#i wanted to go back to bed but my nose is running so i was staying up to deal with that

[lovelettersfromluna]

Welcome to the Party

Summary: what’s worse than your older brother?…..his extremely attractive best friend

an: this Ellie has been living rent fucking free in my head and I absolutely cannot carry on any longer without writing about her…..also my last Ellie fic was sickly sweet I need some mean!Ellie to soothe the burn 😌 (also credit to @absdoll for writing Ellie as someone who listens to PartyNextDoor?? That is a HUGE reason that inspired me to write this bc that is absolutely so very accurate)

Warnings: SMUT!!! MDNI!!! 18+ ONLY!!, angst!, toxic!Ellie, mean!Ellie, brothersbestfriend!Ellie, Ellie is just all around a piece of shit in this one idk, oral (r!receiving), mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, Usage of the word slut, slight degradation, there’s a brief scene with reader and Jesse but they aren’t flirting I promise Ellie is just delusional, pls lmk if I missed anything!

“Please honeybee? It’ll only be for a little while. Your father and I will be back before you know it, just in time for you to go back with your friends” your mothers voice rang through the phone, her tone gentle and reassuring as she spoke to you.

You exhaled loudly in annoyance, toying with the hem of your sleep shorts as you laid in your bed, a soft pout on your face as you stayed silent for a moment, contemplating your mother’s wish.

“Baby? Are you there?” She tried. You can practically hear the way she bites her lip, chewing on the skin as she awaited your response.

“I….you do realize that Derek is the oldest sibling, right? Isn’t he supposed to be the one making sure I’m not getting in trouble?” You huff out, still holding out on giving her an answer to her request of you.

You hear her sigh over the line at the mention of your older brother. “I know sweetheart…but your father and I just need you to make sure he doesn’t burn the house down while we’re away. I’m sure it’ll only be him and Ellie there anyways” she tries assuring you.

But the mention of the girls name has your skin running cold.

It makes you pinch the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply as you truly try to outweigh your options at hand.

Your brother was a fucking moron, and you knew that the minute he heard your parents were going away for the summer, he jumped at the opportunity to ‘house sit’. It was almost comedic how clueless he was, your parents knowing your older sibling far too well to know that he’d tear the house down brick by brick unsupervised, especially with his partner in crime there with him.

So it left your poor mother to ask her baby (you), to stay the summer at their house, just to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand.

The minute she called and asked you to go down there, your entire summer had changed. All of the plans you made with your friends at university, the trips you were to make with them, all suddenly fizzled out as you were faced with the task to spend the summer with your idiotic brother and his bully of a best friend.

As much as you wanted to say no, tell your parents to figure it out or simply tell your brother he couldn’t stay there for his break, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to do that. Your parents were amazing to say the least, and the one time they actually chose to go away for the summer in one of the first times since you were born, you’d feel like an absolute villain to take that away from them.

You let out a low sigh before you finally spoke. “I’ll be there mom….you won’t have to worry about anything” you assured her, the sound of her sighing in relief putting a gentle smile on your face.

“Oh baby you are an angel. Your father and will come home as soon as we can, okay?” She assures you, to which you give a gentle chuckle before you nod.

“Have fun, okay? Tell daddy I said hi…I love you” you mumble out gently through the phone, bidding your goodbye to the woman before you hang up, letting out a loud sigh you’d seemingly been holding from the moment your mother asked you to go back home for the summer.

And as you stared up at your ceiling, you began to really think about it all. How bad could it possibly be?? It wasn’t like you were all kids still, there was no way Ellie and your brother would torment you the same way they used to when you were all younger, not when you were all adults in college, right?

Right?

You let out a soft sigh as you drove down the familiar road to your parents house, the street quiet as everyone there had similar situations to your mother and father, empty nesters who had time to get away for the summer.

Pulling into the driveway gives you a bit of relief, as you notice your brother hadn’t gotten there yet, which you could only chalk up to him and Ellie waking up entirely too late after a night of partying to get to the house at a decent time.

Some things just never changed do they?

Your brother and Ellie had been friends since elementary school, the two of them glued at the hip for almost as long as you could remember. While you really couldn’t stand the two of them, you had to say the perseverance of their friendship was kind of remarkable. You couldn’t take their bond away from them, no one could.

One day the house was only filled with your parents and your older sibling, the next there’s an extra person.

Ellie.

Things were fine in the beginning, the three of you would actually play all together for the most part. Sure, they would tease you and leave you out of certain things, but that’s what older siblings did. You were no stranger to the little sister treatment.

Things changed when they got to high school though.

The two of them started a year before you obviously, leaving you behind in middle school. You’d been through it with the transition from elementary to middle school, so you weren’t too worried. In fact, having the two of them enrolled before you was comforting in a way. It at least gave you a sense of belonging since you knew at least two people there.

But oh were you wrong.

Because in true teenage boy fashion, who the hell would want their little sister trailing behind them? No your brother and Ellie were far too cool for that, the two of them already the talk of the entire school, everyone wanting to be their friend. It was always like that, the dynamic duo absolutely stealing the hearts of everyone around them. They simply couldn’t have you asking for help on where your classes were, or even worse, having you eat lunch with them.

You weren’t even given the cold shoulder, they were just outright mean. Your brother wasn’t so bad, brushing you off and telling you to go somewhere else.

But Ellie? Oh she was vile.

She’d say the meanest things to get you to leave, laughing under her breath whenever you’d pass by, she’d even go out of her way to make her entire friend group ignore you for a week, pretending you didn’t exist at all.

Yeah, high school is when things got really bad.

You have up on keeping the familiar sibling bond you had with your brother rather quickly during your time in high school with him, ignoring the both of them when they were around, only really interacting with him whenever Ellie wasn’t with him, which was extremely rare.

Soon, you were going off to university, and you were able to live a life that wasn’t in your cool older brother’s shadow. You were able to be you, and thrive in a way that you really weren’t able to before.

You loved college for that.

But now you were back home where it all started, without the protection of mommy and daddy on top of that too.

You groaned softly as you finally brought the last of your things up to your room, sighing softly as you looked around at the familiar space, thinking about just how much time you’d be spending there for the next month and however many weeks.

You were almost done filling your empty drawers with your clothes when you heard the familiar roar of your brother’s black Jeep pull up the driveway outside, a familiar brunette sat in the passenger seat.

The plan was to steer clear of them entirely while you were all there. You were only there for your moms peace of mind, and you truthfully did not care what Ellie and your brother got up to for the summer, as long as it meant your parents house stayed in tact.

However once you’re finished packing and you decide to make your way downstairs to get a feel for things before they both arrive (or so you thought), you were only met with the sound of your brother and Ellie complaining very loudly as they walk in through the front door.

“I told you I don’t know! My dad said it was cool if we crashed here, they didn’t mention anything about her being here too.” Derek groans loudly, lugging his suitcase in behind him, unknowing of your presence stood in the very kitchen that he was walking in to.

You turn your head to catch the two of them walking in, your brother sighing in defeat as Ellie groans loudly behind him, throwing her head back in annoyance. “Do you know how much of a fuckin’ cock block she’s gonna be? I swear to god if she tries to so much as complain about the shit we’re having I’m gonna-“ you watch as your brother jabs his elbow into Ellie’s side, trying to get her to shut up once he spots you in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes as you close the fridge door shut. “It’s nice to see you too Ellie” you sigh out softly as you turn around, resting your forearms against the island counter top, leaning your hips against the edge as you watch the both of them eye you expectantly, your best guess being they wanted an explanation.

“What are you doing here?” Your brother mumbles out awkwardly, arms crossing over his chest as he gives neglects to even greet you properly.

You sigh softly before you shrug. “Mom called me and asked me to make sure you guys didn’t do anything stupid. Trust me, I’m just as upset as you are that I’m here” you mumble out, eyes casting downwards as your fingers trace along the pattern of the smooth counter top.

Ellie scoffs softly, mimicking your brother’s stance as her tattooed arms go to cross over her chest as well. “Is this some kind of sick joke? What are you even supposed to do anyways? Keep us in line or something?” Ellie barks out, obviously annoyed and wounded over the fact that your parents didn’t trust her.

You have to hold back a laugh, biting down on your bottom lip as you give her a shrug. “That’s something you gotta take up with the owner of the house, which unfortunately for you is not my brother” you hum out, your tone a tad playful as you give your brother a knowing look before rounding the table.

“Your summer is gonna be fine. In all honesty I couldn’t give a single fuck what you two do, just do it without breaking anything.” you explain, your tone softer as you eye Ellie for a moment.

You had to bite back a smirk when you caught a glimpse of their faces. Your brother was shocked with the way you were acting, his eyebrows raised and jaw slightly agape as you made your way upstairs.

Ellie on the other hand? She looked like she wanted to kill someone. Here you were, her best friends little sister, practically granting her entire summer a death sentence by your presence, at least that’s what it felt like. Her eyebrows were furrowed, nostrils flared, and you swore you could even catch her freckled cheeks growing pink with the anger that bubbled up inside of her.

And to be quite honest? It felt good.

Ellie was being ruthless

While you couldn’t say you didn’t expect it, you didn’t think it would be this bad. You of course knew that they’d be upset about you being there, but your brother’s reaction to the entire thing was much closer to what you prepared for than what Ellie was exhibiting. He was confused to say the least, but that didn’t mean he was rude to you. It was the same as any other time you and your brother were with each other, you weren’t close by any means, but you were his little sister.

Ellie on the other hand? She was like a bat out of hell.

You thought when they first got there, that would be the only time you’d get a taste of Ellie’s annoyance with your presence. You were adults after all, and there was no way she’d make your entire stay there a living hell, even when you weren’t the one that had the bright idea of staying there anyways.

Oh were you wrong.

That same night, you decided to make somewhat of a peace offering. You were honest in your words to them earlier, you didn’t have any interest in raining on their parade. Ruining their summer did little to nothing for you, even if they went out of their way to taunt and tease you when you were a kid, you didn’t dwell on any of that.

You prided yourself as somewhat of a good cook. You took over meals once you were old enough to stand at the stove without your parents doting over you, begging you to not burn yourself. Once you passed that hurdle, you all came to the realization that you were pretty good in the kitchen. You could even recall certain times where Ellie and your brother would ask you to make something for them, further proving your skills.

So while they were both in the front yard playing basketball, you knew they’d work up an appetite once they came inside. You took it upon yourself to start working on something with what your parents had in the fridge.

You were far too lost in thought once you got into it, humming softly to yourself as you stirred up what you were working on in a pan. You barely heard your brother and Ellie walk in together, chucking to each other at something Ellie was saying. The two were engulfed in the aroma of your yummy cooking the second they walked in, watching as you worked your way around the kitchen to cook something up for the two of them.

“You cooked?” Your brother asks curiously, moving to rest his forearms on the island as he watched you.

You hummed softly as you nodded, keeping your eyes on the various pots on the stove. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, so I’ll have to go food shopping tomorrow maybe…but I figured you’d both be hungry” you finally turn around, giving them both a half smile.

Your brother nodded, seemingly opening his mouth to thank you for the kind gesture, his stomach already grumbling for a taste of whatever it was that you were cooking, all of it smelling ten times better than anything he’d been eating for the past two years at college.

But Ellie was quick to cut him off, eyebrows furrowed as she gave you a death stare so intense, it was a miracle you hadn’t keeled over from it alone.

“We’re going out to eat” she deadpanned, her tone firm and harsh.

It makes you turn around fully after lowering all the spots on the stove, grabbing the kitchen towel you kept nearby and drying your hands off, your hips resting against the kitchen counter as you watched them.

Your brother frowned as he looked up at Ellie in confusion, the man clearly not have gotten the memo.

“We…are?….but you were just saying how tired-“ He mumbled out softly before Ellie landed a hard jab to his side with her elbow, making your brother quickly shut his mouth, getting her message loud and clear.

Ellie didn’t want anything from you.

You inhaled deeply, fighting back the urge to stoop down to her level, no matter how much it stung that she was doing this out of spite, simply over something that was asked of you.

“That’s…that’s fine. I hope you guys have fun” you gave them a nod and a soft smile before you turned around to continue working on the food that you’d be eating alone.

Ellie’s angry expression softened into a frown when you didn’t fight back, fully expecting you blow up and make her seem like the victim who’s getting her summer ruined by some fucking she-demon or something. But you didn’t, you simply bid them a good time and turned around to busy yourself with whatever you were doing.

Your brother frowned as he watched you turn around, already feeling bad for not only leaving you alone for the night, but making you eat alone felt even worse.

But Ellie was already scoffing, mumbling softly to your brother to come upstairs with her so they could get changed and leave so they could get something to eat, her eyes lingering on you angrily as she stomped upstairs like a child.

You spent that night alone, eating your dinner with a glass of wine, showering and watching a movie downstairs, silently hoping the pair would have a change of heart and walk through to spend the night with you, acting as a way to kick off the summer on a better note than it was already starting off on.

But they never did. You ended up doing all of that and more and they still didn’t get home. You decided to simply send your brother a quick text letting them know you’d leave the porch light on and to get home safe before you went to bed.

That wasn’t the end of Ellie’s little scheme of being terrible to you. No, that was honestly only the beginning.

The second time of her being mean was about a week later. You managed to stay clear of the both of them for a few days, busying yourself with getting the house situated for yours, Ellie and your brothers stay. You got a good amount of things done, groceries, laundry, getting your car through the car wash. You even picked up a dozen bagels from yours and your brother’s favorite bakery in the city nearby, knowing how much him and Ellie would appreciate them for breakfast, even if you knew she’d bitch once she knew you bought them.

But once all of those chores were done, you found that you’d started to run out of things to keep you occupied. There was no more laundry to do, no more groceries to buy, nothing more for you to tend to that would keep you away from the house.

You were bored out of your mind.

You sighed softly as you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling as you toyed with the hem of your denim shorts. You were contemplating what to do, how to entertain yourself in the confides of your bedroom. It was hard because Ellie and Derek spent almost all of their time in the living room, leaving you to either do things outside of the house, or stay in your room.

It made you sad, because you wouldn’t have this problem had you stayed at Uni. You would’ve been outside with your friends, at parties, restaurants, bars. Anything that there was to offer in the city, you’d be there.

Another huff passed through your lips, your arms moving down to rest against your pillow. You were beginning to get desperate, your mind void of any ideas to keep yourself occupied.

You sat up, looking towards your door for a moment before you looked back down at your hands in your lap, your mind falling deep in thought before you finally let out a sigh. You felt ridiculous, forcing yourself to be a prisoner in your own home for your own comfort. Ellie didn’t even fucking live here, this was your parents house and you deserved to walk around as you pleased!

So you finally tossed your legs over the edge of your bed, and opened your door to go downstairs.

The second your room door was open, you could hear Derek and Ellie downstairs, the two of them laughing and shouting at each other. As you walked down the stairs, you could hear the sounds of their video game playing through the speakers, paired with the sound of their fingers harshly clicking down on the buttons of their game controllers.

Video games sounded fun.

You hummed softly as you watched them from the bottom of the stairs for a moment before you walked into the living room, simply watching the two hunched over, completely locked in on their current match.

“Don’t fuckin’ push by yourself you’re gonna die. Lemme just heal really quick” you hear Ellie groan out to your brother.

“I’m good! I’m good I got this” your brothers words follow, a blanket of silence falls between the two of them, only to hear your brother and Ellie groan loudly in unison, followed by Ellie sucking her teeth in annoyance.

“I told you not to fucking-“ her words are cut short when she notices you in the corner of her eye, the girl deflating as she slouches back into the couch, her eyes back on the screen.

“Great…” she mumbles out, which you try your best to ignore before taking a spot on the opposite end of the couch, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you nod towards the tv.

“How many have you guys won so far?” You hum out softly.

Your brother’s eyes don’t leave the tv screen as he responds, fingers already clicking away at his controller the second Ellie managed to resurrect him in the game. “A good amount…especially when Ellie’s here to save my ass” he grins out, which earns an annoyed sigh from Ellie.

You hum softly as you nod, watching as their characters run around on the split screen, the two of them looting and taking out other players as the number of people in the game grows lower and lower, waiting until the game was almost over.

“Could you guys use a third?” You ask softly after clearing your throat, eyes still glued to the screen as you watch them play.

Derek licks his lips as he continues playing, his eyes quickly shifting over to Ellie for a moment to gauge her reaction to your question before he responds.

You and him would play video games all the time together, and there were even times where all three of you would play together. Sure, they’d do petty shit like leave your character in the storm to die when you needed help or made sure your controller was close to dying, but they’d at least let you play from time to time.

However, Ellie was quick to speak up and give you a response.

“No. You’re shit at this game” Ellie quickly responds, pink tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrates on the game.

While you can tell she’s not joking, her words make your brother chuckle softly as he gives her a gentle nudge. “I’m sure one game is fine? Watching her play will be kind of funny to be honest” he tried, yet Ellie wouldn’t budge.

She shook her head firmly. “Nah. She’s gonna fuck up our winning streak. Weren’t you upstairs anyway? Why did you even come down here….go back up” her eyes finally break away from the screen once the game was finished, looking over at you and nodding her head up towards the stairs.

And while Ellie would sometimes chase you away when she was over, it was always in good fun. Sure she was a dick to you but this?

This was so different.

It makes you choke up a bit, eyes widening at her words before you look at your brother, silently begging for him to defend you from the girls mean words.

But he doesn’t, he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes and grabbing his own phone to scroll through it so he wouldn’t have to be put into the awkward situation of getting between his sister and his best friend.

It makes you inhale deeply before you silently get up from the couch, slip past the two of them, and make your way back upstairs like Ellie told you to, your throat burning with hot tears as you tried your best to hide them from the pair on the couch.

Your brother finally looked up when you slipped passed the two of them, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he eyed Ellie. “I know she’s annoying but…that was kind of fucked up man” he mumbles out softly, his eyes lingering on Ellie for a moment only to watch her shrug, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“Shut up. She wouldn’t leave unless I was mean…” she mumbled out nonchalantly, which makes your brother sigh softly, turning his head back to the screen and starting another game.

You realized that this wasn’t a game. This was Ellie being awful to you for the sole fact that you were staying there and being a ‘cock block’, and in her book? That was more than enough of a reason to take her anger out on you.

It made you take one look at your bedroom when you finally got upstairs, tears in your eyes, when you realized that you had to get quite comfortable there, seeing as you’d be spending far more time locked up than you thought you would have.

You managed to avoid Ellie and your brother for the remainder of the week, for real this time. You had no interest in being around them or spending any time with them, not since Ellie made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you were the bane of her very existence.

You decided that they could spend their summer like they wanted to, without you there.

Any time you needed something from downstairs, you’d either go and get it extremely early in the morning or late enough at night so that they wouldn’t be there, which was hard sometimes since they’d spend almost the entire night downstairs, drinking beers and eating snacks until they were too tired to go in anymore.

Tonight was different though.

Because tonight was the first Saturday of the summer, which meant anyone and everyone was looking towards your brother and Ellie for a party to kick things off. You knew they’d do it of course, but you knew it was actually happening once you could hear the faint noise of the two of them setting up downstairs, paired with the roaring sound of your brothers Jeep pulling in and out of the driveway, making multiple runs to the store for last minutes things for the party.

And your plan for the night? You were going to shower early to avoid any awkward drunk run-ins, take a melatonin, lock your room door, and fall asleep with your noise canceling headphones underneath a mountain of blankets. While it would be nice to let loose and party for a night, you wouldn’t dare even ask them if you could attend, already knowing Ellie would have quite the mean words in store if you tried that.

On the bright side, this all meant you were responsible for the clean up in the morning.

You let out a soft sigh as you tugged on a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized t shirt, moving to grab your bottle of melatonin gummies before you moved to sit on the bed, wanting to wind down a bit before bed.

Right as you were about to take your vitamin and lock your door though, you heard a gentle knock, making you frown as you looked over at it. Surly the party hadn’t started yet? Did you seriously have to put a note on your door to alert drunk idiots that your room was off limits for hook ups?

You frowned before calling out. “Go away! There are other rooms!” You called out loud enough, hoping that whoever was on the other side would get the memo.

Instead, you hear the knob turn, the door creaking open as your brother peaks his head in, making you sigh in relief.

“Oh…I thought you were some idiot party-goer” you explain as you scrunch your nose at the mere thought of it before you unscrew the top to your bottle. “What are you doing here? You have a party to host” you explain before you look up at him, only to find his eyes wandering your bedroom before he shrugs.

“Wanted to check on you…make sure you’re okay” he explains before he finally looks down at you, nodding towards the bottle of melatonin in your hand. “Going to bed already?” He asks, which you nod to.

“Yup…trying to get a heard start before the noise sets in” you hum out softly before you bring one of the gummies to your lips.

Your brother quickly speaks up before you can take it. “You should come down…for a little bit. It’ll be fun” he quickly gets out before you eat it. He knew the moment you took it, you’d be lulled away to sleep, and there was no chance in him reconciling with you tonight.

Because in all honesty, he felt horrible for the way Ellie had been treating you. Not only did he fear you’d tell your parents (he knew you wouldn’t), but he also felt like he was being a shit big brother for not standing up for you, even if he knew that you knew it was a tricky situation since Ellie was his best friend.

Your shoulders slump at his words, giving your brother an unamused look.

“Your friend wouldn’t even let me play video games with you. Do you seriously think she’d allow me to come down tonight l?” You groan out softly before you shake your head, bringing the gummy to your lips once again. “I’m gonna go to bed. I don’t have time for either of you” you sigh softly.

Your eyes widen when your brother steps forward and slaps the gummy from your hand. “What the hell Derek??” You shriek out, which only makes him groan in annoyance.

“It’ll be fun! And Ellie will be too drunk or high or both to even notice you’re there…” he whines out like a child, which makes you roll your eyes.

A blanket of silence falls between the both of you as you think about it, weighing out the pros and the cons of going downstairs and joining everyone, risking the chance of Ellie blowing up on you the second she sees you there, assuming you’re attending for the sole purpose of shutting down her fun.

Derek sighs softly as he moves to sit down next to you on your bed. “I’ve been a shitty older brother…and you deserve to have fun this summer too” he hums out softly before he leans over, nudging your shoulder gently with his.

“Come on…it’ll be fun” he urges once more, and it reminds you of when you were both kids, your brother slowly turning into the person that you recognized rather than the person he was whenever he was around Ellie or his other friends.

You finally sigh out softly before looking over at him, giving him a slight nod. “I’ll change and come down once I hear the music start playing…I’m sure that gives her enough time to get her drunk goggles on” you hum out playfully as you refer to Ellie.

Your brother smiles brightly, his mimicking your own before he nods. “You’re gonna have fun” he affirms once more before he gets up to leave your bedroom, closing the door behind him so he could get downstairs and finish setting up.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you look down at your clothes, frowning at the faded band t shirt paired with the frayed ends of your old sleep shorts.

You needed to change.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the faint sound of the loud music booming through the house, paired with the various cars that slowly started piling up in your driveway and along the side of the ride in front of your house, the party guests making their way to your place like clockwork.

You had changed into a pair of baggy blue jeans that hung low on your waist, and a simple white tank top hugged your curves in a way that looked like you put in way more effort that you actually did, wanting to keep things comfortable enough that you could slip out of it the second you wanted to dessert the place for the safe haven that was your bedroom.

The party was in fully swing by the time you made your way downstairs, a person filling up everyone single space as music blasted loudly throughout the entire place. You inhaled deeply, slipping past the growing sea of people to get to the kitchen, and get a drink.

Your eyes scanned the space as you stayed leaned up against the counter, red solo cup pressed against your lips as you babysat the mixture of liquid and soda, people watching as everyone around you became acquainted with one another, your drink making you grow warmer and warmer with each passing second.

Like a stroke of luck, you catch an empty spot on the once full couch. It makes you sigh in relief, once again slipping past the bodies in your house to catch it before someone else does, which you thankfully do. You plop down onto it, bringing your cup to your lips as you rest your head against the back of the couch.

You didn’t even realize how drunk you were until Jesse, one of your brother’s old friends plops down next to you with a loud sigh. The second he was next to you, the strong smell of weed was filling up your lungs, you swore you felt the tiniest bit high from the smell alone.

“If I so much as smell a blunt, your tv is gonna grow legs and start walking away” he groaned out, making you stifle a laugh.

The sound catches his attention, the man turning his head to look at you, his hazy expression slowly tugging into a smile.

“Nooo way. I remember you! You’re Derek’s little sister” he gasps out, which makes you hold back a laugh before you nod.

“I am in fact his sister” you confirm.

To be frankly honest, you’d known Jesse since high school. He was pretty close with Ellie and Derek, he was actually the only one out of the group of gremlins that was actually kind to you whenever they were all around. However he was currently so far gone, he could barely remember that you two already knew each other.

“Maaan I haven’t seen you in so long! He didn’t tell me you’d be here” he chuckles softly, bringing his hands to his face as he groans softly.

“I’m…I’m sorry I’m so high right now. I can barely think” he apologizes, the man visibly melting into the couch as he lets his hands fall down beside him, staring off into space.

You giggle softly as you shake your head, bringing your cup to your lips as you take another sip of your drink. “You’re fine Jesse…the companies nice” you nod before you rest your head back against the back of the couch, allowing Jesse to carry on with his belligerent complaints.

You were so consumed with Jesse’s rather entertaining word vomit, that you barely noticed a certain someone eyeing you from the other side of the couch.

Ellie had been there the entire time, too high and too drunk (like your brother said she’d be) to even notice you had taken a spot at the end of the couch. It also didn’t help that she had her current summer fling splayed across her lap, her lips pressed to the girls mouth as they practically swallowed each other’s faces whole.

And she wouldn’t have noticed you either, had it not been for the familiar sound of your giggle ringing through her ear, barely audible over the sound of the loud music booming through the house.

At first she thought she was hearing things, ignoring the noise and carrying on with working her tongue against the girl’s against her. However the second time she heard it, it was paired with a low groan that she could only recognize as Jesse’s, and once she heard that? She had no choice but to break her lips away from the girls, instead allowing her to work her lips against her neck.

The image of your head resting against the back of the couch, looking up at Jesse as his face seemingly lays inches away from yours, your eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room, the edge of your solo cup resting against your pouty bottom lip as you listen intently at whatever Jesse is saying…

Makes Ellie want to punch a fucking hole in the wall.

Because what the fuck is Jesse doing talking to Derek’s little sister? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to make you laugh that way when everyone knows you’re off limits? The unspoken rule being something everyone had to follow…

No matter how pretty you got as you grew up.

Ellie suddenly can’t pay any attention to the pretty girl on her lap, her grip on the girls hips tightening with anger as she watches you smile lazily at Jesse, the drink in your cup clearly making you far too soft and pliable to be talking to someone like Jesse.

There’s suddenly a fire burning in her, one that begs for you to look up and see what she’s doing, see that she has a girl on her lap that isn’t you. She wants you to see her kissing the girl, gripping her hips and positioning her however she pleases.

Ellie feels the need to make you jealous

But you never do. Ellie watches the both of you for what feels like an eternity, and you don’t once look up and lock eyes for her, not even for a second. She’s sure you’re obvious to the fact that she’s even there, far too consumed with whatever the fuck it was that Jesse was telling you, which couldn’t be anything good of course, it was Jesse of all people.

The girl on her lap is getting antsy, tugging at the bottom of Ellie’s shirt, slipping her hand underneath it to run along the skin of her hips, lips itching up her skin to get back to Ellie’s mouth, anything to have the attention that has suddenly been locked into something else.

Ellie doesn’t budge of course, her stone cold gaze stuck on you across the chair, a few feet away from her as Jesse chats you up,

She doesn’t even know why she’s staring. She can’t pin point why seeing you do something as simple as talk to someone else makes her blood boil to the point where she feels fucking light headed. All she knows is that she can’t take her eyes off of you, not when your attention is so dead set on someone else.

The girl on Ellie’s neck whines softly, her hand coming up to grip Ellie’s chin, pulling her down to finally lock lips with her. It makes Ellie groan, and to the girl it probably sounded like a groan of approval, a sign that Ellie liked that she was taking what she wanted from her. In reality, it was Ellie being fucking annoyed.

Ellie kisses her hard, trying her best to shut her up and keep her satisfied so she can break away and keep an eye on you.

You sigh softly, lifting your head a bit to turn and look down into your cup, noticing it had become empty in the span of talking to Jesse. While doing that, you realized how drunk you had gotten from the drink you made, a lazy giggle leaving your lips as you shook your head towards Jesse.

“I’m…way too drunk…I need to go to bed” you sigh out, resting your hand Jesse’s thigh as you give him a gentle pat. “Try to sober up before you go home if you do end up leaving….was nice seeing you Jesse” you smile at him, only receiving a soft groan of agony before he lazily waved you off, making you giggle softly before you got up off the couch, stumbling a bit before making your way around it to go upstairs.

As you round the corner, oblivious to Ellie’s presence, you don’t at all notice the way her eyes trail your path even as her lips work angrily against the girl in her lap.

Or the way she breaks the kiss once you’re out of view, pushing the girl off her lap as her legs begin carrying her up to follow you. “I’ll be right back…” she mumbles out to the girl, completely ignoring the way she scoffs once she realizes Ellie was following another girl.

She slips past the crowd of people as she trails close behind you, watching as you fail to even realize the way certain eyes follow your path, eyes that don’t belong to her, eyes that have filthy thoughts behind them, only fueling her anger further.

It’s like a shark stalking their prey. You’re a dumb, innocent little fish with not a care in the world, happily swimming around other little seat creatures as an apex predator slowly sticks onto your tail, following you to your demise. You’re bouncing around, giggling softly as you stumble over your own feet, so stupid from the liquor you had, you’d barely even noticed Ellie was following you.

Soon, you’re up the stairs and in front of your bedroom door. You reached up, standing on your toes to get to the little key you left on the top of your door after you locked it before going downstairs, ensuring no one would so much as think to use your bed as a hook up station.

You opened it up, sighing softly as you closed it behind you, moving over to your drawer to grab the pajamas you had folded earlier, wanting nothing more to change into them and get some much needed sleep now that the alcohol had settled in and warmed up your entire system.

Ellie hears you humming softly to yourself as she opens up your door. She isn’t even entirely sure what her motive is with this, why she felt the need to follow you all the way up to your room, and to on top of that walk in. It wasn’t like you were in any sort of danger, you weren’t out on the street late at night all alone, or even at a party at a strangers house. You were a smart girl, even going as far as to lock your door before and after leaving to go downstairs.

Not smart enough to lock it before Ellie could come in though.

You frown softly when you hear your door open, fully prepared to start screaming for your brother the second some creep tried to come in to your room.

You don’t have to though, because the second you realize that it’s Ellie standing at your door and not some fucking weirdo, you let out a small sigh of relief.

Which quickly turns into panic once you realize that it’s Ellie standing in your doorway.

“Ellie? What are you doing here?” You question the girl, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let out a soft sigh.

You can hear it already, the way Ellie is gearing up to degrade and berate you for even thinking it was okay to come out of your room and down to the party. You mentally prepare yourself for the nasty things she’ll say, for the way she’ll go above and beyond to ensure you never even think to come down and attend another one of hers and your brothers parties ever again.

But she doesn’t speak, not immediately at least.

You watch as she crosses her arms over her chest, tattooed forearms making her look all the more intimidating. Her eyes roam your bedroom as she slowly steps in to take in more of the space after she closes your door behind her.

“It’s nice in here…you should’ve stayed put…would have worked out better for you” she hums out, her tone a bit too casual for the bite that her words manage to get out of you.

It makes you sigh softly, bringing your hand up to rub against your forehead before you speak up. “It was Derek’s idea, okay? And I was barely even down there. I didn’t even talk to anyone” you explain to the girl.

She raises her eyebrows, green eyes settling on you as she watches you in surprise.

“Didn’t talk to anyone hm? Then what the fuck were you doing with Jesse? Huh?” She barks out, the level of her voice making you flinch.

If you were confused before, this has you in shambles. Your frown deepens as your eyebrows furrow, watching the girl before you quickly speak up to defend yourself.

“With Jesse? Ellie I…we talked for maybe thirty minutes? And all he was telling me was how much he was greening out I…are you serious right now??” You shriek out, watching as the girl slowly made her way towards you.

She ignores your explanation. “Do you know how fucking desperate you look? Clinging on to mine and Derek’s friends?” She spits out, her tone growing angrier and more vile with each word she utters.

And she’s getting closer to you the more she speaks too.

“It’s fuckin’ pathetic. You’re fucking pathetic. Don’t you get tired of this? Isn’t this boring to you?” She questions, tone dripping with annoyance and anger as she keeps going, keeps pushing you.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her like this. She’s fuming with something you don’t recognize and it makes your eyes widen, lips parting slightly as you try to find the words to say before they quickly close once she continues on with her nasty words.

That’s wide eyed look on your face lights a fire under Ellie that tells her to keep going.

She’s right in front of you now, her nose inches away from yours as she lets out an unamused chuckle, a soft smirk on her face.

“You’re such a fucking slut…you know that? Begging for attention from your brother’s friends….” She hums out softly, her pink tongue slipping out of her mouth to wet her lips slowly. You can barely stop yourself from your eyes shifting down to watch the way she does it, only earning a soft chuckle from the girl.

“Did you go to him because you saw I was busy baby? Is that it?” Her tone is still taunting you, but it’s softer, her voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly you feel her strong hands snake their way around your waist, pulling you slowly but harshly against her body, making you gasp softly at the sudden and foreign feeling of her body pressed against yours, all of it consuming you too much to even register what it was she was accusing you of.

Her eyes are taking in your features. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, as if she were silently begging you for something you couldn’t completely give her, something more.

“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask” she sighs out softly.

And it’s like you aren’t even there anymore, because once she says that, her lips are pressed against yours in a hot, needy kiss.

Your eyes widened at the feeling of her lips on yours. For a minute you even questioned if you were dreaming, because surly there was no world where this would be happening, one in which Ellie would be kissing you.

You gasped out softly, trying to break away from the girl to ask what exactly it was that she was doing, but she only takes this as an advantage to slip her tongue into your mouth.

The feeling of her wet tongue against yours has you melting, your eyes fluttering shut as suddenly any and all questions and concerns you previously had disappear from your head, the only thought present being how good it felt to have Ellie kissing you.

You finally get a moment to speak when you feel Ellie break the kiss so that her lips could trail down your throat, licking and sucking your skin as her hands grip your hips tightly, fingers rubbing against the exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans.

“Ellie…what are you…” you manage to get out between moans, enjoying the feeling of the means girls lips against your throat far too much.

“Shut up…just shut the fuck up…” her words are muffled against your skin.

You can feel her walking you back towards your bed, allowing her to push you back onto it and crawl over your body once you’re both there. That’s when her lips attach themselves back onto yours, her hand coming down to skillfully unbutton your jeans, which gives her a chance to cup your pussy, feeling your arousal soaked panties.

She smirks against your lips, the pads of her fingers pressing against your clothed clit as she gives you a hum of approval.

“Wet already? Over one little kiss? God that’s pathetic…” she chuckles out softly as she degrades you for it, which somehow only sends more warmth shooting down your core.

“It’s alright baby…I’ll take care of you..” she hums softly against your lips before she starts kissing down your body.

Her lips swirl your nipples over the fabric of your tank top, the material growing wet with her saliva. It’s strange because the feeling is almost more erotic than if she were to do it with your top off. Maybe it’s how eager she is for it? For whatever it was she was planning on doing to you?

You had no idea. But you knew it felt good.

She does this until she’s settled between your legs, your denim jeans already long gone, her eyes zeroed in on the growing damp spot on your panties. You’re propped up on your elbows, watching closely as the girl who you were convinced hated you, stares down at your pussy like it’s her last fucking meal.

“You’re soaked baby…fuck…” she sighs out, her tattooed hand coming up to slowly run her index and middle fingers along your slit, the feeling alone making you gasp out before moaning for her.

That makes Ellie smirk, her stormy green eyes flickering up to catch your expressions as her fingers circle your clit slowly. “Yeah? You like that don’t you pretty girl…you want more?” She questions, her voice so soft and sweet, yet dripping with the urge to tease and humiliate you.

It was so confusing, because you didn’t know what it was that you wanted. You’d grown to view Ellie as someone who disliked you, deeply in fact. You always saw her as a figure of hate and annoyance towards you rather than someone who could ever in their wildest dreams be in this current situation with you.

But it felt so good, it felt so fucking right to have her settled between your legs, her fingers circling your clit slowly, making your head spin, making you feel so dizzy you felt like you’d cry if your aching pussy didn’t have some form of attention from her.

“Answer me…” she practically growls out when you take too long to respond, her dark eyes growing even darker as she awaits your confirmation.

Her tone along breaks you out of your thoughts, and before you can even think all of this through, consider the consequences that will follow a drunk hook up with Ellie?…

You’re nodding like a fucking bobble head.

“Want it so bad Ellie…please….please touch me” you practically beg, hips bucking for the attention you craved.

You didn’t even for a second stop to think what her motives were. Ellie was mean, and she could be really fucking mean when she wanted to. Who’s to say this wasn’t all a sick joke? One that she’d laugh at hysterically just to get you to say you wanted her, weaponizing the way you begged for her in any instance she could use to keep you in line.

“Good girl…relax baby…I’ll make you feel real good..” she hums out, her gentle words tugging you away from your intrusive thoughts.

Her fingers tug your panties to the side, an audible groan rumbling from her chest as she finally gets a glimpse as your soaked core.

“Fuckin’ look at that…pussy’s practically drooling for me baby…Jesus” she sighs out softly.

For a moment, you think she’s going to leave. Because in the dim light of your bedroom, you watch as she pushes her fingers into her mouth. You watch her with a confused frown as you hear a small click, paired with a gentle buzzing sound.

But once Ellie finally latches her mouth to your pussy, you can feel the foreign feeling of a tiny ball in the middle of her tongue vibrating against your clit.

You don’t even have time to fully register what the actual fuck is going on, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes go wide for a moment before they flutter shut.

Ellie had a vibrating fucking tongue ring

The feeling has you moaning loudly, your head falling back as your back arches, feeding more of your throbbing cunt into Ellie’s mouth, which only makes her moan loudly against your sensitive core.

“Fuck! Ellie oh my god! Feels…h-huh….feels s’good” you gasp out, words broken up with huffs and moans as you struggle to speak.

You want to kick yourself for not noticing it moment ago when she had her tongue playing against yours, the feeling of the smooth ball lapping against the inside of your mouth, only to begging vibrating once she settled her mouth on your pussy.

She’s just as fucked out as you are when you finally look down at her, her eyes fluttered shut in what could only be viewed as pure bliss as she licks and sucks your pussy like a woman starved. The image alone makes you reach out and tug a fistful of her hair into your hand, keeping her close as your hips began grinding against her face.

“Yeah..right…f-fuck…right there Ellie!” You moan out as her hands come up to hold onto your hips, guiding you, urging you to move harder and faster against her mouth.

Begging you to use her.

Your eyes flutter shut as the familiar feeling begins to settle into your lower half, your legs growing numb, hips getting sore as you chase the high that was growing deliciously close every second Ellie worked her skilled tongue on your pussy.

You aren’t sure you’ve ever felt anything like it. Between Ellie’s fantastic performance with her tongue, and the vibrating tongue ring, your head begins spinning as your orgasm grows closer in an embarrassingly quick amount of time.

“Ellie I…I can’t…you’re gonna…make me…” you warn her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare down at the girl, only to see her giving you an encouraging nod as she suckles your pussy, making sure the little ball on her tongue is working your clit in the most perfect way so that the vibrations can drive you where you need to go.

That alone has you crying out, back arching almost painfully as you cum hard on the girls tongue.

Sensitivity chases soon after, a soft whine leaving your lips as the girl laps up your arousal, tongue ring still buzzing against your tired cunt, making you shy away from the warmth of her mouth.

She chuckles at that, giving your clit one final kiss before she pulls away and reaches into her mouth to click the tiny machine off.

“Did so good for me baby…took everything that I gave you” she praises you as she crawls up your body, humming softly as her hand comes up to gently hold your face before she kisses you, letting you taste your arousal that lingers on her tongue.

You moan softly into your mouth, head still swirling with a million questions you had for her, all of which she silences with the slow and sensual lapping of her tongue against yours.

She does this as she pushes you back onto your bed, letting you rest against your pillows before she tugs your blanket over both your bodies, her tongue lazily playing with yours as she practically lulls you to sleep with her kisses.

Or so you thought.

Because soon enough, she’s breaking the kiss, crawling off of your body as she tugs the blankets off of hers. You frown as you sit up a bit, watching as she adjusts her hair and her clothes in your mirror, crouching down a bit before she turns to leave your room without another word.

“I…you’re leaving?” You question softly, confusion and exhaustion laced within your words.

Ellie snorts once she turns around, the back of her hand coming up to wipe away anymore of your juices that might have still lingered on her lips.

“You thought I was gonna stay with you? Seriously?” She chuckles out softly before she slowly makes her way back to you, leaning down as she gives you a teasing pout.

“Maybe next time princess…I have someone waiting for me downstairs” she winks at you before she swiftly leaves your bedroom, leaving you there with a shocked look settled on your face.

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Ten

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.9K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

Of the six dates they'd been on, one of them had cancelled or rescheduled yet. It was just Oscar's luck that he was the first to do so.

"I'm really sorry guys," he said, holding the phone up to his ear. He couldn't sound more apologetic if he tried.

The ring around Lando's contact picture lit up green as he let out a growl. But it wasn't a growl of anger, and Oscar knew that. He couldn't blame Lando, though. He'd planned this date out and he'd been so excited.

"It's okay," she quickly jumped in before Lando could bite out some angry remark, ring around her contact picture lighting up purple. "Lando and I can get takeout and watch a movie instead. You'll join us when you're done, right?"

The breath Oscar let out was full of relief. "Of course I will, sweetheart," he said.

"What're you doing tonight?" Lando asked, voice clipped.

Oscar swallowed the lump in his throat. He coughed slightly, delaying answering the question. "I... uh, we're getting food tonight," he said and coughed again.

"Oh," The two of them answered.

He hated talking about feeding with them. It was disgusting, it wasn't normal. And it was something he never wanted the two of them to see. "Are you sure you still want me to come back?"

"Of course we do, Osc," she mumbled. "Take as long as you need."

The call didn't last much longer than that. Lando didn't have much to say and Oscar had to get going. "I'll see you guys later," he said. Not an I love you, they weren't at that point yet.

He ended the call between the three of them, slipped his phone into his pocket, and walked into the living room. There his fellow vampires were, waiting for him. Mark gave him a nod as he sat down between Logan and Max.

"Is everybody ready?" Asked Mark and the vampires let out different whoops and cheers. Mark clapped his hands together. "Let's get going, then."

Oscar let out a breath and followed the rest of his fellow vampires out of the house. He checked his phone one last time, checked for any messages from her and Lando.

She'd texted him, something cute. Just a quick, 'see you later, Osc. Miss ya!'. But Lando hadn't said anything. He was pissed, Oscar knew that. He was a werewolf; he didn't understand. Lando could eat whenever he wanted, he didn't need to wait for nights like this to hunt.

Yuki elbowed his shoulder and Oscar slipped his phone into his pocket. He sucked in a breath and followed the others into the woods.

***

"You can't be mad at him," she said as she ran her fingers through Lando's hair.

He let out a huff as he laid against her, his head on her boobs. God, he was comfortable, but he knew he would have been happier if Oscar was there with them. Lando would have been laying across the both of them as she played with his hair and Oscar ran his nails up and down his back.

But Oscar wasn't there and Lando was mad.

He looked at her, wearing a pout. It was pathetic of him, to be pouting like a petulant child, he knew. But he couldn't help it. He was sad and a little mad, and she had to know it.

Her finger poked his nose. "You're lucky you're cute, Norris," she whispered.

And suddenly he was on top of her, his lips on hers, hips pressing against her own. Hips hips were against hers, grinding ever so slightly.

Beneath them, her bed was squeaking. "Lando." She pushed at his shoulder. "Lando, stop. Stop, before my dad comes in," she whispered.

With a giggle, Lando laughed and sat back. "Did you know I had a crush on you when we were kids?" He asked as he laid down beside her and pulled her closer.

"Yeah," she answered as she began planning with his fingers. "Yeah, I knew."

Lando frowned at that. He stilled his hand as she continued to play with his fingers. "You knew?" He repeated, and she nodded. "But you didn't like me back?"

"No, I did. But I was only gonna be here for a few weeks or months at a time, so I didn't see any point."

Lando pulled his hand away from hers and sat up straighter. "Aren't you only here for a few months this time around?"

She rolled her eyes. She hadn't meant to, but Lando was being a pouty baby and it was over nothing. Except, this time, he wasn't pouting. No, anger and fury was in his eyes. "C'mon, Lan. This is different. We were kids then, and saying goodbye after only spending a few months, at most, together would have been so painful."

"How is this any different?" He barked back. "Oh, wait, I know. This time you'd leave for four years, instead of nine months."

"Lando!"

The laugh he released was like poisoned air between them. "You're saying my name like you're not gonna leave in a few months."

She had no defence for that. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she couldn't stop herself from glaring at him. "This isn't fair to me, you know," she whispered, pulling her legs up to her chest. "Yeah, I was gonna have to leave, but I was gonna come back! And you guys could visit me!"

But Lando had moved over to the window. "I need some air," he said as he pushed the window open.

"Lando!" She called again. But, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. She climbed out of the bed and raced over to the window, but Lando was long gone. Her eyes scanned over the yard and back towards to the woods, but he was nowhere to be found.

She left the window open, just in case Lando came back, but she crawled over to the bed and threw herself on top of the comforters. The movie was still playing, but she had no idea what was happening. She didn't care as she cried into her pillow.

How long as she laid there? She didn't know as he buried her face against the pillow.

There was a noise, the unmistakable sound of someone coming in through the window. She sat up and wiped at her eyes as she looked at the intruder. The welcome intruder.

"Sweetheart," Oscar said as he strode towards the bed. "What happened?"

His hand was on her back, moving in soothing circles as she moved closer to him. "He's such an asshole," she spat, and Oscar wiped her tears from her cheek.

"Lando?" He asked, and she nodded. Oscar let out a sigh. "Okay, tell me what he did."

She did just that, telling him everything as she laid against his side. Oscars hand was still against her. Cold and so still. He squeezed her, kissed the top of her head.

"He just lashed out? For no reason?" Oscar asked as her head sat on his shoulder and her lips nipped at his neck.

"Yeah," she mumbled.

There first fight, and he wasn't even there. If he had been, he could have stopped it. He could have stopped Lando from leaving and he could have gotten them to talk it out.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Do you want me to and speak to him?" He asked gently.

Her hand was against his chest as she pushed him back against the bed. "Later," she said and laid beside him, head on his chest. "Just... be here with me."

Oscar stayed with her. His arms were around holding her close as they watched the rest of the movie. Neither of them really knew what was going on, but Oscar didn't much care as he felt her breathing even out.

As soon as it did, Oscar untangled her body from his own. He laid her on the bed and pulled her blanket over her body. "I'll be back soon," he whispered as he brushed her hair away from her forehead. He leaned down to kiss her head and took off, leaving through the window.

The moment he got into the woods, the wolves made it clear he wasn't welcome. He walked with his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the pack house.

And, suddenly, a wolf was in front of him. His black fur made him almost invisible in the dead of night. "Carlos," Oscar said as he stared down at the wolf. "I need to speak to Lando."

Carlos growled. His stance was ready to bounce, but Oscar stood firm. He was getting to Lando one way or another, even if he had to go through Carlos.

"Stand down, Chilli," came a familiar voice.

Oscar looked just past him. Daniel Ricciardo, one of the friendliest wolves around, strode towards him. "You're here for Lan, right?" He called and Oscar gave a nod. "Right, let's go." He waved for Oscar to follow him and Carlos stepped to the side, letting him through.

He followed Daniel towards the pack house, acutely aware of Carlos behind him. But he ignored it as he moved forward. "So, you two are really together? You and Toto's kid?" Asked Daniel as he navigated through the woods.

"Yeah," Oscar answered. "Yeah, we are."

Daniel gave a laugh, but it wasn't mocking. "You guys are making history here," he said as the pack house came into view. "A werewolf and a vampire together. I never thought I'd see it."

He walked him through the front door and up the stairs, ignoring the growls of the other wolves. As long as Daniel was leading him, Oscar knew he was fine.

At the first door on the left, he knocked. "Piss off!" Lando called, but Daniel nodded for Oscar to enter.

"Lan?" He called as he walked into the room.

Lando swivelled his spinning chair to face the door. "Osc," he said with slight surprise. "I thought you were busy."

"I was," he said, shutting the door and pressing his back against it. "And then I headed to come meet you guys. Except, when I got there, you had already gone and our girl was crying."

His voice was so gentle, it had Lando bowing his head. "I didn't mean to make her cry," he mumbled. "I just... I was so angry. She's gonna leave again and I can't handle that," he admitted.

"Talk to me, baby," said Oscar as he came to sit on Lando's bed. "What's got you so angry?" He looked around the room, at all of the things Lando had on his shelves. His gaming set up and childhood sports trophies were no surprise, and Oscar knew how much he loved golf. It wasn't the bedroom of a man, but Oscar loved it.

And then he spied the calendar on the back of the door. Just on date was circled, the date of the full moon. "Oh, Lan." Oscar sighed. "It's the full moon, isn't it? That's why you've been extra angry, right?"

"It's no excuse, Osco," He mumbled, head thrown back and eyes shut. "She probably hates me."

Oscar kissed his head. "That's why we're gonna gonna back to hers and you're gonna apologise and you two are gonna make up. Sound good?"

Lando nodded his head. "Sounds good," he said and pulled Oscar towards him.

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[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 12 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: life has been hectic with family drama, getting my exam results soon and making a decision for my future based on those possible outcomes. even so, I loveee writing, that’s why this took me longer than normal. enjoy reading, and goodnight or good morning wherever you are! 🫶

W/C: 3.366

part eleven

Throughout the heart-stuttering night, Jude struggled to get the full rest he needed for training the next afternoon.

He was thankful training was scheduled later than usual because he’d struggled to get even a wink of sleep.

After the sudden way the girl had launched herself into his arms, crying herself back to sleep as he whispered sweet, reassuring words to her- Jude’s thoughts were a complete mess.

Noticing her sleeping state, he'd shifted in her bed, leaning back into her pink satin pillows. Her head lying on his bare chest.

He had adjusted her head and arms carefully, making sure she wouldn’t touch his injured shoulder through the night.

And then?

He was stuck, only realizing how restricting the position was when she calmed down, especially considering how rigid his body had gone at the contact.

His mouth went dry and glass of water he had abruptly woken up for earlier was not even within the bounds of his thoughts.

Jude would not stop glancing down at her.

How could he not?

The way her bedside lamp had been hitting her face, the warm lighting giving him a clear look and emphasizing the softness of her state.

Fast asleep, trusting him in her most vulnerable state, drunk and asleep.

It all made his heart thump in his ears, her calm breaths leaving through her nose and hitting his skin.

Jude had witnessed her drunken state before, weeks ago, back in London. A night that had taken a wrong turn unexpectedly.

He couldn't lie, the entire situation had him worked up from beginning to end.

Images of beating the creep’s face bloody, even more than y/n's bag had done, flashed through his head.

Even when he when was lying in bed that night, sleepless- like this night.

Shit.

My head is pounding, pounding like I've banged my head against the wall a multitude of times.

A splitting headache was the last thing I would want on a workday.

Why did I drink the night before a workday again?

I rub my eyes, squeezing them shut, to try to combat the pain in my head.

My satin pillow was oddly hard at the moment, making me groan in annoyance.

Did my pillow transform into a rock overnight?

"Will you pretend to be asleep for another ten minutes, or are you going to wake up?"

My soul almost escapes my body at the noise. I jump up, something resembling a scream leaving my lips.

My eyes widen as I scramble, not believing both my eyes and ears as I look at a shirtless, tired Jude, in my bed.

Jude..

In my bed.

"What are you doing?!" I scream, looking down at my body, screaming even louder internally.

I snatch my blanket from the other side of the mattress, covering up my body- even when realizing I'm still fully dressed, exactly like I was last night before..

What the fuck even happened yesterday?

I watch Jude cover his ears, facial expression unreadable as I distance myself from him.

"Can you please stop shouting?" The brum accent spits. I watch the wrinkles on his forehead etch deeper, a loud huff leaving his mouth.

"What are you- Why are you in my bed?"

The sight is..

"And where is your shirt?!" I ask, voice higher pitched than I ever imagined would leave my lips.

I step back from my bed, the blanket around me like a do-it-yourself cape, seeing him surrounded by my pink, cotton, and satin bedsheets and pillows.

I run a hand down my face, my head starting pound more. I expect to see a nasty sheen of cakey makeup on my fingers- except there is nothing..

"Jude.. Say something.." I plead, urging him to spit out an explanation for- whatever this is.

"It's.." He breathes out, sitting up. I watch him wince, a hand traveling up from his bicep to his shoulder, his mouth forming a line.

I bite on my tongue, watching him like a hawk. I probably look like an absolute mess. My dress is wrinkled, hair a mess and my breath has to smell foul.

Since when did I care about how I looked in front of this douche?

"It's nothing important." He finally says, making anger course through my veins.

"What do you mean? You're half naked in my bed!”

He gets off the mattress, feet hitting the gray parquet flooring. Jude doesn't reply, instead, he walks past the bed, towards the door.

"Hey! Aren't you going to answer-"

"Get cleaned up.." He says rudely, walking out of my room. Only for me to hear the loud slamming of his door.

There's no way something didn't happen last night..

"The taxi is here.." I mumble, placing my sunglasses on my face. Dark-tinted glasses helping me with my headache and giving me a small mask to hide behind.

I looked like a rat who'd recently escaped from a sewer.

I hadn't spoken to Jude all morning after our weird screaming match.

Could he blame me?

He was in my bed, atrocious considering the weird tension between us, especially since he'd been living in my house.

What it meant? I couldn’t figure it out. Nor could I figure out if this positive or negative..

I hear him make a noise in acknowledgment, making him stand up from the couch. Blue toiletry bag- probably way too expensive for what it's worth, in his arms as he makes his way to the front door.

We annoyingly had to take the taxi to the training grounds this morning, mostly due to my hangover.

But also, because I'm not sure I could drive Jude to the training center without threatening to leave him at the side of the road if he didn't fess up about what happened last night.

I shouldn't be trusted to drive in this state.

I step into the taxi, greeting the driver before shutting up and resting my eyes for the rest of the ride. Though, my interest gets peaked when he begins chatting with Jude about the football club.

"Champions League very good- big chance for Madrid." The driver speaks in limited English.

Again, there is a jumble of mutated Spanglish being spoken.

I tune out Jude's reply. It's probably something egoistic and stupid, like usual.

Of course, my biggest wish every season is for Real Madrid to do well.

But my judgement was clouded when it came to Jude speaking of winning.

My eyes shift back to the driver when we arrive at the training grounds, making me step out immediately as the two of them take photos together.

The fare?

Jude could pay, and I'd be happy to make him pay for the rest of the rides we took together.

I should make him pay for gas, right- I have to..

I adjust the sunglasses on my face, looking around swiftly before practicing running into the training center.

I greet everyone haphazardly, my black trench coat making me look like a vilanized inspector gadget.

This will be a long, long day..

"So, any reason you were stepping out of a taxi with a certain someone?" I hear Lina say, making me raise my brow. The painkiller I had taken earlier helping me a little more than I expected.

I had the nosiest colleagues ever. I thought I made sure no one else saw us.

"Oh, I noticed him in the taxi, so I just caught a ride." I explain, a shitty lie definitely too easy to catch.

"Sure, not like you’d rather be caught dead than share a car with him.." She trails off, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement as she twirls a lock of her hair with her finger.

"Yeah, didn't expect he would stop at the light next to the train station.."

Fuck, was there a connection between a hangover and not being able to lie?

Even a child could spot my bullshit from kilometers away.

"So, on the most random day you take the train, you spot him in a taxi?"

"Yeah." I mutter, looking away from her, chugging my leftover coffee.”

"And why did you take the train again?"

"I'm hungover from last night. Was out late with Luis." I explain shortly, pointing my fork towards the bored cameraman.

I watch him fidgeting with his camera lens, across the room, not looking very happy.

"He doesn't look good at all." She observes, opening up a pack of gummies.

"He was hitting it off with this girl, but I spilled my drink on him." I wince at the last memory of last night, still trying to rack my mind for the other memories.

"She asked if I was his girlfriend." I add, wanting to hit my head against my desk, but it was pounding enough from earlier anyway.

This was probably my punishment for not letting him have a good time..

"That's shitty.." Lina disapproves, clicking her tongue at me.

"I was drunk, okay? I'm the first person rooting for him and his love life, you know that."

"You need to root for your own love life. You’ve literally been single since I've known you."

Here we go again.

"I don't need a man. I need money, so stop talking and please continue helping me with this draft.”

"You look tired, man. Did you rest properly?"

Jude looks up from his seat in the cafeteria, teammates surrounding him as they all chat about what they did on their days off. 

"No, I'm good- just thinking of what to eat." He replies, looking at Brahim. Sending him an appreciative smile at how observant his teammate is.

Throughout his months in Madrid, he had been having an absolute blast bonding and becoming familiar with his new teammates.

Even with the barriers of language, he had found it interesting how everyone could understand each other so well- even with the jumble of languages thrown around during training and in the locker rooms.

He had his Spanish lessons, of course, and they were helping immensely. But Jude had to admit to himself, though his ego- not speaking the language fluently did make him feel left out of certain things on occasion.

Small jokes, little silly comments. Things he could only understand after someone was nice enough to translate them quickly.

He didn’t think anyone would notice, not like they’d care, but from a short distance, y/n did notice.

When she would step onto the pitch during training, interviews, even the small chats in the gym.

He was unaware of it, even now as, she sat on the other side of the room, having lunch with her own group of colleagues.

Jude hadn’t picked up on the pitying look on her face, or the way she would glance away when he’d look in her direction.

Slowly and unknowingly, the translating became a habit. Some things she would even say in English unconsciously when talking to the team.

It wasn't anyone's fault, obviously. Only a matter of time and practice could make sure he'd fit even better with his new team. Undoubtedly, his new home for the next couple years.

"What's with her, though? I thought she was capable enough to murder me with her stare alone.."

"I've never seen y/n look like that."

Jude perks up at the name, though not understanding every single word. His eyes scan the table to see who's decided to speak about the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about since last night.

His eyes land on the guys he's closest to, the very much loved French duo in the team.

Leaning in, and taking a sip of his water, he speaks to them.

"What is with her?" He asks, trying to sound as clueless and uninterested as possible, but the two men glance at each other. A knowing, teasing look in both their eyes.

"y/n, she looks bad today.." Aurélien speaks, informing him.

Jude frowns at the words, probably a translation mistake, he thinks.

"Know about it?" Eduardo jumps in, sending a questioning look to the number five.

"No, just curious about what you guys are talking about.”

He mutters, keeping his volume down, not to attract the attention of the other players.

He didn't want anyone to speak about this, about what she looked like, what she did, not about her.

He pokes his tongue into the inside of his cheek, mind pondering. A stinging and burning sensation of jealousy and protectiveness twisting his thoughts.

It’s just the sleeplessness, he thinks, it’s making him go insanely delusional. He huffs, shaking his head in dismissal.

"My dad is coming back home in two days.."

"Okay.."

"He will handle your case as a first priority. Tell your mom."

"Okay."

y/n twists her neck in annoyance, scrolling through her phone. Ever since those rumors, from back in London- she had a crazy feeling of being actively witch hunted online.

Even so, she had decided yesterday not to give a fuck anymore. Scrolling through her Instagram explore page and blocking every single football drama account she saw.

Out of sight, out of mind.

"Will you respond like a normal human being? Ai has better responses than you."

"What do you want me to say? Jump up and celebrate?"

She sighs, kicking her feet up and making herself comfortable on the couch.

Should she bite the bullet and ask again?

"Jude.."

An annoyed grumble is heard in response.

"Did we, you know, do something. Is that why you're being so, awkward?"

She practically dies inside at her own words, obviously sexual in undertone. Wanting to smack herself right in the face.

Really? That's what she asked?

She resisted the urge to walk into the bathroom and grab the superglue to glue her mouth shut.

She should just never speak again. Problem solved.

y/n raises her head reluctantly to watch his reaction, surprise clad all his face. 

"Are you crazy? I wouldn't touch you- especially, when you're drunk, and wailing out for your mother.."

Jude stops, mentally cursing himself for blurting out those stupid words.

Had he gone too far? Confessing to too much information he didn't have to share?

Was it something he should have kept between himself and whatever deity or anything that watched over the universe?

Her blood practically stops pumping, and the shock of his words make her stop mid-overthinking.

Her mother?

She'd let herself get that vulnerable, to the point of speaking of her mother?

A silence falls between the two, the both of them wishing they'd kept their mouths closed.

"When did I?" She cuts the tension with her shaky words, avoiding eye contact as she sits up.

How could she let that happen? Yes, of course, the absence of a mother could be noticed in her life, and others not very close to her could be curious.

It was a very sensitive matter to her, and the wound of grieving could be one that would feel fresh years and even decades later.

"Last night- No, the day before yesterday.." He says, voice deeper than usual.

'Idiot, you should go on a detox and never, ever touch something as simple as a shot of vodka.'

The thoughts and assumptions brew in her mind, and she takes a breath before asking.

"Was it bad?"

Night terrors, they weren't something she had carried into her adult life, at least not lately.

They became a thing after the fact, and therapy sessions during her teenage years in England had definitely helped immensely.

She did notice changes in her behavior when confronted with the idea of not having a mother, even later in life. She could have as many women in her live as possible, but eventually she felt as if nothing could ever compare to a mother’s love.

And that, that was still confronting to know years later.

It brewed jealousy in her mind and soul. Seeing Luis go on brunch dates with his mother. Amira talking about the fashion shows she'd attended with her mom.

And Jude..

The relationship he had with his mother was absolutely beautiful, so beautiful she couldn't help the pit forming in her stomach when they interacted.

Even when his mother came over to her house to check up on them. Not that the two adults needed it, a mother's love is to care for her child. In more ways than just saying, 'I love you' or 'Do you need any help?'.

It was also watching and observing, allowing your child to grow up into a beautiful human being while staying healthy and being there for them.

"No, not at all." He lies, it's for the best, he thinks.

Judging from her expression, there is no need for more embarrassment or honesty that will turn sour.

y/n nods her head, and realizing her slipping mental state and thoughts, she stands up.

"I'll go to bed early tonight.." She mumbles, not bothering to hear his response, feet hitting the staircase with haste and impatience as she retreats into the comfort of her own room.

Leaving a confused, conflicted Jude behind in the living room.

Pity, is all he could describe the empty feeling. Words he wants to say, like bile, rising up to his throat, only to never leave his mouth.

"Make sure you have your dress ready, y/n. I don't want you scrambling to the mall the day before the party." My dad speaks, placing his apron on the hook beside the kitchen counter.

"Come on-"

I huff, rolling my eyes as if to dismiss his words.

"You did it last year, and the year before that."

He had been back for- not even twenty-four hours, and all he did was; nag, complain, and nag some more.

Thankfully, I had cleaned up the house a little before he arrived, so that would be a topic avoided today.

"Did you vacuum the stairs too?"

Or not.

I open my mouth to give him a snarky reply, but he beats me.

"Never mind that, just make sure you have everything you need on time."

With the end of the year coming closer, the annual co-hosted New Year’s party between Real Madrid and my dad's firm would take place.

It was absolutely grand every time, and this year wouldn't be that much different from what I had heard from my father.

"Actually, you know, since I'm not a teenager anymore.." I begin, batting my eyelashes with sass.

"I planned my outfit with Amira's help, so don't you worry about last-minute mall runs."

"Good, I just hope it's not too short- even worse if it has ten different cutouts." He says, the exhaustion in his face way too visible.

His business trip, and the situation with Jude had probably been keeping him busy and up until late.

At least the party could help him unwind a bit.

"I assure you. No ten cutouts.."

"Alright, dinner is ready. Go ahead and call Jude down for me."

I grab the kitchen marble in annoyance, nails grazing it and making small scratching sounds.

"Can't I just shout from here?" I ask, pleading eyes looking at his.

"Now.." He warns again, pushing me away from the counter.

Jude and I hadn't talked more than five sentences, respectively, a day since that day. It felt weird, like I'd just been stripped naked and vulnerable, all for him to see.

But I'd been curious about him, even if I tried to deny it.

He'd been going out of the house more often, hanging with friends and teammates at their houses. Mostly, since I'd warned and threatened him early on about bringing people over, let alone anyone knowing we'd been living together for the past few weeks.

With a heavy heart, I walk up to his door, knocking harshly and jumbling out a 'dinner is ready' before dashing down the stairs, back into the kitchen.

So much, too much had happened within a short period of time, and I honestly couldn't even begin to process it head-on.

At least I had a warm meal to keep me occupied for now.

Oh, and lovely tension at the dinner table..

[pretty-little-mind33]

NON-MAGIC AU JAMES POTTER AND A FEM!READER WHO IS NERVOUS ABOUT THE GYM

Ask: hi hon! i saw your request were open and i was wondering if you could write about james with a reader who has a hard time with going to the gym and he's super patient with her and kinda helps her develop a healthy relationship with the gym? i totally understand if you don’t want to!! have a wonderful day hon and stay safe and hydrated 💐

~ this was such an adorable idea that i wanted to write something even if only in headcanon form! i hope you don't mind, lovie! thank you sm for requesting 🫶 ~

• James is so very strong! He's an athletic, muscular guy. ARMS FOR DAYS! He doesn't have any problems going to the gym. On the contrary, he loves the gym. It's his happy place and he's also made loads of friends there!

• (he makes friends wherever he goes.)

• It isn't until you're maybe 3-4 months into dating that James brings up the dreaded question; "You wanna to go to the gym with me?"

• The first three times he asks, your excuses work on him. "I'm not feeling super well!" - "I have plans with some friends, I'm sorry!" and even, "I'm on my period!" your understanding boyfriend doesn't bat an eye!

• However, James quickly picks up on some very obvious signs that the gym makes you uncomfortable because you'll avoid the topic entirely and become all shifty.

• Naturally, this prompts your mature (usually 😙) boyfriend to plop you down on his bed and have a conversation. When you open up about your insecurities, James listens patiently.

• "Love, why didn't you tell me you were feeling nervous and unsure? I'd never look down on you because you don't feel comfortable with something as trivial as the gym," James says and leans in to kiss your nose, his hand rubbing soothing circles over your thigh.

• "Really?" you ask, your tone small and he nods.

• "Really," he assures you.

• A few weeks later James had forgotten his water bottle at home, so being the good girlfriend you are, you bring it to him. When you see the gym James uses and realize it's very calm and everyone seems friendly, you gather the courage to ask James if you can accompany him next time.

• He's overjoyed! "Of course we can go, darling, I'll be with you the entire time! Okay?"

• When you go, you're still nervous and James can tell. He can always tell. He holds your hand, tightens your ponytail/pushes hair behind your ear (depending on hair length), and then kisses you.

• "I'm right here with you, darling. I'll show you how all the machine's work and be with you the entire time, okay? You don't need to be shy or nervous around me, I promise!" his words are calming and you feel better.

• You go try the machines that interest you and James helps you understand them by showing you. He's sooo patient with you, watching you with kind eyes as you try them out.

• "Don't forget to drink, lovely," he says, handing you your water bottle.

• If you run into any of his gym friends, you realize he's been gushing on and on about you. His friends all LOVE you instantly. Now you have even more people to help/watch over you which makes you feel safe!

• When you finish up, you're shy. "James?"

• "Yes, baby?" he says, walking back to the car with your gym bag (which he'd carefully prepared for you) and his slung over his arm. He wanted you to have your own so you could feel independent. He's considerate like that 😏

• "I might wanna go again. Make this a weekly thing? Once a week I could come with you?"

• James takes your hand and stop you from walking. He kisses both of your hands and looks into your hands. "I'd love to make this a weekly thing. Well take it slow, no need to rush, and soon I promise you'll feel better about the gym. I'm so proud of you!"

• HE ENDLESSLY PRAISES YOU AND REMINDS YOU HOW MUCH HE LOVES YOU AND HOW WELL YOU DID!

• James just loves sharing the things he loves with the people he loves, so your newfound interest in the gym makes him so happy!

• It doesn't take long for you to also like the gym, especially because James is there.

• He's not always hovering over you once you're used to the machines and the atmosphere. But he's always close! All you need is to look around and you see him somewhere!

• He also packs an extra shirt in his gym bag for you in case you become insecure (he doesn't tell you because he doesn't want to promote the feeling, just ease it if it happens 😊)

[bluestdai]

Munch Noah who doesn’t stop until you’re literally in tears from the overstimulation

In my head rent free 24/7

you speak my language (︶‿︶)

cause listennn, one thing leads to another and

you've been sitting on his face for almost an hour now, before this??? before thisss you were laying on your back with your legs open as wide as humanely possible cause noah wanted to eat you out and he wanted to go as deep as he could, you swear he looked like he was going crazy pushing your legs apart trying to stick his tongue deep inside you like he was trying to find something in there :))) "noah i cant.. i cant" your legs gave out after almost two hours of being open like that but he was eating you out so good that you waited this long to tell him to stop, "okay then you have to sit on my face" he was serious, "noah i just want to cum i cant keep going" and you were serious too :))) "but im not done?!?!? i need a little more" he wasn't taking no for an answer so he laid on the bed and you sat on his face, your ass covering most of his upper face :)) and that's how you ended up sitting on his face. you swear you've felt like you were about to cum like twelve time -actually you're not even sure cause you lost count- but he doesn't let you, everytime you're close he stops licking you and stays still then he starts licking you again, sticking his tongue soooo deep inside you that you feel his teeth touching you then when he gets to sucking on your clit -which feels sore at this point but he still knows how to put more pressure on it- his nose is deep inside your hole cause noooo he doesn't want to leave your hole empty for a second. his face is soaking wet, you could make a whole puddle with all the liquid you let out. "noah i need a break please" you whine cause you literally can't feel things probably anymore but does he listen?? no :)))) you try to get off his face but he locks his arms around your thighs and locks you in place, he licks you faster and your eyes start watering! are your eyes watering or are you literally breaking down crying cause you're so overstimulated you can't go on anymore??? more tears come running down your face and everytime you try to move noah grabs your thighs tighter and pushes his face into your core even more. you feel another orgasm building and you can't stop crying, your legs are shaking and you're whimpering in pain and pleasure your whole bodys twitching and when right when you think he'll stop he keeps going and he bites your swollen clit gently and you feel your vision going dark and your body emptying. if they'd tell you that you're dead you'd believe them :))))))

[ilovefictionalcuntymen]

✦ Calcharo - Stay ✦

A/N: You were acting reckless out on a mission and Calcharo is furious with you. He wants you to understand why he is so worried and it’s frustrating to him that you see everything so lacklustre.

Contains: Nsfw maybe a bit of angst idk?

It was quiet in the room, the only sound was coming from the old wooden door that creaked every few seconds. “You… don’t seem happy.” You said. You were sat on the bed, just having woken up from getting knocked out on the battlefield. You have a pretty deep wound, going from your shoulder across your collarbone. The attacker had aimed for your neck, however you had managed to dodge just in time to avoid a lethal wound. You were confused on why he had that stern expression on his face. You were fine. Shouldn’t he be happy you made it out without major injuries? Sure the wound would leave a nasty scar, but things like that happened.

“You don’t get it do you?” “Get what?” He huffed at your oblivious response, walking around in the room as his hand went through his hair. “Do you have any idea what could have happened after you pulled that stunt? I told you to stay back. Not only did you go against my orders, but you also almost got yourself killed.” He tried to remain composed. His voice was louder than usual and his tone very straight to the point. He was really holding back from shouting at you.

“I’m not a kid, I can take care-“ “You can take care of yourself, huh? Look where that got you! I told you to stay back and wait for my orders, but you decided run in, without my signal, almost getting yourself killed!” You flinched as he shouted at you. Your eyes went wide and you slightly pulled back, your back pressed tightly against the wall behind you. He had never shouted at you. He was always calm and composed, he tried to be as understanding as possible and never got visibly mad at you. But this time was different. His breath was ragged, his eyes wide and his fist clenched while he looked at you. “Do you have any idea how stupid what you did was?!”

“H-He was weakened! I saw a chance and I decided to-“ “Decided to what?! To ignore my command and blindly charge in?! I knew he had something up his sleeve, that’s why I told you to stay back!” He came closer, steps echoing in the almost empty and run down ‘hospital room’ of your hide out. “You always do this!” He said his hands shooting forward to count down on his fingers. “You never listen to my orders! You get yourself injured! You act reckless! You don’t pay attention to your surroundings! Name me one reason why I should still bring you with me when you’re such a danger to yourself!”

Your eyes widened further and your lip started to tremble. He was mad at you. Like really mad at you. Him shouting at you, completely enraged and disappointed in you made you tear up. You never could handle people shouting at you. Now that it especially came from Calcharo, it hurt even more. “I-I’m sorry… I o-only wanted to help, I-I only wanted to help….” You sniffled out between whimpers as you tried to wipe the snot that was starting to come from your nose.

His hard expression softened and that. Noticing that he had hurt you, he went to kneel down beside the bed you sat in, taking your face in his Hand after taking off his glove, wiping away a tear from your cheek. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He was just so frustrated that you kept being so stubborn and didn’t understand where he was coming from. “Hey… don’t cry, please.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disappoint you…” You kept sniffling. He sighed, resting his head against your shoulder. “I’m not disappointed.” He said. “I’m worried. Don’t you understand? I’ve already lost so many people on the battlefield, people that were dear to me. I don’t want you to meet the same fate as them, I can’t let you die on me. I know you can protect yourself, but sometimes that just isn’t enough. You tend to not think things through and end up making reckless decisions.” He lifted his head, looking into your teary eyes. “Just leave the decision making to me, please? Just listen to me. I have a reason for doing things the way I do. All I want you is to understand is that I’m scared of losing you. When I saw you get cut up by that bastard, I was scared shitless. You just laid on the floor with gallons of blood gushing out of you, I thought you would die.” He whispered the last part, not wanting to imagine what he would do if that actually were the case.

Seeing Calcharo open up like that was a rare occurrence. He rarely showed how he felt and liked to keep things inside, not wanting to show his vulnerability to others. Your eyes searched through his, seeing how genuine he was being. Maybe he was right. You did get hurt often and maybe this occasion, one where you could have easily died, just was the last straw for him. Could you blame him? You too, had lost many people and were afraid of loss. You would have been equally scared if the roles were switched. “Cal… I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” You sniffled a few more times, the tears having stopped now. “Promise?“ “I promise.”

He exhaled at that, turning your face more towards him, your forehead’s bumping together. “I’m sorry I upset you, flower. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Were you scared?” “A little…” You admitted. “But it’s fine now.“ He scoffed. “No it’s not. I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me. Ever…” He whispered, leaning in to kiss you. When your lips connected, all the pain from your wound and the argument was long forgotten. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

He slowly pushed you down, not separating from you until you were in a lying position with him hovering halfway above you. When your lips disconnected, you looked up to him with half lidded eyes. Seeing you splayed out underneath him, your hair all messy and your expression so tired, tugged at his heart. He had such a weak spot for you and he knew he couldn’t deny that. “I should go…” He whispered, the bed lifting as he shifted. He had to leave before he would act on his impulses, doing something that might make your state worse.

You felt a pang of loneliness as you saw him get up to leave. “Hey…” you said, holding onto his sleeve and tugging on it. “Don’t leave… please.” You pleaded with glazed eyes, still a bit teary from crying. “Don’t look at me like that, flower… you make it hard to resist.” “Then don’t.” You whispered. He sighed, hand going through his hair again. “You don’t understand.” He said hand cupping your cheek. “I want you. I want to feel you so bad, flower. The image of losing you alone causes me unimaginable pain. After almost loosing you I want nothing more but to feel you all around me. I want to drown in your scent.”

You felt your face heat up at that confession. He usually wasn’t that good with words. Hell, he was the most unromantic person you had dated yet. Perhaps this event did weigh more on him than you thought. You didn’t even know for how long you were passed out. This time it was you who took his face in your palms, connecting your lips and forcing him on top of you once more. This kiss was more passionate, it held more meaning and carried a certain desperation with it.

‘Don’t leave. Stay. Please stay. I need you.’

Calcharo knew what you wanted. He was still worried about your injury, but seeing how moving seemed just fine for you and the neediness you displayed, he decided to give in. Settling between your legs and taking off his jacket, he separated from you, kneeling while his eyes gazed at you like you were a precious artefact to be worshipped. When he was shirtless, he leaned down to kiss you again. The kiss was sloppy and needy, both of you clinging to the other. He pulled your shirt off, the light ragged pants following shortly after. You were mercenaries, you only had limited resources, thus you had to use old clothes for the injured.

Since your wound was close to your chest area, you weren’t covered there to not mess with the bandage and your chest was completely exposed. Your nipples immediately hardened upon meeting the cold air, making you gasp quietly. Without an ounce of hesitation, Calcharos mouth connected with your left nipple, sucking and nibbling on it while he caressed the other side of your chest with his thumb. He could never get enough of you. No matter how many times you made love, no matter how many times he’s been inside of you, it’ll always make him feel like he’s on cloud nine.

You let out high pitched squeaks and hoarse moans. Your nipples were so sensitive, immediately reacting to the slightest temperature change or friction. While he sensually kneading your chest, his tongue teasing your nipple, you roughly held onto his hair. You tugged at his roots which earned you a low growl. He hated it when people touched his hair, but when you did it? This man craved it. He would let you braid it, brush it, wash it, whatever you liked. But he especially loved it when you tugged on his hair while he was making you squirm under his touch.

He placed hickeys all over your chest, the whole area covered in purple reddish spots now. He pulled away, admiring his work and how flustered you looked. “Cal…” You whined out, tugging at his pants and making him chuckle. “Eager aren’t we?” He wasn’t making fun of you, he just loved teasing you, his tone always soft and deep, turning the space between your legs into a swimming pool. A swimming pool he loved diving into. He unbuckled his belt pulling his pants down to his thighs. You could already see how he was semi hard, the outline of his dick very visible. “Come here…” you whispered. It was more a plea than an order, but he complied regardless, placing his arm beside your head and the other on your thigh, pulling it closer against his hip and squeezing the flesh. While holding eye contact your hand went south, striving over his bulge and making him grunt while closing his eyes. You caressed him like that for a while until you got impatient. He went to connect your lips again and in the mean time your hand slipped underneath his underwear, wrapping itself around him and stroking him slowly. He groaned again and you continued with slow lazy strokes, feeling his dick become harder in your hand. His tongue roamed your mouth and you let out a moan, squeezing him in the process. He let out a strangled moan and pulled away, looking at you with furrowed brows and squint eyes. “Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me…” He said burying his head in the pillow next to your head. His nose nuzzled the crook of your neck along with his huffs that he couldn’t hold in from your tortious strokes.

He lifted your lower body with one hand while striving your panty off with the other, discarding it somewhere on the bed. “You smell so nice.” He mumbled as he buried his nose deeper into your neck. “I do?” “Yeah…” he admitted as he softly took your hand by your wrist, stopping you from stroking him further. “If you go on like this I’m going to finish without us starting.” He said with a scoff. You let out a small giggle at that, he really doesn’t last long. His stamina in combat was unmatched, but when it came to bed he for some reason could barely make it through the foreplay.

He pushed himself up, shifting and aligning himself in front of your aching core. “You have to tell me when it becomes too much… I don’t want to hurt you.” He softly let his fingers strive over your bandaged wound, making your breath hitch. You nodded and he smiled. His left hand wrapped around your thigh, rubbing comforting circles while the other cupped your cheek as he pushed inside you, making sure to watch your expression for any signs of discomfort.

However there weren’t any, all he saw was your eyes closing and your brows furrowing ever so slightly. Your lips parted, a small noise escaping you as his base hit your folds, all of his inches fully inside. He found it fascinating how you always to him so well, never complaining as his length disappeared behind your warm and soft walls. He let out a hiss as he started moving, his thrusts slow and gentle for now, wanting to build up to how much you were able to take in your state.

With a whine your hand reached out to him, wanting him to come closer again. “It’s cold…” You whined. “You feeling cold, flower?” He asked, finding the way you whined endearing. He laid himself on top of you again, making sure his weight wasn’t on you. His arms wrapped around your waist and he hugged you close, kissing from your chest up to your neck and then your jaw, making sure to avoid your injury. He was around you like a living blanket and it instantly made you feel warmer, wrapping your arms around his broad back. “Better?” He asked as he kissed you on your forehead. “Y-Yeah…” You breathed out, his movement starting to rile you up. His pace sped up and he started to hit deeper spots, making you whimper and clench onto his back. A thin layer of sweat started to coat his forehead and you could see the baby hairs that framed his face become damp.

His hair was splayed around the two of you like a curtain, the occasional strand falling from his back over his shoulder from his thrusts. You tugged one side of his hair behind his ear to get a better look at his face, nuzzling his cheek while you were at it. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as he let out a grunt, your gummy walls squeezing around him like you would never let him go. “Flower… stop teasing me.” He said between grunts. “I’m not doing anything.” You innocently said, a little smirk making its way to your lips. “You little tease.” He said as he pulled himself up again, removing his warmth from your body and making you whine. “That’s what you get for messing with me.” He said as he took your legs by the back of your knees, pressing the all the way up to your shoulders as he started thrusting deeper. You let out a loud moan, feeling him reach all your nice places this way as your head got foggy, moaning over and over again like a broken record with your fingers grabbing onto the sheets.

Seeing you like this, had him get lost in the act. Eyes glazed, boobs rocking with his rhythm and your tear stained cheeks, still covered in your dried tears from the argument before. You looked like the most seductive thing on earth to him. “Fuck… don’t look at me like that.” He said as his dick twitched inside of you, barely able to keep himself from coming. “Wanna enjoy this with you a little longer…” He kept groaning and huffing, his movement becoming more sloppy.

After a few minutes he couldn’t hold it in anymore, the tension between his brows disappeared and his eyes closed as he came, his load nestling itself inside of your womb as he lazily rode out his orgasm. The sight of you was just too much for him.

As he finished he opened his eyes, looking into your fucked out ones. Of course he wasn’t done yet. After all you still had some way to go until you released. With a chuckle he hoisted up your legs over his shoulders, trapping you between him and the bed.

“Don’t worry flower, I can go for a round two.”

———————————————————————

The way this man got me feeling ain’t normal. Like I can barely play the game because I just look at him too much? Idc what boss I’m fighting, he can go electro against electro resistance, my mans never going to get switched out.

You can request any time you like I also do other characters. (Especially if they serve cunt)

Love y’all stay safe <3

[smuttyazrael]

Can you maybe do a smut where sirius is fucking female reader in his padfoot form while readers brother james is hilding her open and licker her up and maybe also fucking her while sirius fucks james as padfoot or in human form? Only if your comfortable

Loving Jamie

Word count: 885

Summary: James's sister loves her brother James. James wants to share that with Sirius.

Warnings: Sexual intercourse, fingering, beastiality (sorta, I don't really classify it as personally because its still a human with human thoughts even if he turns into a dog.) anal, oral, threesome, incest.

"Jamie!" You yell getting home from hanging out with your friends. Both of you are home from Hogwarts. Mom and dad are at work. Last you saw Sirius was over as well.

You run up the stairs calling his name. Your short black skirt bouncing as you go. Your tits are bouncing around your red crop top.

"In here, Y/N" you hear your brother James yells from what sounds like his room. You walk to his room and walk in. You see him sitting on his bed reading and a black dog lying on the bed napping.

"Jamie! How was your day?" You squeal bouncing on to his bed waking the dog. "Sorry puppy." You pet the dog beside you.

"It was calm. Sirius and I planned some pranks for back at Hogwarts then we talked about when Remus and Peter get here. Remus will be coming for the full moon. So you need to be good." James tells you.

"I will be. I hope Remus will be okay for the full moon." You say with a frown on your face.

"He will be, princess." James replies while getting up.

"Where you going?" You ask concerned.

"Gotta pee." James turns to tell you as he's walking out the door.

Slowly the dog starts nudging you. You can feel its cold nose press against your belly. You laugh rolling onto your back. He walks aroud the bed sniffing you will you giggling at the snorts and sniffle noises he is making.

He reaches your pussy and bats his nose against you clit. You moan. "Puppy. Silly puppy." You say patting his head thats in between your legs.

The dog shoves his nose into your pussy. You let out a gasp. The dog starts licking your pussy and this causes his nose to rub your clit. You grab on to the sheets moaning loudly.

"Puppy. You can't do that." You gasp out between moans. The dog just keeps licking and you get slick with your juice. The dog licks faster rubbing your clit faster causing you to moan louder.

"Getting your pussy licked, Princess." You hear James say. "Does it feel good?" He comes and whispers in your ear. He pulls your top above your tits and rolls your nipples in between his fingers.

"Yeah, Jamie. It feels so good." You moan out. "I'm gonna cum, puppy!" You yell out your pussy tightening over air. You feel empty as you cum squirting your juice for the puppy to lick up.

The puppy licks it up happily. James leans over kissing you. "Jamie, I need more." You beg him as he pulls away.

"You want more. Greedy little princess." James says pulling away.

He pulls his pants off. His hard cock hiting his abs with a thwack. He pushes himself in between the puppy and you. He rubs his cock around your pussy gathering you slick. He then thrusts into you. You and him both groan out. The puppy behind James. He groans out.

"Lick my balls." He says. You give him a confused look as he thrusts into you. "Puppy is licking my ass."

He suddenly moans out and you see the puppy above James's shoulders. You look down and see James's cock thrusting in and out of you and puppy's cock thrusting in and out of James. You moan. All of a sudden you see Sirius on top of James. You jump in shock. James moans as he sinks deeper into your cunt.

"Fuck James. You feel amazing." Sirius says thrusting in and out of James. "Play with her clit."

James reaches down flicking your little bean and sucking on your tit. Your nipple rolling between his teeth. He switches sides. Causing you to clamp down on him cumming hard with a scream. He yells out cumming deep into you coating your walls in his cum. Sirius groan cumming with him, into James's hole.

Sirius and James roll off of you. James pulling out of you. You whimper missing the feeling. "You want Sirius's cock baby girl?" James asks panting beside you looking into your eyes. You nod.

Sirius climbs over James and flips you over. He lifts your butt so it is in the air and thrusts into you in one hard thrust with his wet cock. He pounds you into the mattress. Your tits bouncing with every thrust. Your clawing the mattress moaning like an animal. He reaches down and rubs your clit. You feel the coil in your belly tighten. Your moans become a higher pitch. Sirius just smirks at James. You cum clamping down on him milking him as he cums. He groans and pulls out after. He rolls off of you into the spot James just vacated.

"How was that princess?" Sirius asks you while panting still.

"Thank you Siri." You say cuddling up to his chest. Not having anymore energy. He wraps his arms around you.

"Lets all get some sleep we need it." James tells you all.

You just nod against Sirius's chest. Closing your eyes and falling asleep almost instantly with Sirius's and James's cum dripping out of your pussy. Sirius rolls you two over so he is spooning you. He plays with your tits as you sleep, helping him calm down enough to fall asleep as well.

[kat651]

Hi,

I just reread your self harm elf posts again and was wondering if you would write something similar but with the reader being the one self harming?

Just thought I’d ask since I myself have struggled with this. If not that’s fine but I figured I’d ask

Love your writing so much btw

Elrond:

Elrond had spent the last hour searching for you. It was strange that you were able to do this to him, make him worried beyond what felt reasonable. Rivendell was a safe place. He knew that. But you always managed to make him panic. Always. 

Finally he decided to check your room. Occasionally you’d go in there during the day just to get some quiet. 

As he opened the door the sight before him caused him to gasp and tears to well up in his eyes. “Meleth, why?” He asked, briskly walking over to you and taking the knife before kneeling in front of you and gently taking your hands. “Why are you hurting yourself?” His eyes were brimmed with tears and his usual strong voice was wavering and choked. 

You didn’t answer and it felt like a punch to the gut for him. Elrond stood before lifting you out of the seat and seating you on your bed. “Don’t move I’ll be right back.” He whispered, kissing your cheek before running off. 

When Elrond returned he had everything he would need to take care of your wounds. He knelt before you and gently began to clean and wrap your wrists. When he finished he rose and sat next to you. “What’s wrong my love? Why are you doing this?”

You looked up at him for a moment before sighing and hiding your face in his chest. “It’s all too much right now. I can’t take it.” You sobbed. 

“I’m here…you don’t have to do this alone.”

Lindir:

You tried to hide it from him. but of course, being the observant person he was, he noticed. 

“Love, what happened to your wrist?” He asked, gently grabbing your hand. 

You looked away refusing to answer and it broke Lindir’s fraigile heart. He gently cupped your face and placed a kiss on your nose. 

You sighed and hugged yourself. 

“Hey… look at me…” he whispered, gently tilting your chin up. “I’m not mad. You know that… right?”

You nodded. 

Lindir put an arm around you and pulled you out of the room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Thranduil:

When he first saw the cuts on your wrists he panicked. “Y/n, what happened? Why would you- are you ok?!” 

For a regal elf lord he sure did panic when it came to you. 

Once he calmed down enough he looked at you with sad eyes. “How long? How long have you been doing this and not telling me?”

Of course you didn’t answer which caused him to worry again. “Is it me? Am I the reason?”

You shook your head and he visibly relaxed. “I- ok…I just… I worry. A lot.”

“I know” you said, leaning against him.

Legolas:

Caught. 

Legolas had caught you red handed. Quite literally. “Y/n!” He yelled in a panic. Which of course caused tears to well in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. 

Realizing he had caused you to panic, he slowly wrapped you in his arms. “Darling what’s wrong?” He whispered as he subconsciously inspected your wrists before sliding his bag off his shoulder and digging through it with one hand until he located some bandages. “Talk to me sweetheart.” He whispered as he gently wrapped your arms. 

Haldir:

When he noticed the scars on your wrists he hesitated to say anything at first. He knew all too well that kind of pain. 

After a few days he finally spoke up. “Don’t do it again.” He said, not even looking over. 

“Do what?” You asked confused. 

Haldir grabbed your hand and slid up your shirt sleeve. “This. Don’t do it.”

You pulled away and looked at your hands. 

Haldir sighed. Emotions were hard but he needed to try. He knelt in front of you and gently took your hands. “Look at me…”

You slowly met his gaze and to your surprise there was pain etched in his eyes. “Please don’t hurt yourself. If you want to hurt someone hurt me.”

“What? No!” 

Haldir gently took your face in his hands and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Please don’t do this to yourself. I…” he paused and took a breath. “I love you too much to watch you do this… please, if you’re struggling come talk to me. I’ll listen…”

[latenightdaydreams]

Omega recruit asking Alpha Colonel König to help with their heat.

Been on the team for a while now, a good soldier. Never had an issue with the suppressants before, but the Colonels scent is so addictive and the suppressants just don't work with him.

Alpha!König x Omega!Reader (Fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, knotty, love bite

1.5k word count

🐺

.

.

As you sit on your bed with your head in your hands, you’re still consumed with the scent of Colonel König. You pull your shirt closer to your nose. His smell lingers from him, correcting your posture. No matter how much you try, you cannot seem to resist his scent, especially during heat. It doesn’t help that he’s a powerful Alpha that is still kind and treats Omegas with respect. 

After a few moments of thinking, you stand quickly and march towards your room door. You walk through base with purpose, praying König is still in his office, tail wagging slightly from anxiety. Are you truly about to do this?

Before you even knock on his office door, König sniffs the air, already smelling your approach. Your smell is aromatic and addictive. Whenever you’re in heat, König has a strong desire to reach out and claim you as his own, taste your slick, and bite the sweet neck. Yet, he remains calm and neutral around you.

You knock on his door, your heart beating so loud you can hear it. 

“Come in.” König’s Austrian accent carries through the door. 

Slowly you turn the knob, entering his office. Your eyes fall on König’s pale blue, his tail wagging and ears relaxed. The door falls closed behind you as you walk forward. There is an anxious look on your face as you sit, looking at the floor.

“What brings you in, Schatz?” König leans back in his chair; his eyes drift up and down your body.

“I have to ask something of you.” You look up to meet his gaze.

König nods, waiting for you to continue. He’s having a hard time concentrating on the powerful smell of you in heat.

“I- this is embarrassing…”

“Don’t be embarrassed, go on.” 

“I want to ask if you might… well…help with my heat.” Your ears lay down as you wait for his response. Your body is riddled with anxiety.

König takes a deep breath in; all he can smell is you. The sweet slick and your arousal. Your neck is unmarked. “You want me? Are you sure you could…handle me?” He smiles, showing off his sharp canines.

“Yes.”

König raises his eyebrows; he wasn’t expecting such a confident answer from you. His tail wags faster as he leans forward to look at you better. “Well then, let’s not waste any time.” 

He stands from his desk and reaches his large hand out to you. You put your much smaller hand in his; surprised he accepted your request. König walks you from his office to the barrack, holding the door open for you to walk inside. 

As you enter, your senses get overwhelmed. His musk is everywhere. You can feel a chill run down your spine as König places a hand on your lower back. He gently guides you to his bed, wasting no time. You sit, his hands caress your face, dropping to your body. He’s hungry, starving, for just a taste of that slick. 

“May I undress you, Liebling?” 

You nod without hesitation, helping him undress you. The more layers that were removed from your body, the stronger your smell becomes. A low growl escapes his lips as he gazes down at you in only your underwear. Your perfect breasts are visible for him to enjoy. 

He moves in closer to smell you. His nose pressing into the nap of your neck. It takes everything in him to not mark you at this moment as his lips graze the sensitive skin. His kisses begin to move down your body, smelling the valley between your breasts as he moves down.

You gaze down at him, your excitement almost too much. Every soft kiss makes your body tingle. König gently pulls down your soft white panties to expose your soaking wet pussy to him. He puts his nose close to your pussy and takes a long deep breath, your scent pure with no filters. You smell like the sweetest treat. He’s never smelled anything like this before. You’re the one.

“You…you smell exquisite.” His voice came out with a deep huff. 

After a moment of anticipation, he leans in and begins to devour that sweet little cunt. His long tongue lapping at every inch of your pussy. Your taste consumes him as he moves lower, pushing his tongue into your tight little hole.

You fall back on to his bed as he grabs your legs and pulls them over his shoulder. A loud moan escapes from your lips as he tongue swirls inside of your cunt. “König.” 

His eyes flicker up to look at your body as you squirm. Your breasts jiggle as you move. “You’re beautiful, Liebling.” He whispers before going back to your cunt. His tongue flicks over your click rapidly as your body contorts from ecstasy. Right as you’re on the edge of an orgasm, König pulls away with a smirk. 

“You can’t cum without me, Liebling.” König chuckles standing up, undressing himself with haste. His eyes are glued to your wet pretty pussy.

As his boxers drop to the ground your eyes go wide seeing how ginormous his cock is. You can’t wait to feel it stretch you, feeling his fat knot inside. König would see by the look in your eyes that you’re not intimidated by his size, instead you seem to desire him more.

“Are you ready for me?” He grasps his cock at the base and moves closer to you. You nod and gaze into his eyes. “Get on all fours.”

You quickly sit up and turn to get on all fours, your pussy tingling. König steps behind you and lines himself up with your entrance. His hand runs down your back, feeling the curve of your body.

König’s hands settle on your hips, pulling you to him as he pushes forward into you. A soft moan leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his fat cock press into you. Your hands grasp the bedsheets in front of you. A low growl slips from his lips as he watches your pussy stretch intently. 

He pushes in more and your back begins to arch from the feeling of being torn in two. “Oh, fuck König.”

A cocky smile appears on his face as he listens to your reaction. You're perfect. The way you smell, taste, the way your pussy is just sucking him into it more. You have such a perfectly tight and warm pussy. It’s his now, you’re his.

His hips pull back and slam against you again, your walls flutter around him in response. There is no gentle love making, König’s been craving you for too long to take his time. Your slick is completely covering his cock now, spreading to his pubic hair as he continues to ram his cock into you.  

You lose your strength and fall forward into the bed, ass still up in the air. Your body quivers from the blissful pleasure his cock gives you. One of his hands snakes up your back and pulls you back to him by your hair, wrapping his other hand around your neck to hold you.

“Is this what you needed? To get fucked?”

“Yes, König…yes.” You gasp in moans. His free hand snakes around to your bouncing breasts and squeezes them.

“Are you close again?” He knows the answer is yes as you slowly squeeze around his length.

“Y-yes…please…can I cum?” You beg so pathetically; how can König say no?

“Yes. Cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, craving the feeling of his teeth in your skin.

A strong sensation builds from your cunt and releases throughout your whole body making you almost go limp in his grasp. Loud moans escape your mouth, thanking König for letting you cum. 

Such an obedient Omega.

The tightness of your pussy mixed with your scent overwhelming his senses was driving König over the edge. He pulls out and climbs on to the bed, sitting at the edge. His hands wrap around your body, lifting you to place you on his lap. 

König’s cock slips right back into your pussy, your release making you wetter than before. His blue eyes gaze into yours as his hands wrap underneath your ass, bouncing you on his cock.

“Tell me you want to be mine.” His eyes lock onto yours mixed with so much emotion. 

“I want to be yours König.” You moan out as he impales you on his cock.

“Forever?” He grunts.

“Yes, forever.” 

König gazes into your eyes and slowly lowers you down more on to his cock, watching your face as he gently shoves his knot into you. Your jaw drops open and gasps, fingers digging into his chest.

“You’ve got this, you can take it.” His voice was so gentle, his eyebrows pinched together. 

A wave of pain rushes through you until you’re finally seated all the way down on his cock. You let out gasping breaths as his cock throbs deeply inside of you, covering your fertile walls with his cum. He leans forward, tilting your head to the side slightly. 

You let out a soft whimper as König digs his teeth deep into the crook of your neck. He bites down hard, breaking the skin and marking you as his. His and his alone. When he pulls his mouth away, he looks at the mark he’s left on your skin.

“Mine. Only mine. Okay?” His voice demanding showing he’s serious.

“Only yours.” 

König moves back on the bed with you still attached to him, making the bed comfortable for the two of you to lay in for the next few hours while you’re stuck to him. His arms wrap around you, holding you to him tightly as he kisses you all over and whispers sweet nothings to you.

[desires-of-chain]

Just ignore me if this makes you uncomfortable but I just wanna run this idea by you and see if you fuck with it because I just need to let this out. I don’t think Twilight shaves… but I kinda like that and I need to know if I’m outta my mind or not

Just being absolutely cock drunk on Twilight. He’s teasing you without even knowing it and your mind has been plagued with all these dirty thoughts of just him in every way possible. And you two are getting ready for bed, and as he takes off his tunic you can see the bit of the happy trail he has, leading you to what you want most. It’s like it hypnotized you and you drop to your knees, hands flying to grab onto his toned thighs. You look at him with pleading, begging eyes, already feeling a heat begin to burn between your legs just from seeing him from below.

So what’s going to happen? You’re gonna give him the most toe curling, eye rolling, sweaty, sloppy, head that you can give. He sits on the bed, looking down at you with heavy eyes and ragged breath. You’ve only gotten his pants unbuttoned, not bothering to take them all the way off. You were practicing drooling before anything was in your mouth yet. The sight of his cock was too much, heavy, thick and already twitching. You dive down to lick a long stripe from base to tip. Just that one action had Twilight wrapped around your finger. Once you had the tip in your mouth it was over for him. Slurping and sucking and swirling your tongue all around his cock had him moaning and leaning his head back. His hand gently rested in your hair to keep you steady, but ultimately had to hold himself back from just having you deep throat him.

To his surprise, that’s exactly what you gave him. He didn’t even need task! You were always so obedient for him~ Deeper and deeper his dick went down your throat, all the way until your nose hit the small tuff of hair at the base of him. What you did afterwards was the last thing he expected. In a lustful haze, you grabbed the back of him, your hands resting just above his ass and inhaled his scent. It was musky but heavenly. It just smelled like him, and it was Intoxicating. And then you really let lose on him, moaning against his cock while you sucked him off like he was the sweetest popsicle you ever exist. Your eyes had hearts in them as you look up to see your beloved Twilight with his head thrown back and mouth wide open and letting out the most naughty of noises. Heavy breaths and growled out groans that made your pussy throb just at the sound. Only when he came down your throat in large bursts is when you were satisfied. But even then you knew he would want more, and why would you say no to that ;)

HOLY FUCK- *chokes*

I DO FUCK WITH THIS. GOD, SUCH A GOOD ASS MEAL LIKE IM DEVOURING IT. Twi def does not shave, trim? yeah if it's getting a little too wild or if it's being an inconvenience. Outta yer mind? bestie, i said your mind is PERFECT.

[prismatoxic]

you know, I was joking about the m/f thing, because it's my burden to bear--if those ships make me uncomfortable, I need to make sure to block their tags and not engage with the content, bc there's nothing morally wrong with it or the people who enjoy it. the times I've brought it up are me venting about my own annoying feelings, but I don't want to give the wrong impression. if you ship m/f of ANY kind, dunmeshi or otherwise, I support you! I hope you're having a fun!

and the reason I felt compelled to say this is that I have now seen the absolute horseshit "there's too much yaoi in this fandom" take cross my dash and I do not want anyone thinking I'm perpetuating that bullshit mentality.

maybe the op was a joke, but the people in the tags were not joking. like calling m/m ships "heteronormative" or boring or whatever. being rude about shippers. that is the sort of toxic garbage I want to avoid, and I'm sorry if I only contributed to it by joking about my own tastes, bc I feel like I kind of did.

if you think some ships are inherently better than others, or that some shippers are stupid or unimaginative or, heaven forbid, less queer for shipping certain things, get the fuck out! I want nothing to do with you. you're wrong and you make fandom a bad place.

I have weird hangups about m/f with my fave characters in a lot of fandoms, and those issues are personal in nature and unrelated to the quality of the ship. I'm begging more people to recognize the same thing within themselves. people shipping more m/m than whatever your fave is are not fucking hurting you, and whatever your issues are, they're YOURS to deal with. same for any other dynamic, or headcanon, or whatever. stop resenting other fans for enjoying the series differently than you do.

[toytulini]

god i really went THREE FUCKING YRS without getting sick i was being so goddamn careful but then my parents got smth and foolish me, didnt step up the level of precaution i was taking around them, and lo and behold, im almost definitely sick

[fairy-angel222]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯! 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

He’s been stealing your panties since the week he met you. Collecting them in different pretty colors and fabrics. Using them to jerk off every night with the groan of your name. Stuffing them under his nose or using them to stroke his cock, either way had him cumming to the thought of you all the same.

He takes your stuff and holds them over your head. Watching your tits bounce as you whined and struggled to reach. Smirking widely as he teased, “if you want it back so bad then kiss me.” Blood rushing to his cock when you actually get on your tip toes to kiss him shortly, forcing your lips to stay on his when you try to pull away.

Who pretends to be asleep until he hears your soft moans at one in the morning. Quietly cracking open your door to watch you touch yourself, his hard cock already in hand as you moaned and mewled so fucking prettily. Stroking at the pace of your desperately working fingers till you two orgasm at the same time.

Who ‘accidentally’ sends you a video of him lazily jerking off on his bed, his lip in between his teeth and his other hand behind his head as he looks directly into the camera. The message coming through followed by a small “oops, sorry sweetheart, wrong person”

Who starts getting bolder and bolder even after you suspect him of being the reason for your missing underwear. Leaving slight yet noticeable touches to your ass and boobs whenever he had the chance. Always laughing it off and joking about how soft you were and about how perfectly your tits fit in his hand.

Who calls you up to his room when he’s about to cum, his lips parting in heavy breaths as you walked in clad in your short pajama set. Your eyes widening as he fisted his length, eyes meeting yours with a loud groan as he spilled onto his hand. “Shit, can you grab me that box of tissue?” Letting out heavy breaths with a dark grin.

Who starts walking around the house with nothing but low hanging sweats to get you flustered. Brushing up against you or wrapping his toned arms around your body. His rock like abs against your back as he whispered into your ear. “Well these shorts are shorter than usual.” Loving the way your face heated up for him.

Who starts to make you sit in his lap for everything. Saying that you weren’t allowed to watch tv unless you did it from his lap. Or that you couldn’t seat at the table to eat breakfast unless it was again, on his lap.

Who suddenly wants to spend all his time with you so that you couldn’t go out as often. He wanted you, and would make you his at some point.

Who finally sinks his cock into your tight pussy after teasing you subtly all day. “Waited so long for this.” He grunted, his thumb running over your bottom lip which was swollen from all his rough kissing. “Feels even better than i expected.”

You cried out loudly, small whimpers falling past your parted lips as his hold on your legs tightened. Holding them in place over his shoulders as he fucked into you harshly. Thick cot brushing against your g spot as it hammered deep.

“That’s it, just take it baby. Please mama? Take it f’me yeah?” He breathed, his head in your neck as he licked and sucked dark marks onto your skin. Snapping his hips into yours in oute need, not being able to get enough of the moment that he dreamed for so long about.

“Does that feel good baby?” Watching as you nodded with a teary cry, your eyes fluttering shut as your back arched off his sheets.

“Look at me.” he groaned, your eyes peeling open to meet his as you both filled the room with your noises. “Wanna fill you up so bad, pussy’s so fucking perfect.”

“S-satoruu— nngh,”

“Oh fuck baby, let me hear my name again.” He breathed, hand snaking lightly around your neck. Your choked moans and babbles getting louder as your stomach tightened. Gojo never slowing his pace as he fucked you dumb.

“Haah, Sat-oruu, ahh,” you mewled, your pussy tightening as your body began to tremble. Gripping onto the sheets at your side at the orgasmic build up.

“Can feel you getting close, squeezing me so tight,” Gojo grunted, lewd squelching sounds filling your ears each time his cock bullied its way deep. “I’ve got you baby, cum f’me.” His hand squeezed down on your throat, your wet eyes meeting piercing blue ones with a chant of his name. His cock twitching inside you as your pussy messily thanked his cock.

“O-oh fuck- ‘m never letting you go you know that? Wanted you for way too long.” His eyes fixed on yours as you shook your head.

You felt so good, and he found him self unable to come to a stop even as he got close.

“S-satoru—”

“C-can’t baby, feels so good, shit— gotta cum in you.” Pressing his lips onto yours to muffle your whines as he gave his final sloppy thrusts. His hips flush against yours as he buried himself deep inside you with a moan. His eyes rolling back as he spilled into you, pumping ropes after ropes of the sticky substance onto your walls.

Gojo pulled away with a satisfied breath, swiping his tongue across his lips with an unapologetic smile at the look on your face. “Sorry princess.”

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, soft dom nanami, praise, p in v, mdni.

husband nanami was a patient man. he treated you like glass, so delicate—he didn’t want to ever break you. with something as passionate as intimacy though, he made sure to go slow and take his precious time with you. after all, you were his baby. yet, there’d be one time where you ask for him to be a bit more rough. just a little, he playfully raises a eyebrow at you before swiping a thumb underneath your chin. “go r…rougher?” and his words were a mere sweet whisper.

“y- yes, ‘s okay, ‘ken,” you’d nod with a tiny tremor in your voice. as he’s giving you slow, deep strokes, the heel of your foot sensually rubs down against his back. pulling him closer to you, you coat the edge of his twitching pink lips with chaste kisses. “i can handle it, promise.”

“okay, sweetheart,” a soft, genuine smile pulls against the crevices of his mouth before he returns the kissing gesture, a candied mwah. grabbing your knees, he gently moves them up toward your jostling chest. “you’re so perfect,” he groans, hearing each lewd moan elicit out of your throat like it was nothing. “mhm, hold my hand. good girl,” he breathes, his sloppy hits against your core starting to quicken and you bite your lip. in a heaving voice, he buries his face into your neck. a strong musk of cologne wafting against your nostrils. “if you want me to go rougher, i’ll go rougher, my love. just for you.”

his pace was swift and gentle—mahogany colored irises of his continue to pour into your gaze. nanami feels his heart flutter once your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. with a single arm, you drag him further into you, another hand squeezing onto his. masses of fingers intertwine between each other as you moan from his touch. with nanami accelerating in a more quick pace, he presses a kiss against the bridge of your nose.

“t- this . . alright, sweetheart?” he asks in a soothing tone, an eyebrow entwining as he meets your loving stare. god, you were just so beautiful like this underneath him. he could stare at you all day and not get bored of your beauty right in front of him. “not going too hard, am i?”

“yes, ‘s good, baby.” you nod, feeling his grip against your left hand tighten just a bit more.

with a concise sharp piston of his hips, he’s more forward and he sibilates a groaning grunt the second he feels your soddened walls grip against him in such a compressing way. as if you thought you were clingy with nanami—your pussy was even greedier, hugging tightly onto his shaft as if you never wanted to let go. granted, you didn’t.

not now, not ever..

as you depart your fingers from his, you start to feel up against nanami’s bulky arm as he’s repeatedly jerking into you. he’s panting, blond strands of hair run down his face and he has to constantly shift his head back so he can look at you. he relishes in your cute expressions—his favorite part of intimacy was to just stare into those pretty eyes of yours that successfully captured his heart.

you moan again, your hand trailing down against the veins near his arms—he’s so beefy. your fingers then reach near his wrist. clammy digits of yours ghost against the frigid texture of his pricey g-shock that swaddles around his wrist. the watch’s been broken for years, but it was a gift from you so he still proudly wears it. flaunting it with a sweet smile on his face everytime.

“f- fuuuck,” you start to babble, feeling his twitching cock continue to pump you full of staggering inches. your ankles rub all against the outer sides of his back to where it almost tickles him. nanami’s moaning right with you—hot chest pressing up against yours. skin ruthlessly slapping so loud that it’s reverb echoes throughout the entire room. it’s like a song of its own, the bed chimes in to pitch a few notes as well from the constant melodic creaking. “don’t stop, kento. ‘s good, i love you.”

“sweetheart,” he inhales a sharp breath, dimples poking against the corners of his mouth. you’re so whiney, he grips against the fat of your thighs with a single hand before you feel him still bottoming out from the inside. “oh, dear. mhm, you drive me crazy, you know that?” and his voice was lighthearted, he was still moaning himself before he’s still stretching your walls out in the process. as his chest heaves, nanami presses a long, adoring kiss against your lips before he cups your chin. “i love you too. more than you could ever know..”

[gutsby]

License to Kill

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Marital bliss becomes a bloody massacre within hours of your wedding. Bucky has run the gamut of organized crime from gunrunning to public extortion, but an attempt on your life is a whole different ballgame. A honeymoon-turned-manhunt has Bucky out for blood.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Semi-public sex. Beefy, mob boss Bucky really wants to give you a baby. Praise kink. Size kink. Facefucking. Sex on a private jet. Attempted murder. Arms trafficking. Guerrilla warfare.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

Any postnuptial banquet was bound to be the talk of Santorini when a groom arrived beaten half to death.

At least that was what you’d told yourself, what had plagued your mind for hours before the start of brunch, and what Bucky presently refused to acknowledge with so much as a bat of his eye or a word spoken in between.

“You worry too much,” he said as he sheathed himself inside you for the third time that morning.

Bucky seized your throat in one hand and tilted your chin to make sure you were capable of eye contact while he fucked you in front of the mirror. It didn’t seem to bother him at all that the face in his own reflection was bruised, bloodied, and sewn up like a patchwork quilt behind you.

Hazards of the job, he’d said.

Three masked assailants breaking into your villa the first night of honeymooning? Customary. Being yanked out of bed and made to kneel as your husband took the beating of a lifetime just minutes after consummating your marriage? More common than you would think.

Bucky hadn’t even blinked when he got pistol whipped by a gold-plated Beretta. Didn’t flinch when he was held to a wall and pummeled like a freestanding punch bag.

Almost smiled when he took a hard right hook to the nose and felt a torrent of blood flood out of his nostrils.

If anyone were to be accused of behaving too calmly in a home invasion, it would be Bucky Barnes. It seemed as though he’d seen this all before and had no qualms about getting the shit kicked out of him every now and then. Why he hadn’t so much as lifted a finger to fight back was still beyond your comprehension, though.

At length, he tightened his grip on your neck and tried to smile, his upper lip slashed in two and bruised a grim, violet hue.

“Who’s my girl?” he murmured an inch from your ear.

You whined when he delivered a particularly hard thrust, both of your hands flying to the mirror to steady yourself as he pounded you from behind.

“I-I am,” you whimpered.

The stretch was still something you were getting used to, but now Bucky knew just how to spread you open without making it hurt. He’d glide a thick finger between your folds, slide it down to your clit, and leave it there as long as you’d let him, rubbing quick circles while you bucked and moaned under his touch. And, in spite of all his cuts and bruises, your husband made sure to kiss your shoulder every now and then to let you know he still loved you—even if he was fucking you like he didn’t.

Bucky trailed his lips behind your ear and watched you writhe in time with every stroke he gave. Pressed his face close to yours, watched a desperate, fucked-out expression take over your features, and smiled to himself knowing that no one but him got to see you like this.

“Who likes getting stuffed full of this cock?” he taunted.

“I do.”

“Who loves making daddy feel this good?”

“I do.”

He never thought the sound of your vows could be repeated out loud in such an obscene way—his sweet bride bent in half with a thick, throbbing cock wedged between her legs—but he loved it nonetheless.

Bucky was rutting his hips at a breakneck pace and holding your head to the mirror like he’d never let go. Your climax was quickly coming close into view, and you felt your toes curl in the hardwood floor beneath them.

Suddenly, the chirp of a ringtone diverted your attention.

Bucky brought his phone to his ear as he continued to pound you mercilessly.

“Yeah, Steve?”

The mob boss’s business never took a break, it seemed.

“So what?”

“Yeah, no, I heard you the first time.”

“Well, I’m plowing my wife right now, can it wait?”

Your cheeks warmed with embarrassment at Bucky’s blunt choice of words. You saw his brow pinch behind you, his thrusts getting faster and sloppier, and in spite of the distraction, you sensed he was getting close too.

You yourself were right on the brink. Your gaze met Bucky’s in the mirror with a soft, pleading look, and before you knew it, your husband was bidding an abrupt farewell to his friend and chucking his phone to the side.

“Ready to cum for me, honey?”

You whimpered and nodded.

“Alright then,” Bucky said with a near-expectant look, weaving the fingers of one hand into your hair and pulling it back, tight, “Cum all over daddy’s cock.”

With a shriek you feared might carry throughout the whole banquet hall, you finally reached your peak and released around Bucky’s length, tears springing to your eyes as you closed them tight and moaned his name.

And, ever the cheeky fuck, Bucky leaned right in and kissed the sides of your face to collect all the moisture he could—‘Shit, honey, you taste as good as you look’—while he smirked. Would’ve grinned even bigger if he wasn’t so overcome with pleasure; but, as it was, he couldn’t keep from blowing his load just seconds after the last spasms of your orgasm. Bucky leaned over your torso and squeezed your body tight to his, fucking his cum deep inside you as far as it could possibly go.

For a few, dizzying moments, the man’s mind wandered to more primal thoughts of making it stick, knocking you up, and Bucky had to clench his jaw hard to suppress the groans that were threatening to spill through his teeth. Every time he fucked you, it was like something just clicked; he couldn’t rid the thought of giving you a baby.

But no, for now, the two of you were still on wedding time; before you could jet off to your real honeymoon destination—someplace in the Caribbean, if Bucky remembered correctly—your mother had insisted that you host one post-wedding event that day: a brunch.

Naturally, that meant you were obliged to serve a four-course meal on the terrace of the Canaves Oia Hotel.

The mother of the bride had been one hell of a staunch advocate for keeping this wedding party going as long as possible, and who was Bucky to tell her no? He reasoned he would have plenty of time to get you pregnant after all the wedding festivities had ended, so he didn’t mind.

At present, you tugged your panties and your dress back into place with a wince.

“I think you displaced my cervix, James.”

Bucky couldn’t deny he felt the smallest twinge of pride seeing you walk a little funny to collect the rest of your belongings and attempt to freshen up. It also gave him the perfect excuse to scoop you back up in his arms and pretend to be apologetic about your present dilemma.

“Did I really?” he asked as you giggled and tried to swat him away, “I’m awfully sorry, Mrs. Barnes.”

“Like hell you are.”

With Bucky still draped over your body, proffering his apologies again and again as he assailed your face with tiny kisses, you’d barely made it two feet toward the door before you collapsed against a table and almost toppled a centerpiece. The pair of you would be expected outside any minute now, where the rest of your post-wedding party was likely trickling in and wondering where the hell the bride and groom had gone, but Bucky seemed adamant on keeping you to himself a little while longer.

That was until the back exit swung on its hinges and a familiar, frazzled groomsman stumbled in.

“Can you horndogs hurry the hell up?!”

So Sam had heard you after all.

You just might’ve blushed if you weren’t being pushed out the door a second later, the hurried, chiding tone of your husband’s friend ringing low in your ears.

“Your old man’s ready to hit the roof,” he mumbled to Bucky, “Won’t start drinking until you two show face.”

“Probably still thinks my bride escaped in the middle of the night,” Bucky mused, flitting a look to you.

The man behind rolled his eyes and continued to usher you both outside. Sam Wilson knew exactly what had happened last night; he’d been the one to bring in the cavalry to save you both from imminent death, after all.

As you had come to find out, Sam wasn’t just a friend of your husband’s but also a close associate of sorts—the kind that would wait in the wings and do whatever it took to keep Bucky safe. When the wait staff at the villa hadn’t been able to reach you for room service delivery last night, reporting some ‘strange sounds’ inside, Mr. Wilson had sprung into action. Called the rest of your husband’s entourage and was up to your room in minutes, where they’d dealt a swift, and final, blow to your attackers. You hadn’t asked many questions after—just thanked him. Profusely.

“You look like hell,” the man observed with a sidelong glance in his friend’s direction.

“Really? I feel great,” Bucky replied.

The three of you weaved through a crowd of partygoers—every single one of whom, without exception, stopped and stared at your husband’s mangled face as he passed—and you started to chew the inside of your cheek. People were gawking, talking amongst themselves as they wondered aloud what the hell could’ve happened to the groom overnight. You felt their stares turn to you in a mixture of pity and reproach, and you wanted to hide.

“Ja-ames!” a sing-song voice trilled across the way.

You, Bucky, and Sam all stopped in your tracks to regard the duo that was making their swift approach over.

Bucky’s mom and dad.

As the older couple drew near, you half-expected to see them take on the same wan, horror-stricken look worn by all those around you, but to your surprise, they didn’t.

In fact, they didn’t bat an eyelid. Seeing their son’s face all gnarled and bloody barely even registered.

“Good, you’re here! The photographers just arrived.” Bucky’s mother swept you into her arms for a brief embrace before shooting her son a frown. Your husband, in turn, offered her an apologetic peck on the cheek.

“Sorry, ma. We got caught up,” he said.

“Sure looks like it.”

That came from the elder Mr. Barnes, who had stopped to give his son a quick once-over. He looked amused.

“Get in a fight with a grizzly last night?” he quipped.

“Three, actually,” Sam answered for Bucky, who was already grinning from ear-to-ear—or as much as his facial lacerations would allow him.

You saw father and son exchange a brief, knowing look, before it was extinguished just as fast as it had come. Clearly, some sort of understanding had passed between them, and the old patriarch seemed pleased. Proud, even. You couldn’t begin to imagine why.

“The bruising shouldn’t be too hard to edit out of the wedding pictures,” Bucky’s mother turned to you as she started to lead the group away, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, “It’s those damn lesions on his face that always give us trouble.”

She spoke so coolly about the trauma done to her son it damn near chilled you to the bone. You never thought the wife of a mobster would be oblivious to all the violence, but to talk as though this were just another day in the life as far as brutal beatings went was a little unnerving.

You strolled along and silently wondered what the fuck was wrong with this family. Then you realized, slowly, that this was your family now. Your stomach twisted.

When you got to the garden where the photographers were stationed, you saw your parents waiting, enrapt.

And, in a matter of seconds, you watched their expressions morph from exuberance to confusion to outright trepidation. Your father was quick to look away, but your mother clearly couldn’t be bothered to stop ogling Bucky’s gruesome appearance. She forced a tight-lipped smile at the very last second and stretched her arms out to you as the five of you approached.

“You’re glowing, my dear.”

She hugged you and, over your shoulder, tried to mask a discomfited look.

Your mother and father exchanged pleasantries with the rest of the group but seemed loath to linger on Bucky for more than a minute. Like they couldn’t quite tell whether the honeymoon beatdown was fair game for discussion.

“Places, people!”

The photographers were lined up like a flock of paparazzi. Each standing, crouching, squatting with their cameras in their hands, trying to get just the right angle.

The person in charge quickly busied herself with directing and adjusting every one of your positions before the pictures were taken. Telling Bucky’s father to straighten his tie, your mother to brighten her smile, the bride to tilt her shoulders just a little bit more, and Bucky, would you please stop groping your wife?

That last command had come from his mother, actually. Bucky had been palming your ass above your dress, and his mom couldn’t stand the thought of one camera capturing such crude behavior.

“My hand slipped,” Bucky retorted, much to the amusement of a few photographers.

You and his mother gave him identical admonitory looks, but it was you who was close enough to say something.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak, though, an odd sense stopped you on a dime.

There was a warmth. In your panties. Then a slow and silent oozing sensation. You squeezed your thighs tight together and, instinctively, lowered your hand to your stomach, as if that would have any chance of stopping it.

A smirk tugged at Bucky’s lips just as the lead photographer told you all to smile and hold it.

“My cum dripping out already?” he whispered, low as he’d ever spoken but still too loud for you to bear. His parents were literally standing right there.

“Shut. Up.” You replied through gritted, smiling teeth.

“Chin to me, Mrs. Barnes,” the lady in charge called out.

You did as you were told, and Bucky’s hand on your side pressed the flesh ever so slightly.

A series of shuttering sounds, then another directive.

“Think it’ll stay in your panties?” Bucky managed delicately under his breath.

You didn’t respond. At length, his seed was seeping out of your underwear. You bared an even brighter smile for the cameras and tried not to flinch when he squeezed you again.

“Feel it sliding down your thighs?”

“Eyes forward, Mr. Barnes. Head up, and—here, please.”

The man could barely peel his gaze, much less his hands, from your body. He stroked your hip with his thumb. Then, without warning, that same hand slid down to your rear and pushed into the fabric. You sucked in a breath.

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“Behave,” you hissed, and from the corner of your eye you could’ve sworn you saw your mother turn her head.

Unfortunately for you, your husband would do no such thing. He just moved his hand even lower down your back and brushed the space around that spot with the tips of his fingers. You felt a shiver pass over you, along with a whole legion of goosebumps spreading fast across the skin.

If you weren’t on camera and surrounded by family, you probably would’ve liked to smack him upside the head.

As the cameras continued to fire away, Bucky’s touch trailed down to the outline of your panties through your dress and started rubbing small circles over the area.

“Now just the bride and groom!”

The rest of your family members stepped to the side, and it was only you and Bucky before the cameras now. Still smiling like bright, shiny dolls and communicating like ventriloquists, your lips barely moved as you spoke.

“How ‘bout I push it back in?”

“Barnes, I will kill you.”

“Now kiss!”

At the direction of the lead photographer, you kissed your husband and felt a mixture of lust, hate, and love swell up inside of you. When you pulled apart, it was the latter of these three that was searing hot in your veins.

“I love you,” Bucky murmured with a grin.

“I love you, too.”

The rest of the morning passed away in much the same fashion—being pulled from place to place, person to person, while your filthy-minded husband kept whispering in your ear all the depraved things he was planning to do to you once he got you alone. It was romantic, in a way; just terrible for your poor panties.

You reluctantly mingled and laughed with some of the most boring people you thought you’d ever met in your life—though perhaps you were a touch too horny to make a fair appraisal—and gradually, family and friends pulled you and Bucky further and further apart until you were just being carted around like show dogs and forced to hold the same conversation over and over again.

“You look stunning.”

“Buck’s a lucky guy, I’ll tell you that.”

“Are you planning on having kids any time soon?”

You just smiled, nodded, and didn’t have the guts to tell them that Bucky’s baby batter was baking inside you right now. That would’ve been a fun one to watch the reactions from your uptight, intrusive relatives, though.

And speaking of Bucky, where the fuck had he gone?

Just twenty minutes ago he’d sworn he would have you bent over one of the hotel balconies overlooking the Aegean Sea, and now he was nowhere to be found.

Your parents were currently preoccupied with their second helpings of spanakopita, your in-laws draining mojitos like water, and Sam, like Bucky, completely MIA. No one else had seen hide nor hair of your husband in a little while, and frankly, your legs were growing tired of looking.

You let out a small sigh of relief when you saw Bucky sitting a ways away on the terrace with Sam and Steve huddled on either side of him. They looked to be deep in discussion.

Steve, Stevie, Rogers, or, simply, your husband’s second in command, seemed strangely out of sorts as he clenched a fist and said something close to Bucky’s face.

You decided to let the three of them hash it out and to take a rain check on that balcony rendezvous for now.

At any rate, a pack of Pall Malls was calling your name.

You would fully concede this was a filthy habit you never should have started—like most fun things in life—but the reprieve of a nicotine buzz was too tempting to refuse. You grabbed your clutch and took off toward the far end of the lawn, set for a small alcove apart from the party.

You slipped the lighter and cigarettes from your bag as you walked. The scent of pure salt and sea foam greeted your senses as soon as you drew close to the spot—less than a stone’s throw away from the ocean.

Your hands had jammed the cancer stick in your mouth before your mind could make a single word of protest. You brought the lighter to life in your right palm and raised the flame to your cigarette until the end was lit.

Then you inhaled. Exhaled. Hoped no one would see you. You fanned the smoke from your face every so often.

You’d taken up residence on a bench just shy of the beach, and finally, you could stretch your legs and rest.

Maybe indulge in some disgusting thoughts about your husband while you were at it.

If you’d told yourself just twenty-four hours ago that your mind and body would be on the fritz craving Bucky’s touch, you wouldn’t have believed it. If someone had said sex, and cumming around someone you loved, was a worthwhile experience, you probably would’ve told them they were full of shit. But here you were, splayed out on a bench by the shoreline thinking of nothing but the way your husband’s cock felt inside you. Feeling his seed dried on your thigh and aching for a fourth helping.

You felt pathetic. Maybe you were.

In any case, you didn’t really care.

You brought the near-spent cigarette up to your lips for the last couple puffs. When you’d plucked it back out, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Bucky! Your lust-addled brain all but squealed.

You turned much quicker than you meant and nearly jumped in your skin to see who was standing there.

A grinning, bright-eyed blond.

In a panic, you flicked your cigarette over your shoulder and forced a smile.

“Hi.”

“Howdy.”

Okay, John Wayne, what the fuck? The man sounded, and looked, like something straight out of a western film.

“No need to stop on my account,” he tipped his chin toward the cigarette on the ground, “I won’t snitch.”

His smile took on a shade of condescension, but the face seemed friendly enough. Then, to your surprise, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved something small and silver from it. He held it out to you.

“Courtesy of your husband,” he said.

You frowned. A flask?

“It’s not even noon,” you answered.

“Bucky wanted me to relay the message that your mom invited a boatload more folks, and it don’t seem they’re fixin’ to leave anytime soon. Said you might need this.”

Gingerly, you accepted the gift and unscrewed the cap. You almost gagged when you got a whiff of pure vodka.

“Fuckin’ A,” you coughed, “What’s this, nail polish remover?”

“Stolichnaya. Can’t talk shit until you’ve tried it.”

Your eyes were still watering from the pungent stench of 80 proof spirits when you saw the man’s outstretched arm again—this time, to shake your hand.

“Joey, by the way.”

You shook his hand and introduced yourself as well, blinking back a few tears.

“You’re a friend of my husband’s?” you asked.

“From the service, yeah. We go way back.”

You couldn’t help but raise both brows in question.

“The service,” you repeated.

“Russian Armed Forces,” Joey smiled.

And when the hell did Bucky plan on telling you he was a former foreign operative? You stared at the man before you in a medley of confusion and disbelief. Surely the thick Southern drawl had to mean he was joking.

“Sorry—I thought you knew,” he said sheepishly.

Your husband’s old comrade seemed genuinely contrite, blushing a shade of pink as he turned his gaze from you. You quickly regained your composure and flashed him a smile, insisting it was fine, just surprising to you is all.

“Perks of arranged marriage,” you said, “We’re wed for life and I don’t even know the guy’s job title.”

That earned a laugh from the tall, gaunt figure in front of you. His features visibly relaxed, and he wasn’t smiling so smugly anymore. He motioned toward the bench.

“You mind?”

“Not at all.”

You fished for a cigarette as Joey sat down beside you. When he’d taken a seat, you offered it to him, and he politely accepted.

With time, the two of you got to smoking and joking around with a little more ease. You didn’t normally get to see that happen—rarely seizing the opportunity to make friends of near-strangers—but this weekend had already presented a bevy of firsts. What harm could a quick smoke break with Bucky’s old friend possibly do?

You found the man to be quick-witted and charming, if not marred by the slightest stain of conceit under the surface. He was objectively handsome: all cool, clean features with an unblemished demeanor and a set of brown eyes so light they almost appeared the color of honey in the sun. The only imperfection to be detected was a skewed, razor-thin scar on his chin. You weren’t ashamed to admit he might’ve been your type maybe four or five years, and several degrees of naïveté, earlier. But you had Bucky now; not even the most sublime, finely-chiseled Adonis could set your sights off of him.

You continued to smoke and shoot the shit.

“So you’re a Puritan, then?” Joey said at length.

“Huh?” You leaned back to stretch.

“You haven’t touched that flask.”

You glanced down at the silver canteen between you. You picked it up.

“Haven’t been into straight liquor since college,” you shrugged.

“But it’s your wedding weekend,” Joey smirked, “Think it says somewhere in the rule book you’ve gotta be hammered the whole time.”

“Does it? I must’ve missed that one,” you hummed.

Rather than answer you verbally, Bucky’s old friend opted to snag the flask from your fingers and unscrew the top himself. Made an unusually bold move and took your chin in his other hand.

“Open.”

“No!”

You bared a tight smile to be polite, but inside, you were more than a little put off by his behavior. Maybe this was some stupid rite of passage into their ‘brotherhood.’ You had to assume he was just being friendly.

“C’mon. Quit bitchin’ and open up,” he chuckled, pinching your face even tighter.

That left an even more sour taste in your mouth. You jerked your head to the left and were just about to inform the man it’d cost him nothing to fuck off and stay off, when a voice broke out through the foliage behind you.

“Honey? Hon, you there?”

Immediate relief at hearing your husband’s voice.

You craned your neck to look around.

“I’m here, Bucky!” You waved an arm to try and get his attention, wherever he was.

It took him a second, but shortly, he appeared on the other side of some trees. He had a stern, if not slightly sallow, look on his face as he made his way over.

You turned back to Joey but found that he’d vanished. Your eyes scanned the beach, the lawn, even the bushes behind you and couldn’t find a trace of him anywhere. All that was left was the flask.

“Bucky, I just—”

“We need to go,” your husband cut in.

His narrowed, steely gaze sent a jolt of apprehension through you.

“Go wh—”

“Now, baby, please. I’ll tell you in the car.”

Your face dropped.

“We’re leaving?”

Shortly, Steve trotted over. Bleak as you’d ever seen him with his hands balled in fists at his sides. And a deep-set scowl.

“Whole fuckin’ swarm of ‘em now,” he pronounced.

Bucky didn’t wait to hear another word. He just grabbed your hand and joined his friend sprinting back up the lawn. You could barely keep apace with their steps and, still clinging to Bucky, almost tripped and stumbled.

“Get the fuck up,” Steve spat.

You tensed. For a second, your feet scarcely moved of their own accord as you trailed behind Bucky and felt a stabbing feeling in your gut. Bucky’s best man had surely been a little rough around the edges before, but never this needlessly cruel. What did you do?

Your husband delivered an uncharacteristically gruff shove to the man’s shoulder and made sure he felt it.

“Don’t you start this shit again,” he said, “Lay off.”

Steve ignored him entirely and took the lead around the hotel’s perimeter. You glanced to the throngs of partygoers still scattered along the veranda and saw similar looks of disquiet and alarm all around.

Just when a dozen different questions of what was going on, where were they taking you, and why the fuck did everyone look so afraid bubbled to the tip of your tongue, a thunderous sound brought you to a standstill.

At the opposite end of the plaza, a cluster of tents, tables, and catering stations all splintered apart in a single, headlong explosion. A bright red column of fire shot up toward the sky, and following its ascent rose a wave of shrill and horrified screams alongside it. A barrage of gunfire rained over the crowd, and before you could even spare a look toward its source, Bucky yanked you flat on the ground. Your hands and knees were shredded across pavement, had less than a second to register the pain, and were shortly made to snake along concrete and glass toward the garden down below.

You crawled, then crouched, then bounded down the lawn following Bucky and Steve like a bat out of hell. Another explosion sounded nearby—this time much closer, sending a shower of flames sailing through the air and all over—and whole droves of people just dropped. Facedown in the grass and covered in glass. Bucky clamped your hand in his own with a force that could’ve snapped it in two, but you didn’t blink. All of your senses were kicked into overdrive and focalized, unflinching, on the sight of more carnage than you could comprehend.

“Here!” Steve called presently.

He caught sight of a jet black sedan at the edge of the lawn and held a hand up to Bucky. A set of keys were promptly pelted into his grasp, and the three of you closed in on the car, quick, without another word.

Bucky tore the back door open and practically flung you inside. He primed himself to climb in right after, when a set of footsteps and a shout held him locked in place.

“Hangar’s clear.”

Sam, by the sound of it.

He jumped in shotgun while Steve seized the wheel. Bucky hadn’t gotten the back door so much as halfway shut before the engine roared to life and the car lurched ahead. Not thinking, you grabbed hold of a seatbelt, but Bucky was quick to pull you in and jerk you down.

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting then, but it certainly wasn’t your husband’s weight crushing you from above as he pinned you to the floor of the car.

This wasn’t the seamless, smart exit that the heroes of the action-packed stories always had. Bucky didn’t hold you tight in his arms or cradle your head to his chest. He just draped the weight of his whole body over yours and begged you strenuously not to move or make a sound. By the looks of it, too, the car was tearing up the turf of the lawn and anything else that happened to cross its path; there was no rhyme or reason to Steve’s driving, it seemed, just frantic desperation and a will not to die.

Minutes, seconds, sights, and sounds—or what little of the world you could grasp from your cowered position—all bled together in a haze. Your pulse leapt and throbbed between your ears, and little more could be heard above that sound apart from the thrum of Bucky’s own heart, the thunder of gunfire, and the wail of sirens, coming low and faint and far too late to make much difference now.

You pressed your nose to the floor and got a dizzying whiff of nylon and bleach. Would’ve like to retch but gritted your teeth instead, lying in silence and wondering without humor if the splinters, the soot, or the blood would be hardest to wash out of your white satin dress.

The price of admission to board Bucky’s Boeing 787 came surprisingly cheap: just sit back and be ‘pregnant.’

You’d been flanked by medics as soon as you arrived at the hangar—a place tucked away just a few short miles from the hotel, where Bucky kept his aircraft for speedy escapes, apparently—and had been carried onto a jet. You didn’t squirm or protest, just hung limply in their arms and let them tend to you however they needed.

After all, you looked like fucking Carrie White on prom night: coated in blood and stiff as a board. Sitting with a thousand-yard stare and a frozen, muted expression as you tried, and failed, to process what had just happened.

You watched Bucky kneel down in front of you and hardly saw him at all. You sensed him stroke your hair but felt it from a place somewhere far outside your body. Bizarre was an understatement. All you could do was blink.

“It’s not— not her blood, is it?” your husband stammered, gesturing toward your dress.

“Some of it,” one nurse answered quietly.

Aw, hell. Bucky squatted on the floor and slotted himself between your knees, trying to get as close as possible so he could make you say something, even just see him. One of the attendants raised a warning look and placed a hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off in a second.

“She’s not looking at me,” Bucky’s lip visibly trembled as he drew you closer, “Honey, I’m here— I’m right h—”

“She’s in shock.” Another voice came flatly.

Sure, shock works. In truth, your mind was floating somewhere even higher than the 43,000 feet the plane had ascended, and your brain had gone as soft as a clump of cotton candy in the rain. You couldn’t speak, but you could think in bits and pieces. You blinked again.

“She looks like death warmed over.”

Thank you, Steve.

Off to the side in a plush, leather seat of his own, the man nursed a scotch on the rocks and frowned. Bucky didn’t have the strength to throw a punch or a pillow at his head and instead said only to shut the fuck up, man.

Your husband turned to the nurses again.

“She’s pregnant.”

I beg your finest pardon? You blinked a bit harder.

“No, she’s not, Buck,” Sam said from down the aisle.

“Well, she could be,” Bucky chided, “We’ve been going at it like rabbits since the—”

“Fuck’s sake,” Steve slapped a palm over his forehead. If you weren’t currently balls-deep in a state of mental disarray you probably would’ve done the same.

Bucky had made sure to tell all medical personnel aboard the plane that you were—or very well could be—carrying his child, so would you please take all precautionary measures possible? She’s my wife. You suspected if the doctors and nurses weren’t all on Bucky’s payroll they probably would’ve rolled their eyes and reminded him that all you needed were stitches, dressings, and extra fluids. And no, Mr. Barnes, your wife probably isn’t pregnant, even if you think your sperm is ‘built different’ than most.

“She’ll be fine either way,” the medic on your left said, stifling a chuckle. Wondering if the man had ever taken a sex ed class in his years of prudish, private education.

Bucky wasn’t convinced. Against all physicians’ wishes, he climbed up beside you in the seat and pulled you into his lap with both arms wrapped around your waist.

By turns, the world was coming back into focus for you. You met Bucky’s gaze for the first time, and the man looked overjoyed.

“See? See? She’s back.” Bucky squeezed your hip—and immediately released it when you winced.

“Mind the bandages, Mr. Barnes.”

Your caregivers pro tempore shot your husband a couple wry looks as they packed their supplies and started to leave, getting the sense that their boss wasn’t going to stop badgering them, or you, anytime soon. That worked just fine for Bucky, because then he would get to hold you any way that he liked, as long as you’d let him.

Steve, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as thrilled.

Sam watched the medics’ departure with a wary look.

“She probably needs to rest, Bucky,” the latter said, careful with his words.

Bucky’s eyes never strayed from yours.

“She’s okay, Sam. She’s good.” Perhaps speaking more to himself than anyone else. Steve shifted in his seat.

In your periphery, Mr. Wilson was approaching with a glass in his hand. You turned your head, and Bucky accepted the cup of water for you.

“Feelin’ alright?” Sam asked.

You tried to nod, but your husband was already cradling your head like a baby, urging you to take your first sip.

A spate of water splashed down the front of your dress. You shot Bucky a look as he hastily tried to dry it.

“She’s not a child, Barnes,” Steve muttered.

“Should probably keep that elevated,” Sam cut in, nodding toward your swollen ankle, “We’ll get some ice.”

Sam tilted his head again, this time to motion to Steve. His friend pretended not to see him, and then Bucky was back on his feet, keen as ever,

“I’ll go.”

He kissed the top of your head and assured you he’d be right back. He’d just started off toward the door, when Sam hesitated. He flitted a quick look between you and Steve and looked like he wanted to say something, but Bucky was already ushering him out of the room.

When you turned to Steve, you understood why.

The man had you pinned with a stare that could’ve killed you ten times over, fisting his drink in a white-knuckled grip.

You watched him right back. Tried hard not to blink.

“Something wrong?”

You weren’t sure how you’d even mustered the strength to speak. Steve just brought it out of you, you figured.

“You tell me.” Tone dripping with disdain.

You raked your gaze over the man for a second, finding him dressed head-to-toe in his three piece suit—muddied with blood here and there, but still no worse for wear than you’d seen him an hour or two ago. It was that frown you couldn’t shake.

What had you done to piss him off so much? Shit in his cornflakes? Step on his toe? Had he seen you with Joey and jumped to the worst possible conclusion? You sincerely couldn’t make sense of the man’s indignation, so you wanted to ask him directly; before you could, though, Steve was interjecting, at length,

“We should’ve left you to die with the rest of your family.”

Your jaw slackened a bit.

“What?”

“You, your mother, your two-timing shitstain of a father. Every one of you should’ve stayed there to rot.”

Never mind the fact that he’d just wished you dead to your face—what did he mean about your parents?

“But they’re coming with us. Bucky said,” you managed.

“He did?” Steve grinned humorlessly, “He lied, doll. Your folks are probably bound and gagged at the bottom of the ocean right now.”

That sent the first real wave of fear pulsing through you. You slowly rose to your feet but, feeling yourself restrained by the makeshift IV line stuck in your skin, you stopped. You plucked the needle out of your arm.

“What are you talking about?”

You drew closer to Steve, who only sat back and sipped his scotch with amusement.

“What? That wasn’t part of the plan?” he quirked a brow, “Didn’t think anyone would dare lay a finger on your precious, self-righteous fucking family—”

You hardly even noticed you’d swatted Steve’s drink out of his hand until the glass went shattering on the floor. You blinked and raised a shaky, bruised finger about an inch from his face.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” Your jaw was clenched so tight you had to speak through your teeth.

Steve was beaming.

The door to the room flew open, and Bucky and Sam strolled in with their ice packs and pillows. They stopped when they saw the glass on the floor and your figure looming over Steve.

“You picked a real spitfire, Buck,” the blond called out, his hands raised in surrender as he smiled up at you.

Bucky seemed more surprised that you were able to stand, much less take that menacing stance over his friend, and he quickly tried to guide you back to your seat. You wouldn’t budge.

“What the fuck are you talking about?! Where are my parents?” You tried to shake your husband off as Steve’s grin grew even bigger.

“They’re fine, honey. Sit down, please,” Bucky mumbled.

“No! He said they were dead!” you shot back, eyes never leaving the smug, smirking face that seemed to be enthralled by the spectacle in front of him.

“Why don’t you tell her, Buck? Girl deserves to know.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rogers,” Sam uttered quietly.

“Tell me what?”

“It’s nothing, your parents are fine,” Bucky seemed pensive now, gaze scanning the ceiling for a second as he tried to collect his thoughts. You shoved his hands off.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, James,” you said, diverting your attention to glare up at him, “What’s going on?”

“Either she’s a world-class actress or she really doesn’t have the first clue about this. Enlighten her.” Steve seemed a little more serene as he unscrewed a bottle of Talisker and reached for a second glass. You would’ve liked to knock back one or two—or ten—yourself.

You turned on your heels to face Bucky. At the moment, he seemed torn between imparting a death black stare on Steve and a placating, apologetic one to you. The tips of his ears were tinged pink.

“Baby—” He reached for you, but you pulled back.

“No.”

You wouldn’t ask him again. Your husband was wounded by the sight of your recoil—and perhaps by some painful truths he’d be compelled to share as well—and he wrung his hands. Started to chew the inside of his cheek.

Sam snagged the scotch and made a heavy pour.

“Why’d you marry him?” Steve said suddenly.

Bucky’s face dropped; you raised a brow in question. Before your husband could stop you, you answered,

“Because my dad was in debt.”

“For what?”

You paused.

“Real estate. Gambling. Fuck if I know.”

Steve nodded. Ignored Bucky’s sharp, reproachful gaze.

“And how much money did he owe?” he asked.

“Steve,” Sam warned.

“Four, five million—more than he could ever repay.”

This time, it was Steve to raise both brows as he mulled over your response. He almost looked surprised.

“You’re forced to marry a man just to settle a debt and you don’t even know the price that tight little body’s paying?” he scoffed.

His words hadn’t hung in the air for much longer than a second before Bucky decked him, shoving him square in the chest and sending him stumbling back a couple steps. A splash of whiskey was quick to join the bloodstains adorning Steve’s tux, and the pile of broken glass on the floor grew even bigger. The man hardly flinched when Bucky shoved his head to the end table.

“Say it again.” Your husband sounded dispassionate as ever. Like this was something he was used to doing.

“She should’ve known!” Steve snapped anyway.

You shared a brief look with Sam but found his expression inscrutable. He kicked a few shards of glass with the toe of his shoe.

“I wasn’t exactly in a place to negotiate,” you grumbled, “They were going to kill my father if we didn’t settle it, so I wasn’t all that interested in knowing how much money my A1 cunt was gonna cost Bucky. Personally.”

If he could go low, you would go lower. Fuck him.

You saw Steve grin through a freshly busted lip and straighten himself back into a seated position. He wiped the blood with the pad of his thumb while Bucky seemed to contemplate swinging again. The look in your eye cautioned him against it.

“Fair enough,” Steve conceded. He stopped to consider his words—ones that wouldn’t prompt Bucky to punch him directly in the throat—and looked to you, curious,

“Why would the mob kill him over a few million dollars?”

You shrugged.

“He’s a real estate broker. They probably knew he couldn’t fork over that kind of cash.”

Something akin to a stifled chuckle and a cough sounded from Sam, while Steve outright broke out laughing. Even Bucky’s expression softened a little as he rubbed his knuckles and paced closer to you.

“What?” you spat, “Did I say something funny?”

Sam shook his head slowly, starting, “I don’t think—”

“Your daddy’s a fucking gunrunner, sugar,” Steve wheezed, “Head of a multinational arms trafficking syndicate—motherfucker is not selling houses.”

Your insides churned with a mixture of disbelief and revulsion, but you couldn’t let them see that. When Bucky reached for your hand, you yanked it back again.

“And how the fuck would you know?” you said to Steve.

“We work with him. Used to work for him, at one point,” Sam answered.

“And the man is horseshit at business”—Steve paused to see if Bucky had shot him a warning look but found your husband far too concerned with capturing your attention—“He was $90 million in the hole when Bucky came to the rescue.”

“James?” You finally turned to him.

“And your daddy didn’t even owe the money to Bucky, he owed it to HYDRA,” Steve sneered.

“James,” you pressed again.

You couldn’t understand why your husband refused to speak—going as deadpan and radio silent as the night before. He stood there and watched you with a rigid, inflexible gaze.

“HYDRA as in— the Russian mob?” you asked him.

“No, the Girl Scouts,” Steve huffed, “Yes, the mob.”

“Schröder’s boys. Your dad’s been in business with them for years—owed them a lot of money,” Sam added.

“And your dad and Bucky’s dad have been friends even longer. So Bucky figured he’d do yours a favor and pay the debt himself.” Steve seemed eager to tell this story.

All the while, the hue of Bucky’s cheeks grew even deeper—like he didn’t want this coming to light. He sensed you wouldn’t stand down until you’d heard the whole ugly truth, though, so he held your gaze and watched you grow more repulsed by the second.

“Then why’d he need me? Just another bartering chip?” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, “A pawn?”

“A peace offering,” Bucky said quietly.

Steve and Sam finally clammed up long enough to let him speak, but your husband seemed taciturn as ever.

“Your father didn’t owe me anything. I would’ve paid his debt and left it at that, but he insisted I— that we marry. He wanted an alliance no subsequent financial incentive could disrupt. He would take the money I gave him, pay HYDRA, and bow out of any future dealings with them. Our marriage was supposed to guarantee that.”

Bucky spoke slow, like every word was a labored breath. Hardly the same could be said for his friends.

“That was until your dipshit weapons dealer daddy decided he’d have his cake and eat it too. Struck an even sweeter deal with HYDRA and played in our faces,” Steve said.

“At the direction of Mr. Schröder, your father tried to intercept a shipment bound for one of Bucky’s warehouses in Brooklyn,” Sam continued, “Only problem is he fucked up the execution and cost Schröder a dozen men and tens of millions of dollars in artillery and blow.”

“So Schröder paid him a visit today,” Bucky muttered.

Without realizing it, you found yourself sinking into the nearest seat and bringing a hand to lay flat on your stomach. You felt sick. More than woozy, truthfully. Your head was spinning and your stomach was twisting something terrible, as if you’d just ingested cyanide.

Fuck, did you need a drink.

You couldn’t look at Bucky or Steve or Sam any longer.

You reached for your clutch and pulled out Joey’s flask.

And, bloodlusting mobsters and outlaws be damned, the Russians knew how to make the hell out of some vodka. A single sniff of the stuff told you this was exactly what you would need to cope with your current situation.

“So you think I had something to do with the new HYDRA deal?” you asked, “You honestly th—FUCK!”

Bucky lunged for the flask in your hand before you could take a single pull. He snatched it away in the blink of an eye and shot you a look.

“Liquor? For our baby?” he barked.

You audibly groaned and were just about to tell him that his understanding of human reproduction was a crock of shit when you stopped. You saw his expression change.

“Where did you get this?” Bucky asked, suddenly pale.

“You, dumbass!”

“Me?”

Bucky was presently passing the flask around to his friends, who were eyeing a spot on the bottom of the container with shared looks of alarm.

“Your friend gave it to me earlier saying that you wanted me to have it,” you said.

All three men looked up at once.

“What friend?” Sam asked.

“Joey,” you answered, “Bucky’s friend from the army.”

If it were possible for your husband to get any paler his skin might’ve turned the color of cottage cheese. His eyes were wide with fear.

Then he was hurrying to your side. Taking your hand.

“What friend from the army? What’d he look like?”

You were still scanning Bucky’s face, trying to make sense of the apprehension etched into his features, when you managed,

“I-I dunno. Blond. Light brown eyes.”

“Tall fella?” Steve asked.

“Very.”

“Have a German accent?” Sam pressed.

“No, a real thick Southern accent,” you shook your head. It didn’t occur to you then that it could’ve been fake.

You were about to turn your attention back to Bucky, brow still knit in confusion, when a vague memory crossed your mind. You looked up at Sam and Steve.

“He had a—” You tapped your chin lightly, “—a little scar right here.”

You would’ve thought you’d just announced you had a bomb strapped to your ass the way the three men reacted. Each wore identical looks of disbelief and muted horror, exchanging looks between themselves as if they’d just discovered the Atlantic Ocean—and found the Loch Ness Monster lurking somewhere underneath.

Bucky looked the worst out of all of them. His face had drained of all expression and color as he stared at you.

“Joey?” he intoned feebly.

“Yes,” you answered—feeling ineffectual, even dense, for not catching on to what the rest of them had discovered.

Fortunately, Sam wouldn’t let you wallow in ignorance.

“Johann Schröder,” he supplied in a second, “The man you were talking to was Mr. Schröder, head of HYDRA.”

Steve held the flask in his grasp for you to see the bottom, where a skull with six tentacles was engraved. Then he tipped the canister into a glass he’d taken in his other hand and watched a frothy pink liquid spill out.

“Looks to be a serum of his,” Steve said, hollow as you’d ever heard him, “Kind of like…roofies.”

“You didn’t drink any of it, did you?” Sam asked.

“Nuh-uh. Bucky showed up right as he was trying to, uh— to pour it in my mouth.”

A beat of silence gripped the room.

Bucky looked like he might burst a blood vessel, or someone’s skull. Or both.

Still, he wouldn’t speak to you.

The inside of your head was throbbing.

You almost preferred the ruthless, irate glint in Steve’s eye when he’d suspected you of being a traitor the first time around; this cloyingly sympathetic gaze he was giving you now had to be the most maddening thing. He and Sam both looked on at you like you were a victim. Like you were something to be pitied, or coddled, or left to the capable hands of your husband—a motherfucker who couldn’t even speak so much as a syllable to you.

You felt a pressure build, then swell, then peak between your temples, and you wanted to wince but couldn’t stand the thought of looking weak in front of them.

Then your nose started to bleed.

That, at least, woke Bucky from his reverie as he fumbled around for a napkin and helped you to your feet. He looped an arm around your waist and led you off to the bathroom, his grip tightening on your frame with every step you took.

In two minutes flat, you were flooded with fifteen feet of toilet paper and tissues. Bucky cupped the back of your head in one of his broad, warm palms and kept it plastered there as he instructed you to hold it, honey, hang on, I can grab a few extra rolls right here and guided you toward a private area at the back of the plane.

You could scarcely see above the bunched up wads of Charmin Ultra Strong pressed close to your nose, but you trusted Bucky wouldn’t lead you astray. You felt the welcome touch of a bed underneath you, and then your husband was helping you settle in amongst the pillows and the blankets and the rose petals that had been scattered around before—not entirely appropriate now, but a nice touch nonetheless—and slipping your shoes off your feet. You felt his hand graze your ankle, and then he was saying he’d be right back with those ice packs.

You reached for his hand before he could leave.

“I don’t want it,” you said, your voice slightly muffled by the tissues, “Want you to talk to me, James.”

Bucky’s brow pinched inward. He kneeled down in front of you, where you were sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I am— I’m talking to you right now, honey, I—”

“You know what I mean.”

Bucky wiped his hand down his face and shook his head. Like he was trying to rid himself of a thought.

“I don’t want to talk about HYDRA. Or your father,” he said simply.

“Why not?”

“You’re not in the right place to hear it.”

You plucked the toilet paper away from your face long enough to give him a stern glare.

“We’re on a plane. Fleeing Greece. After you got curb-stomped in our honeymoon suite, our post-wedding brunch was bombed by the Russian mob, I was almost drugged by their leader, and my parents are probably as good as dead, if not being held for ransom, as we speak. Please tell me a better place to have this conversation.”

Bucky was left stumped for a second. Then he slowly rose back to his feet.

“Okay.”

Infuriating.

“Okay?” you snapped, “We could’ve died five times today and all you can say is okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

Fuck this guy. You wiped your nose and stood up too.

Bucky tried to nudge you back onto the bed, wary of the ever-growing number of bumps, bruises, and nosebleeds afflicting your body. He tensed when you nudged him right back.

“I need to see my family,” You stood firm, “As soon as we land wherever it is we’re going, I’m on the first flight back to New York—or wherever they are.”

You dabbed at your nose once more and looked up at him.

“No, you’re not,” Bucky returned.

“What? You’re gonna stop me?”

“Yes, I will.”

The worst part was he wasn’t even smug about it. Just calm and self-assured. You flung your tissues to the side and threw your hands up in exasperation, feeling the need to step away from him and start pacing the room. The man’s reticence was grating on your nerves.

“Why bother, Buck?” you snorted, “It’s not like I’m even your wife, really. I’m just a peace offering that you get to bend over and fuck every now and then, right?”

You turned to make your first circuit around the foot of the bed but were shortly met with the expanse of Bucky’s chest. You looked up to find him frowning.

“Don’t say that again,” he glowered down at you.

Unlike most times before, you didn’t flinch. When he reached for your wrists, you didn’t let him win.

“I’m not your wife,” you repeated, “We may be playing the most fucked up game of mob charades, but this is not a real marriage.”

You ignored Bucky’s evident desire to grab hold of something of yours and side-stepped easily, expanding the gap between you two as much as you could. It was almost amusing to see him not in control for once, and floundering to recover what semblance of it he could.

“You are my wife,” he insisted, frown growing deeper as you crept along the edge of the room, “Everything I do now is for you—it’s not a goddamn game to me.”

“You used me for some Machiavellian marriage ploy! That is the definition of a game, James!”

“I don’t even know what the fuck that means,” Bucky said, “But I love you.”

“You met me yesterday, motherfucker!”

You could feel another bloody nose rising in your bones. You turned around, swiped your lip with the back of your hand and were surprised to see nothing there. You waited for the bleeding to start back up again. When you turned, Bucky had closed the distance between you and was holding something in his hand.

Before you could protest, he was smoothing the thing over your face—apparently he’d grabbed a washcloth and dampened it—and laced his fingers through the hair at the back of your head. He held you firmly as he blotted the blood.

“Is it so hard to believe that I love you?” he asked quietly.

He was trying hard to placate you, but his actions were having just the opposite effect. You let him wipe the blood from your face but watched him begrudgingly.

“You want someone to control, Bucky,” you said, “Love is not a power play that you get to manipulate at will.”

Bucky blinked, trying to conjure up a response as he daubed the skin with a little more force. You weren’t finished.

“You look at me and see a victim. Someone you need to watch over— who can’t take care of themse—”

“That’s not true.”

“Really? That’s not what a ‘good little wife’ is to you?” you retorted.

At last, Bucky tossed the hand towel to the side and ran a hand through his hair. He stepped toward the dresser, shrugging off his suit jacket.

“That’s a— a bit I do when I’m horny. I don’t actually want you subservient to me,” he muttered as he looked around for a hanger. Finally, he just draped the coat over the back of a chair and sighed.

“So holding me hostage from my family is a bit, too?” you quizzed.

“To keep you safe from the people who tried to kill them. I’m sorry I don’t want to see you butchered because of me,” Bucky returned with just as much biting sarcasm.

“That’s rich coming from you.” You despised the indignation in your tone but couldn’t help it. These thoughts had been brewing inside your skull for hours. You watched Bucky struggle to undo his bow tie—just like the night before—and, again, your brain barely registered the action before you were reaching for the garment and tugging at the fabric to loosen it yourself.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked, brow furrowed.

“Last night,” you yanked harder than you meant to. The knot just got tighter, “And today. Tonight. You’re as still as the fucking grave and won’t say a word when something bad is happening. You just let it happen.”

You tried to pry your fingers through the tie but found it stiff as ever. You groaned inwardly.

“No, I don’t,” Bucky objected.

“You’re doing it right now! You wouldn’t tell me about HYDRA, or my father, or the guy who could’ve— hurt me. You didn’t say a word of that to me, and you expect me to believe we’re in this together? That you’re trying to keep me safe? You couldn’t even—” you paused to pull at that stupid tie your husband had tangled about four times over, finally feeling it give way a little—“couldn’t even pretend to give a fuck when those men broke in last night and almost killed us!”

Just as you freed the silk from its knot, Bucky seized your wrist. Shoved your hand off of his collar.

“I had to do that,” he snapped.

He threw his tie to the floor and started to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves. The sight of his broad, veiny forearms were only visible to you for a second before he headed toward the closet, peeling off bits and pieces of his ensemble as he walked.

“You didn’t do anything, Bucky! You just sat there and got the shit beat out of you for no fucking reason! You didn’t even try to fight back.”

Bucky had just muscled his way out of the confines of his dress shirt, leaving him in a tight, plain white tee. He turned to you with what seemed like the most pointed look of disdain.

“You think I wanted to do that?!” he barked. Suddenly facing you head-on, skin flushed a shade just shy of crimson.

“You were too chickenshit. Didn’t wanna get your hands dirty, so you let Sam do it for you,” you seethed.

Your husband looked as though he wanted to put his fist through a wall and pummel it several times over. Seemed like he did, anyway. In truth, he didn’t move—just watched you with the most cruel, unflinching gaze as he clenched his jaw.

“I’m chickenshit?” he repeated.

“Yeah. Coward,” you spat.

“Too much of a coward to keep you safe?”

“Precisely.”

At long last, you saw Bucky smile. It was the tightest, most humorless grin that had ever crossed his lips, but it was a smile nonetheless. He raised a hand over your head and bracketed his arm against the wall so he was leaning over you. Not meant to intimidate per se, but the sight of that smirk was unnerving, to say the least.

“Did you hear what language they spoke?” he asked, voice unbearably low as he drew his face closer to yours.

“It sounded like—”

“Russian, that’s right,” Bucky cut in, “Do you know what they said to me when they pulled us to the floor?”

You swallowed and said nothing. Bucky’s breaths were fanning hot across your cheeks, sending waves of a strange sensation all throughout your body—you weren’t sure if you were meant to be aroused or scared shitless.

“They told me, ‘If you move, we’ll kill her,’” Bucky deadpanned as he began to trace the wallpaper beside your head with a single, bloodied finger, “‘If you fight, we’ll dismember her and set fire to every piece of her body in front of you.’ Or something to that effect.”

The repetition of their words seared your veins like a legion of flames. You could picture them saying it. Grabbing hold of Bucky’s head by the roots of his hair and beating him over and over and over, threatening your life if he made a single move to stop it.

“Bucky—” you started.

“I know they meant it, too. HYDRA operatives make good on their promises if they really set out to harm someone.”

Your husband’s grin had transformed into something more of a crooked, downcast grimace, just baring his teeth as he tried not to lose his composure. Guilt flooded his face.

“I know I should’ve told you then. And after. I should’ve told you about your father as soon as Steve’s informant told us. I just—” Bucky stopped to swallow; he couldn’t meet your gaze—“I didn’t want that hanging over your head. Not after everything that happened last night.”

It was like a blade had just twisted in your stomach. Your throat ached. You wanted to touch him but were almost too scared to ask. He looked so fragile.

“I am a coward. And controlling. Probably the most chickenshit, overbearing son of a bitch you could’ve been unfortunate enough to marry.” For a moment, Bucky’s gaze flickered to yours, and you saw a blooming red hue around the blues of his irises, “But that’s not how I’m supposed to love you—or going to love you.”

You weren’t sure how to reply; you tried raising a hand to his cheek, just to touch the skin, but decided against it.

“I’ve been a shit husband, fake or not. I’m sorry.”

Fake husband maybe, but the look on his face was intractably authentic. Palpable. He blinked as though trying to clear the warm and heady feelings from his expression—suddenly not wanting you to see the shades of his emotions painted there—and focused instead on a few stray strands of hair that had blown over your face. He got very invested in those, all of a sudden.

While your husband stroked the corners of your face and fixed his gaze away from yours, you felt the smallest prick of warmth spark within you. Bucky looked soft and serene and sincere in his apology, defenseless now as he grazed his knuckles over your cheek and said it again,

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”

He paired his apology with a rapid succession of little kisses pressed to your forehead, moving his hand to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.

You wanted to touch him, too. You almost felt as though you didn’t know how.

So you stood there and accepted his affections and tried to nod your head when he asked if you were alright, were you hurting any, baby? You leaned into the gentle pressure of his fingertips taking stock of every cut and bruise you’d sustained over the course of that day, watched Bucky’s brow furrow with each new discovery, and tried not to let his touch stray far down your body.

You wanted to be the one with your hands on him—now more than ever.

When Bucky’s hand trailed over your chin, you tilted your head just slightly to kiss it. Your husband didn’t think much of it, just smiling down as tender as he always did, when your lips really grazed over the skin. You pressed a kiss to his finger and wordlessly urged him to move it further. Now it was Bucky’s turn to be at a loss for what to do as you took the tip of his thumb between your lips and suckled it, gently.

“Honey,” he let out a sigh, half-encouragement and half-warning—what were you trying to do?

You glided your mouth down his finger so half of his thumb was enveloped inside. You sucked it again.

“You can’t…” Bucky maintained feebly, eyes briefly scouring all the cuts and bruises across your skin. He didn’t want to see you strain yourself any further.

But whatever pain this might cause was ancillary to you; you curled your tongue around the digit and moaned lightly.

The taste of one finger alone was enough to send you into a frenzy. That and the fact that he had been so open and honest and attentive to your needs made every bone in your body want to jump his. Something about a man taking accountability for his actions and communicating them in a way that didn’t intimidate or belittle you was refreshing. Sexy, almost. Admittedly, the bar for mob boss husbands was hovering somewhere deep in hell, but you admired Bucky’s efforts all the same.

You popped his thumb out of your mouth and smiled.

“You worry too much, Mr. Barnes.”

The echo of his words from earlier—the ones he’d said as he was railing you against a mirror—made Bucky’s cock twitch. His gaze trailed down to the sheen of saliva on your lip, and he almost folded on the spot. He swallowed.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, bunny,” he murmured as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and peered up at him.

“Hurt me how?”

You really hadn’t meant to sound like such a tease when you’d said it, but it was hard not to come across that way when you were watching him like that.

And sinking to your knees, with your eyes glued on his.

Bucky sucked in a breath as you kneeled between his feet and nudged the seam of his pants with your nose. He felt so big against your face, you almost couldn’t fathom how he’d fit inside of you the night before. You were amazed how quickly he’d gotten hard—as if the two of you weren’t just having a heart-to-heart a second ago—and you felt your own arousal pool in your panties.

“You know I don’t mind if it hurts. Love the way you stretch me out anyhow,” you continued, and tried not to smirk as you imagined a dozen filthy images from last night flash before Bucky’s mind.

You heard him stifle a groan when you ghosted your lips over the bulge in his pants and felt him swell even more. Your mouth watered at the sound, the sensation, the raw anticipation of what was to come and knowing that you got to dictate what happened. You undid the button and the zip of his pants and damn near drooled at the sight.

Even confined to his boxers, Bucky looked fucking huge.

Suddenly, you began to understand how needy he had been the night before when he’d first wedged his face between your legs and gotten a taste of you. You hadn’t so much as sampled an inch of his cock, and you were already aching to swallow him whole.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Bucky grunted as he planted a hand on the wall in front of him. You kissed the outline of his clothed erection and earned a full-throated groan.

Well, that makes two of us, you wanted to say but were too busy palming him through his boxers to utter a word. Soaking in the sight of him with every sweet, soft groan he made and wanting to be the reason for even more.

“Can I take you in my mouth, daddy?” you asked softly.

Bucky flattened his palm against the wall and nodded. Beyond words as you worked him out of his boxers.

For one, fleeting moment, you almost wanted to walk back your big talk when his cock sprung out of the fabric. You really hadn’t seen his length at all last night—too busy having it stuffed inside your cunt to get a good look—but holy shit was it an intimidating sight. You weren’t sure if it was just the nerves of this being your first time giving head or if Bucky truly was that massive, but you felt your courage start to crumble before your eyes.

My husband is hung like a fucking horse and I’ve never fit anything bigger than a couple fingers in my mouth. This should go well.

Bucky was evidently so turned on that he didn’t notice the apprehension in your expression. After all, you were moving your lips down his cock and seizing the base of him with what looked like excitement.

Should I…lick it first?

It seemed you would have to learn all of this on the job. You stuck your tongue out and ran it up the length of his shaft.

When Bucky groaned in response, you sensed that that was okay. You pressed a few kisses on the underside of his member and scrambled to think of what else to do.

“Fuck, baby,” your husband let out the most guttural sound as you squeezed his length in your hand. Then, to your surprise, he seized a fistful of your hair between his fingers and rutted his hips, pushing the head of himself against your lips, “Take me in your mouth.”

You heard the Kill Bill sirens blare between your ears but said nothing. You could do this—you’d be fine.

Your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and Bucky gripped your hair even tighter. Let out a deep, satisfied moan like this was exactly what he needed. You liked that noise and wanted to take him even further.

What you didn’t expect was four more inches shoved inside your mouth before you could stop to take a breath.

The whole girth of his cock made a sharp intrusion, causing your cheeks to stretch and hollow out around him. The head of his member barely grazed the back of your throat, and still, you gagged. And not only gagged but choked, as though someone had just tried to scrub your tonsils with a fine-bristle toothbrush. Unfortunately for you, Bucky’s dick did not taste like spearmint.

He pulled his cock out as quickly as he’d pushed it in.

“Sorry. Shit, sorry.” Bucky blinked twice to get out of that blissed-out headspace and shot you a sheepish look.

The man had rarely been obliged to slow down or take five when his old, ever-changing flavors of the night sucked him off before—most blew him without trouble. But you, kneeling there batting your lashes through a few more tears than expected, seemed uncertain. Even half of his shaft made for a tight fit in your mouth, Bucky thought with some guilty feelings of arousal. He watched you wipe your chin with the back of your hand and frown.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, baby,” Bucky said, stroking the top of your head.

Suddenly, the frown was turned in his direction.

You raised a brow.

“Why? That all you got, Barnes?”

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle—and grunt, a little—when you grabbed the base of his cock and brought it down to your swollen pout. His hand instinctively moved back to the wall.

“Honey, are you s—”

He stopped the second you rubbed him up and down and pressed a kiss on the most sensitive skin.

“My mouth isn’t made of paper mâché. You can fuck it a little harder than that,” you said, running your touch down his length while holding his gaze. You looked eager.

Before Bucky could respond, you took the tip of his cock between your lips. Flattened your tongue and glided your mouth down as far as it could go before your cheeks started to hurt—then bobbed your head even further. One of your husband’s hands made a fist in your hair while the other scraped the wall, and you could tell it was taking some serious effort not to rut his hips out of habit.

Be gentle, be gentle, your dick barely fits in her mouth—

“—fucking hell you feel good,” he groaned.

Bucky took one look and could have cum on the spot.

It was one thing to feel you licking and sucking and stretching to accommodate his length, and another thing entirely to see you knelt in front of him with the world’s sweetest gaze, mouth stuffed full of his cock and eyes all but rolling back at the overwhelming sensation. You’d nearly made it all the way to the short tufts of hair on his lower abdomen—and looked so pretty doing it.

Bucky fucking loved it. And you. And fucking you, your face, any place he could fit himself, quite frankly. He stared down at you struggling to take his cock and felt a strange new wave of desire pulsing through his body.

“You like that, doll? Like when daddy fucks that slutty little mouth of yours?”

“Barely fits but you take it so well, bunny.”

“My good little wife and her pretty fucking mouth—likes sucking daddy’s cock however deep he needs it, huh?”

You liked it more than the air in your lungs, to be honest. Only problem was you couldn’t quite speak your mind with your mouth full of Bucky, so you had only to nod. Your husband groaned when you hummed along his length and bobbed your head to answer ‘yes.’ He saw you try not to gag and decided to thrust a little deeper.

He watched his cock drag back and forth along your tongue and took hold of your hair like a vice, fucking your face until your chin and cheeks were drenched with spit. Every now and then he’d pull his cock out just long enough to ask how bad you wanted him in your mouth, how desperate you were to taste him again, and every time you’d answer a little more sweetly and incoherently than before, eyes glazed with desire and mouth open for more.

You were amazed you’d lasted as long as you had—how quickly you’d devolved into this pliable, doe-eyed cocksleeve for Bucky and how keenly you desired to please him even more. It felt pornographic and lewd and somehow still loving as he plowed in and out of your mouth and sang your praises like no man had before.

Above you, Bucky was aching for release but adamant that he wouldn’t cum down your throat—not yet, at least.

His mind was alight with those pesky, primal thoughts again, and every time he watched you swallow him whole, he just wanted to fuck his cum someplace else.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he was smitten or simply dominated by carnal desire; all he knew was that he wanted to give you his babies.

Lots and lots of babies.

A hundred or more, if he had it his way.

Again, you barely had a chance to take a fresh breath before Bucky threw you onto the bed. You’d just tried to steady yourself in a semi-seated position when the man shoved you back in the pillows and slotted himself between your legs, pupils blown wide with hunger.

In a blink, you were flipped onto your stomach with your ass yanked high in the air. Back made to arch, toes about to curl, you closed your eyes and sank your teeth into the sheets, moments away from begging your husband to fuck you right then and there, but Bucky had other plans. He seized the hair at the crown of your head and jerked your head to face forward.

The first thing to greet you was your own reflection—in a floor-to-ceiling mirror at the foot of the bed—followed by Bucky’s broad form steadying behind you. You watched him wet his lips, furrow his brow, and use one careful hand to guide the head of his cock to your entrance. Completely piqued with arousal as you were, weeping beads of desire from that place between your legs, you almost wanted to buck your hips and fuck him yourself.

You refrained.

Bucky pressed the tip of himself to your clit and met your gaze in the mirror when you let out a whimper.

“You didn’t mean it, did you?” he asked, tone suddenly dropped to that of a stoic.

“Mean what?”

It took an unbelievable amount of willpower to fight the moan in your throat when Bucky dragged his cock down the seam of your cunt and rubbed every hot, throbbing inch of himself in the slickness between your folds. You were quick to take the sheets in your hands and squeeze as tight as you could—you wouldn’t let him win that easy.

“When you said you weren’t my wife. Did you mean it?” Bucky was coating himself now, rolling his hips back and forth while you seized the white linens for dear life.

“No. I didn’t,” you said through your teeth. Your eyelids fluttered with the feel of him circling your sensitive hole.

“Do you want to be my wife?” Bucky had to have known it was an asinine question, but he asked it all the same.

“Yes.”

“You do?”

“I do. I do. Now will you just fuck me already?”

In response, and as if to make a mockery of your request, Bucky just pressed the head of his cock inside you and watched you close in the mirror—daring your hips to move back another inch.

“What else do you want to be, doll?”

To say your mind was an empty slate bare of anything but the desire to be fucked was an understatement. You fumbled to find words.

“Your wife, your girl— that’s it, Bucky.”

Your husband nudged his cock a little deeper.

“A good girl?” he hummed.

“Yes, daddy,” you cried and clenched around him.

Bucky stayed where he was and stretched your wet, aching hole with just his tip, making the world’s most shallow thrusts as he flattened his hand on your back and made sure it stayed arched while he teased you.

At this point, you didn’t care what the man saw or heard. You fought with your hips and whined into the sheets.

“Bucky!”

“Wanna be my obedient little cockslut?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“My bunny?”

“Yes, James.” Your cheeks were enflamed, almost hot to the touch.

Bucky suddenly drove himself inside you all the way to the hilt. He squeezed your hip in one hand and with the other slipped a finger between your folds to rub vicious, tight circles against your clit as you bucked and moaned beneath his touch.

“How about a momma?” he pressed, almost too low to be heard, “Wanna be that, too?”

His hips fell into a quick and easy rhythm against your ass, stretching you wide and filling you up almost seamlessly. Your mind was too consumed with pleasure and him to think much else, but barely, you managed,

“W-what?”

Bucky delivered a thrust that knocked the breath from your chest, leaning down to rub your clit even harder.

“Do you want to be a mommy? Have me fill you up and put my baby inside you?”

Oh, fuck. Fucking—what the fuck? Your toes curled as a new jolt of pleasure shot through you, and your gaze locked with Bucky’s in the mirror. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“No— James, we’re not, shit—” you stopped to take a breath as he fucked you rough from behind, smirking the whole time, “We’re not ready for that.”

“Look pretty…ready to me,” Bucky stifled a groan when you squeezed around him and made obscene little noises sliding up and down his cock. He watched the way your pretty, wet pussy stretched and swallowed him down to the base and imagined it dripping with his cum. He snapped his hips against your ass even faster.

It wasn’t clear just who was more overcome with desire—both of you blissed out and fuckdrunk as you’d ever been—and then Bucky flipped you onto your back.

He wanted to see your face as he fucked you slow this time, lips hovering mere inches from your own as he dragged his cock gently in and out of you.

“James,” you breathed, digging your heels in his back with a wordless plea to speed up, baby, please.

In truth, you just knew what would happen if Bucky had the advantage of slow and soft sex with a mouth lowered close to your ear. How he’d shower you with kisses and bring you right to the edge, rolling his hips against your body with strings of sweet praises flowing fast off his tongue.

“Just one, honey,” he mumbled, lips grazing the edge of your jaw, “One baby and I promise we’ll be done.”

Yeah fucking right, you wanted to return with a roll of your eyes but felt your insides churn as he grazed that spot.

“Can you do that for me, doll?” he eased his dick back and forth and snaked a hand between your bodies until his palm was laying flat on your stomach, “Fit my baby in there?”

You couldn’t deny the feelings of pleasure were heightened to no end when he rubbed the heel of his palm into your tummy and continued to rut into you. That feeling of fullness, the delicate nudge against your most sensitive place, paired with the warmth of Bucky’s hand on your lower abdomen, was as close to euphoric as you’d ever felt before orgasm, and it wasn’t hard to tell from the way your body responded. Bucky worked his touch even deeper and watched you writhe beneath him.

“My sweet girl,” he cooed, rubbing that spot, “You’d look so pretty all swole up down here, don’t you think?”

Fucking hell, this guy was good. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to shake your head.

“Someone…tried to kill us…twice in the last twenty four hours,” you managed between labored breaths. Trying not to whimper when the head of Bucky’s cock kissed your cervix and you felt him bottom out inside you.

Balls deep and enamored with the expression on your face, Bucky laid a kiss on your forehead and smiled.

“I’ll take Schröder’s life with my own two hands if it means keeping you—” he paused to press his palm even firmer on your stomach, “—and our child safe, honey.”

You wanted to believe him. You sincerely hoped your husband could make good on his promise—even if it meant delivering an agonizing, bloody death to a man you barely knew—but you sensed deep down that there were no guarantees in the world Bucky Barnes inhabited. From what little you’d seen in the last day and a half, it had become clear as ever that there were no certainties; no promise of tomorrow, much less a probability that things would pan out exactly as you planned. Add to that a living, breathing child between you two, and the prospects for a safe, secure, and peaceful future were small. Infinitesimally so, in the grand scheme of things.

“No, Bucky,” you finally opened your eyes to find his tender gaze watching over you. Still moving his hips gently, still blanketing your body with his own, “That’s entirely just— just irresponsible. You know it would be.”

“Making a child together?” Bucky seemed wounded saying the words.

And, in spite of the serious turn your conversation had taken, you could see and feel with the growing pace of your breaths that both of you were close. You wanted more than anything to repair that muted, injured look in his eyes, but then Bucky was blinking it away, to the best of his abilities, and lowering his head back down to yours to impart a soft barrage of kisses along your skin. He resumed before you could even think to speak again.

“Okay. No, you’re right. It’s your choice, my love,” he murmured against your cheek, getting back into the more deliberate rhythm of his thrusts before. He stayed there holding his body and his lips as close to yours as possible, and when you felt tempted to say something again, you found the sound drowned by a cresting wave of pleasure.

Your legs tightened around Bucky’s sides, and your head fell back on the bed. You felt Bucky’s drop right beside you, turned just slightly to graze his lips against your ear.

“Gonna cum for me, doll?”

You nodded.

“So close, Bucky,” you breathed, a tremor passing over your thighs as they squeezed him even tighter.

You felt your husband’s hand move from your belly to a place just below it—taking care to bring the pad of his thumb to that wet, aching bundle of nerves—and started drawing circles. Your back arched from the bed, into him, and the coil of pleasure in your lower half swelled.

“Good girl,” Bucky growled, “Good fuckin’ girl, taking me so well.”

The praises and gentle circuits of his thumb continued as he fucked you harder into the bed and panted against your skin. Increasing the speed of his thrusts before catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss, body sinking into yours.

“Gonna make a mess of this cock, huh? Show daddy just how much you love it?”

You whined in response, feeling your muscles start to ache from how hard your legs were wrapped around him. Bucky invaded your mouth with his tongue, kissing and licking and craving your taste as he fucked you stupid—and begged for your release.

“Cum for daddy, honey, I know you got it. Let daddy feel it, baby, please.”

A couple more snaps of his hips and you gave him just that: a hot, cascading ripple of bliss spreading all throughout your body, sending your mind in spirals and every muscle under your command a tense, throbbing mess. You swallowed a scream and took a bite of Bucky’s shoulder instead, causing the man above you to grin and fuck you harder.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbled with an audible hint of pride.

The smile only started to waver when his own release was coming close. Suddenly, his grip was moving to your hip and pinning you down to the bed, brows pinching in and breaths starting to hitch.

“Honey— honey,” he said, voice strained, “Baby, you— you gotta let go of your— ah, fuck.”

Still riding out the highs of your orgasm, you hardly even noticed how tight you were holding him with your legs, and shortly, this raised issues for Bucky, who was trying like hell to heed your wishes and not cum inside you.

“Baby, let go, I gotta—”

He probably could’ve fought to shake you off a little harder, been a bit more adamant about his efforts, but you looked so comfortable and lithe and sweet beneath his frame, so blissed out and happy to be taking his strokes, Bucky almost had to pinch himself to rouse his lust-addled brain to action and remind himself that this was how babies are made, man, get the fuck off of her.

Bucky let out a long, strangled groan as the ropes of cum left his body before he could think, or move, fast enough.

He hastily pushed your legs away and pulled out, but not before painting your walls with a good portion of his load. His hand fell to his cock and started jerking the rest of it out over your stomach, body washing with pleasure.

Vaguely, thoughts of babies and ballgames and neat white picket fences crossed his mind, but those views were fleeting; he remembered what you’d told him and forced himself back to earth, dropping a quick, apologetic kiss to the side of your face.

“I’m sorry. Should’ve pulled out quicker,” Bucky panted against your neck.

You stroked his bicep and shook your head.

“You’re fine. I kinda had you down like a boa constrictor for a second,” you breathed and shared a weary laugh.

Before you knew it, Bucky was sliding off the bed and shuffling toward the bathroom in search of a towel. You prodded the warm, gooey mess on your belly with your finger and raised an eyebrow. Curious, and only slightly worried.

Bucky had been hitting it raw for a day now—surely one more half-load of his wouldn’t get you pregnant, right?

Fortunately, you didn’t have much longer to ponder that thought because a trill of a ringtone sounded from the nightstand.

A phone call? At 45,000 feet?

“Just the intercom,” Bucky called out, “Probably Steve about to start complaining that we fuck too loud.”

Huh. You stared at the trimline-looking telephone on the table and let it ring. Then the sound stopped.

“You think they could hear us?” you asked.

Bucky had just wet a washcloth under the sink and was rifling through the cabinets for something else.

“Hope so,” he said with a shrug, “You know I’d never miss a chance to let ‘em know I took a trip to poundtown—”

“Please never say that again,” you groaned, closing your eyes in sudden fear of what Steve and Sam may or may not have just been made privy to outside of the room.

You were just about to speak up again—perhaps to tell your husband there would be an indefinite travel ban to poundtown if he didn’t hurry the fuck up with that towel—when the intercom’s jarring peal started up once more.

Fuck this. Ignoring the sticky-sweet puddle of love still painted on your stomach, you sat up and crawled over to the phone and ripped it off the hook.

“Barnes residence,” you announced without ceremony. Then, imagining how smug Steve was probably looking on the other end of that line, you decided to be crass and add, “Bucky Barnes is very busy laying pipe on his wife right now, but if you could leave your name and number, he’ll be sure to call you back as soon as possible!”

You heard the caller burst out laughing, and you smiled to yourself. Pleased to have made an otherwise moody and brooding Steve Rogers crack at one of your jokes, you were just about to hang up when the caller cut in.

Bucky was returning with your towel in hand, lips curled in the faintest of smirks at hearing your crude declaration, when he stopped at the foot of the bed.

He saw the smile fall from your face, and his did, too.

From the other end of the line, a soft and familiar Southern drawl crawled out of the phone’s receiver.

“Sure thing, doll. Tell him it’s Joey Schröder calling.”

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[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.