[Start ID. A dark, warm-toned drawing of Tundra, a robot with bladed legs and mechanical hands both lightened by frost, and a face like that of a fencing mask. She wears a blue jacket with a fluffy white ruff and pockets on the shoulders and chest, a long green skirt with tassels and pale wavy lines at the border, and a brown belt with a pouch at the side. She's shown from the right, leaning back on a stack of pillows and a wooden wall as she looks out to the left, disregarding the open book in her hand, her legs bent in front of her. Under her is a yellow and red rug which pads gritty flooring, over her are series of low, round string lights, providing soft lighting in a room that's partially open to the night sky.]
it's a friend's birthday today yet again... in honor of the occasion here's a Tundra for @automatonknight :]
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My fyp has been inundated with videos of a beautifully dishevelled Matty Healy and it's giving me so many submissive CEO vibes 🙈
Because I can't stop thinking about leaning against the edge of CEO!Bucky's desk, maybe after or during the office Christmas party.
You're still fully dressed, cradling the glass of white wine you brought up from the party downstairs and feeling pretty well put together compared to the man in front of you. Your blouse has lost its top button but that's nothing compared to how Bucky looks.
Bucky's white shirt is entirely undone, his sleeves unbuttoned and rolled to his elbows and his shirt is untucked from the waistband of his black dress trousers.
Not only that, he's kneeling on the plush carpet in front of you, between your slightly spread legs, desperate for some relief.
You've teased him relentlessly tonight. You know you have. You've sent him photos and filthy messages, promising what he already knows; that you're soaking wet and looking forward to getting him alone.
But now you've got him alone and you're not ready to give in just yet. He sounds so sweet when he begs and no one begs like he does. He's already dropped to his knees, intent on worshipping every inch of skin he has access to until you grant him permission to kiss further and right now, that's the expanse of skin between your ankle and the hem of your pencil skirt.
"Baby..." He whispers, holding one of your ankles in his hands while he charts a course of open mouthed kisses over your skin. "You're fucking relentless."
You can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. He knows exactly how to make you feel sexy and confident and it's dizzying.
"You didn't tell me to stop." Your fingers drift through his hair and for a brief second, his lips pull away from your skin.
"Why the fuck would I tell you to stop?" That thought hadn't crossed his mind. Despite the risk and his own frustration, he never considered asking you for less. He only ever wanted more.
"You got yourself all worked up. You were so horny and pathetic you couldn't even focus on small talk." While he resumes his worship of your right leg, you press the pointed toe of your left shoe to the growing bulge in the front of his trousers.
"Don't ever stop. Please." He whispers, his eyes squeezed shut, trying not to give into his own need to grind against the sole of your shoe.
You chuckle, pressing a little harder, earning you a groan from the man you're ruining. "Do you hear yourself? You're a stupid little mess and it's fucking embarrassing." It only takes you a second to hike your skirt up, pressing your own panties to the side and his eyes are now fixed on your soaking wet sex.
"Don't get excited." You chastise. "I'm going to play and you're going to watch. If you're well behaved, I'll let you fuck yourself stupid in me but only if I think you deserve it." Two of your fingers drift over your glistening cunt, teasing your clit before sinking into your fluttering entrance.
The quiet, slick sounds of your arousal are almost too much for Bucky but he's even more overwhelmed when your press your wet fingertips to his plump bottom lip. Despite what he needs, he doesn't lick his lip immediately; he knows better than to do that.
"Good boy." You hum your approval once you're satisfied he's waited long enough. God, you feel powerful like this, watching someone so influential and composed come apart under the sole of your shoe.
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my two ideas of The Perfect Date ™:
1. we watch brokeback mountain together. or shall i say, you watch it and i watch your face. closely. depending on how moved the look in your eyes is during all the best moments i decide if we can cowboy together or not.
2. i take you to the abstract art exhibition and ask you to guess which one of the paintings is my favourite. if you guess right we get married immediately.
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