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navybrat817 · 4 months ago

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Where Worlds Collide - Intro

Pairing: Silver Fox!Sugar Daddy!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Female Reader

Summary: Your boss forces you to be eye candy for an alpha at a gala, but things take a turn for the better when you meet another alpha. Does it matter that you don't belong in his world?

Word Count: Over 9.2k

Warnings: Smut, v. fingering, possessive behavior, dirty talk, instant connection, A/B/O dynamics, talk of bonding, misogyny, unspecified age gap, insecurities, world building, choking (not our reader… yet), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I'm pretty proud of the intro to this world, lovelies! @whisperlullaby, @targaryenvampireslayer, @tavners, here it is! Ant thanks to @queenoftheworldisdead as well. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Soft music drifted from the ballroom as you stepped into the lavish venue. You’d never been to a gala before. Your family wasn’t wealthy enough to receive an invitation, nor did your last name carry any influence. The only reason you were there tonight was because of the alpha on your arm, all thanks to your boss’s insistence that you accompany him.

It was an evening of style, grace, and luxury, and you didn’t belong.

You held your breath as you walked deeper into the ballroom, the glittering chandeliers casting a refined glow over everything. A mix of alphas, betas, and omegas socialized and gossiped, their glamorous evening wear glittering under the lights. You had designed a few of the dresses and suits, but none of the people wearing them would recognize you. The alpha you worked for always took the credit. Complaining about it wouldn’t help. After all, you’d only sound like an ungrateful omega and hundreds of other omegas would beg to take your place.

You couldn’t wait for the day you quit.

Chet’s grip on your arm brought you back to the present. “Keep quiet and smile,” he ordered, a haughty expression on his face as he led you through the place. You didn't want to judge all men named Chet, but you had pegged him as a douchebag the second he went in for his fitting and he was proving you right. You couldn't even enjoy that he was objectively handsome since his personality made him less attractive.

“I am smiling,” you said. Wrinkling your nose at the overwhelming mix of scents and expensive colognes and perfumes, you did your best to make your smile look natural. The servers looked like they were doing the same as they served everyone. It was strange how a room so enormous could make someone feel so small.

“Then keep smiling,” Chet ordered through his grin. “What you do or don’t do is a reflection of me.”

“I know,” you muttered. Because it was all about him and you were just his omega arm candy. You really should’ve demanded overtime pay from your boss, but that conversation wouldn’t have ended well.

“As it stands, perhaps I made the right choice by bringing you,” he said, nodding to a few older gentlemen. “I can smell their envy.”

You did notice a few more men looking your way. A few women as well, not hiding that they were whispering about you. Trying to hide your vulnerability, you held yourself the way you thought a goddess would. You also held yourself with pride since the dress you wore was your own design. A sleeveless black dress with a middle slit, it was bold and alluring. The glitter throughout the fabric made you shine like stars in the night sky. The finishing touch was the matching collar, a tasteful way to protect you from any alpha who even thought about marking you.

Reaching up instinctively to run a hand over your collar, you felt your heart ache. Your inner omega wanted a mark, but the thought of being tied to someone was somewhat terrifying. You respected omegas who wanted to go the traditional route by staying home and being submissive, but you didn’t want to be submissive outside of the bedroom. You wanted a partner who would view you as an equal.

Your false confidence didn’t last long when Chet’s grip on you tightened, your body immediately going stiff. You’d have to take a long shower and dry clean your dress just to get rid of his scent. “Loosen up,” he ordered.

“Maybe I’d loosen up if you weren’t digging your fingers in,” you whispered.

“You’re my date. It’s my right to touch you,” he sneered. He had no right. It didn't matter if he was an alpha and he was rich. The urge to slap him across his face was so strong your palm itched. “So, get the stick out of your ass.”

A shiver rolled down your spine when you heard a low growl come from another alpha. Glancing around, you didn’t see anyone looking directly at you. It probably had nothing to do with you because why would anyone care if an alpha was bossing you around?

Chet’s hold on you loosened nonetheless. “And just so we’re clear, you have no intention of sleeping with me?” he asked as an omega in a revealing dress sauntered by. Your date didn’t bother to hide how he was undressing her with his eyes.

“That’s right,” you said. You made it clear to your boss that sex wasn’t an option, and he was oddly on your side. Maybe he thought Chet could sway you if he tried hard enough. If he even thought of using some sort of alpha command on you, nothing would stop you from lashing out and making him sorry.

“Then you’ll have no problem finding your own ride home should I choose to leave with someone else,” he said.

“So, I can’t make you look bad, but you can leave with another omega?” you asked.

“You got it. You’re smarter than you look.” He tapped your nose with a condescending grin. “And here I thought you were just a pretty face.”

The prick was pushing his luck. “Listen you-”

“Chet, my boy! Good to see you!” A man interrupted, uncaring that you were speaking.

“Shane,” Chet smiled. “Always a pleasure.”

The bulky alpha shamelessly looked you over, his scent almost making you choke on your next breath. “And who might this be?”

“Pretty, isn't she?” Chet cut in before you could answer, puffing his chest out. “Doesn't say much, but I’m not exactly interested in her conversational skills, am I?”

You bit your tongue when they chuckled. Be seen and not heard. It was insulting.

“Come join me, but leave the omega,” Shane said unapologetically, taking another look at your chest. What would happen if you threw a drink in his face? “As entertaining as she would be, we have business to discuss, and we don’t need the distraction.”

“Of course,” Chet smiled, turning you toward the bar as Shane walked away. “Since he doesn't want you around, why don't you take advantage of the free drinks until I get back?”

“I’m not-”

“And not that you’d have any extra cash to tip, but it’s taken care of,” he continues, your face hot at the assumption that you couldn't afford to tip the staff. “Just behave and try not to make a fool out of either of us, you got it? Wouldn’t want your boss to hear about it if you do.”

Biting back a retort, you freed yourself from his grip. There wasn’t enough liquor at this party to get you through the rest of this evening. “Don’t worry about me, alpha. Go have fun,” you said, your eyes burning as he walked away. A few heads turned your way when your scent soured. It wasn’t enough that you had to attend an event where you didn’t belong, but your date just had to rub salt in the open wound by reminding you of such. “Fucking asshole,” you muttered, making your way over to the bar to order a drink.

Plastering a smile back on your face when you got the bartender’s attention, you ordered a whiskey on the rocks. You wanted something that would go down smooth but leave a little burn. You also preferred opting to watch the bartender make a drink in front of you instead of grabbing a glass of already poured champagne. The drinks were likely fine, but better safe than sorry. And like hell would you accept a drink from your sorry excuse for a “date” if he offered you one. He was lucky you-

An intoxicating scent hit you out of nowhere, making you grip the bar as you inhaled. Plums, whiskey, sandalwood. The blended aromas had your mouth watering, and a whimper threatened to slip out. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Desire burned in your stomach. As quickly as the scent excited you, it seemed to wrap itself around you in a soothing embrace. How could a smell leave you hot and bothered and also feel like a hug?

No… It couldn’t be your mate.

You caught a small movement out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped breathing when you found a pair of blue eyes fixed on you that belonged to a devilishly handsome man. He leaned against the wall, his wool-blend black suit fitting his thick body like second skin. Streaks of gray lined his luscious brown hair and peppered his beard, too. He looked like the kind of alpha who would have omegas kneeling at his feet, and it frightened you how badly you wanted to get on your hands and knees and crawl toward him.

His. Mine.

Lifting his tumbler to his lips, he kept his eyes on you as he sipped the expensive liquor. You wanted to look away but couldn't as the air crackled between you. He had you under some sort of trance you couldn't snap yourself out of. As frightening as it was to have a scent hit you so strongly, a feeling like this hit you square in the chest, the thought of him staring at another omega that way nearly made you hiss because you didn't want anyone else on the receiving end of those blue eyes.

He smirked like he read your mind and pushed himself off the wall. You did whimper out loud when you realized just how large he was. Dominant, assertive, yet there was something almost playful in his smirk when he finally broke his gaze. You greedily inhaled with the hope of catching more of his scent when he strode toward the nearby balcony, smooth and fluid as a server quickly took the empty tumbler from his hand. The men at the gala were all posturing, but no one could match the confidence of that alpha.

So how were people not surrounding him, begging for a scrap of attention? Was he untouchable among those who deemed themselves untouchable? He certainly didn’t look like the kind of man who chased after anyone. No, people went to him.

He wanted you to follow him, right?

Downing your drink in one gulp, your feet moved before you could stop yourself. “I don’t need this alpha,” you whispered, the words bitter in your mouth as you followed his path. If you were smart, you’d walk the other way and not look back. Yet the thought of never seeing him again made your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to examine.

Does he know?

Studies over the years showed that not every bound pair was the same. Some couples felt the bond instantaneously like a firework exploding. Others felt it like a small burn that slowly consumed them over time. For a few, the spark took a long time to ignite. You couldn't ignore this burn if you tried.

You welcomed the slight chill in the air as you stepped onto the large balcony. It was lit up with sparkling lights, yet it didn’t take away from the stars that shone in the sky above. The alpha who caught your eye stood by the railing, alone, like he was looking over a kingdom. You felt foolish for going out there to bother him.

Steeling yourself with false confidence again, you walked over to stand beside him. You weren’t close enough to touch him, wanting to leave him a respectable amount of space. You could always use the excuse that you just needed some fresh air if he asked what you were doing.

Stealing a glance at him, you didn’t want to believe that you had a true connection with this man, that he could be your mate. No way would an omega like you be his match. Would he even want an omega like you? One with dreams to do more, be more?

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice thick like honey and the whiskey you drank. Of course, his voice would be a powerful weapon. But he wasn’t scenting you, or trying to tear your collar off, or doing anything to indicate that he felt the sort of spark you had. Maybe that was for the best.

“It is,” you sighed, looking out at the view. You couldn’t deny the beauty and how much easier it was to breathe since you weren’t surrounded by the suffocating bodies and scents. “It really is something.”

“I was talking about you.”

You whipped your head toward him so quickly you nearly hurt your neck. The flare of heat in his eyes hypnotized you again, but this time you didn’t want him to draw you in. A man of his stature, his power, he could chew you up, spit you out, and leave you a shell of yourself. But seeing him up close, his laugh lines, and the touch of softness in his gaze, you wanted to know all about him and the life he lived.

You were in so much trouble.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“I don't think I’ve seen you at a gala before. I would've remembered you,” he stated. You weren't sure what to say to that. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky if you’d like.”

You blinked a few times. “You’re James Barnes,” you whispered, not having to belong in the inner circle to know who he was.

James Buchanan Barnes. One of the wealthiest alphas in the city, his family came from money and it was no secret that Bucky, as he liked to go by, wasn’t bound to anyone. People assumed that he didn't want to share his wealth with anyone beyond his charitable donations, or that he was either extremely picky in choosing a mate. And here he was talking to you. This was the man you thought could be your mate.

You were in way over your head.

“I am,” he said, looking at you expectantly.

It took a moment, but your name tumbled from your lips as you shifted toward him. He inhaled when a breeze rolled in and you hoped your scent got to him the way his scent got to you. The way his eyes darkened, it had. Your inner omega wanted to purr with delight.

Time stood still when he took your hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure,” he whispered, his lips brushing your knuckles. “I hope you don’t mind me being forward, but…”

“But what?”

You held your breath when he turned your hand and ran his nose along your wrist with a small growl. It was bold, intimate, possessive, and you got impossibly wet from the action. Had Chet or another alpha done that, it would've been a different story. “You smell divine,” he whispered against your skin.

You whined before your inner hackles went up, making him pull his mouth away immediately. He at least had some level of respect and sensed the shift in your stance. “How many omegas have you said that and done that to?” you asked when you had no right to feel jealous.

He didn’t look put off by your question, and he didn’t let go of your hand either. “I’ve come across a few delectable scents before, but I don’t think I’ve ever described anyone as divine,” he answered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. An intense longing behind his eyes had your knees weak. “I haven’t smelled anyone like you.”

This alpha was telling the truth, but he wasn't a boy scout either. He knew how to fuck, you could tell, and he likely broke hearts without intending to. You didn’t want to be the next victim if a quick fuck was all he was looking for.

“I haven’t smelled anyone like you either,” you admitted, grudgingly pulling away. His heady scent made it hard to concentrate. And standing close to a man who wore a suit that cost more than half a year’s rent was another reminder that you were a girl playing dress up, nothing more. “I should go. I shouldn’t be here.”

Bucky stopped you from turning away, his grip on your arms tender so you wouldn’t feel threatened. “And why is that?”

“Because I don’t belong here, and I don’t expect you to understand that,” you replied.

It was bad enough to let your guard down by following him out there, and you couldn’t let him seduce you more than he already had. You were lucky the very presence of him didn't trigger your heat. And how would your story end? He was a rich alpha, and you were a struggling omega. Was happiness really in the cards?

Your eyes widened when you heard the rumble in his chest, his scent producing a soothing aura that wrapped around you. Your lip trembled slightly as the rumble faded. Bucky could’ve let you walk away, yet he was comforting you. It made you want to cry.

“I may understand better than you think,” he whispered. Did he? Did he feel alone in that crowd of people there? “But help me understand why you feel that way.”

You rapidly blinked to keep the tears at bay. What was there for him to understand? “Okay,” you whispered back. The fact that he wanted you to talk to him meant something. “For starters, that crowd is kind of… well, awful from the short time I observed and interacted with them. They think they’re better than everyone else because they have so much, but they have no right to look down on others.”

The people in the gala simply flaunted what they had without a second thought. Being there made you appreciate your friends and their genuine interactions more. They worked hard for everything they had. They wouldn’t have anything against people born with a silver spoon in their mouths if they showed a little humility.

Bucky's chuckle surprised you. “Money doesn’t equal class, and believe me when I say they aren’t worth taking up any space in your beautiful mind,” he said, giving you a small smile. “To be honest, I came out here to get away from them because, save a select few, they're fucking assholes.”

You found yourself smiling, too. No wonder he has been standing by himself. “Is that the only reason?” you asked curiously, reaching up to touch his perfect hair simply because you could.

He looked at you, a mixture of lust and something soft. Standing like this you felt like a couple. “I may have wanted you to follow me, and I’m glad you did,” he said, his tone calm and casual as butterflies filled your stomach. “You’re the first person I’ve considered approaching in a long time, but you looked a bit upset when you went to the bar. I didn’t think bothering you would win me any favors.”

You exhaled. Was he the alpha who growled when Chet gripped you too tightly? “I…” you shivered when another breeze rolled in.

He shrugged his jacket the moment he spotted you shivered. “May I?” he offered.

You hesitated. Bucky had a powerful scent, and how would it look to Chet if you wore another alpha’s jacket? Chet wasn’t your alpha, but he could run his mouth and get you in trouble with your boss. It didn’t matter that you wanted to quit one day. Today wasn’t that day because you financially weren’t ready. That was the excuse you made up in your head.

But your inner omega wanted Bucky’s scent to surround you and you replied in a small voice, “Yes, please.”

Bucky carefully placed the warm jacket around your shoulders. “I know the crowd bothered you for good reason, but who specifically upset you and how can I fix it?”

“My date,” you answered. You didn't have it in you to lie to him. It also wasn't up to him to fix it.

Bucky hummed, running his hands up and down your arms. It helped warm and relax you. “What’s his name?” he asked, his eyes landing on the collar around your neck. You wondered what he would do if your mating gland was exposed, and you had to push that thought away.

“His name is Chet and he’s discussing business with some alpha.” The change in his scent was subtle. He seemed too confident to be jealous, but he didn’t seem pleased either at the thought of you being with someone else. “They were extremely condescending, and I couldn’t exactly throw a drink in their faces or put them in their place since I’m just an omega.”

Bucky snarled quietly, his eyes blazing. “You’re not just an omega,” he said. He was upset on your behalf. Was he not like other older alphas who wanted omegas to be subservient? “Maybe I should have a chat with them.”

You purred before you could stop yourself. Bucky offering to stand up for you felt better than you wanted to admit. “You don't have to do that,” you said, running your fingers through his hair again. You wanted to soothe him the way he soothed you. “Besides, I’m not really on a date with Chet. He just wanted me to be eye candy for the night.”

Bucky almost snarled again, but raised an eyebrow instead. “And you agreed to that? I have the feeling you aren’t the arm candy type.”

You giggled. He was right about that. “Didn’t really have a choice thanks to my boss,” you told him.

“Your boss? What exactly do you do for work?” he asked carefully.

He asked a lot of questions, but you didn't mind since he seemed genuinely interested. Maybe he assumed you were an escort. “I'm a designer,” you answered, smiling to yourself. “At least, I want to be. I’m just an assistant at the moment.”

“Let me guess. Your boss is an alpha, makes you do the grunt work, and takes the credit?” he mused, humming when you solemnly nodded. “And he convinced you to come here tonight because Chet is a client?”

“Something like that. It was either that or I get fired,” you laughed bitterly. “And if he fired me I’d get blacklisted, then I’d have no job, no money at all, and I’d lose my tiny apartment and…”

His nose wrinkled when you trailed off. You were so embarrassed, and you couldn’t stop your scent from souring. Talking to one of the richest alphas ever about your problems wasn’t something you thought you’d experience tonight, but that soothing rumble and smell came out again to help you breathe easier.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” he said with a touch of firmness so you knew he didn’t pity you. You could take a lot of things, but not pity.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you said, smoothing out some of the fabric on your dress and not wanting to dwell on the topic. “I actually made this,” you told him. It was silly, but you specifically wanted to hear something nice from Bucky to make you feel better, which was bad. You shouldn’t want compliments from him or want him period.

He parted his jacket so he could look you over. Unlike Shane leering at you earlier, Bucky seemed to take in the details of your design with a careful eye. “You made this? It’s stunning,” he said with pride that rivaled yours. You lost your breath when he ran the back of his finger along your torso, heat spreading through your body like a wildfire. “Like you.”

Your mind raced, the heavy weight of his gaze pinning you in place. The longer you stood there, the more you wanted him. You had to snap out of it. “You’re dangerous,” you whispered, shaking your head as his hand fell away. “I should go inside.”

He stepped back, his eyes searching yours. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you replied honestly. Some of his actions were forward, but he wasn’t pushy. He was the sort of predator who probably gently played with his food before he sank his teeth in, yet you weren’t completely afraid of the bite. “Though I’m wondering why you don’t have a date tonight. Keeping your options open?”

Maybe he really did want to live the bachelor life.

The corner of his lip tugged when you narrowed your eyes. “I come to these things to make a short appearance. That’s all,” he explained. Even the wealthy had obligations. “Unlike some alphas my age, I’m not interested in having a date for the sole purpose of eye candy. And because most of the people here are fucking assholes, I don’t usually find anyone to take home.”

“So, you aren’t interested in taking me home?” you tried to tease. If he said no, you could lick your wounds later since you’d likely never see him again. If he said yes, you… Well, you didn’t know what you’d do.

He reached out and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close enough that you felt just how big he was. A shudder wracked your body, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you. “I’m very interested in taking you home,” he breathed.

You lifted your eyes to him, his desire matching yours. “I-”

A young giggling couple stumbled out to the balcony reeking of booze. They took a few steps forward and Bucky moved you out of the way before they could crash into you. The ferocious growl he let out made the laughter cease, but it had you purring like a bitch in heat. “Leave,” he ordered, keeping his arms tight around you. The underlying threat in that single word had the couple rushing back inside, but they had effectively ruined the moment.

“I think that alpha almost pissed his pants,” you teased to cut through the tension.

“He’s lucky he didn’t tumble over the railing,” he said, loosening his hold on you and taking in your expression. You felt naked under his stare. “You aren’t ready to leave with me just yet.”

“I’m still here with a ‘date’,” you reminded him to cover up any feelings or doubts in your mind.

Other than Bucky being wealthy, powerful, and smelling like a sinful kind of heaven, you didn’t fully know him. Something within you felt like you did, but going home with him for the night… What if you disappointed him? What if he decided he didn't want you?

He gave nothing away as he stared at you while you felt like your eyes told him everything. It wasn’t fair how in control he looked when you were close to spiraling. “Let’s go sit inside,” he suggested, finally cracking a smile when your face scrunched up. “No one will bother us, and I’d like to keep talking to you even if you don’t decide to leave with me.”

“I guess it wouldn't hurt to sit with you for a few minutes,” you said, especially if he would keep others away from you.

His hand on your hip felt like it belonged there as he guided you back inside. The scents and mindless chatter didn’t bother you as much now, likely because all you could really smell and concentrate on was Bucky. Did his kisses taste like plums or whiskey? Both?

He brought to a corner near the bar, far enough away from the mingling crowd that you still felt a bit of privacy. You kept his jacket around you though the room was considerably warmer than it was outside, not quite ready to give it back to him. “Drink?” he asked, angling his chair so that his knees were touching yours. There was no table in front of you. Anyone looking would see how close you were.

“No, thanks,” you said. You already downed a glass of whiskey and your head was spinning thanks to him.

You felt his gaze on you for a full minute before he spoke again. “Your ‘date’ isn’t the reason you’re hesitating to leave,” he said, scratching along his beard. You bet it would feel wonderful between your thighs. “Is it me? Am I too old for you?”

You had to laugh. “You’re a gorgeous silver fox, so that isn’t the problem,” you said. Beneath the suit you knew he was in great shape, too.

He smiled a gorgeous smile, appreciating the compliment. “So it isn't my age. Do you think I won’t treat you well?”

“I know you’ll treat me well,” you answered, avoiding his gaze. You knew that in your core. “But I’m afraid of what happens in the morning.”

He forced your gaze back to him with a large hand. “What are you afraid of?” he asked, his thumb brushing your cheek.

Everything.

“I’m afraid if I get a taste of you it won’t be enough for one night,” you said, your heart pounding as he stared into your eyes. Like he was staring deep into your soul. “And it isn’t fair that you have that kind of power over me.”

He looked almost impressed with your answer. “I appreciate your honesty,” he praised, his thumb sweeping over your lips this time. “And it won't be enough. Once I get a taste of you, I won’t let you go.”

It wasn’t a matter of if with him, but when. “You couldn't possibly want me for more than one night,” you said. He knew you were just a struggling designer’s assistant and didn’t run with this crowd. You lived in different worlds.

“I’m going to want you every night.” He tilted his head when you shifted in your seat. “You feel it, don't you?”

You feigned innocence when he held your gaze, your heart racing. God, he had felt it. Was it an explosion, a slow burn, or something else? “Feel what?”

Bucky smirked, not at all fooled. “That you’re my-”

“Don’t say it,” you begged. Speaking the word would make it real and it wasn't something he could take back. “Because if you don’t want that or me, we can just go our separate ways and ignore it.”

He hadn’t marked you, and you hadn’t claimed him either. You didn’t know what it would feel like to have his knot, so you couldn’t possibly miss it. And neither of you would have to depend on the other. You could walk away with as minimal damage as possible, and you’d find a way to remain whole. So would he.

The low growl Bucky emitted made the nearby guests move away, but you weren’t afraid. “Ignore it? I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. I would've fucked you right out there on the balcony if that couple hadn't interrupted us,” he said, your body hot and needy at the thought of him fucking you while you looked out at the view. “I’m lucky finally finding you didn’t send me into a rut.”

You thought the same about your heat. “Bucky-”

“Our scents call to each other. We call to each other,” he said, placing his hand on your chest. How did your heart feel fuller from his touch? “Tell me you didn't feel a connection when you caught my scent and looked at me.”

“I felt something,” you admitted.

“And it compelled you enough to follow me outside, to open up to me,” he said. You couldn't deny that. “You may say you don’t belong here, but something inside you says you belong with me.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? Scare you?” you asked. Having mates could be wonderful, but what if he wanted that pull with someone who wasn’t you?

“No, it doesn’t,” he said. There wasn't even a whiff of fear, likely because he had nothing to lose. “In fact, I think you should quit your job and move in with me.

You looked at him like he suddenly grew another head. “Quit my job and move in with you?”

“Yes. Your boss doesn't deserve to have you as an assistant, and you wouldn't have to pay rent if you stayed at my place.”

You didn’t attempt to laugh off his request since he was completely serious. “You realize that sounds insane, right?” you added. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary though. Some couples who took their time building their bond still moved in right away.

“Insane would’ve been marking you the moment I saw you and dragging you home the way some alphas do,” he said.

You bristled. “It’s too soon for you to mark me,” you said, even as your mating bond throbbed.

“Don’t worry. I won't mark you tonight,” he assured you. Hurt crept up for a split second before he ran a finger along your collar. You visibly trembled and realized that he did want to mark you. He just wasn’t doing so tonight out of respect for you. “But you can still be mine in every other way until that day comes.”

You opened your mouth to argue. He hadn’t marked you, but you still felt owned. “You really think people want you with an omega outside of your tax bracket?”

“You think I give a fuck what they think?” His handsome face twisted in a scowl as he looked around. “And if they even think about insulting you, I’ll ruin them. It’s that simple.”

“It isn’t that simple,” you said.

“Why not? I know you're meant to be mine and you know it, too.” He touched your collar again, your mating bond throbbing almost to the point of pain. “You won’t need to worry about money or a roof over your head because I’ll give it to you. And a space to design your own clothes and make your dream come true.”

It sounded too good to be true, and nothing in this world was free. “I have my rent. If I break my lease-”

“I’ll pay what you owe.”

Your rent was probably pocket change to him. At least you didn’t have a roommate you’d have to worry about. It was always too risky to rely on someone else to help with bills and utilities. “And all that in exchange for what? Being your whore?”

He snarled, and you were delighted to hear that sound. “Trust me, doll, you may want me to fuck you like a whore, but I’ll treat you like a goddess. Like my equal,” he replied, his promise touching something deep inside you and drowning out most of your fear.

You just wished the remaining would fade away.

“I want us to be equals, but do you realize that you’d have all the power until I get my designs off the ground, right? I’d have to rely on your money, your roof over my head,” you said, swallowing the small lump in your throat. Did he realize what he was asking of you? To push aside the small amount of pride and independence you had? “I’ve done fine on my own and to have to depend on you is something else altogether.”

You hoped he at the very least realized how vulnerable you were right now by opening up more.

He looked vulnerable, too, as he moved closer. “I know it’s a lot to have to depend on me, but with me you wouldn't have to do this on your own. My finances don’t mean I have power. You’d have power, too,” he said. You wanted to believe you would. “In fact, I think you’re the only person in this entire city who could bring me to my knees. That’s power.”

You smiled a little. Could you really bring him to his knees? “As flattered as I am that you want to take care of me, do I have to decide tonight?” you asked. He was saying all the right things, and it was tempting, but there was so much to figure out beyond the living arrangements.

“We can discuss it more tomorrow if you’d like,” he said, looking around as you let out a breath. He had no doubt in his mind that you would spend the night. “Have you seen your date?”

You looked around, too, not at all worried when you spotted him. A complete contrast to how you felt at the beginning of the evening. “He’s…” You gestured to the bar where Chet was flirting with the loosely dressed omega from earlier and staring right down the front of her dress.

Bucky growled and swept his eyes over you, no doubt catching how you pressed your thighs together from the sound. A growl really shouldn't be that sexy. “Not a very faithful alpha, is he?”

“Well, he isn't my alpha, remember?” you pointed out. Someone like Chet would never be. “My boss only ‘suggested’ that I go with him tonight, and I made it clear I wasn't going to sleep with him.”

There was another hint of a growl before he smiled. “Wait right here. I’m just going to tell the young pup that you’re going home with me.”

You gripped his arm as he tried to stand. “Easy, old man. I didn't say I was going home with you,” you teased, knowing full well you were in fact leaving with him.

“Old man?” he smiled.

You shrugged. “You called me ‘doll’, which sounds like something an old man would say.”

“I think an old man is exactly what you need.” His eyes flashed with a deliciously dark promise that he was right and you’d enjoy every single inch of what he’d give you. “And you didn’t explicitly say you'd go with me, but we both know I’ve swayed you to go to my place.”

“You alphas are so cocky.” You refrained from rolling your eyes since he was right in this instance. “But maybe I should just stay here a bit longer and make you work for it since you want me so badly.”

He chuckled. “You’d rather stay here? Fine by me,” he said, leaning in close. “I’ll just slide my hand up your dress here and now and feel just how wet you are for me. I doubt anyone would notice if I made you come on my fingers. They’re too caught up in themselves.”

Your eyes closed when he touched your thigh. “You think I'm wet for you?”

“I know you are. I can smell it. Can practically taste it. You’ll let me taste you, won't you?” he purred, and you could only tremble as his hand moved higher, your legs parting to give him more access. “In fact, why don't I drag your ‘date’ over and let him watch while I lay you out and feast on your cunt? Show him what you'll never give him a taste of?”

You weren't sure if the pool of arousal was from the thought of Bucky eating you like a starved man, making that sad excuse for an alpha watch while he got you off, or both. You wondered what it would be like to taste yourself on his lips. “And why would you let him see what I look like when I come?”

He seemed to consider your question. “That’s a good point. He shouldn't see how you look when you come.” Bringing his hand to your face, your breath hitched when he caressed your cheek with such care. “But you’ll never have to hide that beautiful expression from me.”

“Hey!”

You pulled away from Bucky in time to see Chet storm over. “Shit,” you whispered when he furiously looked between you and Bucky. You were shocked smoke didn't come out of his ears.

“What the hell are you doing? I said enjoy the free booze, and do not embarrass me. You can't even follow a simple instruction,” he snapped. You refused to bare your neck when he showed his teeth. He wasn’t going to embarrass you either. “The only reason you can even step foot in this place is because of me. You fucking sl-”

Bucky was out of his seat before you could blink, his hand wrapped tight around Chet’s throat and cutting off the remainder of his insult. A few patrons gasped and stopped to watch as Chet clawed at Bucky's hand, but no one stepped in to help. The anger that poured off your alpha was enough to deter anyone from getting involved. And you were loving every second of it.

“She’s my mate,” Bucky said through his teeth, making Chet’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Biology may say you’re an alpha, but you’re nothing. And I’m tempted to crush your windpipe for insulting her.” He squeezed harder and smirked when Chet wheezed. “When her boss asks how the gala went, you’re going to sing her praises. If you don't, I’ll hunt you down and make sure you can never knot anyone ever again. And that’s just the start of what I'll do to you.”

It was almost humiliating how turned on you were by Bucky's dominant display. You thought you’d be an omega who wouldn’t want an alpha acting like, well, an alpha, yet his defense of you meant a lot. “Bucky.” You stood up and smiled when he looked at you, his anger shifting to something softer. “You can let him go.”

Chet fell to the ground and coughed once Bucky released him. Your alpha bared his teeth with a snarl and Chet showed his throat like an obedient dog. It was clear who the top alpha was.

“Apologize,” Bucky commanded. Not only did Chet cough out an apology while avoiding your gaze, a few others said “sorry” as well. That was how powerful this man was. And you wanted him more than anything.

“Thanks for the free booze, Chet. And don't worry about me getting a ride home. I think you should worry if that omega still wants you after your… performance,” you smiled, linking your arm with Bucky’s. “Have a great night.”

There was no need to fake your confidence as you and Bucky walked out together. It didn't matter at the moment what they thought of you. All you could think about was how Bucky defended you, and how he called you his mate. It was out in the open. He…

Oh, God.

“Thank you for defending me, but you do realize you just told everyone that I’m your mate, right?” you whispered. That gossip would spread before the night was over.

“Is that what I did?” he asked, smirking when you hissed and glared. “And you don’t need to thank me. He had it coming.”

The smirk was still on his handsome face as the valet brought his car around. What the hell were people going to say? He didn’t care what they thought and neither should you.

“Listen, Bucky, just because you…”

Bucky held your face in his hands, leaning in so close you felt his breath against your lips. His mouth barely grazed yours, carefully teasing you with the promise of what was to come. “Just because I what?” he rasped, and you swear you felt more slick stain your already ruined panties.

“You better get me off before we get to your place,” you said instead of finishing your original statement because you truthfully forgot all about it when his lips touched yours.

Your insides tinged with more heat and desire when he nipped your bottom lip. “You better say my name when I get you off.”

“Should I say Bucky or James?” you smirked.

“Bucky. Reserve the name James for when you’re upset or extremely serious,” he winked, thanking the valet before helping you into his vehicle. You had never been in a car this nice.

“And you won’t mark me tonight?” you asked once he got up, touching the back of your collar to make sure it was still secure.

“We still have a lot to figure out before I mark you,” he said, leaning over as you sighed in relief. “But before we go…”

His mouth landed on yours, both strong and soft as he took possession of yours. The entire gala could've gone up in flames and you wouldn't have noticed since all you felt was him. You tasted his hunger when his tongue plunged inside, and there was a hint of desperation, too. He was starving for you and you moaned, deepening the kiss to show that you were just as eager.

You panted when he broke the kiss. “Don’t make me regret trusting you,” you breathed, your eyes once again giving everything away.

His nose bumped yours affectionately as he dragged his lips to your forehead. You didn't expect such a fond gesture from him, and you had to bite your tongue so you wouldn't blurt out how nice a kiss to the forehead felt. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss against your skin.

Your heart felt full, and your inner omega wanted to shout with joy. “Take me home then.”

Bucky sped off a moment later, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. Your core ached as you looked at him, giving you a chance to once again take in his profile. The saying of aging like fine wine probably rang true for him. You imagined he was always good looking, but he was both rough and refined thanks to his age. People who said perfection didn’t exist clearly never saw him before.

“You like what you see?” he asked.

“I do, but you know that,” you answered, his jaw clenching when you pulled your dress up to reveal your legs. “And didn’t you promise to get me off before we got to your place?”

The sexual tension that had been building up spiked, and you sensed his need to claim you in some capacity was rising to the surface. “Give me your panties,” he ordered, giving you a sharp look. “Now.”

“You’re bossy,” you smiled, pushing your dress higher. He swore under his breath when you gripped your underwear and slid it off, your slick practically dripping from the flimsy fabric. No one ever got you that wet before. “But I kind of like it.”

He chuckled, licking his lips. “You like it because it’s me,” he pointed out, snatching the underwear out of your hand once it was within reach. You watched with a whine as he brought it to his nose and deeply inhaled. “Fuck…” he growled, bringing the fabric to the tent growing in his pants next and rubbing all over it in a filthy display. Watching him ruin his pants with the scent and slick of your pussy had you soaking the seat beneath you. “Spread your legs and show me that pretty cunt.”

You trembled when he took his eyes off the road. Pulling your dress over your hips, you obediently spread your legs and let him get a good look at what would soon belong to him. “You like what you see?”

“Just wait until I tie you to my bed and get a real look before I fuck you. It’ll be a shame to wreck something so pretty, but you’ll thank me for it,” he replied, looking back at the road as he sped up. Oh, you’d thank him over and over. “Touch yourself, but don’t put your fingers inside.”

Bringing your hand between your legs, you gasped at how sensitive you were. It was like you were in heat, but fully aware of your surroundings. “Like this?” you asked, moving your fingers along your folds.

“Just like that,” he whispered, his gaze darting between you and the road. You hoped one day he’d fuck your throat while he drove. “Now give me your hand.”

You presented your glistening fingers to him, giving him the opportunity to grip your wrist and suck the wet digits into his mouth. You felt his mouth water from your taste, the groan of arousal in his throat making you shake. He didn’t stop until he licked your fingers clean. “You taste just as divine as you smell,” he said, releasing your hand and reaching over to cup your mound. “And I need more.”

“I need more, too,” you moaned, his palm rubbing your clit and building that ecstasy within you. He teased your dripping hole with another finger, but didn’t push inside yet. You arched your hips, trying to get him to breach you. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl saying please,” he praised, finally pushing a thick finger inside. You clenched around him so tight, your body wanting more. “Fuck, you’re tight. And wet. Made just for me. Imagine how good you’ll feel once you’re stretched around my cock.”

“Want your cock,” you moaned, opening your legs wider. “Want your big cock inside me.”

“Yeah, you do. You want my big, bare cock in your soaked cunt,” he said, pushing another finger in, your slick coating them. You didn’t let anyone fuck you bare before, but you’d let him. “You want my knot, too.”

You moaned, an image of you on your hands and knees flashing in your mind, Bucky’s strong hands pulling you back to meet every thrust until he locked your bodies in place. You could practically feel his teeth sinking into your neck to fully seal your fate. Or would he make love to you, linking your fingers together and kissing you with care as he tenderly pushed his knot in? It didn’t matter. He’d give you everything, and you wanted it all.

“Are you hard just thinking of fucking of me raw?” you moaned, the need to rip the top of your dress open to reveal your breasts strong. No… If your dress was going to get torn to shreds, he could do that himself. “Coming so deep inside me you’ll drip out of me days later?”

The next growl he let out was inhuman, his fingers curling until you cried out. “My good little omega has a dirty mouth on her,” he smirked.

“I do have a dirty mouth. You should fuck it sometime,” you smiled sweetly before your mouth fell open, his expert fingers fucking you deep. Talking dirty to him helped stamp down your emotions a bit, but they were threatening to surface the more he touched you. “Bucky.”

“That’s it. Say my name. Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded. Your back arched, gripping the leather seat until your hand ached. Your body certainly knew who owned you. “Tell me who’s going to take care of you.”

You bit your lip to hold back your whimper, your heart pounding out of control. No one took care of you. No one wanted to until tonight, and you hadn’t wanted that either.

He stopped moving his fingers, keeping perfectly still as you hissed in frustration. Was he really going to build you up and not let you finish? “Tell me,” he demanded again, gentler this time.

Your eyes burned, but you swallowed your pride. Again. “You, Bucky,” you whispered, trusting that he’d be an alpha of his word. “You'll take care of me.”

He cooed when you whimpered, slipping a third finger in and moving them again. “That’s my girl. My good omega. I know that wasn’t easy for you to say,” he praised, so proud of you. Part of you was proud of yourself, too. “Do you need to come?”

“Yes!” you cried out, desperately trying to ride his fingers as the pressure grew. You were so close. Just a little more…

“Then do it. Get that slick all over my hand and seat,” he said, pushing against your bundle of nerves once more as your body locked up. “And say. My. Name.”

Waves of pleasure rolled through you, colors blurring your vision as you cried his name. Your eyes rolled back as the squelching sound of your cunt filled the car, his fingers helping you ride it out. You were drowning, unable to breathe until you broke through the haze. You felt ruined already by his fingers. Oh, his cock was going to destroy you.

“Fuck, that’s it. Give it to me. That’s my good girl. Can’t wait to feel that all over my cock.”

He only removed his fingers when you whined and licked your essence away with a low moan. The beautiful bastard still looked so put together, and hadn’t swerved once while he drove. “Holy shit,” you exhaled, your walls still fluttering. The orgasm took the edge off while leaving you wanting more. “Did I… soak your hand?”

“You did,” he confirmed, your face hot. “Fuck, I’m going to need an entire weekend to eat your sweet cunt just to start,” he said, flashing you a smile. “And you make very pretty sounds when you come.”

You managed a smile as you slumped in the seat, your dress still bunched around your waist. “What do you sound like when you come?” you asked breathlessly.

“You’ll find out,” he promised.

You trembled again when he put his hand back on your thigh, your hand immediately covering his. You needed his touch to ground you, but didn’t want to say so. “I just realized something,” you said once you fully caught your breath.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“If you’re my mate but you haven’t marked me yet, and you plan to pay for… well, everything for me for the time being,” you said, a laugh bubbling up when you saw that your window was fogged up. You drew a little smiley face, making you laugh more before you glanced at him. “You’re kind of like my sugar daddy.”

The look on his face before he laughed made him look younger, the sound affectionate and happy. How many managed to make him laugh like that? “Does that mean you’re going to call me ‘Daddy’?”

“Don’t push it, old man,” you giggled. Though if anyone could sway you, it would be him. “Why don’t we just stick with ‘alpha’ for now?”

“That and Bucky,” he suggested, turning his hand so your palm rested against his. “I like hearing you say my name, doll,” he added in a whisper.

“I like saying your name, Bucky,” you said, your brows furrowing. “But who came up with that nickname?”

He chuckled again, your skin tingling when he lifted your hand to kiss it. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes, I do,” you said.

He stole a glance at you. Through the heavy scent of your orgasm, you detected joy seeping from him. It made you feel happy, too. “Okay,” he smiled, running his thumb along your hand. “I got the nickname a long time ago…”

You twisted more in your seat to face him as you listened, lost in his voice and smile. There was so much you had to learn about your alpha. His likes and dislikes. What he would be like before, during, and after his ruts. He had a lot to learn about you, too. You wouldn’t give up on your dream of becoming a designer, and accepting his help may not be such a bad thing.

And maybe accepting the fact that you had a mate to depend on wouldn’t be such a bad thing either.

So, what do we think so far? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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iamnotoriginalphil · 5 months ago

Text

I Dwell in Possibility (Casey Novak x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Your aunt Liz warns you to stay away from her ADA. Too bad for her, you'd never been good at doing what you're told.

Words: 9.3k

Warnings: Forbidden romance, reciting poetry, oral (R giving), hickeys, swearing, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, secret relationship, strap (R receiving), dirty talk, angst, hurt/comfort

“You’re not my aunt.”

The woman looking up at you from the low sofa was not the one you were expecting. Strawberry blonde hair shining in the overhead light, fierce green eyes, full pink lips, she was the kind of woman that would devastate your heart with so little effort. Leaning your hip on the doorway, you checked the door again, certain you were in the right place. It was just like you remembered from all the hours you’d spent staying out of trouble under the watchful gaze of your aunt during your more rebellious years as a teenager.

“Not last time I checked,” the mystery woman said.

Her eyes swept over you, assessing in a way that made your nerves vibrate. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, letting her look her fill, hoping you’d pass muster. You didn’t even know her name, and yet you wanted this woman’s approval.

“I didn’t realise Judge Donnelly had a niece,” she said, her voice a low timbre.

“I have two, and don’t even think about it.”

You whirled, finding your aunt standing behind you, the kind of look that once had you quaking in your boots on her face. Instead, your face split into a huge grin. Her face softened upon seeing you, not in a way most people would notice, but she’d been your favourite person by the time you’d graduated high school and moved away for college. She was the only reason you’d managed to get in somewhere decent. Somehow, despite all your raging against The Man, she’d kept you on track. Your sister had never understood your relationship with her, being one of the people who quaked under her gaze.

“Guess who’s back,” you said, giving her some nice jazz hands to drive your point home.

“No wonder the amount of the trouble in the city has increased,” she said.

“You missed me. Just admit it,” you said, knowing you were being the kind of cheeky that could get you told off.

She sighed but her embrace was tight. You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. You’d missed it more than you could possibly put into words.

“So you finally finished grad school,” she said once you’d drawn away.

“I’m a bonafide doctor now. No way you can go around telling everyone I’m your wayward niece. You can just admit I’m your favourite without shame,” you said.

“And you’re a doctor in what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Something very interesting and not at all practical, just like God intended,” you said.

She shook her head but you saw the way her lips curled up into a smile. She finally entered her office, you trailing after her. The woman, still an unknown, had been watching with a rapt attention that kept making your skin prickle. Your eyes darted down to her, teeth sinking into your lower lip again.

“Please tell me you haven’t returned to the city looking for a hand out,” your aunt said as she sat in her chair behind her imposing desk.

“I’ll have you know I have actual employment like a productive member of society,” you said.

She scoffed but it was the fond kind, not the kind that said you were in danger. You were achingly familiar with both.

“No, seriously. My supervisor knew a guy in the English department at NYU and put in a good word for me,” you said, “I’m teaching intro to the Romantics this year.”

“A worthwhile endeavour I’m sure,” she said.

“Hey, critical thinking is an important skill. Plus, reciting poetry always goes down well when trying to score a date,” you said, falling back on the couch. Only as your arm brushed hers did you remember someone was already occupying it.

“Tell me you didn’t spend all those years at college just to pick up women,” she said with an eye roll.

“That wasn’t the only reason. It was just an added benefit.” You winked at the woman sitting next to you, lips pulling up into a smirk.

“Get out,” your aunt said.

Your eyes shot back over to her but she was looking at the woman beside you.

“You asked me to come see you,” she said.

“Later,” she said.

She stared at your aunt for a moment before she collected up her papers back into the file they’d originally come from. You watched her leave, appreciating the pencil skirt she was in.

“Who was that?” you asked once the door was closed and you knew she wouldn’t hear you.

“ADA Casey Novak and if she knows what’s good for her she’ll stay away from you,” she replied.

“Aw, are you getting all protective, Aunty Liz? You’ll be putting Dad out of a job,” you said.

“Oh, I’m trying to protect her. You’re a hurricane of trouble,” she said.

“Maybe I’ve grown up. It has been a while since I’ve lived here,” you said.

“Stay away from my ADA,” she said, using her commanding voice.

She should have known better. You’d always wanted what you weren’t allowed. And you wanted Casey Novak.

Over the next few weeks you were around your aunt’s office a lot more, traversing the halls as you reacquainted yourself with the building. Keeping your eye out for a certain strawberry blonde, you’d wander around as you waited for your new job to start. Your aunt, doing her best to ignore what you were doing, put up with your impromptu visits with grace.

Sitting in on one of her trials, you found yourself coming face to face with Casey Novak again. Or rather, you could lean back and watch her dominate in the court room. It sent a flutter through your body and an itch in your fingers to sink into her. She was magnificent, a sight to behold, a lion taking down her prey with a precision that was breathtaking.

And from her pursed lips, your aunt was not happy about your presence there to see such a display.

“What are you doing here?” she asked after calling a five minute recess.

“I came to see you in action. I like watching you scare the little people,” you replied, “tell me, I’ve always wanted to know, do you practice that scowl in the mirror or does it come naturally to you?”

“You don’t care about my scowls. You couldn’t keep your eyes off a certain ADA I warned you to stay away from,” she replied.

“Aw, you do care,” you said, “you seriously think I’m going to ruin your ADA?”

Something interesting settled in her face, arms crossed over her chest. You sighed, looking away from her.

“If it means that much to you, Aunty Liz, I won’t do anything with her,” you said, knowing that giving up one gorgeous woman was the least you could do for the woman who kept you from making all the wrong decisions with your life.

She gave you a small smile, one of the fonds one that let you knew you’d made the right decision. It was the kind she gave you any time you came back with an A on a test she’d helped you study for. You sighed.

“But you owe me one. She is insanely hot,” you said, but you were smiling and the sting wasn’t so bad when it was your decision to follow the rules.

You left the courthouse, knowing you had prep work to do before the semester started. No more stalking the halls hoping to run into Casey Novak by “coincidence” and strike up a conversation that might end in her bed. She was just another gorgeous woman who would remain a ‘what if’.

It was easy to push thoughts of her to the side in the flurry of semester beginning. You couldn’t believe how much work went into teaching a college course, your sympathy going out to every professor you’d ever had. Especially those teaching your intro classes, when freshmen came in with all the confidence they hadn’t earned.

“When did becoming devil’s advocate become the cool thing for boys to do?” you asked.

Your aunt looked up at you from over the rim of her glasses, looking less than impressed with your question. You sighed, slumping back against her sofa. On one of the few days you weren’t teaching, you’d sought refuge in the only place you knew would offer you both a slap over the head and a warm hug. Using the pretence of lunch, you’d brought her food and your frustration.

“Okay, sure, they’ve always kind of been like that but now I have to hold my tongue and not go off on how stupid they are,” you complained.

“Yes, because now you’re the adult in the room,” she replied with all the judgement held in her body in her voice.

“How do you manage it?” you asked, looking at her again, “I’ve seen some of your cases. You’ve dealt with some real…”

You couldn’t find the right word.

“Assholes?”

You turned, finding the only woman in the city you were forbidden from even thinking about standing in the doorway. Your aunt’s eyes darted to yours then back to Casey Novak and you saw the warning there.

“You said it, not me,” you said with a small laugh.

The way she stepped into the room had you forcing yourself to look away. Her hips were swaying with a cockiness you’d attempted to pull off plenty of times and had never quite managed. If you kept staring you might never stop.

“Did you need something, Casey?” your aunt asked.

“The Jensen case,” she replied.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” you said, standing, collecting up your rubbish.

Your shoulder brushed Casey Novak’s as you passed her, a jolt of electricity going through you. Your gaze caught on hers as you passed and you felt your breath still.

It was a good thing you loved your aunt so much or else you’d be in trouble.

Taking yourself out for coffee was becoming one of your Saturday traditions. A worn paperback in your hands and a corner table with your caffeine fix and some kind of pastry was easily becoming your favourite part of your week. It was early enough in your weekend that you didn’t feel guilty for not having started on any of the work you still had to get done for Monday morning. You could relax, taking time for yourself.

“Is this seat taken?”

You glanced up, expecting someone looking to steal the other seat and take it to their table. Instead, green eyes were looking down at you, pretty pink lips curling up into a half smile. Casey Novak, in jeans and a t-shirt, hair pulled back, was standing before you in the morning light, looking like a dream come to life.

“Not at all,” you said.

She sat, legs spreading just enough to make you wonder if she was doing it on purpose. Leaning back in the chair, her eyes slid over you, leaving fire in their wake. You took a slow slip from your coffee, tongue dragging over your lower lip as you put the cup down.

“Is there something I can do for you, ADA Casey Novak?” you asked when her gaze darkened.

“You can start by just calling me Casey,” she said.

She thanked the waiter as he placed a coffee in front of her. You watched her take her first sip, her eyes closing in bliss. She placed the cup down again, turning that burning gaze on you.

“So what do you want, Casey?” you asked.

“Knowing your name would be a start,” she said.

The way it sounded on her lips as she repeated it made you shiver. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip again and you saw her focus on it, leaning forward slightly. The heat that went through you was searing and the throb was insistent, keeping time with your racing heart.

This was dangerous.

“Judge Donnelly is very determined to keep us from running into one another,” she said, a soft hum of a voice.

“So you thought you’d hunt me down to see what all the fuss is about?” you asked.

“Call it a happy coincidence. I was passing by, you happened to be here, no planning involved,” she said, “so your aunt can’t crucify me for taking the opportunity to say hello.”

“Do you always do what you’re told not to do?” you asked, tilting your head towards her.

“Not always. Only if it sounds fun,” she said, her smirk making your heart flutter. This felt too much like flirting.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, ADA Casey Novak,” you said, leaning away from her.

“Nothing wrong with a little trouble,” she said.

Certainly not when trouble looked like a smirking Casey Novak.

“And besides, who needs to know? I don’t see you ratting us out to Donnelly,” she said.

Her fingers brushed over the back of your hand, sending sparks up your arm. Your lips parted as your hand flipped, offering her your palm. They traced over it, the feeling of her touch burning through you. You weren’t proud of yourself for giving in so easily, but pretty women had always been your downfall.

“I promised her,” you whispered.

“We’re not doing anything. It’s just coffee,” she said, the definition of temptation.

“You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

“I’m used to getting what I want,” she said and you found it intoxicating the way her eyes smouldered as they looked at you.

“I suppose she didn’t say anything about not having coffee together,” you said slowly.

Her satisfaction was obvious in the smug set of her shoulders. You laughed and something in her face brightened.

“What are you reading?” she asked, nodding down to your book as her finger continued to trace patterns into your palm.

“Frankenstein,” you said, nudging it closer to her, “I can’t read poetry every moment of every day.”

“Do you really recite it to pick up women?” she asked, picking up your old book, the spine cracked to the point it fell open in her hand.

“Thy soul was like a star and dwelt apart/thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea,” you recited to her.

You saw a flush bloom high on her cheeks, eyes sparkling as she seemed to lose whatever smart comeback she had. You grinned, hiding it behind your coffee cup, lowering your eyes in a show of false modesty. You liked seeing her a bit flustered, finding it enchanting.

“I suppose I can see the appeal,” she said eventually.

“Wordsworth has yet to fail me,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes at her.

She pushed your novel back across the table to you and then downed her coffee. Her fingers threaded through yours, palm to palm, making you feel like you were losing control of the situation already.

“Did your aunt happen to say anything about ice cream?” she asked.

You shook your head, teeth sinking into your lip again. She grinned, standing, pulling you with her.

“Then let me show you the best ice cream in the city,” she said.

Later, when she’d managed to convince you to return to her apartment with her, she tasted of danger. And trouble. And everything that could destroy you.

When you returned home early Monday morning you were buzzing. You could still feel her lips on your skin and her taste was burnt onto your tongue. Hickeys littered your body and you were deliciously sore. You still smelt like her and you wanted her perfume to linger on your skin for as long as possible.

Maybe Aunty Liz had been onto something about staying away from her.

When she called on Tuesday night you didn’t hesitate to pick up. Lying on your couch, drink in hand, you pressed the phone to your ear as her smokey voice whispered to you.

“Please tell me your day was better than mine,” she requested without even a hello.

“I suppose that depends on how your day was,” you said.

“My case got thrown out,” she said.

“That sucks. Sorry,” you said, “I had a student tell me that only men know how to write romantic poetry.”

“Do you write poetry?” she asked.

“Only of middling talent,” you replied, “nothing worth repeating.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. You are a doctor after all,” she said with a small laugh.

“That brag was for my aunt, not for you,” you replied but you were chuckling too.

“Lucky me for being in the room,” she said.

A knock sounded on your door.

“Hang on,” you said, standing up with a groan.

Pulling the door open you should have been expecting the woman on the other side of the door but you hadn’t been. Her lips pulled up into a smile and you held the door open wider for her. Her fingers brushed the back of your hand as she stepped inside.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” you said into the phone, “a devastatingly sexy woman just arrived.”

She tossed her cell phone on the couch with a laugh. Your hands landed on her hips, pushing her back until you had her pinned to the wall. Her hands cupping your cheeks dragged you up onto your toes to kiss her, long and slow and deep. She hummed into the kiss, the vibrations going through you.

“Make me forget my day,” she requested when you finally pulled away.

You dragged her to your room, more than happy to oblige. You lowered her onto the bed, crawling up her body. Your hands were seeking her skin, pushing up under the skintight turtleneck she had on. Just the sight of it was driving you crazy, remembering the feeling of her curves in her hands. You kissed her again, not able to stop yourself.

She sighed when you pulled her shirt over her head, your hands finding home on her skin. Your thumb brushed over her ribcage from your hand’s place on her waist. Your lips ghosted down her body, feeling her tremble.

“There witching beauty greets the ravished sight/more gentle than the arbitress night,” you whispered into her skin.

She made such a soft noise, one that suggested her chest was caving in. You brushed your lips over the curve of her breast, enjoying the way her breathy moan spurred you on. Wrapping your lips around one peaked nipple, you laved attention on her. She arched into your, fingers winding though your hair. As you sucked, your name fell like a curse from her lips.

Your fingers were quick as they unbuttoned her slacks. Slipping your hand into her panties, you stroked through her folds. Her hips pressed up against your hand, wordlessly begging for more. You kissed across to the other breast, finding the yellowing hickey you’d left only a few days ago. With your tongue, you circled her other hardening nipple, teeth grazing over it for a moment.

“You’re so good at that,” she groaned, fingers tightening in your hair.

You grinned against her as you finger found her clit. Her breathy sigh was gratifying in ways you couldn’t put into words. Slowly, you kissed down her chest, hand slipping from her panties as you grasped her hips. You dragged her slacks down long legs you still remembered curling around you on the weekend.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said, looking up her body.

Your mouth made contact with her throbbing cunt. Keeping a tight hold on her hips, you pressed closer, tongue sweeping through her folds. You moaned at her taste, still addicted to it, the novelty of having her like this not yet having worn off. Staring up your body, you watched as her eyes squeezed closed, fingers fisting in your comforter.

Your tongue dipped into her entrance and a shaky curse fell from her lips. She was so beautiful as her face contorted with pleasure. Wrapping your lips around her bundle of nerves, you suckled as she whimpered above you. You held her in place, refusing to let her use you the way she wanted. You were going to take care of her.

Lifting her legs over your shoulders, you pressed her into the mattress. You couldn’t get enough of her, wanting to spend hours with her doing this. When she came, it was with your name on her lips, the sound of it going right through you.

You were slow to kiss back up her body, finding her lips waiting for you. She kissed you with an enthusiasm that had you groaning. Flipping you, she gazed down at you, lips pulling up into a smirk that was growing familiar.

“You’re entirely too clothed,” she murmured.

“You’d better do something about that then,” you said.

The next morning you woke with her arm flung around your waist and her face buried in your neck. It wasn’t a conscious decision to begin running your fingers through her hair, but when she pressed closer with a soft sigh you didn’t feel the need to stop. You closed your eyes again, nose burying in her hair, breathing in the scent of her perfume again.

“I need to get up,” she mumbled, lips brushing your skin.

“Don’t,” you whispered, “stay.”

“I can’t,” she said, “I need to go fight for my case to be reinstated.”

“You can do that?” you asked.

“If the detectives have found new evidence,” she replied, slow to sit up.

Your eyes tracked over the swathes of skin on display, feeling your mouth water. Something about Casey was addictive to you, making you desperate for more even after hours spent indulging in her body the night before.

“So committed,” you murmured, fingers tracing down her spine, “that’s pretty fucking hot.”

She turned, looking over her shoulder at you. Dark eyes swept over your body, half exposed from where the covers had pooled around her hips. You arched your back, offering more to her gaze.

“And if I win and this rapist goes behind bars, I’ll come back to celebrate with you,” she said.

“Promise?” You tried to smoulder, the way she did that made you feel electric.

She smiled, leaning own to press her lips to yours.

“Promise,” she whispered against your mouth.

She called you by the end of the week. You dressed up all pretty, in a nice dress and a nice pair of heels, hoping to make her head spin the ways yours always did. Meeting her at the restaurant, your breath caught at the sight of the smile she gave you. Then it moved double time as an appreciative look came into her eye.

“If this is what I get for winning a case, I think my conviction rate will go up,” she said, gaze slow to move down your body and then up again before meeting your eye, “you look breathtaking.”

You took her in, the silk dress clinging to her curves, her hair swept up in an elegant undo. Green was certainly her colour. Reaching out, your finger ran along the chain of the necklace she was wearing, watching the way a flush rose to her cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be allowed out like this,” you murmured.

“You don’t like how I look tonight?” she asked.

“I like it entirely too much,” you said, finger stopping at the base of her throat, “the things I want to do to you…”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” she chuckled, “patience, sweetheart.”

“I can be patient,” you replied.

“I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?”

Seated across from her, it was hard to look away. Her foot brushed your calf, sending a jolt through you. The way she was looking at you over her menu suggested you were what she was hoping to devour. You’d let her.

Placing your order, she took you through the trail, her voice soothing where the details were traumatic. Her foot kept bumping against yours under the table and each time her lips would quirk up. You found yourself leaning towards her, not able to stop yourself. Her gravity seemed only to affect you.

“But you didn’t ask for a blow by blow of the case,” she said, shaking her head after the food was placed down in front of you.

“I like listening to you,” you said.

“You do?” she asked, a surprise look crossing her face.

“Is that really so surprising?” Your fingertips brushed the back of her hand before retracting, “you have a way with words and the kind of voice I could listen to for hours.”

Something broke over her face, cracking open into a look of wonder. Your breath caught, not sure what to do with such a lovely expression on such a beautiful face. It was baffling that you could bring that out in someone like her.

“I’m beginning to see why your aunt wanted to keep us apart,” she said.

“What do you mean?” That was not what you were expecting to say.

“She knew I’d never let you go once I had you,” she said.

Your face softened into a smile. Reaching across the table, you threaded your fingers through hers, enjoying the feel of skin against skin. Her fingers tightened around yours, squeezing for a moment before she released you, beginning to eat.

“And here I was thinking the poetry was the way to seduce you, not the compliments,” you said, picking up your own fork, “might have to switch tracks if I want to keep you around.”

“I like the poetry,” she said, eyes darting up to you.

“And if I was reciting it to someone else…?” you prompted, wondering what was going through her head.

“Are you?” she asked, her gaze sharpening.

“Would it matter if I was?” you asked in response.

“I don’t like to share,” she said, her voice lowering, making you press your thighs together.

You took a slow sip from the wine she’d ordered. Her eyes darkened, lips pursing in a way that suggested you might be in trouble.

“So tell me, sweetheart, have you been reciting your poetry to someone else?” she asked.

“Not recently,” you said.

“How long?” she asked, and you were worried you were walking a razor edge with her.

“A few months,” you replied.

“What happened a few months ago?” she asked but you saw her lips begin to curl up into a small smile.

“I met a beautiful ADA and despite trying to be good, she was very convincing in tempting me to be naughty,” you replied.

She lent forward, her hand finding yours again. Tugging it up, her lips pressed a lingering kiss to your skin, making your breath catch. Your foot bumped hers under the table.

“Do you regret it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I could ever regret you, Casey Novak,” you replied.

“So you don’t want to stop?” she asked.

“When Aunty Liz finds out, we’ll deal with the fallout then,” you said.

“When?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“If you’re planning on never letting me go, it’ll have to come out eventually. We can’t keep it a secret forever,” you said.

“Eventually.” Her lips pressed to the back of your hand again, “but for now I want to keep you all to myself.”

The thought was pleasing. You held her gaze for a long moment, the weight of it all crashing into you. Your heart thumped in your chest, tripping over itself. You saw possibilities sparkling in her eyes, and the potential future you could build spiralling out before you.

“Who from the cup of amorous delight/dashes the sparkling draught of brilliant delight,” you murmured before taking a sip from your glass of wine. The way she looked at you was like you were something from out of space, beautiful and wonderful and completely unknowable. It was a heady mix.

She didn’t let you return home all weekend.

You slipped back into the monotony of your work come Monday, working through what you should have done on the weekend. It had been easy to forget the stack of papers you had to mark when her mouth was on you and you were gasping her name. It should have scared you, how easy it was to lose yourself in her, but you’d known the first time you’d seen her that she could render you into nothing. You welcomed it.

On Wednesday morning, when a note was sitting on your desk, you rolled your eyes. Curt, to the point, three words that gave you all you needed to know. You put it aside, booting up your computer.

Your aunt didn’t bother standing as you slid into the chair across from her. The food in front of you was what you’d always ordered, your favourite thing on the menu. Especially when she was buying.

“You summoned?” you said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was worried you’d gotten yourself into trouble,” she said.

“I don’t remember you being my parol officer,” you said, taking a bite of your lunch.

“Nothing you feel the need to tell me?” she asked.

“How about you just tell me what’s on your mind and then I can tell you. Or not, depending what it is,” you said with a wicked grin and a small shrug.

“You always go to work with a hickey on your neck?” she asked.

“Only if I had fun the night before,” you said, which you had.

“Do I want to know?” she asked.

“Are you asking for details about my sex life, Aunty Liz?” you shot back.

“Please, I’m trying to eat,” she said, indicating her soup.

“Don’t ask if you don’t want to know,” you said, “so why did you really ask me for lunch?”

“It’s my duty to check in on you. If not, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into,” she said.

“Don’t pretend, I know you care. You worry about me.”

She didn’t answer but you knew the truth.

“Are you going to tell me about the girl who’s giving you fun nights?” she asked after a moment of silence.

“Eventually, I’m sure,” you said with a small shrug, knowing you couldn’t tell her, “all you need to know is right now I’m very happy.”

“Clearly.” Her gaze lingered on the hickey you hadn’t bothered covering up that morning, “you know, you’re not the only one who’s coming to work looking less than presentable.”

“You got something to tell me, Aunty Liz?” you poked, trying not to grin at her like a menace. Her beleaguered sigh only made your grin grow.

“ADA Novak has worn the same outfit twice in a row more than once over the last few weeks. Right around the time you stopped calling me incessantly,” she said.

“Lucky girl,” you said.

“And you know nothing about it?” she asked.

“I made you a promise,” you said.

“So it’s just a coincidence?” Her penetrating gaze made you shift in your seat. You’d never been good at lying to her.

“Seems like it.” You looked down at your food, “it’s not a shock two hot women happen to both be getting laid.”

“Okay, you can stop.”

“Good because neither of us is enjoying this,” you said.

She was more than happy to drop the topic. You moved on to much nicer things, like work and how your mother was repainting her kitchen much to your father’s annoyance. She had strong opinions on your sister’s latest boyfriend. You did too.

It was easier when you weren’t talking about Casey.

You started being more careful. You kept the hickeys to places you couldn’t see with your clothes on. She left early enough to get home or brought a change of clothes with her. And you made sure you were never seen anywhere your aunt might be.

Mostly, you spent time in her apartment, curled up in the bubble of the whole thing. You couldn’t understand why your aunt had been so against you seeing her. Everything about her was wonderful, and you’d never felt so sure about a decision before.

“Listen to this,” you said, looking over the top of one of the essays you were marking, “‘he made nature a woman because as everyone knows women are weak and they break under the passion of a man’s love.’ Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” she said, “you should hear some of the stuff men say to justify what they do.”

“I couldn’t do your job,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“That’s why I do it, and why you talk about poetry all day,” she said.

“Is that judgement I hear?”

You placed the essay down, crawling towards her on the couch on all fours. She lent back, watching you with the kind of look in her eye that made you want to submit to her. Her legs spread, offering you the perfect place to stop. Your hands on her knees helped you to push up, drawing closer to her.

“Do you think I don’t have a real job?” you asked, “that I’m just a silly artist who contributes nothing to society?”

“You contribute plenty,” she said, one hand gently cupping your jaw, forcing you to look up at her.

“Do I?” you asked.

“Keeping me happy makes me better at my job. You do your part in putting away all the bad guys,” she said, slow to lean towards you.

“Better make sure you’re on top form tomorrow then, hadn’t I?”

Your marking could wait.

Casey let you stay at her place when your heating went out in the middle of winter break. Curled up in her bed, book in hand, half sprawled against the headboard, you let the hours pass. The door opened and closed again. Looking up, your eyes itched and you realised it had gotten later than you’d expected.

“Hey,” you said when Casey appeared in the doorway.

She looked exhausted, the slope of her shoulders, her heavy footsteps. Your heart ached for her. Her fingers weren’t careful as she unbuttoned her blouse, dropping her slacks to the floor. You still stared every time you saw her naked body, not quite believing you were allowed to see it. She was so beautiful.

She wiggled under the covers, depositing herself on top of you. Her arms curled around your waist, cold hands pressing to your skin as the buried under your sweater. Her face was buried in your neck. With your free hand you stroked a long line down her spine before curling your arm around her waist, feeling her let out a long sigh.

“Long day?” you murmured, lips brushing against her temple.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” she replied, muffled against your neck, arms tightening around you.

“Okay,” you said

In a soft voice, you began reading your book out loud to her until her breathing began to even out. It took a while, her muscles slow to relax. You would read to her all night if it would help, whatever she needed. When she finally dropped off, you gazed down at her, finding yourself enraptured. This was the kind of moment you made sure was burned into your memory.

You ignored the way she made you feel. You pushed away the thought that you were falling for this woman. Even as you knew it was true.

The wolf whistle that passed through your lips was loud. You grinned when Casey’s steps faltered, her eyes seeking you out. She sauntered towards you, an extra swing to her hips when she found you. Leaning back against the pillar you’d been waiting against, you watched her, not even bothering to hide your appreciation.

“I thought I saw you earlier,” she said, coming to a stop in front of you.

“I had to drop something off with my aunt. Thought I’d sneak a glimpse when I got the chance,” you said.

“And?” Her head tilted to the side, crowding you against the pillar without touching you.

“And I think you’re something amazing,” you replied.

Her free hand reached out, fingers tangling with yours.

“Bit risky doing this when your aunt is just inside,” she said.

“She’s stuck in court for the next little while,” you said, “plus, it’s been months and she hasn’t brought it up again. I think we’re in the clear.”

“Lucky us,” she said.

“So can I take you to lunch?” you asked.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I care,” you replied, then decided to pull out the big guns, “a poet could not but be gay/in such jocund company.”

Your fingertips brushed over her cheekbone.

“Fine, but you’re paying,” she said.

You took it as a win.

You gasped for breath, falling forward onto your elbows. The only sound was the slap of skin and your breathless moans. Casey’s hands were tight on your hips, leaving bruises on your skin. You pressed your hips back, your whines asking for more.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Casey asked, dragging her strap out of you.

“Uh huh,” was all you managed to say.

“Perfect little toy for my cock,” she said, slamming back into you.

You cried out as she hit that place inside of you that made you see heaven. Her name was nothing but a prayer on your lips.

“You were made for this, weren’t you?” she said, “God made you just for me to fuck.”

Her thrusts became rougher, harder, making you see stars. You were so close, feeling the wave about to crash into you. Your entire body was a live wire, every thrust making your head spin.

A loud banging on your door had Casey freezing.

“Ignore it. Whoever it is will go away,” you said, breathless and desperate.

She waited a moment for the knocking to stop before she slowly retracted from you before slowly pushing back in. Your whimper was pathetic, making her chuckle as she readjusted her hold on you.

The banging started on your door again.

Casey sighed, pulling full out of you. You growled, turning, the liquid heat in your veins calling out for more. The throbbing was unbearable. You’d been so close.

“Go handle that, sweetheart,” she said, running a hand through her hair, “then I’ll take care of you.”

You grumbled as you rose onto unsteady legs. Wrapping your robe around your naked body, you did your best to stride towards the door. Pulling it open, you were brought up short at the woman on the other side.

“Don’t tell me you were still in bed,” your aunt said.

“Okay. I won’t tell you,” you replied.

You glanced back over your shoulder, clutching your robe tighter around you.

“Are you going to invite me in?” she asked, her expectant look making you freeze.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Aunty Liz. I’m not exactly set up for company,” you replied.

“Or at least not company you have to be dressed for,” she said.

“What are you doing here?”

She pushed past you into your apartment. You were slow to close the door, hoping she’d leave, still feeling the slickness between your thighs begging you to go back to Casey and finish what you’d started. Her eyes slowly took in your place, lingering on the two cups of coffee on your counter.

“Am I finally going to meet your mystery woman?” she asked, turning to look at you.

“No,” you said, “did you need something or were just hoping to cock block me?”

“You’ve been dodging your mother’s calls. Call her back so she stops bugging me,” she said.

“Sorry. She just won’t shut up about redoing the living room and there’s only so long I can discuss the merits of eggshell vs seashell,” you said, running your fingers through your messy hair.

“Just call her,” she said, “I’d like not to repeat this experience.”

“That makes two of us,” you muttered.

The bedroom door was pulled open and your heart stopped in your chest. Both you and your aunt were slow to turn to the figure that had frozen in the doorway. Casey, wrapped in a sheet, cheeks still flushed and eyes wide, was staring back.

“Uh… it’s not what it looks like?” you tried when you got your voice back.

The look she gave you was withering. You shrunk under it, knowing the game was up. There was no talking your way out of this. Her jaw clenched and the tension in her body was enough to snap.

“I believe you gave me a promise,” she said, voice cold enough to give you hypothermia.

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice shrinking under her glare, “it just kind of… happened.”

“And when I asked you about it, you lied right to my face,” she said.

“What was I meant to do? You were so determined I should have nothing to do with her. An opinion I don’t understand and certainly don’t share,” you said, knowing you were sounding like the petulant teenager who had been dumped on her all those years ago.

“You don’t have to share my opinion but you gave me your word,” she said.

“Don’t blame her,” Casey said, finally stepping into the room properly, “I started this.”

“You also gave me your word,” she said, turning on her, eyes flashing dangerously.

“That’d ridiculous. You can have a say in my personal life but one of your ADAs? Seriously, Aunt Liz?” you demanded, “that’s gotta be some kind of abuse of power.”

“Don’t start,” she snapped.

“It’s fine,” Casey said to you.

“No. It’s totally an infringement on your rights. She can’t ask that of you,” you said.

“Sweetheart, she didn’t ask me as my boss,” she said.

“Fine, then I’ll be angry about it on my behalf. You can ask me but not other people,” you said, rounding on your aunt.

“Did you ever think that maybe I had good reason for telling you to stay away from her?” your aunt asked.

“So why did you?” you asked.

Her eyes flicked to Casey who was looking between the two of you like she was desperate to leave this situation. You shook your head, turning away from her.

“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done and unfortunately for you we’re happy together. I think it’s time for you to leave,” you said, gesturing back towards the door, “I’ll talk to Mom.”

You didn’t bother looking at her as she left your apartment, the door loud in the silence left in her wake. Your stomach was unsettled, a toxic mix of anxiety and anger, and all you could do was stare at Casey. The color had drained from her face and there was nothing you could do.

“Kind of a mood killer, huh?” you said, hoping to break the tension.

“I should probably go,” she said before disappearing back into your bedroom.

“What? No.” You followed her, “you don’t have to. We don’t have to let her ruin our weekend.”

She didn’t look at you as she dragged her clothes back onto her body. A chill went over you, leaving you off balance and unsure. All you could do was watch as she put herself back together.

“I’ll call you,” she said, hand gently cupping your chin as she kissed your cheek.

The door slammed shut behind her and you fell back onto your mattress, the first tear falling. You’d known it was going to be awful when Liz found out, but you hadn’t thought Casey would be sent running. You’d stupidly assumed her feelings were strong enough to take the hit of your aunt’s disappointment.

She never called.

You kept to yourself for a few weeks, waiting, hoping she’d come back. Any time you called her it went to voicemail and she never called back. You stayed home, ordering takeout you didn’t want and left mostly uneaten. You curled up on the couch, stumbling through the days, wondering what you’d done wrong. Because you must have done something wrong for her to disappear from your life like that.

It took a lot of pride for you to drag your overwrought body over to your aunt’s. It was late enough you thought she’d be at home, but your knocks went unanswered. Sinking down onto her front steps, you lent against the ice cold metal of the handrail debating letting yourself freeze to it. It would be easier than continuing on in the hole you’d found yourself in.

“You make a sad sight.”

You blinked up at the woman towering over you. With a sigh, you hauled yourself to your feet, using the handrail to hold yourself up. Your aunt considered you for a moment before pushing past you to unlock her front door.

“You’d better come in,” she said, “can’t have you freezing to death out here.”

You trudged after her, letting yourself be enveloped in the familiar home you’d spent so many hours in. Her steady hand on your shoulder pushed you down onto her couch, disappearing out the back into where you knew the kitchen was.

A warm mug was placed in you hands, painful against your frozen fingers. You sighed, staring down into the steaming tea, the same brand she’d been stocking for you since you started sleeping over when life got too much for you.

“I sense I’m going to regret this, but do you want to talk?” she asked, lowering into the leather armchair that felt synonymous with her.

“Why didn’t you want me to pursue Casey?” you asked.

You’d been wrong. Your aunt always had a reason for asking things of you and she’d yet to be wrong. This was all your fault by not listening to her. So you had to know why she’d been so adamant this time.

“What’s happened?” she asked in return.

“I haven’t heard from her since you found out. She won’t take my calls. She won’t come see me. So I guess it’s over. I should have listened to you,” you said, staring down into your mug of tea. You took a slow sip. It was the same thing that had been going through your head for days now.

“Yes, you should have.” Your head snapped up to her.

“You knew this would happen?” you asked.

“I knew Casey Novak is a heartbreaker. She’s beautiful and smart and passionate. Makes her a damn good ADA. But the moment I saw the way she was looking at you I knew she was interested. And the way you looked at her said you were too,” she said, “you’ve never been able to lie to me.”

“So why did you tell me to stay away from her?” you asked.

“I think you forget I know you. She’s the exact kind of woman you’d destroy yourself for. I didn’t want to see you get your heart broken,” she said and you were surprised by how soft she could make her voice.

“So it wasn’t because you didn’t want me to distract your best prosecutor?” you asked.

“Distract her. Break her heart. I don’t care. It’s your heart I was trying to protect,” she replied.

“So much for that.” You slumped back, staring into your mug like it held all the answers, “I really fell for her.”

“I know you did,” she said.

“When you brought her up over lunch all those months ago…?” you asked, finally looking up at her again, realising what she’d said about lying.

“I knew you were lying to me. Foolishly, I thought it would lose its charm if I stop telling you what to do. I should have known better,” she said.

“I really thought she was falling for me too.”

And then the tears came. Your Aunt Liz had never been a cuddler, but the squeeze of her arm around you and her steady shoulder beneath your head was exactly what you needed. She let you cry until there were no more tears and then sent you upstairs to bed.

By the morning you felt a smidge better. Less pathetic at least. You stayed the weekend with her, reverting back to your teenage self, letting someone else look after you for once. And so you called out sick on Monday and followed her to work.

Her sharp look was all the opinion she was going to give you. After you’d told her your plan the night before she’d made her disapproval clear. But you needed to do it. For your own peace of mind.

Slipping into Casey’s office, you shut the door with a quiet click. Your heart squeezed as she looked up at you. The expression that went over her face would be enough to bring the tears on again if you hadn’t done your best to harden yourself to her. But there were dark circles under her eyes and it looked like she hadn’t slept since you’d last seen her.

“Hi,” you said, leaning back against her door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“You never called.”

Green eyes darted away from you, the hands clasped on her desk tightening. You’d grown used to reading her body language and this was not a good sign.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if you wanted to end things I wish you’d just told me,” you said, leaving the safety of the door, “I mean, I got the message but it would have been nice if you could have just said something.”

“I’m sorry,” she said on a sigh.

You stared up at the ceiling, doing your best to keep from exploding your emotions all over her office. You heard the scrape of her chair pushing back. You focused on the light hanging above.

“Hope is a thing with feathers/that perches in the soul/and sings the tune without the words/and never stops at all,” you whispered.

A broken breath passed through parted lips. You inhaled sharply, turning your gaze back to her. Her eyes were swimming with an emotion you couldn’t name, tears welling, threatening to fall. You shook your head, looking down to your fingers, twisting together until you thought they might break under the strain.

“I really thought you liked me,” you said, “enough to handle my aunt’s disapproval. But I guess I was the idiot who fell for someone who didn’t feel the same.”

She stayed silent.

“She finally told me why she didn’t want us to get together. She knew you were going to break my heart. Next time I think about ignoring her advice I’ll come back to this moment,” you said.

She was still staring at you in silence. You shook your head looking away, disappointment welling in you again.

“That’s all I wanted you to know. I’ll leave you alone now.”

You turned to go, your sigh heavy. You should have expected this. She couldn’t even handle having a conversation to end things with you. As if she was going to say anything when you tried to have one. Still, at least you got it off your chest. That was really all you wanted to do. Your hand landed on the doorknob.

“Wait!”

You froze, not used to hearing such desperation in her voice. The ache in your chest only got worse. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t turn the doorknob either, hung between one decision and the next.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and you could just imagine the tear spilling down her cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I wanted to call. I did. But…” You heard her take a deep breath in, “I’m not good when it becomes real.”

“What does that mean?” You turned, surprised at the spike of anger you felt making your heart beat double time.

“It means the last time I let myself fall in love in went badly. He… It’s not important, but I haven’t been able to let myself get that vulnerable again,” she said, looking at you like that explained everything.

“So this was nothing but a bit of fun for you?” you asked, “you never cared about me?”

“No!” Her hands grasped your forearm, the first touch of bare skin you’d had from her in weeks making your head spin, “no. Maybe that’s how it started but no.”

“Then make it make sense, Casey. If it mattered to you then why did you disappear? Why did you do this?” you demanded.

“Because I cared.”

She thrust her fingers into the front of her hair, gripping at the roots. She turned away from you, the anguish clear on her face. It was like a punch to the gut, sending you reeling. Your shoulders slumped, staring at her as she paced. The impulse to reach out and comfort her was still strong. You hated yourself for it.

“Look, I could ignore the way I was falling for you when it was just us. I could lie to myself and say it was just sex. That I didn’t want more. But then Donnelly was there and you were trying to protect me and I knew. I knew I was in love with you,” she said and you felt your heart break right there in her office.

“You were a coward,” you said, and it wasn’t nice but it was true.

“I was,” she agreed, “I didn’t want to hurt you but I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“You said you’d never let me go,” you said.

“A good line I thought would make you smile,” she said, shaking her head, “I didn’t expect you to actually want it.”

“Do you still love me?” you asked.

“What?” Her brow furrowed.

“After all this, do you still love me?” you asked.

“Does it matter?” she asked in return.

“Just answer the damn question.” You hadn’t expected to get angry but she jumped as you raised your voice.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breathless.

“Good.”

Your hands landed on her hips, forcing her back against her desk. Her lips parted and a flush bloomed over her cheeks. Pushing up onto your toes, your lips ghosted over hers.

“That I did always love/I bring thee proof,” you murmured.

You kissed her then and her whimper was music to your ears. Her arms came up around you, hands pressing between your shoulder blades, keeping you pressed against her. Your tongue swept into her mouth, needing this more than you’d realised. You’d thought this was the end. Instead, warmth was blooming in your chest and you felt giddy as you kissed her deeper. You couldn’t get close enough to her.

She drew back, breath heaving, eyes still closed. You ran your fingertips along her lower lip. She pressed a kiss to them before her eyes slowly blinked open.

“I know you’re scared, and I know you think you’re not good at this, but I’m not letting you go without a fight. I love you, ADA Casey Novak,” you said.

“Just Casey,” she whispered, voice breaking, a tear slipping free.

You wiped it away, then the next and the one after that.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said.

“No, you don’t,” you said, sliding your fingers into her hair, “but lucky for you I’m pigheaded and I’m used to getting what I want. Sound familiar?”

Her chuckle was wet but she pinched your side until you laughed too. She lent forward, forehead pressing to yours. Your hands slid around to interlock at the small of her back.

“So will you pick up when I call you tonight?” you asked.

“I’ll do you one better.” She cupped both your cheeks, tipping your face up towards her, “I’ll give you my spare key and you can be waiting for me when I get home.”

You kissed her again, not able to help yourself. Possibilities tasted so much better when they were coming true.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #law and order svu

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hcneymooners · 6 months ago

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⋆ arcane but it's a private university au ( for the girls: pt. ii )

ice princess!f!reader x multi. f!characters. men & minors dni.

synopsis: private university!arcane headcanons but it’s really specific bc it’s based on my time at catholic private school except this au is just a private hold the catholic.

cw: this part contains scenarios for jinx, sevika, & ambessa. writing for jinx was actually my favorite portion (ambessa, please forgive me.) suggestive content. notes: i love them so bad. you can find part one here. i didn't include the intro since i did it in the first one! i love you.

jinx : the "bad influence."

୨୧ the two of you met mid-sprint, fleeing a party broken up by the police. it was one of those raw, electric moments where adrenaline surges and strangers become allies in chaos.

୨୧ in the frenzied escape, she tripped, her knees hitting the pavement hard. without hesitation, you yanked her up, kicking away an overzealous officer with surprising precision.

୨୧ all you caught were glimpses: two impossibly long blue braids swinging like a pendulum and wide, heavily-lashed pink eyes that lingered on yours, a strange curiosity etched into their neon stare.

୨୧ your fingers found hers without thinking, and together you ran—your heeled feet stumbling across glitter-streaked concrete littered with shattered glass and discarded red cups.

୨୧ the chase ended in a hole-in-the-wall thai spot, rain pouring in sheets outside. bundled in your oversized vintage fur coat, dark brown and impossibly warm, you glanced at her—soaked, shivering, and unapologetically smug.

୨୧ against every instinct, you shifted, lifting the bulk of your coat to drape over her smaller frame. pressed close, you felt the cold bite of her skin and the cherry tang of her perfume, thick and sharp. her stomach—toned, pale, and adorned with vibrant tattoos—drew your attention as it flexed when she flagged down the waitress.

୨୧ she was so deeply beautiful and so fucking close to you and you’re shivering and wet together.

୨୧ silence settled between you as she grew overly familiar, stealing bites from your plate and feeding you egg rolls with a crooked grin. her nails scraped against your bottom lip, and she laughed when you blinked, stunned, swallowing more than just food.

୨୧ at some point, she leaned in, stealing a sip from your drink, her lips lingering on the rim.

୨୧ you paid.

୨୧ "thanks, ice princess," she murmured as you left. only then did it hit you—she knew you. you must’ve crossed paths on campus, and yet, she felt like a stranger from a different world.

୨୧ she pressed a glossy pink kiss to your cheek, saluted with mock reverence, and vanished into the seedy underbelly of the city.

୨୧ you thought about her for weeks.

୨୧ you didn’t expect to see her again. but days later, there she was on campus, leaning against the vending machine in your dorm building like she belonged there.

୨୧ “ice princess,” she greeted, that crooked grin pulling at her lips. “guess we’re neighbors.”

୨୧ you didn’t know what to say. it was one thing to pull a stranger out of trouble and share a meal in some forgotten corner of the city. it was another to see her here, part of your world, like she’d been there all along.

୨୧ she started showing up more often after that—slipping into your study sessions at the library, tagging along when you grabbed coffee. she was loud and reckless, her laughter echoing off the quiet walls, drawing stares that you pretended not to notice.

୨୧ it wasn’t long before she started pushing you out of your comfort zone. sneaking you into underground parties, dragging you to rooftop hangouts where the city stretched out beneath you, glittering and endless.

୨୧ she made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t realized you were missing.

୨୧ you couldn’t stop staring at her tattoos, the colorful, intricate designs that covered her stomach and arms. one night, without thinking, you reached out to trace a line along her skin.

୨୧ she caught your hand before you could pull back, her fingers curling around yours. “you like ‘em, huh, mama?” she said, her voice low and teasing. your cheeks burned, and you stammered something incoherent, but she only laughed, pressing your palm flat against her stomach. “gonna get one just for you. we can match.”

୨୧ she had a habit of being overly familiar—feeding you bites of her food, letting her fingers linger against your lips as you swallowed. one time, her thumb brushed your bottom lip, and you caught her smirk as she let her teeth graze her fork, slow and deliberate.

୨୧ you knew you were falling for her. it was impossible not to. the way she leaned in close when she talked, her perfume sweet and enticing, her lips always just a little too close. the way she made you feel like the only person in the room, even in a crowd.

୨୧ not everyone saw her the way you did. when someone from your social circle made a snide comment about her, you didn’t hesitate to defend her. “she’s smarter than all of you combined,” you snapped, your voice colder than ice. “and she’s got more heart than you’ll ever understand.”

୨୧ it was after that that she started pulling away. her laughter came less easily, her touch less frequent.

୨୧ “you don’t get it,” she told you one night, her voice brittle. “i’m… broken. you shouldn’t—”

୨୧ “jinx,” you interrupted, your tone firm but gentle. “i’m from a legacy family. and, according to my family, i "choose" to like girls. i’m definitely fucked up. so how could i judge you?”

୨୧ she stared at you for a long moment, her eyes softening, and for the first time, she was at a loss for words.

୨୧ your first kiss wasn’t rushed or reckless. it was quiet, heavy with the weight of everything building between you.

୨୧ you were sitting together on the roof of her sister’s apartment, the city lights stretching out below, and she was looking at you like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

୨୧ “you’re staring,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

୨୧ “yeah,” she said, her grin softer than you’d ever seen it. “so what?”

୨୧ before you could answer, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours like a question. when you didn’t pull away, she kissed you deeper, her hand cupping your jaw, her thumb tracing your cheekbone.

୨୧ she tasted like strawberry chapstick and danger, and you never wanted to let her go. when she finally pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, she smiled.

୨୧ “told you,” she murmured, her voice soft and warm. “you’re stuck with me now.”

୨୧ you smiled back, cheeks aching. "i'm not stuck. i'm right where i want to be." ୨୧ she leaned back, dragging you into her lap. a slender finger dipped into your skirt's waistband and fingered the lace dip of your panties. your breath hitched, and she kissed your throat. "c'mon. lemme hear you, mama."

୨୧ from that moment on, you were hers—completely, irrevocably hers.

p.s you say fuck it, choose her over your fuck ass homophobic family, get disowned, get married, start a million dollar engineering empire, & have isha.

sevika: the older student.

୨୧ you first noticed her in your advanced biochem lab—all sharp angles and calculated movements, her mechanical arm gleaming under fluorescent lights as she measured solutions with military precision.

୨୧ sevika was notorious among grad students: brilliant, ruthless, and absolutely not interested in working with undergrads. which made it particularly unfortunate when professor silco paired you together for the semester's research project.

୨୧ she was older than most students—whispers said she dropped out years ago and came back after “handling some things.” no one was brave enough to ask what that meant, but her reputation kept most people at arm’s length.

୨୧ her expression when your name was called could have curdled milk. you lifted your chin, met her gaze steadily, and pretended your heart wasn't racing.

୨୧ sevika didn’t bother to introduce herself. she just crossed her arms over her broad chest and grumbled, “you’re doing the talking.” her voice was low, almost lazy.

୨୧ "i'm not carrying dead weight," she said at your first session. you noticed a scar bisecting her left eye, the way her jaw clenched when she spoke. "if we're doing this, we do it my way." “thought you said i’d be talking,” you snapped back.

୨୧ 'her way' meant late nights in the lab, your designer clothes traded for practical cotton, hair pulled back from your face. she worked you relentlessly, expecting perfection in every measurement, every calculation. but beneath her harsh exterior, you caught glimpses of something else—the way she'd correct your form without mockery, how she'd appear with coffee when your hands started shaking from exhaustion.

୨୧ it was after one of these late sessions that it happened. you were walking back to your dorm, mind fuzzy with fatigue and feet stumbling, when rough hands grabbed you from behind. before you could scream, a low voice cut through the darkness: "let her go, or i remove your hands permanently."

୨୧ sevika stood there, golden eyes burning in the streetlight, her mechanical arm whirring softly. the would-be mugger took one look at her and ran. you stayed frozen, heart thundering in your chest, until she clicked her tongue in disapproval. “get it together, princess. come on."

୨୧ she led you to an alcove and watched you flutter with delayed panic like a bird, mouth twisted with an unreadable expression. "you need to learn to defend yourself," she said finally. it wasn't a suggestion. you opened your mouth to argue, but she cut you off. “gym. tomorrow. six am. wear something you can actually move in."

୨୧ that's how you found yourself spending your mornings with sevika, learning to throw punches and break holds. she was a harsh teacher, but her hands were surprisingly gentle when correcting your stance. "again," she'd say, and you'd try to ignore how your skin tingled where she touched.

୨୧ soon enough, she started showing up wherever you were—whether it was a coffee shop, the library, or your favorite bench on campus. “just passing through,” she claimed. still, the way she always ended up sitting beside you said otherwise. she knew you were anxious, your body tensing whenever someone passed by. your airpods haven’t been in noise cancellation mode for three weeks.

୨୧ her mechanical arm fascinated you. one day, you asked about it, your curiosity outweighing your hesitation. she shrugged, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smile when you told her you thought it was beautiful.

୨୧ the project evolved, and so did whatever was growing between you. she started letting you help maintain her arm, teaching you the intricate mechanisms. your fingers would brush as you worked, and sometimes she'd let them linger. "careful," she'd murmur, but you were never sure if she meant with the machinery or with her.

୨୧ in these moments, she had a way of looking at you that made your stomach flip—like she was sizing you up, deciding if you’re worth her time.

୨୧ you began to seek her out. the first time you loitered in the parking lot of her condo, fingers twitching nervously as you texted that you stopped by. she opened the door and lounged against the doorway, thick thighs bared by her boxers and skin gleaming from a recent workout. she laughed as you gasped and turned away.

୨୧ “what the fuck, sevika!” “princess, we have the same parts. they probably would feel real nice pushed togeth—“ “SEVIKA.”

୨୧ she pushed you out of your comfort zone in quiet, deliberate ways. you’re dragged to the campus bar, taught how to play pool (and lose), and laughing when you scratch on the break. “you’re hopeless, princess,” she teased, her smirk revealing her perfect gap teeth.

୨୧ her teasing was relentless, and she always called you “princess” and sometimes “baby girl” like it was on your birth certificate. you flushed every time, which only encouraged her.

୨୧ the first time you successfully pinned her during a self-defense session, she actually laughed—a rich, surprised sound that made your heart stutter. "not bad, baby girl,” she said, still beneath you, her organic hand warm on your hip. you became acutely aware of your position, of how close her face was to yours. neither of you moved for a long moment.

୨୧ if you’re becoming way too possessive of her, sue you. you’re the only undergrad who’s smuggled yourself under her wing and you’d like to keep it that way, goddamnit. you were never good at sharing anyway.

୨୧ it came to a head at an afterparty, your eye twitching as you watched some bitch (sorry!) trace her talons across sevika’s waist, which was framed admirably by a dark pair of jeans that were practically painted on.

୨୧ it only took a few seconds for you to stomp across the room and root a hand around her neck, drawing her into a searing kiss. you kissed her like you were trying to draw juice from her lips, moaning as she tugged you in closer.

୨୧ she kissed like she fought—precise, demanding, taking no prisoners. she backed you against the counter, knocking over a bottle of malibu, mechanical hand cool against your hips. “didn’t know you had it in you,” she laughed. “shut up, sevika. my god.” you grabbed her collar, reeled her back in.

୨୧ "you're my special girl,” she'd tell you later, tracing patterns on your skin with metal fingers. “the only one i give a fuck about. no competition.” her voice was bleeding with affection, and you curled into her side. she pressed kisses to your hair and leaned over to set an alarm for the both you—one for her, four for you.

୨୧ it worked, somehow—your refined, gilded edges against her sharp ones. you learned to throw a punch; she learned that you would lock her out if she didn’t allow you to spoil her relentlessly. “princess, i already have a bike.” “keep talking, honey, and i’ll purchase the whole dealership.” “now—“

୨୧ "you're trying to kill me slowly,” she grumbled, watching you charm your way through department gatherings. but she'd be there anyway, a solid presence at your back, her mechanical hand resting possessively at your waist. and when you'd lean into her touch, she'd hide her smile in your hair.

୨୧ if anyone found it strange to see the ice princess curled up in the lap of the most feared grad student on campus, well, one look from sevika's narrowed eyes was enough to silence any commentary.

୨୧ you were a fucking princess, both in real life and in her bed, but fuck you were hers. and sevika protected what was hers.

ambessa medarda : the professor.

୨୧ you first saw her across a dimly lit hotel bar. you were three drinks in, mascara smeared from crying after the worst fight yet with your mother. "disappointing," she'd called you. "ungrateful." all because you refused to date the son of her country club friends.

୨୧ “mommy, please,” you’d sobbed. “i’m not ungrateful. i just don’t love him.” she’d left you with the dial tone.

୨୧ you rubbed a fist across your face like a child, attempting to gather yourself. your phonecall was denied again, and you winced at the tinny voice of your mother’s voicemail, setting it down and turning it off. god, this was the worst thing to happen to you in a long time.

୨୧ with a sigh, you glanced up at the mirror behind the bar. she was looking right back.

୨୧ the woman was striking—white locs swept into an elegant updo, wearing a low-cut red dress that hugged her body tightly. she moved like a lioness, back flexing as she hunkered down over the glossy wood. her golden eyes met yours, and your stomach began to spin. you knew this was the beginning of a dangerous game.

୨୧ after a minute she walked over, hands bearing water instead of another drink. "crying in bars rarely solves anything, little one," she said, her accent rich and heady. when you tried to argue, she simply raised an eyebrow, and you found yourself downing the glass in its entirety.

୨୧ you kept eye contact as you swallowed, tongue peeking out to lap at the remnants along your lips.

୨୧ you don't remember who moved first. but you remember her hands—strong, calloused—gripping your thighs. remember her voice, rough with want, whispering against your neck. remember the way she claimed you, leaving mottled marks you'd find days later.

୨୧ you remember waking up alone in her hotel room, a glass of water and two aspirin on the nightstand. no note. just the lingering scent of her perfume—spiced and earthy—on the sheets.

୨୧ you tried to forget her. tried to forget how she'd called you “sweet girl” when you'd bitten her shoulder, how she'd laughed darkly and pinned your hands above your head, called you “easy” when you sobbed out pitiful demands for her to go harder and faster, do destroy you from the inside out.

୨୧ then came the first day of advanced military history.

୨୧ "good morning, class. i'm professor medarda."

୨୧ your blood ran cold. there she stood—your favorite fantasy, your most well-spent drunken night—looking devastatingly beautiful in a tailored suit. her eyes found yours immediately, and you saw the recognition flash in them, followed by something darker, more primal.

୨୧ you tried to drop the class. she denied your request personally.

୨୧ "running away?" she asked during mandatory office hours, pouring tea from an ornate set. "that's not the fierce girl i remember. you scratched me all up.”

୨୧ your cheeks burned. "professor—"

୨୧ "ambessa," she corrected, sliding the tea across her desk. “i think we’re past the formalities.”

୨୧ you couldn't avoid her. she called on you in class, her voice caressing your name. kept you after lectures to "discuss your work." you told yourself the tension would fade.

୨୧ it didn't.

୨୧ "i need a teaching assistant," she announced one evening, when you'd stayed too late reviewing your paper. "someone sharp. strategic. devoted.” her fingers brushed yours as she took your empty teacup. "interested?"

୨୧ you should have said no. you should have viewed her wolfish grin as a red flag, grabbed your shit, and hauled ass. instead, you heard yourself say, “of course.”

୨୧ being her TA meant late nights in her office, her perfume making you dizzy with memories. meant watching her command rooms full of students while remembering how she'd commanded your body. it meant pretending you couldn't feel her eyes on you, hungry and possessive.

୨୧ "we should establish some boundaries,” you said finally, after weeks of delicious torture.

୨୧ "should we?" she moved like a predator, backing you against her desk. "or should we discuss how you keep shivering when i get too close?"

୨୧ your breath caught. "this is inappropriate."

୨୧ “mmm, entirely," she agreed, one hand sliding into your hair, the other around your neck. “now, tell me to stop."

୨୧ you didn’t.

୨୧ “little minx,” she murmured and you kissed her, surging forward and into her lap.

୨୧ it became your secret—stolen moments in her office after hours, weekends at her apartment where she'd cook elaborate dishes and tear your papers to shreds, nights where she'd make you forget your own name and squeal hers.

୨୧ “good girl” she'd murmur against your skin, switching to noxian when you drove her too far. she ordained you with names that meant something far more possessive and crude in her native tongue.

୨୧ the whole thing made you feel deliciously stained and you sought her out to purify you time and time again. you kept it hidden until graduation. until you had your degree in hand and nothing left to lose.

୨୧ the scandal was delicious—respected professor medarda and her former student, now openly living together. your mother was horrified. society whispered.

୨୧ "regrets?" ambessa asked one morning, watching you sip the spiced coffee you'd grown to love.

୨୧ you thought of that night at the bar, of all the paths that led you here. "never." it turned out some mistakes are worth making twice.

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tojisun · 1 year ago

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doo-be-di-boy — simon (ghost) riley

simon (ghost) riley x fem bimbo!reader

> simon and his unabashed adoration for his princess <33

!! suggestive - minors dni (ratings change but overall, simon’s thirst is unmatched); age gap (30s v 20s); no chronological order (loosely-tied worldbuilding)

: another series i didnt expect to gain traction or for me to actually write so much for!! i adore bimbo!reader, she deserves the world :’>

for all posts, pls click at the bimbo!reader tag <33

part 01 - intro post; smut

part 02 - strawberry shortcake perfume

part 03 - simon sonny; ask

part 04 - his thumb on her lips; ask (p link!); smut

part 05 - reduced to whimpers; ask (p link!); smut

part 06 - boo tomato tomato tomato @fratboy; suggestive

part 07 - christina n kisses; smut

part 08 - instagram account <33

part 09 - trembling hands and crochets

part 10 - his darling petal; ask (p link!); smut

part 11 - do you love me?

part 12 - simmy, penguin, rocks!; ask

part 13 - acrylics and surprises; ask | recent

extra 01 - her hyperfixations; ask

extra 02 - jewels n cuffs; ask

extra 03 - super shy!!

extra 04 - chupi chapa

extra 05 - johnny as her bff; ask

extra 06 - dick grabbers <3; ask

extra 07 - kuromi pillow for u!!; ask

extra 08 - their radio (a ramble); ask

extra 09 - clingy!!; ask

extra 10 - little touches; ask

extra 11 - her little swatching palette; ask

extra 12 - the toughest baby girl; ask | recent

i have a short taglist so pls lmk if you would like to be tagged too ^v^ no more taglist

(updated 30 mar 2024)

#bimbo!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #female reader #cod masterlist #suns #shes here n shes so gorgeouzz #masterlist

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arbitrarykiwi · 1 month ago

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will there be more producer reader x thanos??

i loved the last one so much!😫

LIVE in the Studio

Originally it was planned as a one off…but ask and ye shall receive 🤲🤭 hope you like it nonnie!!!! sorry for the wait 🧎‍♀️

A/N: if you haven’t read the first producer!reader x thanos you can find it here! This can be read as a one off, but is based on the relationship from my previous fic :)

Warnings: smut (18+) , p in v sex , dry humping , oral (f receiving) , doggystyle, creampie , squirting , multiple orgasms , sex while being recorded (audio), dirty talk , may be more read at your own risk

It was so late…you hated yourself for doing this once again. You really needed to separate work from life. Yet here you are- on your scheduled off day- working over the same small snippet of a beat over and over and over.

It’s not even the actual music composition! That would interest you! That’s why you became a producer! It’s the fucking intro. You know…the maybe 3 second clip of the rappers tag or some cheesy line spoken by some girl about how badly they need the rapper of whatever song it’s on.

You know it’s important, all part of the song is. And arguably the intro is the most important, the part that grabs people’s attention and gets them hooked. But since you know that, you’re prepared! You have samples and tracks galore of various women speaking into the mic in a girly, high pitched tone. Each saying different things in different cadences in different languages. You have enough of these sound files to have finished 300 song intros by now!!

That was if your current client was normal. But he wasn’t. Far from it.

“Nah…too boring.” He says, lackadaisically- you can hear the disinterest in his voice. “C’mon señorita…” He dramatically groans, “that’s all you got!? I know you can do so much better.”

You groan, elbows thumping against the desk as you put your head in your hands, palms rubbing at your tired as you suck in a deep breath. “You do realize I took the time out of my day…my off day…to help you with this and you’re being a fuckin’ dick.”

You deadpan, turning away from the computer in your studio. Your eyes are burning and you’re so exhausted. You have no idea why you agreed to do this.

But when you turn completely, making eye contact with the hazy eyed, every cocky grin of the late night client. A smile breaks through the annoyed frown.

“You’re complaining but yet, you answered my text, you unlocked the studio, and here you are 3 hours later working your magic….all for me.” Thanos grins, leaning forward on the couch and resting his elbows on his knees.

A blunt hangs lazily from his hands, his purple hair is a mess- sticking up in every which way. He makes a show of looking younger you over, drinking you in like the finest wine he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

“You love me! Don’t deny it. That’s why you answered and let me in so late. You jus’ love spendin’ time with Thanos.”

You cringe at him referring to himself by his own stage name. You’ve known him for so long, he’s Choi Subong to you. You were making beats for him since before he even had his stage name!

“I let you in and answered you because you said all you needed was a simple intro for a song you already had written…” you say, scooting your desk chair across the floor, closer to him. “But that’s not what we’re dealing with here…now is it?”

You lean in, matching his position- elbows resting on your knees. Your face is inches from his, as you speak he is overwhelmed by your perfume.

And hes but a man! When you lean forward hes graced with the perfect tease of your cleavage, tits very obviously not contained by a bra- evident by the visual of your nipples poking against the shirt you wore. He wants to make a comment, one that will make your thighs rub together like they did that one night…

The night he’s thought about over and over since it’s happened. Hell, he’s fisted his dick raw remembering the way your cunt felt wrapped around him. Neither of you mentioned it though. You two went about your normal routine, sure you both flirted a bit more than usual but neither of you brought up the night he fucked you stupid while you were both tripping.

While he’s distracted, you yank the blunt from his fingers and glare at him- it has no real mirth behind it. You take a long drag, the weed relaxing your body and wrapping your mind in a warm silken feeling that makes the late night in the studio a little more tolerable.

“I have gone through all the files I have, Subong-“

“Thanos.”

You roll your eyes and playfully huff, “Okay…Thanos” you emphasize his stage name in a tone that has him shifting in the couch, legs spreading to ease the uncomfortable feeling in his pants. “I’ve gone through all the fucking files. You liked none of them. What the fuck do you want for this intro?!”

“I mean seriously, I’ve gone through every possible option and even edited the ones I have to fit whatever image you had in your head for this, it’s been hours and we have nothing. Not even an idea of what you want for this.” You say, scooting your chair back and turning to face the computer once again. Your fingers work against the keyboard, blunt loosely hanging from your lips.

He wants to hear you, he does…but the way you’re rambling about your practice with an enthusiasm that almost seems engraved into your bones and mixed within your blood- he thinks it’s the prettiest you’ve ever looked.

His body moves on its own. He stands from the couch and walks across the studio. Once behind your chair he stills. Thanos smirks, planting his hands on the desk on either side of you, effectively caging you into your seat. He leans down, his head resting on the back of the chair to your left. He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fan your cheek.

“I dunno what ya’ want me to say sweets…none of them are what I’m looking for. None of them fit.” His voice is low and gravely, flowing through your ears and filling your mind with static. “And you’re gonna tell me I’m wrong? I think you know just as well as I do that none of those are exactly what I need.” He says, lifting a hand up to point a finger at the monitor open to a file of audio snippets.

You sigh, as much as you hated it, he’s right. Not one of the hundreds of clips you have fit the song. Sure the work. But they aren’t perfect. “Okay fine. What do we do then? It’s 3am I can’t call up anyone else to come record some voice line for an intro.” You respond, turning your head to look at him the best you could.

He turns his head, mirroring your movement, a devious grin on his lips. The low light of the music studio and the blue hue of the computer’s monitor makes it to where you can almost see your own reflection in his pupils. Blue eyes, pupils blown so big you can only see a sliver of iris, dart from your eyes to your lips.

It takes everything in him not to jump on you then and there, looking up at him from your chair oh so expectantly, lips slightly parted as if you were just waiting for him to kiss you. You were- but you would never admit that to yourself, let alone him. Images of your plush lips wrapped around his cock dance in his mind like his own personal porn video.

“You’ll have to do it then.”

His words make you come out of whatever trance you were in. “W-what? No i’m not….” You look to your computer, the trinkets on your desk, really anywhere but him. “You don’t want me to do that…I won’t sound good. I don’t have the voice like those girls-“

“Bullshit”

You pause, turning your chair more to face him. Thanos is stood tall now, stepping to the side to look you directly in the face, arms crossed.

“Thanos…be serious you don’t want me to do the intro. I don’t have that…” you trailed off, hands waving in the air as you try to find your words, “that whiny, needy, breathy tone you’re looking for here.”

He scoffs at your words, looking at you as if you just tried to argue that the sky was red. “You sure had that tone when I was balls deep in you the other week.”

Your eyes widen, face flushing as the unspoken night of intimacy was brought up. The redder your face becomes and the wider your eyes get as you try to find your words has his grin growing into something sadistic- like he’s finding joy in your embarrassment (he is).

“F-fucking hell…” you choke out, trying to sound indignant. “You’re unbelievable…” you grumble, crossing your arms and scowling at him.

“Yeah, yeah…” Thanos says brushing you off, eyes rolling nearly to the back of his skull. Tattooed hands grip the back of your desk chair and spin you back forward, facing the microphone that sits on your desk, pop filter inches from your nose. “I’m unbelievable, annoying, making you work on your off day…blah blah.”

As he speaks he puts your headphones on your ears and leans over you, hand on your keyboard and mouse as he begins to set up to record. “Why don’t you….” He begins in a singsong voice, “give me what I want and then you’ll be free to go back home and sleep…” He clicks record.

“Spending all this time complaining when ya could have just gone and done the damn thing already and I would have been out of your hair…” A finger finds itself twirling a strand of your hair as he speaks.

You can feel your heart thumping in your chest, his cologne is all you can smell. Drawing in a shuddering breath you look blankly at the filter in front of you, thighs pressing together to ease an ache you didn’t realize had began to bloom. “What the fuck do you want me to say?”

He shrugs, “give me somethin’ like…” He hums to himself and smirks, “‘Thanos it’s so hard~’” he mocks a female voice, voice cracking as he moans out the words. You can’t help but laugh, your own giggle echoing out through the speakers. The sound dies down when you realize that it’s now your turn to do something, give him the intro he wants.

Your eyes flutter shut drawing in a breath as you lean forward closer to the microphone. “Thanos~” You draw out the name with a wanton purr, you might as well do it right if you’re gonna do it, “…it’s so hard.”

You sit back, opening your eyes and spinning your chair around to look at the purple haired rapper behind you. “That work?? Can I go back to bed now?” You ask. Trying to do anything to end this torment you’ve been put through.

Your eyes look over him from bottom to top, catching the very obvious tent in his pants and the was his cheeks are flushed. “Are you seriously hard right now?! From that?!” You say, trying your best to sound mad but admittedly the visual is making your mouth water.

He shakes his head ‘no’, that’s the only reaction you get. “W-what?!” You babble out, it’s cute, he thinks. “You do it then!!” You say, glaring at him like it would do anything.

He makes his way across the studio in two long strides. Large hands grip the back of the chair and tug it to the side. You assume he’s gonna sit down and direct you to what he wants, that would be easy. But no, when you stand up out of the desk chair, offering it to him, he pushes it out of the way completely.

With practiced effort and in quick succession- he moves. He’s pressing himself behind you, one hand gripping your shoulder and pushing you forward. You hate how pliant you are under his touch, immediately folding forward with his light push and landing chest first on the desk.

You lift your chest up the slightest bit to look behind you. You’re trying to catch his eye to glare at him with feigned anger but his gaze is trained downward. His hand that’s not outstretched to your shoulder is pushing up your shirt, fingers dancing over the dimples in your back before going lower to feel over the globes of your ass.

“You didn’t need a f-fucking intro you just wanted to get your dick wet- ohhh fuccckkk” your sentence is cut short when Thanos, the ever confident man he was, grinds into you. He’s not teasing with it, no, he’s pressing his clothed bulge in between your ass cheeks and making sure he catches the zipper of his jeans just right on your cunt. His hips roll slow and steady, pressing into you as if he’s trying to fuck you through the layers of clothes between you two.

“Oh yeah! Seeeeee~ That’s perfect!” He chuckles out, hand crossed over your back and gripping the plush fat of your hips. “Somethin’ jus’ like that…” he says, the octave of his voice dropping. The hand of on your shoulder moves, reaching further over you to grab the microphone and move it in front of you. “Let’s see if we can get you to do something like that again….gotta get the perfect take, huh?”

You bite your lip, eyes already threatening to roll back into your head as you feel the thick imprint of his cock grind into your shorts. A muffled moan is caught in your throat as the fabric of your underwear and shorts, pushed by his cock, rocks into your clit in the most delicious way.

“Awh c’mon…” Thanos whines, you can practically hear the pout on his face without even turning back to look at him, “don’t hide all your noises now…don’t you wanna finish this up quick and get back to bed?” He teases, leaning over you so his lips ghost along the shell of your ear.

You sigh out, the feeling of him trapping you against the desk, pushing his clothed cock harder against the now soaked fabric of your shorts has your mind hazy, all notions of being bratty and talking back are swept from your mind and replaced with the long suppressed need you had for the egotistical rapper.

Painted nails dig into your hips, both of his hands finding purchase on the plush skin. He pulls himself back up to a standing position, eyes turned downward to look at the way your ass is pressed against him, his fingers digging to the the flesh that spills over the waistband of your shorts. A low, animalistic growl reverberates within his throat has he keeps the steady rhythm of rocking you back against him.

Suddenly the feeling of his cock pressing into your covered entrance is gone. His hands remain on your hips, slowly dragging downward to splay his palms across your ass. When you crane your neck backwards you can’t even stop the wanton moan that falls from your lips.

Thanos is on his knees, hands gripping at your ass cheeks and pushing upwards, spreading you open for him. His face is so close to your clothed cunt, eyes right in line with the large darkened area of your shorts you know is there. “Fuckin’ messy thing….” He mumbles in an awestruck, breathless tone. One hand pulls away from your ass to trace a finger down the emphasized crease of your pussy in your shorts.

You keen, hands clawing at the desk as a shaky, soft moan rolls off your tongue, hips moving on their own and pushing back into his hand. “Seee~” He coos, “I knew she missed me…soaked right through these shorts…” as he speaks his fingertips slide under the hem of the shorts that fall on your ass. He pulls at both sides of the fabric, exposing more of your ass to him. His eyes are fixated at the imprint of your cunt that is so very visible, the fabric of your shorts impossibly soaked.

One of his hands drops from your ass, fingers coming up to ghost around the silhouette of your clit in tight circles. “Mmmphf fuck…” you let out after a shaky exhale, knees nearly buckling from the stimulation. Your head snaps back forward, forehead falling to the desk. Thanos chuckles, he’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cunt.

“Hmmm…” he says, as if he’s thinking over the answer to life, “not quite what I’m looking for….need something more.” He teases, like it’s even for the intro at this point.

“Y-you gotta give me m-more.” You’re spitting out, trying to sound some kind of authoritative. You weakly lifting your head off the desk to look back at him and if you were in any other situation, the mocking look he gives you would have nearly made you kick him out but at this point….fuck he looks so good.

“Ohhooo…look at you tryna’ be all bossy and dominant.” Thanos laughs in your face, eyes trained on you like a hawk. He nods his head to the side, motioning to your pussy, “not really workin’ when you’ve soaked through your shorts like some teen seeing her favorite boyband.” He pulls at the fabric of your shorts, gripping the middle of them with one hand, fingers looping through both leg holes. He pulls up, dragging the seam of your shorts right against your aching clit.

Your back arches, hips pressing back searching for any kind of stimulation, a broken whine of his name ripping through your chest. “That’s more like it….” His hand slides lower, back of his hand pressing against your cunt, “tell me what ya want sweets, I’ll give it to ya’, you know I will…jus’ gotta ask.” He practically purrs out, adjusting his grip on your shorts to slip his fingers under your panties as well, gripping both of the garments in his hand, face moving impossibly closer, his breath fanning your cunt.

Your mind spins, fighting to have some decorum and to list all the things you wanted him to do to you like a mile long check list. Lust wins over in the end and you suck in a shaking breath, “N-need your tongue, fuck, please…” you whine, pressing your hips back, searching for his face. His grin widens, just thinking of the way that would sound being played back.

His hand pulls the fabric of your shorts and panties to the side, letting out a low moan of his own when he’s inches away from your glistening cunt, puffy and leaking for him. “I’ve been thinking bout this cunt every fucking night since you let me fuck…” Thanos drawls out, free hand reaching up to trace a line up and down your cunt, collecting your arousal on his fingers.

“You’re fucking dripping, haven’t even touched you….dry humping gets you going that bad, huh?”

You mewl, scratching at the wood of your desk, trying to have some restraint not to push yourself back onto his fingers. It would be so easy to sink the long digits into your cunt.

“Just fucking do something!” You cry out, getting impatient. The need you felt in your lower stomach was becoming unbearable.

He laughs, a sound that soon becomes muffled as his mouth engulfs your pussy. Your eyes are rolling back, a sound akin to a mewl falling from your lips.

Messy as ever, he eats you like he would never get the chance to eat your cunt again. His tongue lathes over the entirety of your cunt, rolling between your puffy folds like he’s mapping you with his tongue. He’s shameless, moaning and groaning into your pussy as he slurps down everything you have to offer him.

“Sweetest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever tasted.” His words are muffled against your pussy, lips tickling you with every word. “So pretty too…” he muses, pulling back to admire your pussy, one of his thumbs pulling apart your lips, spreading you open. He watches as you clench desperately around nothing, the visual making him feral.

He’s back on you, lips wrapping around your throbbing clit and sucking. His tongue rolls over the bud, flicking against the bundle of nerves. Your hips jerk back, a wanton cry of his name falling from your lips.

“Yeah….” Thanos groans, a hand coming down in a sharp slap against your ass, the flesh recoiling against his palm, “ride my fuckin’ face, baby. Take what ya’ need.” He hisses through clenched teeth, hands moving to the sides of your hips to guide your hips up and down.

He lolls his tongue out, grinding you against it and swallowing down every drop of your syrupy arousal. When you begin to move on your own he drops his hands completely. He’s so good, you can’t help but chase the pleasure he offers.

Your hips move viciously, dragging your pussy along his tongue and nose. He shifts slightly, moving his tongue to circle your entrance. “Oh fuck, please!!” You cry out, hips jolting downward to spear yourself on his tongue.

He lets you, moaning into your cunt when your velvety walls close around his tongue, completely engulfing him with your taste. You have to still for a moment, catching your breath in a needy cry as you feel the pink muscle lick around your insides.

A hand comes down on your ass again, encouraging you to move again. You whine, moving your hips, lifting yourself up and down his tongue as he kneels below you. You can feel his blissed out grin, he’s practically in heaven- tasting your sweet cunt while your ass bounces against his face.

His tongue lathes against your clenching walls, echoed by obscene slurps. The only thing louder than him devouring your cunt is you moaning, crying out mixes of praises and his name.

Thanos wants nothing more than to continue eating you out. But as much as a front he puts on….he’s an impatient man. His cock is aching and straining against his jeans. He’s certain if he keeps this up he could blow his load in his jeans as he’s kneeling below you.

He pulls away in a mess of saliva and your wetness. You turn back over your shoulder, whining at the loss of contact. “Easy, baby…” he chuckles as he stands up. One hand splays over your back, running down the curve of your spine as the other one works hastily to undo the button of his pants, “imma give you what you need…”

He lets out a hiss as his cock is finally freed from its confines. It falls out hot and heavy, resting against the curve of your ass with an audible ‘plap’. Just the weight of it on your ass has you moaning and pushing back onto him desperately.

Thanos grabs the base of his dick with one hand, dragging the thick cock-head up and down your weeping cunt. Everytime the head of his cock catches your clit, your knees buckle and a whimper falls from your lips.

“Been thinking about this…your cunt squeezing me…” he muses, pressing the tip into your entrance. You barely have time to moan before he’s pulling back out. “Never had a fuck like you…hadn’t fucked anyone since you..”

The admittance makes your heart swell in the oddest way. You know he’s a player- he has a new girl around his arm every day. But since the time you fucked weeks ago, bordering on a month now, he’s not seen anyone else.

“H-hah…please put it in…f-fuck don’t tease.” You plead, turning around to look at him with wide doe eyes.

“When you ask like that how could I deny you, sweet girl?”

When he pushes into you, it’s a stretch that has you arching your back and rolling your eyes back. You know you’ve left claw marks in your studio desk by now.

“So f-fucking right…Pussy was made f’me.” His words hardly register as he continues to bottom out. With a final surge, he’s sinking balls deep into you.

Both of you let out moans, a sinful harmony that is soon over taken by wet squelching sounds. You feel so entirely full. You swear you can feel him in your throat.

“O-oh my fuck-“ your words are cut off in a choked sound as with a slow pull of his hips, his cock is pulling out of you. He pulls out only half way before driving back into your warmth.

“G-gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” His words are a low growl, his hands dig into the far of your hips, eyes fixated on how the flesh spills through his fingers.

A purr of his name rolls off your lips as he begins the rhythmic thrust of his hips. He drives his pelvis flush against your ass with each thrust, making sure he sheathed himself fully in the heaven that was your cunt.

He’s rutheless, driving you back to meet his thrusts. “F-fuck!” You cry, head turning heavenward, eyes screwing shut in overwhelming pleasure. “O-oh s-shit! F-feels so fucking good!” Your words are pathetic, weak syllables that are broken by the rough drive of his cock into your pussy.

“Takin me so well. Fuck…you should see how stretched you are.” Thanos huffs, pulling harder at the fabric of your shorts and panties to pull them further to the side, giving him a better view of the mess he’s making of your cunt. “Pretty little pussy’s taking me so so fucking well.” He’s repeating like a mantra with every thrust.

Your mind has become hazy, the head of his cock bullies itself against your g-spot every single time he thrusts back into you. You need more. His thrusts speed up, becoming violent. It’s a deliberate, delicious pace that is mind numbing. Your thighs are a mess with your arousal coating them, anytime you tip your head down to look between your thighs you’re met with a creamy mess that only becomes larger by the passing second.

“I-it’s too much!” You whine out, syllables broken up by choked moans. Wet squelches fill the room, echoed by slapping of skin. He laughs, low and sadistic, his hands raise up, holding themselves in the air as if he’s at gunpoint. “It’s too much?!” He mocks, “you’re the one fucking yourself back on my cock, sweetheart. ‘S alllll you.”

His words make you realize he’s right, your hips are moving on their own, brutally slamming back into his pelvis before drawing forward so just the bulbous tip of his cock rests inside your wet walls before repeating the motion again and again. He’s completely still.

It is too much, every time your hips thrust backwards your body is locked up with spasms of pleasure that has tears pooling in your eyes. But you can’t stop, it feels so fucking good. Every time you sink all the way back onto him, your cunt is stretched so wide to take all of him in. His cock reaches depths you would never be able to reach yourself, bullying its way through your clenching walls to kiss against your cervix.

“H-holy fuck, feels so fucking good~” you cry out, body falling slack against the desk. Your hips slow, your muscles aching.

“Ahh, princess work herself up too much? All tired…” He hums, hands lowering back down to run over your sides before settling on your waist. “Need Thanos to help you out, huh?”

You nod, already fucked too dumb to care about talking back. “Yes! Yes please!” You cry out, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. “Fuck I-i need it…T-Thanos please, want you so fucking bad.” You sob out, begging for your release that you can feel blooming deep within your core.

The cat like grin stretches so far across his face it almost seems inhuman. He can just hear how that little sentence of yours would sound at the beginning of the rap song right before the beat kicks in. That’s exactly what he was looking for.

“Mhm I know you do…fuckin’ squeezing me so hard.” Thanos muses with a nod of his head, chin tucked downward so he can watch everytime his cock slips out of your cunt, glistening in your syrupy arousal and every time he thrusts back forward, he watches with a salivating mouth, the white creamy ring that forms at the base of his cock- getting messier with each erratic thrust. “Creamin’ all over my fuckin’ cock…so messy”

You whine, his words making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. His fingernails grip crescent moon shapes into your flesh, using the leverage to bring your hips back to meat each one of his devious thrusts.

Your head is peeled off the desk by a large hand threading into your hair. “You gonna cum? I can feel it, you’re close, just suckin me in anytime I pull out.” Thanos lips dance along the shell of your ear, rough voice filling your mind with fuzz. As if to prove his point, each time he draws back his hips, far enough to rest just the head of his cock in your cunt, you can hear a lewd sound, something between a squelch and a pop coming from your cunt.

“I wanna cum, please, fuck, ohmygod.” It’s shameful, really, he already has you begging for a release without even asking you. “Yeah? Wanna cum pretty girl?” He laughs into your ear. “Begging without being asked…well aren’t you bein’ so good f’me.” He praises. As he speaks the hand in your hair moves across your sternum, pulling you flush against his chest.

The angle drives him deeper into you, stretching you out in ways that have you seeing stars. His thrusts are unforgiving, animalistic even. It’s so sloppy. You can hear the droplets of your mixed arousal fall out of your cunt and onto the tile floor of your studio with a sick wet ‘splat’. “Mhm!! Mhm!! Please!! Ohmygod I’m so fuckin’ close, right there!” You moan out, rushed and babbled, your head kicking back to rest against his shoulder.

His other hand snakes down your stomach, tattooed fingers splayed against your skin as he works his way down. Like he mapped your body out with years of studying and exploring, his fingers find your clit. It’s a sensation that makes you nearly fall to the ground.

“That’s it’s….Thanos’ got you, wan’ you to cream all over my cock pretty girl, make a fuckin mess.” His fingers work your clit in circles in time to his thrusts, it doesn’t take long till your orgasm crashes over you, hitting you so violently you have no time to even prepare. “Oh fucking shit! Yesyesyesyes!!”

Your cries echo out through the studio, one of your hands reaches behind you to grip at his purple hair at the back of his head, trying to ground yourself, you almost think you’re going to pass out.

He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, never letting up and stringing out your high. It’s almost like you’re hit with a second wave, your orgasm gushes out of you- clear liquid spraying on the floor and onto Thanos’ thighs.

“Oh there we fuckin’ go!!” He chides out like he won the fucking lottery, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Knew you could squirt again f’me. Always so fuckin’ messy. God I love it.” Thanos growls, hips slapping against your ass with reckless abandon.

“Gonna fuckin’ cum so deep in this cunt.” He growls in your ear, “been dreamin’ of it since last time.”

His words make you whimper, eyebrows upturning as you pass the point of fucked dumb, you’re being fucked into another dimension. “Yeah, I know you want it too. Want me to fuckin’ fill you up, hm? T-tell me you want it.”

His voice begins to waver, teeth gritting as he holds off, wanting to hear you say it. You sob out, tears wetting your eyelashes as you feel yet another orgasm begin to bloom, one after the other, giving you hardly anytime to catch your breath.

“Yes! Want it so f-fucking bad! N-need to f-feel it!” Your words are jostled with each of his thrusts, coming out in pathetic hiccups as you weakly move your hips back in time with his thrusts.

You feel his body lock up behind you, his arms tightening around you- pinning to him. When you feel the thick spurts of his cum paint your insides, you’re cumming again, eyes rolling back and body convulsing against him.

“Thatssss it…” he growls behind you, hips jerking up into you sporadically, fucking his cum back into you. There’s so much you can feel the thick, warm globs be forced out of you with each thrust of his cock back into your raw pussy. “So f-fucking good. B-best fuckin pussy.” He’s babbling out obscenities, words slurred as he works himself through his own orgasm.

He stills, chest heaving, arms staying tight around you as if he was afraid you’d leave. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, you were still trapped against the desk.

“I think we got what we needed, pretty girl…” he muses, “did so good f’me..”

You hum happily, blissed out. You can still feel the dull stretch of his softening cock in your cunt. An almost comforting fullness. Your hands picking up off the desk to lay on top of his, fingers interlacing.

“I know exactly what sound clip I’m using” He huffs, nose nuzzling along the column of your throat. You can hear him draw in a sharp breath, inhaling your scent.

“Mhm….” You mumble, fucked out of your mind, hardly paying attention. Your eyes and body are tired, you’re sure if Thanos wasn’t still holding you up, you’d fall down to the ground with how weak your knees were. “Use whatever one you want…’m so fucking exhausted…” you sigh, head lolling back against his shoulder.

That was a mistake on your part. Those words. ‘Whatever one you want’ because sure as shit when you send Thanos the finished file, not even listening to the part at the beginning he mixed and added whatever intro he desired from your little recording session, when the song drops your moans are being streamed left, right and center.

It’s not just a noise in the background to emphasize a high hat or a snare, no, it’s so very obviously you getting railed by him, moaning out a ‘fuck Thanos! You’re so good with your tongue’. Your words are even broken up by pants and whines!!!

That’s the last time you let him have any say in what you produce for him.

I reallly hope you guys like this one! This is kinda my first big ask I’ve answered since I’ve been back (besides my sub! Namgyu x thanos x reader fic) so I’m a lil nervy to put this out. This one was started like two days ago because I’ve been thinking about this ask (it’s been in my inbox for a hot minute I’m so sorry) and I just HAD to do it. I love me some producer!reader x thanos. It was so fun to write the first one and this one!

Thank you for your support as always !! - <3 kiwi

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