too much confidence for a man in his position “What do you think ya goin’ to do Logan? One arm freak ain’t gunna do nothin’ to me!” “I think you’ll find that I still have my arm, just my forearm and hand that’s missin’. I still got enough to break this arm of yours in three places if you don’t leave this beautiful young lady alone” “Oh I see, Little Logan got a crush” Billy grinned cockily at him, spittle was flying out of his mouth as he slurred and it made you cringe as you saw it landing on Clyde’s dark blue shirt. You started to panic again, you didn’t know what Clyde was going to do next and you shot him a look. You didn’t want him to get himself in trouble for you and after everything that had had happened at the speedway you worried that one little thing would get the cops on

his ass again. He caught your panicked expression and gave you a contemplative pout before turning his head back to Billy. He dragged Billy a little closer so he was bent uncomfortably; you could see his belt cutting deep into his side, pressed into him by the wood of the bar. He was flinching and groaning in Clydes strong grasp, when Clyde spoke he was close to his face and his voice was a low, slow and dangerously calm growl “Now somethin’ tell me this precious, good woman here wants me to spare you the pain I was plannin’ on givin’ ya, kind as she is. So I’m goin’ to let you go but if I ever see you so much as look at her again I’ll show you what two tours in Iraq teaches ya. Got it?” You watched as Billy quickly gathered up his jacket that was hanging haphazardly from the chair he had been sitting on and skitter out the bar like a dog with its tail between its legs. Clyde gave you a pouty but satisfied nod before calmly going back to washing glasses.

------------------------------------------------------

The bar was closing in around an hour so Clyde made you another drink, extra lime as always, to steel your nerves. As he walked around, picking up after people and saying goodnight to the stragglers he kept a close eye on you. Always looking back over his shoulder to where you were sat. You smiled every time he looked at you, several times you thought about getting up to leave for the night but he always caught your eye and something in his look made you sip your drink a little slower. Maybe you should stick around.

“He didn’t hurt you or nothing did he?” Clyde said in a low voice so the last people that were leaving couldn’t hear him. Part of you wondered if he was embarrassed to be helping you but then you realised, as he turned his body to literally shield you from the gaze of the rest of the patrons in the bar, he was protecting your privacy. “No Clyde, I’m fine thank you” you smiled, brushing your dress down awkwardly trying to ease the tension. Clyde was a man of few words usually but he made up for it in the intensity of his stare and right now that stare was focussed purely on you. His eyes roamed over you and it made a heat rise up on the back of your neck. He made a grunting noise, almost to himself, and he leaned over the bar to fetch a napkin. He turned the tap on that was over the small bar sink and dipped the napkin under the running water. You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow in question and he nodded to you shoulder. You looked down and noticed a small trail of dried blood running down your shoulder from where the guy had cut you with his watch. “Can I touch ya? Is that okay?” he asked, eyes soft and concerned as he studied you. You nodded shyly and he leant forward and wiped the napkin over your skin gently. You watched his hand carefully, the huge size of it compared to your arm making you bite back a giggle. The cold of his horseshoe ring brushing lightly against your skin made you break into goosebumps. He dabbed and patted to make sure he got it all wiped away “There ya go, all cleaned up” He gave your arm a stroke with his thick knuckles, like he was doubly making sure you were all squared away. Clyde Logan didn’t smile very much, you always thought his signature grumpy pout was actually quite endearing, but in this moment as you gazed up at him he gave you the smallest, most tender smile and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. “You don’t have to take care of me you know?” you whispered, he shook his head as he hopped up on the bar and swung himself back over. “Well of course I do, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to deal with assholes like that!” You gave him a small push to his chest that barely moved him “You stop that!” you laughed, he chuckled as you dipped your head down, letting your hair hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “I only speak the truth darlin’” he said turning to wander over to the cash register “Give me 2 minutes to check todays takins’ and I’ll drive ya home” You scoffed and dropped off your high bar stool onto your feet “You really don’t need to do that, I’m sure that guy is long gone” “Well I can’t just let ya go home on your on now can I? What kind of gentleman would I be if I did that?” he said, you swear you saw him smirk to himself and he pushed his hip into the cash register to close it. He turned to you, swinging his jacket off the hook on the wall and around his shoulders. “Oh Clyde, you’re sweet but I’ll be okay” You stepped forward as you spoke and helped him pull his jacket over his prosthetic arm “Really! I don’t live too far, you know that! It’s only a mile round the corner I can walk it” You flushed at his forwardness and unexpected level of care he was showing you. The heat was rising up on the fact of your neck again and you couldn’t quite decide if it was embarrassment or something a little more intimate. “Nonsense, I won’t hear another word on the matter” he shot you another smile; you quite liked this more relaxed Clyde. There was something about that shy smile that made you accept his offer with a small nod. “Perfect. Let me grab my keys and I’ll drive ya”

------------------------------------------------------

You hopped down out of his truck as he opened the passenger door for you, which he had insisted on doing; he’d even held out his prosthetic arm for you to use to steady yourself as you dropped unsteadily onto your driveway. You’d thanked him quietly and he’d responded “Nothing but the best for the princess” making you giggle and elbow his side jokingly. You both wandered down the driveway in comfortable silence, nothing but crickets and the crunch of gravel beneath both your shoes.

“Safe and sound now aren’t ya” he said, tapping your front door absentmindedly with his knuckle, watching you wrestle your keys out of your bag. You chuckled and nodded, before you could give yourself a second to overthink it you pitched up on your tip toes, pulling him down slightly with your a small hand on his wide shoulder, and placed a timid kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Clyde” you whispered. You giggled slightly as a noticeable pink blush bloomed across his cheeks and he shook his head and stuttered “N-no thanks necessary sweetheart”

You put your key in the lock and he turned to leave with a courteous nod goodnight. As you pushed open the door breathing out a tightly held in sigh, suddenly thankful to be in the comfort of your own home, you heard him say your name. You spun to see him a few feet away from you, rocking on his heels slightly “Come by the bar tomorrow night? I’ll make you another one of those cranberry drinks you like and…I’d errr… I’d love to see ya”

Now it was your turn to blush, you hoped he couldn’t see it in the shadow of your doorway

“I’d love too. See you then” you replied, giving him a small wave before going inside.

Maybe you should have paid more attention to the big grumpy bear behind the bar because it turns out, he’s rather sweet.

[violets-page]

In her arms |R.M|

Rebekah Mikaelson x reader

Word count: 2181

Rebekah and you have been friends forever, but when Damon and Elena try and use you as leverage she confesses her feelings. 

warnings: torture, nothing too extreme or graphically depicted. 

MASTERLIST

God, you hated living in Mystic Falls.

Those were your first thoughts when you woke up alone and in the dark.

Where you were was a mystery but how you got there was plain and simple. You had been kidnapped. But by who was what you still had to wander.

You sat as still as you could trying to listen for voices, footsteps, or hell; even traffic. Not that you could even hear anything over the sound of your own heavy breathing. Your head pounded as you tried to figure out how you ended up here. 

Last you had remembered you had been walking to Bekah’s house. It was only about a mile from where you lived and the sun had shone brightly. Not to mention your mom’s car was in the shop so she had taken yours. 

The last thing you remembered was smiling at the thought of the Mikelson’s trying the spicy pasta you were going to make for them tonight. That and then your head colliding with something hard.

You gave up on listening and started to struggle. Your hands were bound in front of you by a thick rope and your feet bound underneath you. After trying to shift your hands out of the ropes for probably a good 10 minutes you realized that whoever tied them was making sure that you weren’t going anywhere. 

By now all the thoughts had started running through your head. They’re going to kill me. Or worse. I’ll never see my family again. Will they ever find my body. Oh my god oh my god. Rebeckah is waiting for me. If I die… I hope she never has to see my body or hear about what happened. 

By now your hands had brush burn where the rope laid, and your legs had fallen asleep. the old shirt of a gag that they had tied around your mouth was soaked in spit and you could no longer taste the bourbon on it that you could when you first woke up. Not to mention the pains in your stomach from skipping lunch, and now probably dinner. 

Rebekah- god knows why- had become rather insistent in training you on self-defense so you had gotten pretty good at that. She failed, however, to show you how to escape from rope bonds. 

You managed to scoot forward quite a bit. Reaching up towards the door handle you twist it only for it to be locked. Of course. But that didn’t mean it was useless. 

The door handle looked ancient. It was metal with one of those old keyholes. Part of the metal plate jutted out in what looked to be an attempt to yank it off. 

Reaching up you started to rub the ropes against the metal piece hoping to cut it off. Your actions halted before starting again faster at the sudden appearance of footsteps.

Shit shit shit.

When the door opened you fell threw. Not realizing how much you’d been leaning against the door. 

“Damon, we already have her. You don’t need to torture her too.”

You were pushed onto your back by a foot to the stomach.

Your eyes met pale blue ones song and a terrifying smirk.

Damon Salvatore

The only reason you knew who he was was because of the absurd amount of time he spent pestering Bonnie and Rebekah. Who happened to be the few people at Mystic fall high you talked to regularly. 

You recognized the voice scolding Damon as Caroline.

“Oh come on, she’s not gonna come if she thinks her girlfriend is A-okay. We gotta ruff her up a bit.”

Girlfriend?

They definitely had the wrong person

As you made eye contact with Caroline she dared to shoot you a little smile and wave. You just glared at her.

“Alright listen here hun, all you gotta do is scream, cry maybe spill some blond for us then call your dear friend Rebekah over to save you and we can all leave happy. Okay?΅

Your brows furrowed. What do they want with Bekah?

Bekah must have a girlfriend she never told me about. And they must think I’m her. 

Your heart hurt at this realization.  

When you made no move or any attempt to reply he continued on.

“look, we just need Stefan back’

Your reply came out muffled by the gag. Which he promptly (and aggressively) ripped off. You shifted so you were sitting up with your back against the cold wall.

“Bekah doesn't have stefan”

He rolled his eyes at you

“I know that. But Klaus does. Klause doesn’t love anyone but his family, and we couldn’t catch them. Trust me we tried. However, Rebekah loves you, which means she’d do anything to save you even if that meant betraying her brother.”

“Maybe.” Caroline piped up.

“Even if she did she would call the authorities to come and save me. Bekah wouldn’t risk her life to come and get me. Plus I’m not her girlfriend.” 

At this, they all rolled their eyes.

“Trust me she will” Damon scoffed

“Let’s just give this over with” came the voice of Elena. Who had somehow appeared at your side. 

Your eyes went wide at the sight of the needle in your leg before quickly dropping closed. 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

When you awoke again you were in what appeared to be the Salvatore living room. A quick glance down showed that your hands and feet had been bound tightly to a chair.

“Finally she’s up.” Elena grumbled

“Well someone miscalculated the dosage” Damon side-eyed her. 

“Well no one told me she was a human”

Human. There was that word again. You never really understood what they meant. Bekah and her brothers always referred to you as their little human, which implied that they were different. While you didn’t fully understand it, you knew parts of how they were different.

You knew Rebekah and her brothers were all extremely strong and never seemed to get hurt. And you knew from eavesdropping that there were others in the town like them. 

You weren’t scared though. Well, at least not of the Mikelsons. They would never hurt you. Damon and Elena on the other hand….

The earlier stalked towards you with a devilish grin on his face. He reached for your hand and you immediately tried to pull back. Unable to because of the restraints you felt his cold hand engulf yours. 

Right before he broke your finger.

You screamed partially from the shock of seeing your finger bent flat against the back of your hand and the other part from the pain.

It wasn’t until you saw Damon glance back at Elena did you notice that she was recording.

Other hand. Same finger. 

Again you screamed. Louder this time. 

One by one he broke each one. Waiting for your screams to subside before moving on the next. *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

After there were none left to break and your vision was fading in and out from the pain, he leaned in close. 

“Now beg for her”

At first, you didn’t know who he was talking about. But as the tears started to run down your face and all you could think of was the safe embrace of a certain blonde, you knew. But never would you drag her into possible danger. You would rather let him break every bone in your body. 

And it seemed he might.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you mumbled so quietly that you weren't sure if he even heard you or not. Apparently, he did. And boy was that the wrong thing to say.

He motioned to Caroline who handed him a sleek and simple dagger before covering her mouth and turning away.

You hoped you were wrong about what you thought was coming. But when the dagger pierced the skin on your thigh there was no denying it. 

“Bek… “ it had slipped through your lips without you even noticing. Damon however easily caught it.

He removed the dagger and aimed a little lower before plummeting it back in. Your mind rattled as the sound of your screams filled the house.

“BEG FOR HER” but it was too late. You had already passed out

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

“It’s good enough,” Caroline tried to convince the pair. “Just send it to her”.

So they did.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   * 

Rebekah was starting to get worried. You were supposed to be at her house by now for family dinner night. Plus it was your turn to cook. 

She wanted to tell you all about how mad she was at Nik as you played with her hair. She wanted to see you smile as your warm arms wrapped around her with promises that everything would be okay. 

You would have texted her if you were going to be late. Right? 

She let out an audible sigh of relief at the sound of your ringtone coming from her pocket.

Her ease was short-lived when instead of a text she saw a video. Of you. Hurt.

A million thoughts raced through her head as black veins extended from beneath her eyes. 

Before her mind even caught up with her body she was out the door.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

By the time she arrived at the Salvatore house, she thought her dead heart would just about burst out of her ribcage. 

Flinging the door open she ran right to Damon. Steak already in her hand she raised it high above her head

“STOP” she looked over to see Elena holding a knife against y/n’s tear-stricken face.  Her demeanor quickly changed as she let the stake clatter to the floor. Her tight grip on Damon’s shirt, however, remained. 

“If you touch her Elena it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

At the familiar sound of her voice, you couldn't help but let every muscle in your body relax, despite the situation you were in. 

You couldn’t even hold back the words that left your mouth.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

“Beckah.” She heard you sigh in relief. Her heart swelled at the sound of your voice. 

“Here’s how it’s going to go.” Elena spoke with a sudden burst of confidence “Call your brother and get him to bring Stefan back and make him turn back on his emotions. No Stefan. We kill her. Hurt any of us. We kill her. Got it?” 

Rebekah looked back at you. There was no way she could get to you in time, the dagger was already drawing blood from your neck. Shoving Damon back she walked out with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The moment she was out the door she immediately dialed Nik.

“I need you to bring Stefan back.”

His reply was exactly what she had been fretting: “You know I can’t do that bekah.” 

Her hands shook as she tried to keep her voice steady. “Please Nik, they-” breath in breath out. “They took y/n.” 

The line went silent.

“Please please please” she begged as silent sobs wracked her body.

“Wait right there”

* * * * * 

Klaus had a soft spot when it came to anything involving his sister. And if that meant protecting a weak human girl that made her happy then so be it. 

Don’t get him wrong he adored you as well. You came over every Thursday to prepare a new dish from around the world with them. And while he wasn’t as infatuated with you as Kol and Bekah are, he had grown fond. 

He arrived at the Salvatore house hours later to find Bekah curled up on the sidewalk out front. When she looked up he saw that her makeup had been wiped off and her eyes rubbed red. 

As she took note of the lack of a Stefan she stood up. “Where's Stefan?” 

“Don’t worry I'll handle this” he made a move towards the door but Rebekah quickly moved in front of him.

“No Nik you can't, they’ll kill her. You need Stefan, please just go get Stefan.” 

He gripped her shoulders and gave her a slight shake to bring her back to her senses. “Bekah. Don’t forget who you are. Who WE are.” she gave him a nod and they turned towards the house. 

Within moments the pair had knocked out two of the vampires and the third was left cowering far away from y/n.

Becka leaned close so only Elena could hear. 

“If you ever even think about touching her again, I will kill everyone you ever love. For all of eternity,” she smiled and the quaking brunette. 

As soon as the vamps were taken care of Rebekah wasted no time running to your side. Your head felt light and you weren’t sure if you were hallucinating because of the blood loss or if Bekah just snapped Caroline’s neck. You also weren’t so whether she was talking or that was just the ringing in your ears. 

As she undid the ropes you faded in and out of consciousness. But now you were certain you had heard her mumbles clearly

I love you. I love you. I love you. I’m so sorry. I’ll never let you go. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

as she pulled you into her warm embrace you knew you were safe.

And as tears and lips hit your forehead. You knew this would be the end of your friendship.

Pt.2

[kumqu4t]

birthday with the company headcanons!

☆ a birthday gift to two wonderful people, @trxblemaker and @rowandor whose birthdays are on the 13th and 14th respectively!

☆ (platonic!company/reader)

☆ takes place after BOTFA, everybody lived!!

☆ kind of angsty at the beginning but dON’T WORRY THERE IS MUCH COMFORT AND FLUFF TO MAKE UP FOR IT!!!!

☆ target audience- teen reader

☆ (y/bday)= your birthday

☆ (y/n/a)= your new age

you were slowly but surely getting settled into erebor, your new home

shortly after the battle, you found yourself adopted by EVERY MEMBER OF THE COMPANY

you now wore braids with handmade beads in your hair, one for each family

you lived in erebor, obviously

and all the other families, lived in rooms in the same hallway

you spent most of your time exploring

and the company weren’t the only ones you spent time with

dís had taken a liking to you quite fast, proving to be a much appreciated maternal figure in your life

tauriel was like a sister to you. someone you could prank kíli with, but also go to for advice and a listening ear

so basically you never had to worry about being lonely

things had been pretty quiet and uneventful for awhile

until, on one ordinary day, you made the mistake of bringing up your birthday

you were walking aimlessly around erebor, simply exploring and enjoying the view

when kíli bounded up to you, a smile lighting up his face

“company supper coming up! you will be in attendance, right (y/n)?”

“it’ll be great fun,” he continued. “we’re planning to head to the library after and tell stories while enjoying a few drinks.”

“no drinks for you though, little sister,” he added as an afterthought, ruffling your hair playfully

kíli now looked at you expectantly, waiting for your response

“oh that sounds great,” you answered after a pause. “what day is it planned for?”

“(y/bday) at 6:00!” kíli answered

you responded without thinking

“oh that’s my birthday! i’ll be turning (y/n/a). huh! with the quest and the battle and everything it must have slipped my mind! anyways, of course i’ll be coming, i can’t wait!”

you looked at kíli to see him frozen in place, a pained expression on his face

“kíli?”

you waved a hand in front of his face “earth to kíli?”

he jerked to life, flashing you a quick smile that looked more like a grimace

“terribly sorry (y/n), but i must be off! i think i heard uncle calling!”

you stared after him for a few more minutes, feeling confused

you definitely did not hear thorin calling

well that was weird

brushing it off, attributing it to kíli just being kíli, you went about the rest of your day as usual

oddly, you didn’t see much of the company that day, or in the rest of the days following

you didn’t see bilbo, dís, or tauriel either

and you usually spent time with at least one member a day

but now they were nowhere in sight

and if you did see them, they would make an excuse and quickly dash away

so by the end of the week you were feeling a little down

you didn’t know what you had done wrong

and you missed spending time with your family

you wondered if maybe dwarves didn’t celebrate birthdays? but even so, they had never avoided you like this before

some unfortunate thoughts came to you

‘maybe now that the quest is over and i can’t be of service in any way, they don’t care about me anymore? maybe i don’t fit in here in erebor?’

your sadness soon mingled with anger, and your anxiety remained

creating an uncomfortable knot in your stomach and a lump in your throat

what did you do to deserve this? they could at least tell you why

you had saved their sorry butts so many times

and when you saw them again, you planned to kick their sorry butts all the way to next tuesday for avoiding you

the day of the company supper (and your birthday) finally came

and despite your anger and confusion, you still decided to go

for multiple reasons

mostly because you wanted to confront them and ask why you had been ignored all week

and you also heard that bombur was making his famous apple tart with raspberry jam

evening came sooner than you realized

you saw that the clock read 5:45 and readied yourself as fast as possible

you quickly dressed yourself in your favorite outfit, pulled a cardigan over it, and ran a brush through your hair

you rushed down the long halls of erebor, keeping your pace quick

you finally turned the corner and came face to face with what had been dubbed as the “company room,” for all the time they spent in it

you felt your hand shake slightly as you grasped the cool metal handle

slowly, you opened the door, preparing to be met with the high, stone walls and rich velvet furniture

but you opened the door to find... nothing?

you squinted your eyes, trying to see into the pitch black room

“hello,” you called out. “thorin? fíli? kíli? is anyone here?”

all of a sudden, the candles and lanterns were lit, and people jumped out from behind furniture and under tables

“SURPRISE,” they yelled. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY (Y/N)!”

you didn’t say anything for a few seconds

you could only stare, dumbfounded, at the people in front of you

everyone was there. the whole company, including bilbo, dís, and tauriel

“w-what?” you tentatively asked. “what is going on?”

kíli piped up, a large smile on his face

“it’s your birthday party!! don’t you like it? we’ve spent all week planning it!”

you took quite a few seconds to look around the room

it was decorated with streamers made of beautiful fabric, and banners hung from the walls

a large pile of wrapped gifts lay in the corner

and in the center of the room was a huge table with a feast fit for a king

as the clocks on the wall continued to tick, you heard dís mutter “kíli if you got the date wrong i swear to mahal...”

you spoke up, “no, no. he’s right. it is my birthday. but... i don’t understand. you guys did all of this... for me?”

bilbo stepped forward, thumbing his suspenders, “why of course! it’s your birthday! we wouldn’t miss a chance to properly celebrate our girl’s birthday.”

“so you guys weren’t avoiding me all week because you think i don’t belong in erebor?” you asked

the room exploded with yells of anger, confusion, and outrage

“why in durin’s name would you think that?” thorin asked after the chaos died down, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“well you guys were avoiding me all week. i didn’t know what to think.”

dori hurried over to you, draping a blanket around your shoulders and steering you towards the couch.

“yes dear, come this way, and we will explain everything. don’t you worry, sweetling,” he soothed.

everyone gathered to find seats around you

kíli shifted uncomfortably on his feet and bit his lip. “i’m so sorry (y/n)! when i found out your birthday was coming up, i felt terrible that we didn’t know sooner, so i hurried to collect everyone and devise a plan.”

ori interjected, a worried frown on his face, “we were all so excited to plan your party, we must have forgotten to keep you distracted.”

“we meant no harm by it,” fíli added.

“aye,” said thorin. “and about that complete and utter nonsense you were spouting earlier: you belong in erebor just as much as any dwarf here. you are our family. and we wanted to celebrate you today.”

of course, you burst into tears

*cue panicked company*

“oh mahal, what did we do now?”

“i bet thorin said something wrong” “shut up dwalin”

“oh no lass, please don’t cry!”

through your sobs, you somehow found your way over to thorin, seeking cuddles

he scooped you up and sat you gently in his lap

you buried your face in his chest, clutching at his tunic with your hands, allowing his scent of smoke and pine trees to wash over you

his large hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he mumbled assurances

bilbo held and stroked your hand gently

and you felt others reaching out with their own soothing touches

you eventually found yourself at the center of a huge group hug, not that you minded at all

group hugs did seem to be inevitable in this family

through tears, you explained that you were relieved, and so very thankful for the party

you apologized for jumping to conclusions and overreacting, but everyone insisted you had nothing to apologize for

after you eventually calmed down enough, bofur spoke up

“well i think you’ve done enough cryin’ this evenin,’ now haven’t ye’ lass? it is your birthday after all. i say we start the party!”

everyone agreed

as you all found seats at the table, you allowed yourself a moment to admire the spread

bombur had truly outdone himself this time

the table was full of food of all sorts. salted pork, mince pies, all kinds of cheeses, potatoes, biscuits, sausages, meats, and stews.

oh and don’t forget the ale- and lots of it!

you sat and ate until your stomach could handle no more

all the while listening to and telling stories, and laughing as bilbo reprimanded the dwarves’ bad manners

then came dessert

the company insisted to do by “your people’s traditions” and sing you happy birthday.

they were completely off key and didn’t know the tune at all

but it was perfect. it was more than perfect.

you dug into a few small slices of your favorite flavor of cake

fili may or may not have smashed kili’s face into his cake, leading to a wrestling match that had to be broken up by dwalin

after cake, came presents

once you saw all of the boxes, you protested vehemently, insisting you didn’t need all of this

which led into many more speeches preaching that you deserve all of this and more

so with a light blush staining your cheeks, you opened the gifts one by one

they were perfect

- forged by thorin: a sword with various gems emblazoned on the hilt (“so you can properly threaten any suitors you find yourself approached by in the coming months”)

- from bilbo: a handmade handkerchief embroidered with your initials and your favorite flowers (“well this would have come in handy earlier, now wouldn’t it?”)

- from fíli: one of his lucky knives (“see here, you can strap it on your thigh for easy access”)

- from kíli: a poorly knitted bear with one eye sewed on haphazardly (he made it himself, and he tried his best) because you had mentioned missing your stuffed animals before

- from tauriel: miruvor that she acquired from rivendell (for emergency’s- just in case)

- from dís: a quilt with the lonely mountain embroidered on it (“to keep you warm and remind you of home”)

- from balin: a collection of classic dwarven stories in a thick, leather-bound book

- from dwalin: a fluffy fur coat and a pair of gloves (“a wee lass like you will freeze in these winters without proper protection”)

- from ori: a beautiful portrait of yourself

- from nori: hair pins that also function as lock picks (“s’no harm in being careful”)

- from dori: your favorite tea (“a warm cup of tea is both the perfect way to start the day and the perfect way to end the day”)

- from bifur: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, hand picked and arranged by him

- from bofur: an intricate wooden carving of your favorite animal

- from bombur: a bountiful basket of honey cakes, carefully wrapped for future snacking

- from oin: fancy haircare and skincare supplies

- and from gloin: a necklace with a beautiful stone pendant

it was entirely too much, but, as you have come to learn, your family doesn’t do simple

especially when it comes to you

you thanked everyone many times, not knowing how to fully express your gratitude

the night, as kili had promised, followed with many stories and much laughter

and lots of ale

you tried to sneak a sip of thorin’s

AS A JOKE

a joke that he did not find very amusing

you spent the rest of the evening listening to tales of old, your head drooping to rest on tauriel’s shoulder

you recall the night getting darker, the fire slowly burning out, and the laughter becoming quieter

the gentle pressure of a coat being placed on you

and strong arms wrapped around your small frame, pulling you to a warm chest

helping you easily drift off into a peaceful sleep

you woke up in the early morning next day, before the sun had even risen

apparently everyone had become so tired and it was so late that they decided to just sleep in the “company room” for the night

no one had any sense of personal space while they slept not that you minded

you felt arms wrapped around you and draped over your stomach, hands brushing yours, feet propped up on you, and more

all were asleep, save yourself

you sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the others, and took a look around

to soak it all in

to enjoy the moment

snoring dwarves

a hobbit, curled up in a cocoon of blankets

an elf, hugging a pillow close to her chest as she slept

and you, right in the middle of it all

you gave a small smile as you eased yourself back onto the couch

this was peace

this was contentment

this was home

[bnhatrashsammy]

“IT'S THE FUCKING POLICE WE GOTTA GO!”

Idea just struck me from another drabble I read! Would u want to write a lil thing where like Bakugo has an s/o or even just another friend and he's looking for them around the dorm and all of sudden he gets a facetime from chat and it's the bakusquad plus them but they all have gotten scratches n such because they were riding those little kids toys through a store parking lot and then security chases then out as there on the phone? Wouldn't have to be exactly that. Thought this would be funny!

---- @wolfkid22​

Thank you for the lovely request!!

I need some humor to get me back into the swing of things!!!!

tbh this probably isnt v funny but i laughed a bit writing it so hopefully you enjoy :))

Enjoy!

---

The laugh bubbles out from your throat without you even expecting it, the sight of Mina, Denki, Sero and Kiri all in a single shopping cart outside of Target is too much for you.

Sero has managed to fit himself into the baby seat of the cart, Denki is lying on the bottom of the cart, looking all cramped but with a huge smile on his face. Mina and Kiri are both in the main area of the cart, reenacting the scene from the titanic.

“And IIIIIIII will alwayssss, love youuuuu!!!” Sero sings out dramatically, putting his hands over his heart as he leans backwards to watch the two dumbasses.

You try to control your laughter as you walk back up to them, placing your hands on the car and pushing, which took way much more effort than you’ve used in a hot minute, zooming the cart full of idiots along the parking lot.

“(Y/N)! WAIT I'M GONNA FALL-” And now denki is on the ground, laughing while holding his elbow.

A good friend would have stopped to make sure he was okay, however you are his best friend, so of course you change your path to try and run him over with the cart.

“She’s gone mad!” Mina calls out pushing her way to your end of the cart.

“Wee.” Sero pipes in with the most monotone voice as he raises his hands up in his baby seat.

Denki is screaming for his life, but you pretend not to hear it. 

----

Somehow, you’ve managed to spend about half an hour just in the parking lot. 

And who the actual fuck knows how you managed to trade Sero spots and end up in the baby seat.

“This is PAYBACK!” Denki calls out from in front of you before pushing the cart with all of strength, sending you and mina both flying into the parking lot, hitting a curb and flopping through the air and onto the ground.

Although, you are pretty sure you’re hurt, you just fucking laugh like it’s the funniest thing to you.

Mina of course is basically pissing herself with laughter as she’s away from the cart where she had landed.

However, you are still flopped on the ground, them thicc ass thighs (yum), stopping you from leaving your newfound prison. Kiri and Sero are both laughing until they manage to calm down long enough to come over and flip the cart back upright, with you still in it.

“I-” Your own laughter cuts you off, “I can’t get out-”

You try to wiggle out and escape, but alas, you are one stuck dumb bitch currently.

“Holy shit, no way,” Sero giggles out, attempting to lift you from the seat.

You don't budge.

Which is obviously the most hilarious thing to your friends as they all fucking die again, loud wheezing laughter leaving their lips.

Your phone goes off in your pocket, and you calm yourself slightly before seeing it was a text from your lovely boyfriend. Instead of just texting him back, you decide to facetime him, with the biggest grin on your face.

He picks up on the 2nd ring like usual.

“Dumbass where the fuck are you?” His words are immediate, causing you to chuckle a bit. Before you can even reply he speaks up again, “Wait- what the fuck happened to your face? Are you okay?”

Your heart melts at his concern as an embarrassed smile takes over your face, a few giggles coming out, “Uhm, i'm kinda stuck in a shopping cart, and Denki decided to yeet me across the parking lot.”

Mina’s face pops up beside yours, “They were placed in the baby seat, for they are the true baby.” Mina’s face is so serious that it causes you to laugh, along with Denki.

Bakugou looks like he has a small smile for a solid second before he scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Don’t be so childish, you were supposed to be back at the dorms an hour ago so we could study-”

A loud voice yells out, drawing your attention to it.

There are 3 security guards walking towards you, and although they’re barely visible due to how far you are from them, you instantly stuff your phone back in your pocket, turning to Kirishima,.

“IT'S THE FUCKING POLICE WE GOTTA GO!” You yell out, which clearly gets everyone's attention.

Sero and Denki make direct eye contact before absolutely booking it towards to train station, while you struggle to get yourself out of the stupid fucking seat.

“FUCK, YOULL NEVER TAKE ME!” Denki’s voice is heard, getting further away, to which seros laughter also becomes distant. 

You continue to struggle as you send a pleading look to Kiri and Mina, who are both panicking out of their minds.

Kiri scoops Mina up, placing her in the main area of the cart before grabbing the handle and running faster than you’ve ever even heard of.

The yelling of the guards is slowly getting further away as you freak the fuck out in your baby seat, Mina laughing at the top of her lungs.

By the time you finally make it to the train station, you are stuck, Mina is asleep, and Kiri is going on about he has to be the manliest man ever for saving not one, but two, damsels in distress. 

After somehow getting onto the train, everyone still in their prior positions, it takes a few moments before the hilarity  of it all hits you. 

You’re casually chillin (while being stuck of course) in the baby seat of a shopping cart, while being pushed around by the manliest red head who cannot stop grinning, with a pink alien fast asleep in the cart.

What the fuckoli broski.

So of course you burst out laughing again.

It doesn’t really hit you how embarrassing everything was until you are being pushed/snuck into the 1A dorms, Mina awake and now standing on the foot of the cart so she doesn’t have to walk, casually talking with Kiri.

The laughter of the common room as you first rolled in will stick with you for years.

Even more so when Bakugou walked up to you, arms crossed in disappointment as he looked you over before he too burst out laughing.

Yeah, you couldn’t forget that.

The only thing you wish to forget is Aizawa angrily trying to free you from your metal prison, before he just broke the fucking thing and proceeded to tell you off. 

All while Denki and Sero couldn’t stop laughing so hard that they weren’t even making sounds.

It was worth having Katsuki extra cuddly afterwards, despite him saying that he didn’t miss you, he just knew you were doing some dumb shit again. 

Plus being able to see the smile on Katsu’s face as you relayed some of the funniest moments while he cleaned up your scrapes for you.. That was well worth it.

[bleedingvengnce]

Life’s More Fun When You’re High | JJ Maybank

Summary: You’re a Kook wanting to see what it’s like to break the rules, and JJ knows exactly how to do that.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: Drug use, swearing, and smut;)

A/N: I miss smoking, and oh god, what I would give to get high with JJ, holy shit.

Growing up in the Figure Eight, you were taught to be the prissy posh girl every Kook is supposed to be. Dress nice, use intelligent vocabulary, achieve the highest grades, don’t get into trouble, and especially don’t get involved with Pogues. You were pristine, pure, innocent. Your life was filled with your studies, volleyball practice directly afterwards, time spent with family, organizing volunteering projects, boating, and very little else. It was boring. Or, a better word, mundane. Your daily routine held nothing new, nothing excited, and you craved more. You craved adrenaline, exhilaration, and most of all, you were just desperate for your life to be different. To be anything than the girl you are, in the average family of yours, in the dull place you lived. To be a Pogue.

Each and ever person you knew in the Figure Eight despised those who lived in the Cut. They were looked down upon, as though their lives meant less than the Kooks. You were born hating them. But you, you didn’t hate them because they were below you, but you despised the freedoms they held. Oh the fun they have. They broke the rules so much, it was as though they don’t have any to begin with. And maybe they don’t. Maybe they do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want. Oh god, how much you wanted that. What you would do to be able to experience Pogue life just once. 

Well, what you would do is seek out a Pogue to help you with your wants and desires. And that Pogue was JJ Maybank. Honestly, you don’t know why your choice was JJ. You could’ve picked from the sweet John B, who worked for your close friends the Cameron’s, the intelligent Pope who once tutored you ages ago, or literally any other Pogue that existed. Maybe it was because he was the most reckless of them all. Or maybe it was because you held a massive school girl crush on the blonde haired boy since the first time your eyes laid upon him.

So, after miraculously getting his phone number from asking around, you rung him up, putting on the sweetest voice you could muster as you practically begged for him to scoop you up from your perfect little life and take you to the Cut, to a place where you could finally experience life. He was, shocked, to say the least, not expecting to hear the Kook princess on the other end asking for him to pick her up from her pretty Kook house. But, he did. He didn’t know why. He loathed the Kooks, and everything about them. He hated their privileged attitudes, their clean cut clothes, and the money that each and everyone of them seemed to be swimming in. He wanted nothing to do with any of them, so why was he so eager to hop in the Pogue van and venture to that side of the island. Maybe it was the massive school boy crush on the beautiful girl since the first time he laid eyes on you.

Your phone chimed harshly, echoing throughout your barren room, the screen alit against the pressing darkness. 

‘Here’ Was splayed across the luminescent screen. 

You let out a shaky breath, your gaze now cast towards the window in you room, wide and agape, calling for you to leap out of it, and into the arms of freedom. You could see the sickly moon hanging lazily in the inky sky, signaling the late hours of the night. You didn’t want to have to deal with an interrogation from you parents as to where you were going, what were you doing, who were you going with, and much more. You just wanted to escape easily and effortlessly into the welcoming night air. And so you did. 

“You can do this, Y/N,” You whispered, reassuring yourself as you approached the window, hands placed on the window sill as your head dove out and into the breezy, open air. 

Here goes nothing. And then, you leaped out of it, bare feet hitting the dirt covered ground. In this moment, you were thankful for living on the first floor of your enormous house. You turned away from the comforting clutches of your home, trekking to JJ’s vehicle that hummed mechanically nearby. It was a worn down rusted metal van. You could see the familiar glint of blonde hair through the window as you padded closer, hand wrapping around the door handle to swing it open.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” The boy questioned, not even letting you get situated inside before he began berating you.

“I had to make sure everyone asleep first,” You retorted, pulling the seatbelt across your body as you relaxed into the cloth covered seat.

You could see the boy placed in the drivers seat shake his head slightly as the van lurched forward, sputtering along the road now. You tucked your trembling hands under neath your thighs, an awkward silence hovering over the two of you.

“So, where are we going?” You attempted to cut the heavy tension, gaze fluttering to the soundless boy beside you.

“Somewhere,” Was all he uttered out vaguely, his eyes focused on the dim road.

“Ok... What are we going to do?” You didn’t like the unpleasant quiet, preferring to just interrogate the poor boy instead.

“Well you’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” JJ peered over at you briefly, taking in your figure.

You were adorned in unusual attire, clad in an oversized graphic tee and heather grey soffe shorts underneath, contrasting your usual well ironed and expensive clothes. You were a Pogue tonight, so you decided it would best if you looked the part as well. JJ adored this very of you much more than your normal Kook garments.

“We’re here,” His words shook you from your thoughts, noting the abandoned lot the van was now placed in, your eyes gazing out upon the rolling dunes that caressed the vision of the ocean.

“So, what is it exactly that we are going to do here?” You cocked your head as you turned your stare towards him, wondering what he had in store for the two of you.

“Hop in the back and you’ll find out.” He gestured towards the back of the van, motioning for you to scale the middle console into the open space.

“Ladies first, go on.” He attempted to hurry you along, you looking at him incredulously before uttering an annoyed, ‘fine’.

You clumsily leaned over the console, hauling yourself over it with not a single ounce of grace as you tumbled onto the floor of the back of the van. JJ couldn’t help the gaze that was glued to your ass thrown in his face as you climbed into the back. After you finally situated yourself on the floor, JJ managed getting into the back with ease, making your face flush with embarrassment at how klutzy you appeared to be.

“Since you left me in ramblings on the phone, you are going to have to go with what I prepared, alright?” JJ sat criss cross apple sauce on a tossed out blanket he must’ve previously placed down for the two of you.

“Ok.” You lifted your shoulders in a small shrug, not knowing what you were agreeing to in that moment but being completely open to the experience you were about to receive from this beautiful blonde boy.

“Good,” He nodded, snatching out a small metal contained from behind him.

He cracked it open, pulling out a couple glass looking devices, a couple pre-rolled cigarettes of sorts, and lastly to be set in front of you was a plastic bag with green vegetation captured inside.

“Weed?” You squeaked out at the sight of the illicit drug placed between the two of you. 

“Yes, Y/N. Weed.” He confirmed.

“I was more thinking something like a shot of alcohol, or something, not illegal drugs!” You could barely bring yourself to say the word, gulping at the sight of it before you, only ever seeing it in pictures. 

“Oh, relax. Weed isn’t like hard drugs like coke or molly. It’s basically legalized in the U.S. Plus, life is so much more fun when you’re high.” He tossed a wink in your direction, trying to ease some of the anxiety you’re holding with a joke.

After a moment of consideration, you tilted your head down in a nod, convincing yourself that this is exactly what you wanted. To break the rules and have fun.

“Ok, ok, fine. So, what is all of this.” Your eyes flickered through each thing sat in front of you.

“Well, I’m going to give you a crash course in all things weed, which is my favorite topic of all, other than surfing of course. So this,” he grabbed at the bag, “is obviously weed. There are two strains of weed, Indica and Sativa. Indica is more of a relaxing high while Sativa is more energizing and can produce anxious and bad highs. So what I have is Indica because that’s my personal preference.” He shrugs, tossing the plastic bag to the floor before snatching up the glass things.

“These are pieces I have for smoking. You grind up the weed and place them in this little pocket, light it with a lighter, and inhale. All I have are a pipe and bowl, not a whole lot else with the money I make.” He set the delicate glass pieces down on the floor before picking up the final thing.

“And this is a joint, which is different from a blunt. Blunts are usually rolled with tobacco and use cigar or cigarillo papers to wrap them. I don’t like anything to do with tobacco, that’s why I roll joints and use this really nice rice paper from my dealer to roll them with. These are prime.” He winks, hoping he isn’t overloading your innocent brain with information.

“Obviously, there are more ways to get high off of weed. Edibles, bongs, even masks, which I won’t overwhelm you with today.” He grins, proud of himself at the way he is so intelligent in one area of his life that he can teach someone else, that someone being you. 

“Tonight, we will keep it simple with the joints. Just like a cigarette, light the end,” He flicked open his sliver lighter, a flame emanating off of the top as he flicked it to life, “Then you inhale through the joint. Next is the most important part. You need to inhale an extra breath of air after you pull the joint away, ok? Or else you won’t get the smoke into your lungs and you won’t get high. Just watch me.”

JJ brought the alit flame to the end of the joint, it hanging loosely from his bottom lip. The little flame licked around the paper, alighting it in small embers. You could tell when JJ inhaled a gulp of the drug filled smoke, watching the embers at the end illuminate. He then pulled the joint away from his mouth, inhaling a tiny extra breath, holding the smoke contained in his lungs momentary, before exhaling. The tendrils of smoke floated heavily in the air around them, the smell pungent in your nostrils.

“Alright, princess, it’s your turn.” The little cylinder was held in your direction, the petite thing seeming so monstrous in your eyes.

You carefully pinched the joint between the tips of your fingers, as though it would harm you if you weren’t cautious with it. You swallowed down a shaky breath, desperately attempting to settle your stumbling heart. You held it up to your lips, setting it in your mouth. Your gaze was down cast on the drug filled cigarette and intently watching the smoldering end of the joint illuminate as you sucked in. You felt the smoke spilling down your throat, wrapping around in your lungs while it burned uncomfortably. You attempted to sip another breath of the musty air, but the scorching fumes from the drug stung your throat causing you to let out a string of painful coughs. You could hear JJ chuckling at your hacking figure, tears threatening to escape from your lids at the burning sensation in your lungs. You sputtered out, JJ placing a plastic water bottle in your hands to soothe your tender throat. The cold water aided in subsided in the burn, blinking back the tears in your eyes as you looked at the giggling boy.

“That wasn’t funny,” You rasped, “Why didn’t you tell me it would burn like that?” You gave the joint back to him, glowering in his direction. 

“It was pretty funny, just relax, Y/N. Enjoy the high.” He hushed, taking another lengthy drag.

You went back and forth a couple of times, still being tossed back into a fit of wheezing and coughing, but enjoying the way the world began to be enveloped in a lulling haze. You didn’t realize it at first, but your eye lids began weighing heavily, feeling your tensed shoulders fall. Though, you couldn’t help but notice the way your muscles uncomfortably seized up. Your thighs involuntarily twitched repeatedly, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“JJ, why am I twitching?” You cocked your head to the side as you eyed the handsome boy in front of you.

“I dunno, happens sometimes. I used to get the shakes all of the time when I first started smoking.” His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

You felt your head roll back, enjoying the tranquility flooding your system, the rate of your heart steadily slowing as you inhaled a deep breath of the mildew and weed hanging heavily in the air of the van.

“Being high does feel nice.” You hummed with a grin, eyes closed as you swayed slightly, relishing in the peaceful feeling at the weed tangling through your bloodstream.

“I told you.” JJ laughed, uncontrollable giggles escaping the two of you at the nonsensical situation the two of you were placed in.

A Kook and a Pogue, getting high as a kite in the back of an old van. Who would’ve thought.

“Is it weird that I’ve never gotten high before?” You pondered absent-mindedly, attempting not to peer over at JJ too often for him to notice your bizarre stares.

“Kinda, yeah. What else have you not done before?” He lazily turned his head to the side, flickering the flame from his lighter.

“Haven’t drank. I don’t even think I’ve ever had a sip of my parents drinks before.” A chuckle sputtered out of your mouth at how ridiculous that sounded actually being uttered.

“Holy shit. Have you even been to a party before?” He was adjusting himself to sit up straight, gazing at you intently for a response.

You shook your head, unable to look into the surprised eyes of the boy at how innocent you were. Though, the usual crimson heat would be rushing onto your cheeks in embarrassment at the questions, the high was muddling your mind. It let the interrogation roll off your shoulders as though it wasn’t as important or as humiliating as you usually look at your boring life.

“I’ve literally done nothing before, JJ. My life is so ungodly dull. I almost went insane at how boring it is. That’s why I asked this of you.” You confessed openly, the high loosening your usually tight lips.

“Wow, I’m glad I’m the one to make you lose your weed virginity then.” A grin spread across his pretty lips, your eyes glued to them unintentionally.

JJ definitely noticed.

“Have you...” He trailed off, his gaze trickling down and away from your eyes, the words struggling on the tip of his tongue.

“Have I?” You dragged out, motioning for him to continue.

“Have you ever had sex before?” This time he spoke with more confidence in his words, his stare returning to intimidatingly hold yours as he struck your most coveted secret about yourself.

“No...” Your tongue darted out to flicker over your lips, eyes unmoving from his piercing blue ones.

JJ tilted his head down in a leisurely nod, as though he was mulling over his pooling thoughts after your bold response. The haze that hung over your mind began to clear, your skin noticing the nearness of how close the two of you sat in your criss cross positions, knees practically grazing against one another’s.

“Have you ever had an orgasm before?” He almost looked concerned at just the thought of you never being plunged into that world of pleasure before.

“Never. I, uh, I’ve never really touched myself down there.” Your words were shaky as he studied you.

“Would you let me?” A storm of lust was clouding his baby blue eyes, his gaze becoming hungry at the thought of him being the first one to touch you in that way.

Your mouth ran dry at his words, but you didn’t even need to mull over the offer, instantly coming to your decision.

“Yes,” You breathed, chest rising and falling in wracked breaths.

His hand cautiously lifted from the confines of his lap, calloused finger tips brushing gently over your thigh. You caught your bottom lips between your teeth at the feeling of a man touching you for the first time. Your gaze fluttered between his cobalt irises and his delicious lips you craved to have pressed against your own. He gratefully took the hint, leaning his body forward towards yours. You felt his warm breath fanning across your face, his lips feeling miles apart, but also being closer than any person’s before. Your body and mind were engulfed by his delicious scent that surrounded him, a musk of marijuana and salty ocean. You tilted your head up, trying to close the gaping distance between the two of you, but he pulled back, a smirk quirking on the edges of his lips as he teased you. 

“Jay...” You sighed, yearning for him.

He didn’t to hear anything more, tilting his head down as he delicately placed his plush lips upon your own. You felt your world crack open, as though your mundane life crumbled around you, tumbling away to live you unconfined, liberated, and new. The kiss was light, fleeting, a passing moment that you were desperate to capture forever. You never wanted it to end. So, you didn’t allow it to, pressing your lips harder against his as your head tipped to the side. You brought a hand up, fingers entangling in his mussed golden locks, tugging softly on it. JJ gingerly dipped his tongue into your mouth, sweeping around inside to memorize the taste of you, your tongues colliding together in a messier kiss. The kiss was progressively becoming more passionate, his hands that were previously cupping your face moving down to rest on your hips. The boy leaned your body back, the two of you now laying along the floor of the van, JJ hovering his body over you as your lips never parted. 

You could feel the tips of JJ’s fingers skim along your now exposed flesh below the hem of your shirt, and you melted at his electrifying touch. Goosebumps skittered against your skin in the wake of his touch, and you exhaled a breathy moan into the kiss. You could feel him grip the bottom of your shirt as he pulled away from the mind muddling kiss.

“Can I take this off?” His parted lips were swollen after the intensity of the kiss, looking down at you with lust and desperation.

“Yes, please.” You allowed, holding your hands over your head to aid him in discarding the fabric.

You were plunged into the moment, but still were anxious at the boy seeing your exposed skin. You bra soon followed your shirt as JJ tossed it behind him. Your hands that were running along his body flew to cover your chest, a rosy pinks dusting your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“Don’t do that. Let me see you, princess.” That stupid nickname rolled off his tongue as he eased your hands back to your sides, revealing your hardened nipples standing at attention for him and only him.

“Oh baby, you’re so beautiful.” He hummed, a hand reaching up to gently cup one of your breasts, thumb flickering over your nipple.

The gesture sent shivers of pleasure down to your core, feeling a wetness slowly soaking your underwear. You couldn’t help the gasps tumbling from your lips as he delicately pinched and flicked at your nipples, his eyes looking on in awe at how responsive you were becoming at the simplest of touches.

“How does that feel, princess?” He arched a brow as he gazed upon your squirming figure, twisting a nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

“R-really good,” You stumbled over your words, intently watching his skilled fingers on your breasts.

“Good. But I bet I can make you feel even better.” He shot you a playful wink as his fingers danced their way down your abdomen, anticipation tormenting your body.

He began to trace along the waistband of your shorts, teasing your skin with delicate and pleasurable touches. He pressed a small kiss to your knee as he settled himself between your legs. The next thing to go were your shorts and underwear, leaving your bare and naked before him, your skin exposed for him to drink in your beautiful figure. 

“Fuck,” He muttered, eyes glued to your dripping center.

You were anxious, laying there for his viewing and touching pleasure. Your pussy was open for him to admire, and you were scared that he would be repulsed by it as you were, not knowing the depths of what it held and how much pleasure could come from it. JJ, on the other hand, craved to devour you, hunger pooling in his irises. He wanted to please you, to show you how good, no, how amazing it feels to be touched on your most delicate of places.

“Is this ok?” His voice was soft, a sweetness threading through it as he looked for your permission before he went further with anything.

He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with what he was doing, what he was toughing on your untouched body. But you didn’t care, your caution being tossed carelessly to the wind as you eagerly nodded. With your nod, he began pressing tiny pecks against the inside of your thighs, hands pressing them against the floor of the van to keep you in place. You were beyond desperate, the sparks from the kisses shooting straight to your core, moans tumbling past your lips. He mouthed his way up your flesh, passing directly over where you were throbbing for him.

“JJ, please.” You pleaded with the boy as the tiny kisses continued to ensue, your pussy dripping, wanting for him to touch more than just your thighs.

“Please what, princess?” He breathed against your thigh, his eyes capturing your own as you stared down at him.

“Please do something!” You were becoming increasingly frustrated with his ministrations, wanting his mouth elsewhere.

“Something like me touching your pussy? Like my fingers inside of you? Like my mouth on you? Is that what you want?” He spilled out every single thought your mind was thinking, wanting all of what he said and more.

“That’s exactly what I want, J.” You rushed out, begging for him to do exactly as he promised.

And that he did. You felt his finger, for the first time, drag through your slit, catching on a sensitive part of yourself down there. You flinched, hips twitching in the air at the tingling sensation dancing through your body at the touch. You watched as a smirk formed on the boys’ lips in satisfaction at your response, his finger repeating the motion, this time focusing on that overly sensitive nub, rubbing on it lightly. He more than enjoyed watching you fall apart beneath the most simple touch. He loved that he was the first one exploring your body like this. He wanted to do this over and over again, but right now, he had to focus in pleasuring you now. Small figure eights were being traced on the pleasurable button, moans and cries spilling from your mouth as you watched on in awe.

“Damn baby, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He practically growled out, his finger circling your hole before slowly, gently, carefully pressing the digit within you. 

You stretched around him, graciously taking him inside of you as he leaned his head forward to add more than just his finger. His tongue swiped between your pussy lips, the tip of it focusing on that electrifying part of you that caused your back to arch and your eyes to roll into the back of your head. His lips wrapped around it, carefully sucking on it as his fingers crooked upwards, hitting a spot that made your mind tumble into numbness and a small scream to escape you. The pleasure was almost unbearable. He continued, fingers picking up speed inside of you, constantly brushing against that spot within you. Your face was creased, mouth agape in an extended groan. Your fingers found their way back into his hair, harshly pulling on it as he lapped at your dripping cunt. 

“You taste so delicious, princess. You’re doing so good for me.” He hummed against your core.

You were a complete and utter mess, grinding your face against his mouth, chasing a high you didn’t know what it would lead to. You’ve never tumbled over the edge before, never even coming close to it, but JJ was shoving you there, fingers ramming into you and mouth harshly sucking on your clit. 

“Come on baby, I know your close, cum for me.” He ordered for you to do so before returning to his previous spot.

His words and ministrations shoved you over the edge, reaching a screaming climax as his fingers let your ride out your high. Your chest heaved, legs twitching slightly as his tongue still sloppily traced around your clit. You were practically seeing stars at the overly intense pleasure he just caused, your pussy and clit overly sensitive, you had to push the boys’ head away.

“How was that, princess?” He questioned with his puffy and swollen lips.

“So good.” You breathed, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he gathered you into his arms, allowing you to come down from your world crumbling orgasm he just gave you.

“I’m glad. I want to always make you feel like that.” His words caused your breathing to halt, the confession making your heart stumble over itself and butterflies to brush along your stomach.

“Really?” You gazed at him as his hands clutched at you tighter.

“Yes, and I want to do more than that. More than get you high and do what we just did. I want to take you out.” He attempted to come across as the confident and cocky JJ he normally appeared to be, but right now, nerves racked his body.

“I would love to go out with you JJ, even if you are a Pogue.” You giggled lightly, causing him to roll his eyes in response before he captured you in another knee weakening kiss.