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danibee33 · 2 days
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Part III of undercover!Ghost 🩶
ghost x reader (callsign: Hela)
word count : 4.7k
>>> [PT 1] [PT2]
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You aren’t avoiding Ghost. Not really..
Ok, maybe you are.
The week since the undercover mission had been busier than usual, so it’s not like you don’t have an excuse for your absence- you did have other duties and responsibilities to attend to collaterally to the one-four-one. But were you using said collaterals to possibly steer clear of a certain person..? Well, that’s not important.
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“Been awhile, lil’ LT..”
You return Soap’s grin, looking up at him as you both take tentative steps- him reaching out first, and you deflecting,
“D’ya miss me that much, sergeant?” You say, eyes skimming his form, looking for any weakness in it, waiting for the right opening.
It wasn’t a planned meet up, you just needed something to do- you’ve been so restless lately, like no matter what you do, it’s never quite enough to stem the relentless flow of thoughts. Which is how you found yourself on the sparring mats opposite the equally restless man at such an ungodly hour.
“Always miss ye, hen..” Soap grunts just before lunging for you, attempting to swipe your leg but inadvertently opening himself up for you to get your arms and legs wrapped around torso- using your body weight to bring him to his knees,
“Steamin’ Jesus, lil LT- worse than a fuckin’-”
Whatever insults he might’ve tried to spew are cut off when you suddenly readjust, but he recovers quicker than you expect- lifting up and bringing you along with him,
“If ye wanted to cuddle, ye could’a just said so..” Soap says, that flirty little lilt at the edge of his words, the same one you’ve heard him use at the bar a hundred times now. And the lopsided smirk on his lips is all too familiar as he tightens his grip around your waist–
God, he’s such a fuckboy…
With a breathless groan, you switch your hold again, crossing your arm over his face in order to put distance between you while still keeping him mostly trapped,
“Shut it, MacTavish. I’m still winning, aren’t I?”
You go back and forth like this until you’re both struggling to breathe and your muscles begin to quiver with fatigue- throwing jokes and jabs easily. It had always been effortless to talk with Soap, banter with him came naturally, but you think it’s only because you two are alike in that way. Never at a loss for words to fill a silence.
And by the time you’re both thoroughly exhausted, all sweat and panting breaths as you stick uncomfortably to the mat, does he roll to his feet, brushing his hair back in the same motion,
“Always a pleasure, ma’am.” He grins, dwarfing your hand in his own as he tugs you up, “And we’re, uh, we’re goin’ out tomorrow night- or well, tonight, I s’pose.” he fumbles over his words in that adorable way he does sometimes, like a schoolboy with a crush on his teacher, “If ye’d like to come.. I can have LT text ye the details.”
At the mention of Simon, you feel the very tips of your ears begin to burn. The sergeant’s prompt too quickly bringing back all the thoughts and memories you had been trying to purge yourself of by coming here,
“Um.. Sure. No promises, though. It’s been busy, ya know..” You say, fighting to keep your tone flippant and casual- but John MacTavish is more keen than you might have given him credit for.
He walks by your side out of the gym, obviously searching for the right way to bring it up, until finally it’s almost like you can feel his own curiosity win over his better judgment,
“Ma’am.. Did somethin’ happen? On the last mission?” The next few seconds are filled with him trying, and somewhat failing but it’s amusing nonetheless, to explain why he’s asking- mostly due to your unusual absences since returning that night. The way you’ve been avoiding the entire team in favor of doing paperwork in your office-
Which you never did because you said you hated being back there on your own.
No, you always preferred to take care of those things in the common spaces, where the chances of having company were always high.
“Was it seein’ LT’s mug? I ken that’s always a bit of a shock for first timers, but-”
“What?” You interject, eyebrows raised in surprise, “No.. no, it has nothing to do with that..”
Well, that’s also not entirely true, is it? But you don’t think it’s for the reasons Soap’s imagining.. It’s more about the fact that everytime you even catch a glimpse of the giant man, you’re reminded of how handsome he was on his knees in front of you, how big his hands felt over your thighs, how his tongue-
“Well, just think ‘bout joinin’ us, won’t ye?”
The sheer amount of hope in Johnny’s voice pulls you out of your reverie, replacing the memory of amber eyes with bright cerulean ones, and that signature fucking smirk,
“Fine! Just chill out with the puppy dog eyes, MacTavish.. Begging like a damn dog.” You concede, waving him away and turning toward your hall without waiting for his reaction. But he doesn’t let you get far before you hear his chuckle, husky and chocked full of guile, bounce off the concrete walls,
“Woof, woof, lil LT..”
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Ghost doesn’t like new places.
He doesn’t like being unfamiliar with his surroundings, because he spends too much fucking time being unfamiliar in nearly every surrounding he’s sent to. He doesn’t like leaving things up to chance, doesn’t like how much more stress accumulates around his shoulders and neck- it annoys him, the ache.
But Johnny and Gaz had just been so damn adamant about trying out a new pub. One on the opposite end of town, and he can admit it’s nicer than their usual hole in the wall, but still.
Ghost doesn’t like new places.
Well, that was until he caught sight of you. And then he found himself slightly more drawn to the low lighting that danced over your skin, the way it glowed in your eyes as your survey the bar-
“Hel’s ‘ere?” He asks, downing the last nip of bourbon in his cup.
Johnny’s head whips up then, spotting you in an instant- and there’s something about his response that causes Simon’s gaze to narrow at the shorter man. It’s too… giddy, too reverent for his liking.
“Aye! Invited her the other night.”
That ache in his neck returns but somehow significantly worse.
The other night? You had been with Johnny the other night? When this entire fucking week he hadn’t been able to get three fucking seconds alone with you-
Ok, no, he hadn’t worked up to trying to just call or text, that felt too impersonal. He was shit at all that anyway, he needs to see your body language, needs to analyze all the little expressions that give away so much more than words do. But you had somehow found a way to beat him at his own game. You turned into a ghost, only ever catching your silhouette from the corner of his eye, hearing your voice but never being quick enough to be within a few meters of you.
And possibly the worst was when he would enter a room you had been recently in, the smell of you permeating the air, causing his heart to stutter just so with every deep breath.
Fucking hell..
But here you are. And at Johnny’s request, no less.
Ghost despises new places.
Yet, he does think he could learn to like the overly enthusiastic beat of the music when he sees your hips sway to the rhythm as you wait for your drink. You’re in tight jeans and a black leather jacket that fits your figure like a goddamn glove- and he swears he can feel the silk of your skin by just memory alone, the curves of your body already etched into his mind.
“Gonna get a refill.” He grunts, already walking away from the table with the empty glass in hand.
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The sound of a cup being sat on the bartop snaps you back to the present, followed by a heady rush of chills when you hear the baritone of Simon’s voice far closer to your ear than you expect,
“So, she lives.”
You let out a small breath, turning to find the burly breadth of his chest taking up nearly your entire field of view- clad in black from head to toe, which doesn’t surprise you one bit, but it’s not his usual hoodie and jacket. No, this time he’s in a black henley that fits more like a second skin, the fabric deliciously stretched over his pecs and shoulders, the top button left open to give you just a peek at the silver chain glinting underneath and… is that a tattoo?
“She does..” You say, meeting his eyes.
And you really should know better, with too many of your nights haunted by the deep amber of his irises- but the instant it happens, it’s like you’re back in that damned office all over again. The music grows faint, and the people around you turn into little more than blurs at the edge of your vision. He’s all you can feel, the heat of him, the intensity behind his gaze, the way his head tilts softly to the side, studying you as if he might be recommitting your features to memory- not that he needs to.
Because you’ve haunted him just as much. You’ve been the bane of his existence this last week, and somehow the only thing he can see when he shuts his eyes. The sole focus of his loathing and his desire-
“Ma’am, your whiskey sour-” The bartender announces from behind you, effectively breaking the spell you’ve been so wrapped up in right before you hear another small clink, “and a bourbon, neat.”
Without hesitation, Simon leans closer, big arm reaching around you to pull his glass from the bartop and the black surgical mask covering his mouth and nose down in the same motion. He keeps that same heavy gaze on you, your own eyes growing wider at the sight of his face, his crooked nose and scarred lip. You watch him take a short sip, but just as quick as it happened, his mask is back in place, and he’s stepping back,
“C’mon. Table’s over ‘ere.”
You’re not sure you’ve ever felt whiplash quite like seeing Ghost turn his back on you, easily carving a path through the patrons that fill the space-
But you are damn sure the infuriating Brit isn’t going to get the last word in this.
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Ghost can feel your stare, feel how it’s directed right at the back of his skull. A perfect kill shot if he were a betting man. But he can also hear the quiet click of your boots following after him, the tightness in his jeans growing more noticeable with every step-
Fuck.
“Lil’ LT! Glad ye’ could make it out!” Johnny shouts over the crowd, blue eyes cast in mischief and that open sort of admiration that Ghost is sure the man couldn’t hide even if he tried.
You round the table, looking up at the Scot with a devastating smile on your lips before nudging his shoulder with your own,
“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure your ego wasn’t too damaged after kicking your ass this morning, sergeant.”
“Ach! -”
Ghost can hear Johnny sputtering on and on in that terrible mashup of English and Scottish slang that’s always grated on the lieutenant’s ears- but whatever he’s saying doesn’t quite register. Instead, he can only really hear the way your laugh brightens the dim room, see the way your head tips back as you take another sip of your drink.
And it’s only then he realizes that he just wishes you would look at him like that. Wishes that he could draw the melodious sound from you, that he could be the reason you smile so brightly-
“Well, well, well-” the group looks over to see Gaz and Price meandering through the throng of bodies, the younger man with outstretched arms, “Hela! Thought you’d up and left our sorry arses!”
All Simon can do is grit his teeth as Gaz embraces you in a quick side hug, Price close behind with a warm grin even on his bearded face,
“And miss out on all the fun? You know me better than that, Garrick.” You say, raising your glass to the Captain in greeting.
So, no, Ghost doesn’t like new places.
But he can’t deny that as the next hour passes he’s smiled more than a few times at his team’s antics. And he certainly can’t say that he hasn’t missed the way you bring them all a little closer, your bubbly brand of forwardness allowing them to each get out of their heads, even if just for a little while.
“What’s this about you handin’ MacTavish's arse to him?” Price’s voice booms over the music, which has only seemed to get louder the later it gets-
Ghost watches you down the rest of your whiskey sour without so much as a flinch, your cheeks flushed such a pretty pink from the alcohol,
“I mean, is that really a surprise?” You shoot back, the man in question all but slamming his glass down on the table in rebuttal-
“Ooh- yer arse is oot the windae! I want a rematch!” Johnny’s words slur together just enough to give away how good he’s really feeling, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “Watcha say, lil LT? And this time we’ll have a proper judge, right Cap? No cheatin’-”
It really isn’t fair how you lean into him as you chuckle, that ache in Simon’s neck creeping up again at the sight.
Christ alive, why can’t he just get it together? Why does he care? You’ve never been one to shy away from physical touch… but fuck all if it doesn’t eat at him.
“Oi, who wants another round?” Gaz, thankfully interjects, drawing everyone’s attention with a collective and resounding sound off.
The others waltz away through the crowd in the direction of the bar, everyone but you- standing across from Ghost at the table, toying with the toothpick in your glass,
"Late night spar, huh?" You don't miss the added gruffness in his tone, or the fact that he refuses to look at you now, staring somewhere over your head.
And if you were a better woman, you wouldn't feel the need to play into his offputting display of jealousy- but you're you after all.. and he's Ghost. So, you give a little hum before plucking the tiny skewer from your cup,
"Couldn't sleep.." You shrug, looking up at him under you lashes, his eyes already on the maraschino cherry that drips down your fingers, "Figured I'd do something a little more productive since I was up anyway-"
Simon tracks your hand, falling right into your terrible little game as you bring the fruit to your lips- it's tooth achingly sweet when you finally bite into it, mixed with the burn of whiskey. And it's when the juice runs down your chin that you meet his gaze, swiping up the liquid on your thumb, he watches with a severity that sends a dangerous chill up your spine- not even daring to blink as you suck the digit clean.
You know he's keenly aware of exactly what you're doing, but that doesn't stop the lust and satisfaction from rushing through you at his deep growl- those coppery eyes darker than you've ever seen.
All too innocently, you flash him a smile, "I think I'll have one more.. you want anything, sir?"
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Ghost thinks he can feel the crystal glass in his hand begin to splinter under his grip, unable to tear his eyes away from the red stain on your lips- it's enough to drive him mad.
He gives you a curt shake of his head, knowing that if he had another drink, he might lose whatever vague sense of self-control he's clinging onto so precariously.
And instead of watching you walk away, he turns toward the pool tables, needing something to do with his hands- because if he clenched them any fucking tighter he think he might draw blood with the way his blunt nails dig into his calloused palm.
Without waiting for the others, he racks the balls before picking up a cue stick and breaking the formation- moving around the table just as Johnny sidles up to him,
"Did’nae take ye for a billiards guy, LT.." He says, quickly working to chalk up his own cue.
Gaz and Price follow soon after, eager to join in on teams- and it works, for a short time anyway to distract him. If he can just stay focused on making each shot, then he won't have time to think about you. But, that's a rather silly notion, isn't it? Because sure enough, just as he leans in to take a shot, he spots you bump elbows with his Scottish counterpart.
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"Here to give me some good luck, lil LT?" Johnny looks down at you with a lopsided grin, both hands wrapped around the cue stick as he leans on it.
You take a slow sip of your drink, just enough time to glance at Simon- sleeves now pulled up to expose the thickly corded muscles of his forearms and the faded black ball cap on his head turned backwards. He's calculated in his shot, efficiently knocking a striped ball into the nearest pocket-
"I don't think you want any of my luck, sergeant.." You drawl, eyes flitting up to see his deep blue ones already on you, "Can't say I have the best track record when it comes to that."
Soap's chuckle is warm and laced with silk in your ears, watching him copy his superior's movements, finessing his own cue to score a bankshot. Gaz is next, followed by Price, and you follow them ardently, moving around the table as they go until it's back to Ghost-
"Aye, LT-" Johnny calls, "Why don't you show Hela how to do a jump.."
You've managed to get close enough to the towering man now that he has to look down at you before glaring back at his sergeant,
"'m sure she can figure it out on 'er own, Johnny."
"I've actually never really played." You say before your better judgment can stop your mouth from moving- maybe you have had a little much to drink.
And the way Simon's jaw clenches, having taken off his mask as the other patrons slowly dispersed, makes your core tighten- biting the fleshy inside of your cheek between your teeth. You shouldn't push it. You’ve done enough of that already, haven’t you?
Yet, in one swift motion, Simon's hand is on your hip, the other taking the half-empty cup from your grasp before positioning your body in front of his. It isn't exactly gentle, there's a roughness to his movements that put you on edge, a stiffness in his voice that only stokes the the fire in your belly,
"Hold it 'ere.." You take the stick in your hand, the wood still hot from his touch, "and 'ere."
When you grab it this time, he covers your hand, easily repositioning it further down- "Like that."
Very suddenly, you're regretting putting yourself in this situation, so swept up in the feeling of Simon all but dwarfing you, his proximity far more intoxicating than any of the alcohol you've consumed tonight, that you don't notice the sly smirk on Gaz's face- nor the knowing looks shared between your teammates.
In your defense, Simon makes it hard to concentrate on much of anything with the way he slowly leans into you, urging you to bend forward- his hold light but still strong enough to make the slightest adjustments to your stance,
"Lift your elbow now." He mutters, his breath tickling over your exposed shoulder, your jacket left slung over the nearest chair. But it's his hand that catches you off guard, because unlike every other movement he's made with purpose and intention, a man simply doing a job; when he moves now, it's slow, his fingers grazing up your side before softly caressing the skin of your arm,
"Good."
You shift on your feet, your body feeling like it might combust at any moment, the one word spoken in his brassy accent threatening to unravel you on the spot.
The next few moments seem to pass in a blur, you feel him lean in just a bit closer, his left arm bracing over you on the edge of the table as his right hand lands right behind yours on the stick. Whatever he does after is more like a magic trick than logic, rushing the tip downward on the ball with enough force to nearly jerk you forward, but with enough finesse that the little sphere hops off the table- knocking what you assume was the intended target into its pocket.
It takes longer than you're proud of to recover, scrambling to put a bright smile on your face, moving when he does and hoping to whatever deities might exist that it's dark enough to hide the red hue of your cheeks,
"Look at that, a natural, ma'am!" Gaz shouts, clapping a wide palm over your back- and you try to force out a laugh, try to keep your eyes away from the dark form that's moved back towards the table now.
Away from you.
And you wish it didn't make your stomach twist, seeing him pull his mask back on and fixing his ballcap again so that the bill sits low over his eyes-
"Headin' out, Simon?" Price speaks up, an unlit cigar propped lazily between his lips now.
Simon gives his signature nod, which barely a perceptible gesture, but you're all used to it enough by now. The captain, already out past his bedtime, is happy to begin rounding up his own belongings as well, urging the sergeants to get it together and get to the truck,
"I call shotgun!" Soap calls over his shoulder, already barreling towards the exit, Garrick hot on his heels,
"Fuckin' hell.." Price grumbles, looking back at you, "Need a lift, love?"
"No, I'm good. See you tomorrow, Cap." You say, a tired smile reassuring him enough that you would get home-
And just like that, the once bustling pub is more like a ghost town when you step out into the crisp night air, watching the tail lights flicker away. You had gotten a taxi here, but you feel too wired to call for one now- your body felt like it was vibrating, still so lost in the fading memory of what happened inside. But maybe you were just imagining it.. maybe you had let those lines between reality and fantasy blur a little too close for comfort.
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Simon climbed into the driver's seat, his hands hitting the steering wheel before ripping the hat and mask off and throwing them onto the dash-
"Fuck."
What was he thinking? He should have never given into it, never touched you the way he did, held you, gotten close enough to feel you against him again. Should have never fed the monster.
God-fucking-damn MacTavish and his annoying fucking antics, never knowing when to quit. Ever since the undercover mission, the man had been a hound with a scent. Testing and prodding and sticking his damned nose in places it didn't belong-
Simon loathes new places.
But there you are. Standing under the milky glow of the street lamp, your hands tangled in your hair and your cheeks puffed in frustration. And so fucking beautiful he can't stand it.
He should leave. He needs to go back to base, needs to take a shower so cold it hurts, needs to bury himself in work just like you did. He needs, he needs, he needs.
Yet, he doesn't do any of those things.
No, like the awful, depraved man he is, he steps out of the truck and makes a beeline right for you- which, looking back on it, might not have been the best course of action because the instant you see his hulking frame he watches how you go on the defensive. Your posture stiffening and your hand reaching for one of your many concealed weapons if he knows you like he thinks he does.
That's ok though, he imagines you could stab him right here in the parking lot and he wouldn't mind one bit. Hell, you could slit his throat and he would smile as he bled out at your feet.
Thankfully, you do neither of those things.
And as soon as you're within reach, he's got those big hands framing your face, crushing his lips to yours.
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Shock is all you can register at first. Your mind and body flooded by adrenaline, ready for a fight when you initially saw the shadowed figure coming for you. But in those same few seconds, you recognized him, recognized every purpose driven stride, the steady sway of his shoulders-
Though him kissing you hadn't necessarily been on the list of things you had expected.
You're pulled to your tiptoes, and for a moment you think it might be a dream, the way he audibly groans when your lips begin to move against his. But he doesn't relent, and you don't want him to. So you lean up, wrapping your arms around his neck as soon as your muscles can catch up to your thoughts.
You feel his tongue gently glide over your bottom lip, a gentle urging for you to reciprocate- which you're more than happy to oblige. The kiss turning somehow more heated, sloppy even, something you had never experienced yet something that you never want to end.
But all too soon, he does pull away, his fingers threading through your hair, "I'm sorry-"
Again, hearing Simon Riley apologise was just not on the bingo card for tonight.
He presses his forehead to yours, your heavy breaths mingling with his, remnants of whiskey and bourbon filling your nostrils,
"Sorry?" You look up at him, eyebrows tightly knitted, "For what?"
"The mission.. I shouldn't have- I didn't-" --he stumbles over his words, scarred lips finally pulling into a grimace, "Hel, is it true?"
The way his gaze bores into you feels intimate, like he's trying to peel you apart, "Gonna have to be a little less vague there.. I'm smart, but I can't read minds."
Your breathy chuckle helps to ease the tension, if such a thing were possible with how close he still holds you,
"That you've never been with anyone, like that.."
Oh. GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU, MACTAVISH.
When you take a step back, he reluctantly lets you go, his expression faltering for a moment- and you hate it. Hate that you had possibly hurt him- but you just needed space to put it all together, to try to explain.
"Yes.." his face falls even more, and it's like you can feel the shame that radiates from him, your hands reaching for him on their own, fingers tangling into the fabric of his shirt, "But I wanted it.. I wanted.. you. I want you- jesus, fuck- I'm so bad at this."
"You didn't say anythin'.."
You shake your head, a laugh huffing through you as you look to the inky sky above, "Would it have changed anything?"
"I wouldn't have-"
"You wouldn't have done what you did? Why?"
That seems to stump him, his mouth opening and then closing, opening again, "You deserved more."
"Simon, just because I've never had sex doesn't mean I'm completely naive.." You initiate the kiss this time, mimicking the way he had held your face, pulling him closer, "I'm under no illusion that it's suppose to be this magical moment-"
He eagerly returns your kiss, an arm wrapping around your waist as you continue, "And, let's be honest, having 'The Ghost' on his knees was waaayy better than sex."
You feel his smile right before he bends down and hoists over his shoulder,
"Simon!"
But, your shrieks and giggles fall on deaf ears, hands smacking at his back in a lame attempt to wiggle free, "Mm.. no, no, keep screamin' my name, sweet girl. I like the way it sounds."
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a/n: this one got away from me… but your honor, they’re down so bad for each other 😭 thank you for reading!!
[PT 4] (coming soon)
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gogogodzilla · 2 days
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hiiiii can i request a smut one shot with peeta🥰 anything you’d like. thank you!!!
Dress || Peeta Mellark
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peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, slight dirty talk, fingering, mentions of panty stealing, continuation of this post masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩
Effie isn’t lying when she mentions that the Capitol spared no expense for the reception at President Snow’s mansion, although it’s probably pocket change for the Capitol. Humongous parties like this are the norm, after all. 
Your engagement ring’s an unfamiliar sensation on your finger but not an unwelcome one. You link your arm with Peeta’s as you explore the mansion. The ceiling of the banquet hall replicates the night sky and reminds you of home. You wonder if any of the Capitol citizens have ever seen the night sky. The lights from the city are usually too bright, and you doubt many have bothered to venture outside of the Capitol. 
You walk through the ornate halls, exchanging pleasantries with dignitaries and various guests. As the night wears on you begin to think that your cheeks might cramp up from all the smiling. 
It isn’t long before you find where the food is being kept and your mouth waters at the sight. Tables are laden with every kind of dish you could imagine and even more that you’ve never seen in your life line the walls.
“It isn’t fair,” you whisper as you gaze at the various tables. 
Peeta turns to you with a barely-masked grim look. “People are starving…” he began but you’re quick to cut him off. 
“I know.” 
Before you know it, you’re sampling everything you possibly could, determined not to let anything go to waste. It’s no time before your moments of peace with Peeta are ruined by your prep team descending on you. Their drunken babbles mix together, but you do your best to keep up with what they’re saying. 
Octavia questions why you aren’t eating and you brush her off with a laugh, claiming to be unable to fit another bite. This causes a chorus of high-pitched laughs to break out amongst your prep team, and you shoot Peeta a confused look which he mirrors. 
“No one lets that stop them!” Flavius exclaims as he leads you and Peeta to a table holding thin-stemmed wine glasses filled with a clear liquid. 
Peeta picks one up to take a sip, and it’s almost comical how fast every member of your prep team moves to stop him. 
“Not here!” Octavia shrieks. 
Venia points to doors that lead to the bathroom, “You have to do it in there or you’ll get it all over the floor!” 
Peeta looks between the glass and your prep team, quickly putting the pieces together. “You mean this will make me puke?” 
You attempt to hide your disgust while your prep team chuckles. 
“It’s so you can keep eating. How else would you be able to try everything?” Octavia says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
Peeta sets the glass gently back down on the table and holds his arm out to you. “I think it’s time for a dance. My love?” 
Peeta leads you onto the dance floor and pulls you into his arms, mimicking the stance of the dance Effie taught you not too long ago. The dances at home are more lively than this, but you appreciate the closeness this one provides. 
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he murmurs, and his jaw tenses. 
You run your fingertips along his shoulder and then give it a reassuring squeeze. “Just one more night, and then we can go home,” you remind softly, a small smile gracing your features as you attempt to comfort him. 
He leans his forehead against yours, sighing. “I can’t wait.” 
You pull away slightly, eyes flickering to the front pocket of his suit where your panties are safely nestled. He follows your gaze and grins slyly. 
“You know, I think there are a few rooms we didn’t explore,” you suggest, looking at the crowd around you. Most people are too busy with their conversations to notice you. 
The soft music comes to an end and you give a small curtsy while Peeta bows back. He takes your hand and leads you through the opulent halls of the mansion. Candlelight illuminates your path as you follow him, and a jolt of the thrill of what’s to come runs down your spine. 
Your adventure leads you to a nearly empty hallway and Peeta picks a room to peek into. Once satisfied with the apparent emptiness of the room, he pulls you in and shuts the door gently behind you. He spins you around and before you know it, his lips are on yours. You’re quick to deepen the kiss, and he lets out a small groan in response. 
You pull away to catch your breath and turn your head to admire the room you’re in. It’s elegantly appointed with plush furnishings and a canopy bed. Peeta takes the opportunity to trail kisses down the side of your neck, and you lean your head to the side to give him more room. 
Peeta’s hands begin to wander across your body, caressing any skin he can reach as he nudges you closer to the bed. Your mind is screaming at you to stop this and return to the party, but the ache between your legs proves to be much more persuasive. 
The backs of your thighs hit the mattress and you clamber onto the bed as quickly as your dress will allow. Peeta follows you and his lips are back on yours within an instant. You groan into the kiss, already becoming lost in him. 
He runs his hands up your legs, pulling your dress up along with it. You nearly forgot how exposed you were the entire night until the cool air of the bedroom hits your dripping heat. Peeta kneels between your legs, and you spare a glance at him. His eyes are half-lidded and his cheeks are flushed and he looks absolutely perfect. 
Your eyes dip down to the very obvious tent in his pants and you can’t help but reach for it. He watches as you palm him, occasionally grinding against your hand. 
You tentatively reach for the button of his pants and look up at him for permission. With a nod of his head, you pop the button of his trousers and tug the zipper down. Clumsy fingers reach within the waistband of his briefs and free his cock from its confines. Peeta groans as you slowly stroke him.
He drags his fingertips along your thighs, slowly nearing where you need him the most. 
You buck your hips unconsciously, desperate for his touch, as you continue to gingerly stroke him. 
Peeta slowly, sinfully, circles your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance, earning a mewl from you. He presses a finger inside you, pumping it slowly before adding another one. 
Your eyes roll in the back of your head as he touches what feels like the deepest depths of your insides, and your grip loosens on his cock as you get lost in the sensation of him. 
He removes his fingers and you whine at the loss, but he quickly satiates you with the drag of his cock through your folds. Your fingers tangle in the bedsheets on either side of you, desperate for something to hold onto. 
“So beautiful, my love,” Peeta murmurs as the head of his cock teases your entrance. 
“Please, Peeta,” you whine as you grab onto his forearm, the cuff of his suit wrinkling under your grasp. 
He chuckles before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “S’okay, my love. I’ll take care of you.” 
Slowly, he pushes inside of you and your eyebrows knit together as you focus on taking all of him. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and it was making your head spin. 
Your hands slide up to cup Peeta’s face, and his pulse quickens under your fingertips. You tug him closer, longing for his lips on yours. 
The kiss is gentle and sweet, much unlike your heated and needy movements moments ago. Slowly, Peeta begins moving his hips and you gasp against him. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, and your cheeks flush. 
You pull him impossibly closer as the pace of his thrusts increases and he presses sloppy kisses against the column of your neck. He pins your arms on either side of your head and intertwines your fingers with his. 
Peeta rests his head against your shoulder and with every roll of his hips little pants and moans leave him. You wished he would be louder, but you feared you’d be shot on sight if you got caught. Although, it would be a very memorable headline for the evening news. 
“You’re so,” he begins but is cut off by both of you moaning as he reaches a particularly sensitive spot within you and you clench against him. “Fuck, my love.” 
“Faster,” you whine against him, acutely aware of the amount of time you’ve been gone from your own party. 
Peeta ruts deeply within you as he quickens his pace, and the moans that left him cause your cheeks to flush. His head resting on your shoulder allows you to hear every little noise that he makes, and you love every single second of it. 
You reach down to where you’re connected and draw hasty circles against your clit, causing the familiar coil inside you to tense. You’re not sure whether it’s the final roll of his hips or your fingers circling your clit just right that throws you over the edge, but you let out a loud moan that Peeta quickly swallows with a kiss. 
His hips falter against your own, and Peeta quickly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, and Peeta kneels between your legs as he strokes himself once and then twice before his release coats your inner thighs. 
You attempt to catch your breath as you watch Peeta come down from his high. He leans down and captures your lips in his. You smile into the kiss, momentarily forgetting what awaits you outside the bedroom door. 
You pull away and cup his face, “We should probably rejoin the party. I think Effie will be looking for us.” 
He sighs as he leans into your touch, “It was nice to forget for a moment where we are and why we’re here.” 
“It was,” you nod as you lean in for one last kiss. Peeta is quick to oblige you before pulling out his handkerchief and cleaning up the mess the two of you made. 
He rights himself before helping you to the edge of the bed, careful of your skirts. 
“Do you think people noticed?” 
You huff out a laugh, “For the sake of our lives, I hope they were too busy with the food.”
“It’d certainly make our act more convincing,” he grins as he helps you stand. Your legs are a little wobbly and you cling to him. 
“You keep making my legs feel like this, and it won’t be an act anymore,” you tease as you both near the door. 
He leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
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downbadf0rficppl · 2 months
Text
someone's there
Bucky x F!Reader
Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack
Repost
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You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.
You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.
Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.
And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.
The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.
You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.
She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"
Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.
Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.
You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.
Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.
The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.
The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.
Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.
The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.
You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.
The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.
"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.
The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.
"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.
You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.
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By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.
You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.
But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.
To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.
You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.
You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.
As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.
Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.
He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.
You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.
You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.
He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.
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You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.
It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.
You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.
You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.
"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.
"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.
"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.
"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."
"The pizza place?"
"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."
You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.
"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.
"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.
"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."
"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.
The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.
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"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."
June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.
Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.
Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.
You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.
Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.
A teenager was on the phone with the police.
You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.
The door swung open, letting in a draft.
Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.
Sirens.
"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.
A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.
"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.
You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.
"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.
"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.
You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.
You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.
"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"
He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."
You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.
"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.
"Take me home, Buck."
fin.
buy me a coffee
1K notes · View notes
hanasnx · 9 months
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Ok but hear me out- Hobie with his absolute pussy wrecking dick, and he refuses to do anything with it until you’re fucked out on his tongue first….
(and when he does you can’t say anything cos he’s pounding into you like a fucking animal)
“absolute pussy wrecking dick” audibly gulping rn gasping for air rn
the kind of dick that ripples you when he goes in over and over, every backshot reverberating up your spine, forcing you forward on your elbows and your cheek buried into the mattress. how it fills you out and kisses your cervix in such a sting, you’re fluid and limp as he uses you. his big hand on the back of your neck to keep you pinned to avoid being pushed further away from him with each thrust.
fingers tucked into the overlapping flesh of your thigh and hip, yanking you back into him until you’re yelling, howling into the covers, praying no one in this apartment building can hear you even though you know they can. you’ve got a feeling hobie likes that fact.
your brain has turned to mush, you can’t form a thought, can’t respond to his dirty talk. “knew a slag like you could take a dick like this. how’s it feel, dove? worth it? worth beggin’ for it?”
you’re near tears as he drives into you, moving to palm your tailbone to force you down onto every inch of his formidable cock. drooling onto the sheets, gripping onto them, eyelashes fluttering while your hole swallows him up.
hobie brown and his pussy wrecking dick..
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runawrites-blog · 12 days
Text
Late (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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Summary: When Bucky overhears you telling Natasha about your period being late he immediately knows what this could mean. To ease your mind until you know for sure he tries to subtly show you that he’d be there to care for a potential child. You find yourself surprisingly happy about this possibility. (Female Reader) Word Count: 4,986 Warnings: Mild Pregnancy Scares, Talk of Menstruation, Baby Fever, No Y/N, Petnames (Doll, Sweetheart) Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54538210 A/N: Also, quick question, would anyone be interested in a smut fiction with Bucky, containing choking?
---
"I’m really late.”
“How late?”
“My period should have started about seven days ago. I’ve never been this late, normally I’m almost always on time.”
“That really is pretty late.” Natasha mused and turned to face you as you stood next to her on Clint’s porch, overlooking the rainy fields. You were all visiting the Bartons after Clint had gotten injured on a mission, leaving him with a broken femur and you all coming over to try to make the house easier for him to get around with his injury. “Have you talked to Bucky, yet?”
You quieted down for a second, opting to turn back toward the rain rather than look at Natasha’s face, knowing that she would urge you to talk to your partner about this. And you knew that even with such an intimate topic you could always talk to Bucky. Menstruation wasn’t a taboo subject in your relationship, so when you were on your period Bucky was aware of it and when you needed him to comfort you or run to the store to get you supplies he was quick to do so.
The two of you had also talked about the possibility of having children before and you had both agreed that one day you would love to have some of your own but that this day was still in the future. So, you knew he wanted children one day and after being with him for years you also knew that he wouldn’t react negatively to all of this. But you didn’t want to worry him because you thought that your period was late for a whole different reason.
“I was so stressed and busy lately. I even calculated when I should have ovulated and at the time we were flying around the world, trying to take down that crime syndicate.” You explained, not meeting her eyes just yet. “I’m sure it’s just the stress that delayed my ovulation and with that also my period.”
“But have you talked to Bucky about it, yet?”
“Not yet. As I said I’m pretty sure it’s just the stress I’ve been under, so it’s probably not a serious issue and I don’t want to worry him with it. I know that everyone immediately assumes that a late period means someone is pregnant, so I don’t want him jumping to conclusions when it might just be from the stress and will probably resolve itself.” You explained before turning to her. “Can we talk about something else? If I don’t get my period within the next week, I’ll talk to him, alright? But for now, let’s please change the subject.”
“Alright.” Natasha nodded and thought for a second. “How was your date night?”
Before you could answer you heard the screen door open and turned to find Bucky stepping onto the porch. Your eyes locked with his and you smiled brightly, making his face light up as you walked up to embrace him. He pulled you to his side and pressed a kiss to your head.
“Where have you been all day?”
“All around the house really, talking to Steve and Sam, helping Laura and everyone else move things around to make it easier for Clint to get around with his cast on.” Bucky said nonchalantly, leaning over to press his lips to your cheek. “I heard you talking about our date night.”
You looked up at him, worry rising in you for the flash of a second, concerned that he’d heard the previous topic of conversation. But you quickly overplayed your concerns with a bright smile as you nodded and went on to tell Natasha about the museum you’d been to where they were currently showing an exhibition about Captain America. When you started talking about how many children had been there Bucky piped up.
“Sweetheart, do you remember that young girl who recognised me as the man from one of the photos?”
You nodded quickly and turned to Natasha with a bright smile. “He was in the historical photos there and a little girl, no older than maybe five or six years old, recognised him. She was too shy to talk to him at first but we saw her pulling at her father’s sleeve and pointing Bucky out to him.”
“How cute!” Natasha smiled and looked back at Bucky. “Did you go talk to her?”
“He did.” You answered for your partner, a warm smile on your face. “He went up to her and asked her if she could point him to the display of the shields. It was such a good idea because it meant she could be the one to help Bucky.”
“That was exactly why I did it and it did the trick. It put her in charge of the situation and she pointed me to the shields. She tagged along with us as we went there, chatting away with me about how she’d read books about me and Steve, how she wanted to be just like us when she grew up and asking me all sorts of questions. “
Natasha smiled at that, putting her hands on her hips. “Sure you don’t want to switch professions and work in childcare, Buck?”
“No, I’m quite fond of the whole superhero business.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded his head toward you. “I’m also more fond of the idea of having my own children.”
Natasha shot you a pointed look but you remained quiet and simply leaned back into his side, changing the subject of the conversation to an elderly lady who had also approached Bucky after recognising him at the exhibition. Bucky’s hand tensed on your arm for the fraction of a second but before you could even look up he was already talking to Natasha again.
---
It took another hour for the rain to lighten but as soon as it did Clint’s children were outside in the garden, Cooper getting on the tyre swing and pulling out his book, Lila going back to practising her archery which the rain had interrupted her at and Nathaniel running to get his soccer ball to play with. That’s when you heard Clint calling out to all of you, asking for someone to help him get outside onto the porch. Natasha was quick to rush inside to help him while you and Bucky kept an eye on the children.
“Come on, Lila!” Nathaniel complained from down on the field as he approached his sister who put her bow down to look at him. “Why won’t you play with me?”
“I want to practice my archery, Nat.”
Nathanial groaned in annoyance before walking over to his brother. “What about you? Can we play soccer?”
“I just want to finish the chapter first.”
The boy crossed his arms and hung his head in disappointment, kicking his ball to the side and slumping down on a nearby log. You were about to go down into the garden, to try and mediate, comfort Nathaniel or offer to play soccer with him when you felt Bucky’s arm slip off your shoulder. When you turned your head to look at him you saw him giving you a small glance before walking down into the garden, waving at Nathaniel.
“I’ll play with you!”
“Really?” Nathaniel looked up, a smile immediately spreading on his face as he watched Bucky come up to him. “Thank you, Mister Barnes!”
Bucky smiled at his excitement, picking up the ball on the way. “Call me Bucky, alright?”
“Alright!” Nathaniel nodded and then moved across the field, waving Bucky after him. “You be the goalie, alright?”
“Sure, but go easy on me. I’m not a professional soccer player.”
“But you’re a superhero!”
You watched a genuine soft smile spread across Bucky’s face. “Do you think we defeat bad guys by challenging them to a game of soccer?”
Nathaniel shrugged and then grinned up at Bucky. “Have you ever tried?”
“Actually, no. I might have to give your idea a try, buddy.”
Crossing your arms over your chest you watched Bucky play soccer with Nathaniel, a soft smile spreading across your face and a warm feeling engulfing your heart. You still thought that stress was the reason for your late period but you knew that even if you were expecting Bucky would make a great father -- but then again, you had always known that. Nathaniel kept scoring goals and though you could tell that Bucky was letting the ball go in on purpose from time to time, sometimes he looked genuinly surprised at the boy’s aim. Sighing softly, you leaned against one of the wooden support beams of the porch while Natasha helped Clint sit down on a nearby chair and you watched Bucky cheer Nathaniel on.
“Sure you don’t want to talk to him?”
You winced in surprise when Natasha’s voice sounded off just beside your ear and you turned your head to find her standing right next to you. Sighing softly, you shook your head and leaned back against the beam, turning to continue watching Bucky and Nathaniel play.
“I’ll wait a couple more days but I will eventually talk to him about it.” You promised, keeping your voice down so Clint wouldn’t hear your conversation. “But I know that I have nothing to worry about. Even if I were pregnant, I think Bucky would make a great father.”
“Definitely.” Natasha said, her smile evident in her voice as she whispered back to you. “If you want to wait a few more days, do so. But you have nothing to worry about. He’s a good guy and he will stand by you no matter what happens.”
“I never doubted that.”
A clap of thunder made everyone look up at the sky and Clint called out to the children to come back inside. They didn’t have to be told twice. Lila started packing up her things while Cooper got off the swing to head for the porch. Nathaniel clutched the ball to his chest as he looked up at the sky in fear but Bucky was quick to react, crouching down next to him and holding out his metal arm to him.
“Hold on and I’ll carry you inside. We’ll be super fast, I promise.”
Nathaniel turned to look at Bucky and at another encouraging nod from the man he grabbed onto the metal arm’s biceps, holding on tightly as your partner stood up, lifting the boy off the ground and leaving him dangling from the arm. While they set out for the porch, you could hear Nathaniel laughing as he swung back and forth on Bucky’s arm, his hands clasped tightly around his biceps. What stood out to you was the fact that Bucky’s eyes kept flicking over to yours, almost as if to see whether or not you were looking at him. But you couldn’t really think about that observation because you found yourself distracted by a strange sense of longing settling in your chest.
---
It was two days later that you two found yourself in a furniture store, looking for a new dresser and despite your period still being late, you were no longer focused on the worry you felt about that and more thinking about the longing you had felt when watching Bucky play with Nathaniel two days prior. It made you wonder if having a child with Bucky was something that you might want sooner rather than later.
“I cannot believe we broke your dresser.”
You shushed Bucky, heat rising to your cheeks as you remembered how exactly the dresser had broken and how much teasing you had already had to endure from your fellow Avengers. “Will you keep it down?”
“You didn’t tell me that last night.” Bucky grinned and wrapped an arm around your shoulders when he saw you roll your eyes, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. “But then again, that is part of the reason why we’re here.”
Once more you rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help but chuckle as you leaned into him. “Just remind me that we’re only here for a dresser when I will inevitably find twenty other things that might come in handy. I need you to be the voice of reason here and tell me I don’t need every little thing I see.”
Bucky chuckled at that and threw you a playfully wary glance. “I don’t know if I can turn down any of your wishes, Doll.”
The two of you kept walking until you came to the department for children’s furniture beyond which you knew lay the department for regular bedrooms. As you walked past the displays of cribs and bunk beds, the walls behind them decorated in images of stars with stuffed animals and mobiles all around, you felt a strange longing return. You cuddled closer against Bucky’s side, making him turn to you but you didn’t see his facial expression because you kept looking around. He was quiet for a few seconds before he leaned over to press a kiss to your head.
“When we have a kid one day, what theme would you choose for their nursery?”
You blinked in surprise at his question, noticing how the longing feeling lightened just the smallest amount at the first word of the sentence and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the first thing that came to your mind. “When?”
“We spoke about having children one day. Is it a surprise that I use ‘when’ instead of ‘if’?” Bucky gave you a comforting smile. “So tell me, what theme would you choose for our future child?”
“The space theme.” You smiled softly, looking back at the displays. “Imagine our baby sleeping under those glow-in-the-dark stars or under a mobile of the planets. It would also fit so well because our first proper date was to an exhibition about space travel.”
Bucky’s smile was clear in his voice when he spoke up. “I like that idea a lot.”
You leaned closer to him again and his hand came up to squeeze your shoulder lovingly as you two started walking again. But your peace was interrupted when you rounded the corner to find a couple fighting over what sounded like the choice of a crib, making you stop in your tracks. Against your better judgment, you spoke up, directing their attention to you and Bucky.
“What’s wrong? Do you need help?”
The blond woman rolled her eyes and nodded to the redhead next to her. “My wife here thinks we should get the crib with the wooden frame but it’s much more expensive than the metal frame one.”
“Yes, I know that but I think a crib is not the piece of furniture to cut costs at.” The redhead crossed her arms and shook her head. “Our baby is going to sleep in that bed every night. If you want to cut costs anywhere why not on something like the dresser? If that’s a bit cheaper it won’t be as bad!”
“Would you like an outsider’s opinion on it?”
Both women turned to look at Bucky who took his arm off you to approach the two and they gave him a shrug, agreeing in almost perfect unison that someone else’s opinion might be helpful for their situation. You watched with an interested expression as Bucky smiled and inspected the cribs for a few minutes, reading their descriptions and taking a closer look at them before he turned to the two women again.
“I wouldn’t get either of these.”
“Why not?”
Bucky glanced at you as he spoke up again, once again seemingly making sure that you were paying attention before he said anything. “The one with the metal frame may be an inexpensive one but the mattress that comes with it is not tight fitting enough and that’s a safety hazard for the baby.”
The blonde woman quickly distanced herself from the metal frame crib to examine the wooden one once more. “Why can’t we choose the wooden framed one? The mattress fits better than the one in the other crib.”
“It does but it has those cloud-shaped cutouts on the headboard. The baby’s head or limbs could get caught in it and that’s a safety hazard, too.”
“I totally forgot about that. We even looked up crib safety before coming here and I forgot.” The redhead mumbled and sighed, turning to her wife. “And I’m sorry for going off at you like that. I’ve been so stressed lately.”
“I get it, I wasn’t any better. It’s all forgotten, don’t worry.” The blonde sighed and took her wife’s hand into hers before turning to Bucky. “Got any recommendations on what crib to buy?”
Bucky smiled and nodded toward a crib a few metres away. “I’d get this one. I know that it’s a bit more expensive than the other two but it is convertible, so it can be turned into a toddler bed. It will last you two much longer, so I’d say it’s worth the price.”
“It would look great with the changing table we picked out.”
“It would.” The redhead agreed to her wife before smiling at Bucky. “Thanks for the help, we really appreciate it.”
The blonde nodded before turning to smile at you. “You got yourself a very knowledgable baby daddy there. He’s a keeper.”
Bucky smirked proudly as he turned back at you, watching you come over to embrace his arm and look back at the two women. You didn’t correct the first statement and you didn’t even question why as you answered. “He really is a keeper.”
---
After buying a new dresser the two of you had decided to get lunch together and take a walk around the park afterwards. Your hand was in his as you walked down the walkways, passing by the other people in the park until you heard something that made you stop dead in your tracks. Someone was crying and it sounded like a child. Bucky seemed to have also heard it because he looked around for the source of it before his eyes stilled on a spot next to a large patch of shrubbery. You followed his gaze and found a young girl, no older than four years old sitting on the ground, legs drawn up to her chest and face buried in her arms as she hugged her knees. Before Bucky could react you were approaching her, calling out to her so you wouldn’t startle her as you came close.
“Are you alright?”
“I want my Daddy.” The girl sobbed brokenly but she looked up at you and only then could you see the bloody scrapes on her knees. “I-- I saw a kitty and went after it and-- and I got lost and I fell and my knees hurt real bad!”
You felt concern and pity wash over you at seeing the girl so distraught and hearing that she was lost, so you knelt down next to her. “How about my friend and I help you find your way back to your family?”
“You would? But-- But I don’t know where to look and-- and my knees hurt.”
“Let me check to see if I got some bandaids in my purse.” You said softly and began rummaging through your purse as Bucky crouched down next to you. When you found your small first aid kit you held it up triumphantly. “Look at that, we can patch you up and find your family, alright?”
She was still crying but she let you put bandaids on her knees after spraying some wound disinfectant spray on them. The sting of the spray made her cry even harder but when Bucky let her hold his hand, she calmed down a little. You ignored how he was once more eyeing you as you helped the girl.
“You did so well. You were really brave.” You smiled at her before sitting back on your haunches and introducing yourself by name. “And what’s your name?”
“Penny.”
“It’s nice to meet you Penny.” Bucky said softly, smiling at her. “I’m Bucky.”
Penny wiped her eyes and when you got up, offering her a hand to help her stand she accepted it. Once on her feet, she kept her hand firmly in yours as you surveyed the area, hoping to find someone who looked like they were searching for her.
“What is the last thing you remember? Were you at a playground or a picnic area? Do you remember anything like that maybe?”
“We were at a fountain.” Penny mused, her index finger on her chin as she thought. “We were taking a break.”
Bucky looked back at you with a smile. “I know where they might be. There’s a big water fountain not far from here. We should start there.”
Penny looked up at you before pulling at your hand. “Can you carry me, pretty please? My knees really hurt.”
“Of course.” You smiled and bent down to pick her up, letting her wrap her arms around you as you set out with Bucky leading the way. “Let’s get you back to your Daddy.”
The three of you walked for about ten minutes, with Penny telling you all about her day and you listening intently, only interrupting her to ask questions to keep her talking. Bucky kept glancing back at you, a soft smile on his face. When you came to the fountain you were immediately greeted by a panicked-looking man that Penny quickly reached out to.
“You found her! Thank you so much!” He exclaimed as he took her into his arms and held her close. “I looked away for five seconds to talk to my wife and when I turned back Penny was gone.”
“I saw a kitty, Daddy.” Penny explained before pointing at her knees. “And I fell and hurt myself. But the nice couple helped me and gave me bandaids.”
“Again, thank you so much.” Her father said with a smile. “I hope you didn’t have to search for us for too long.”
“Not at all. Penny was really smart and told us you were at a fountain.” You explained, taking Bucky’s hand and nodding to him. “And Bucky knew where the fountain was so it was no trouble finding you.”
“But even if it had been, we wouldn’t have minded. There’s no need to thank us.” Bucky explained, squeezing your hand and smiling at the man. “We’ll be on our way then.”
“Have a good rest of your day. And again thank you.”
Penny smiled at the two of you, waving from her father’s arms. “Bye-bye!”
You two waved back at her, said your goodbyes and then left to head back to the car. On the way, your hand migrated from Bucky’s hand to hold onto his biceps. Your head leaned against his shoulder and he turned his head to look at you with a small smile.
“You would be a great mother.”
The longing was back and by now you knew exactly what it meant. And you wondered if he felt the same, given how many references to having children he’d made during the past few days, from speaking about it to Natasha to asking about potential nursery themes with you to flat-out telling you you would be a great mother. The glances he kept sending your way whenever either of you interacted with a child or talked about anything that had to do with child-rearing made you question if he was doing all this on purpose.
“You think so?”
“Definitely.” He said and then looked back ahead, a gentle smile spreading across his features. “I cannot wait to have a family with you one day.”
You decided to keep the fact that there was a slim chance that day might come sooner rather than later to yourself for the time being, opting to wait a few more days. Yet, you suspected that you wouldn’t even have to tell him about your worries because by now you were sure that he’d heard all you had said to Natasha. It seemed that Bucky was trying to show you that he’d be ready to raise a child with you. And you were surprised at how happy you were about that slim chance that you might have been pregnant.
“I can’t wait, either.”
---
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been doing.”
Bucky looked up from where he was putting away the dishes, giving you a confused look. You just leaned against the counter next to him, giving him a warm and thankful smile because now you not only knew what he had been doing but you also had an inkling as to why he’d been doing it.
“What do you mean, Doll?”
“Showing me how good you are with kids, how well prepared you would be for raising a child, talking about how much you want to have a child with me, telling me that I’d be a great mother and always making sure I saw how good you were at everything to do with childcare.” You explained softly, reaching out to take his hand into yours. “Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
“You overheard me talking to Natasha two days ago, didn’t you?”
“How you talked to her about your period being late?” He asked and when you nodded, so did he. “Yes, I overheard it before I came outside.”
“And I assume you thought it meant I might be pregnant.” When he nodded, you gave him a soft smile. “Did you do all of that to show me that you’d be ready to raise a child with me should I be pregnant?”
Bucky nodded and turned to face you fully now, moving so he could take both your hands into his. “I want you to know that should you ever have the suspicion that you’re pregnant you can talk to me and that I’d be willing to step up to be a father in an instant.”
“I love you so much, Bucky.” You said and pressed a small kiss to his cheek before drawing back again. “But we won’t need to worry about that for now. I got my period just after I got out of the shower, so I’m definitely not pregnant.”
Saying it out loud made you feel almost sad or disappointed but you tried your best to overplay these feelings. But Bucky was a very observant person, especially when it came to your emotions, and the frown on his face showed that he’d realised that you weren’t all too happy at the moment.
“Are you happy about it?”
“It would have definitely been a big change and a very sudden, unplanned one at that.”
“That’s not what I asked, Sweetheart. Are you happy about it?”
You swallowed at his question and shook your head. “Not completely, no. I’m obviously happy that nothing unplanned has happened because I know that it-- it would have been a big and sudden change. But these past few days I’ve seen how prepared you truly are for a child and how good you are with children and-- and you got called my baby daddy and you kept talking about how much you were looking forward to us having children. I really started liking the idea of having a child with you, James.”
“Come here, Sweetheart.” Bucky whispered as he heard the sadness in your voice and immediately drew you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” You protested through the tears in your voice but you held on to him nonetheless. “I just got so-- so excited about possibly being pregnant but I knew from the start that it was likely not the reason why my period was late.”
“Yes, I heard you talk to Natasha about that, too.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I felt so excited, so happy and so ready for it.”
Bucky gently drew back from you, mustering your face for a few seconds before he spoke up again. “You feel ready to have a baby?”
“Yes.” You nodded after a small pause before you looked up at him again. “But if you’re not ready then please don’t feel forced to do anything you don’t want to just to make me happy. I can wait, I promise.”
“Doll, what about the things I did and said in the last days makes you think I’m not also more than ready to have a child with you?”
“You want to try for a child?”
“I think we should try for a baby if we’re both ready.”
“I like that idea.”
You squeaked in surprise when Bucky all but hoisted you onto the counter behind you, capturing your lips in a kiss as he got between your legs to get closer to your body. The kiss deepened as he tipped you back and pulled you closer, and when he pulled back you gave him a breathless laugh.
“For the record, I didn’t ask you to impregnate me right this instant.”
“Then I think some signals got mixed there.” Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss to your head. “But if we’re going to try, what’s stopping us from starting now?”
“For one, I’m on my period right now.”
Bucky leaned over to gently kiss your jaw. “If you’re uncomfortable with sleeping with me right now then obviously we’re not going to and I respect that. But if you’re worried that I’ll be uncomfortable, let me just tell you that a little blood doesn’t scare me.”
“I think we can wait a few more days to start trying.” You chuckled softly, running your hand up and down his neck. “There’s no need to be in such a hurry.”
“Of course, Doll. Whatever you want.” Bucky said and drew back to give you a warm smile. “I guess I’m simply excited to start a family with you.”
“I am excited to start a family with you, too.”
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sebastiansluts · 11 months
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How about reverse cowgirl with Bucky but you are completely on top of him, and him hooking his arm under your leg and thrusting into your kitty so hard yet he decides to be a little mean by putting 2 of his vibranium fingers inside you while his cock still inside and hooking it so they hit your g-spot perfectly that it makes you squirt everytime he hits it
I believe you'll be the perfect writer to write that kind of sfuff, Rosie!
Bucky Barnes x Reader; vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting,
ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+
You and Bucky were on the bed, and you were sitting on top of him, backwards, facing his legs, slowly sinking down on his dick. You breathed heavily, your hands planted on his calves, your legs tucked under you and still you felt shaky and off-balance.
"B-Bucky, I'm gonna fall," you whimpered, his big cock stretching you and it was only halfway in. His hands were firm on your hips, and he squeezed them, the vibranium shifting in his arm and making you squeak.
"Doll, you're not goin' anywhere," Bucky muttered, and pulled you down farther on his dick, making you take the stretch and pain until you were gasping with pleasure, his tip hitting that special spot inside you.
You panted as you adjusted, slowly walking your hands up his firm, thick thighs, until you pushed yourself upright, sat on top of him. Bucky kneaded your hips again, before sliding his mismatched hands up your sides, smoothing over your arms, until he had a firm grip on your upper arms.
"C'mon baby, I told ya, you're not goin' anywhere," Bucky said, pulling you down until you started falling, then he stopped you, controlling your descent, getting you resting on top of him completely.
"Fuck...Bucky don't slip out," you whined as he shifted, propping his feet on the mattress, yours still folded at his sides. He reached down, vibranium and flesh grabbing your calves and lifting you as you squeaked until your legs were folded up by your head.
"You still worried 'bout me slippin' out?" Bucky chuckled, draping your legs over his arms, the vibranium shifting beneath you making you shiver.
Bucky started thrusting, gently at first, teasing you with it before he suddenly started putting more power behind his thrusts, grunts and whimpers leaving you as his big cock stretched you again and again.
"How 'bout now doll, think 'm still gonna 'let you fall' or 'slip out' or some other silly nonsense?" Bucky was relentless with both his words and his thrusts, fucking you so hard you knew you were going to be bruised and swollen.
"No Bucky! I trust you!" you cried out, and his hips stuttered for a moment before regaining their steady, almost too much, powerful rhythm.
"Yeah? You trust me baby? So fuckin' sweet of ya, can't stand it doll. You're too good to me, so I'm gonna be too good to you."
Your eyes widened, staring up at the ceiling in shock as Bucky reached his vibranium hand over and slid a finger in beside his cock. You clenched hard, breath punched out of you, the sting back and intense, nearly bringing tears to your eyes, but Bucky kept moving, sliding his cock in and out of your hole while he kept his finger still.
You groaned, forced to take him like he wanted, literally held into position. "Bucky...fuck, it's s'much," you panted, moaning as he rubbed a second finger against where his cock was pressing deep inside your cunt.
"Aww, havin' trouble doll? S'it too much? No, never too much for my baby," Bucky praised as he pressed his second finger in beside the other, his cock pushing back deep into you.
Your mouth dropped open, your head fallen back on Bucky's shoulder as his vibranium fingers flexed inside you before hooking on your spot, pressing hard just as his dick plunged deep.
You gasped as pressure built inside you and released, liquid squirting out of you above Bucky's dick even as he pulled back partway. "Bucky!" you cried, and he groaned loudly, fucking you hard again, fingers pressing that spot and you felt that release again. You squirted again, to Bucky's absolute delight.
"Jesus Christ doll, that's fuckin' it, soak me baby, drench me, c'mon you can do it," he goaded, every other word punctuated with a thrust and a push of his fingers which set you off, squirting all over Bucky and the bed.
Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes rolled back in your head and still you were coming, body and thighs shaking as you tried to hold on to yourself.
Bucky wouldn't stop making you squirt, but his thrusts were getting sloppier the closer he came to coming. There was a puddle forming on the bed beneath you two, as Bucky lifted his hips repeatedly, forcing you to take everything.
Your back arched as you came dry, spasming around Bucky's dick and clenching tight enough to trigger his orgasm. He came inside you with a pulse and a groan. He pulled his fingers free and buried his cock deep inside you, holding you down against him.
"Take it all baby, everything I give ya," Bucky groaned, and you just whimpered, overstimulated and exhausted, body twitching as he emptied himself inside you, then let your legs drop to the bed.
"Good fuckin' girl," he praised, stroking your still trembling thighs, smoothing over your sensitive cunt and making you jump. "I think this might be a new go-to position, hmm?"
You moaned, already imagining how much he'd make you come and squirt and ruin the bed further. "Yeah doll, get ready for round two."
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vampiresfromxenon · 6 months
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I Wanted To
Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav
Almost 3.5k words 
Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!! 
CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)
Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.
~
It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy. 
For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you. 
It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love. 
He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical. 
You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations. 
For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep. 
Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.
Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.
He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads. 
You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side. 
You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.
“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you. 
“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?” 
His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space. 
You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.
Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep. 
Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know. 
Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.
 “I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice. 
“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”
You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you. 
“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy. 
“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks. 
“Admiring how beautiful I am?”
“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds. 
He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-” 
“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you. 
You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him. 
“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery. 
“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel. 
“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more. 
“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy. 
“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.
Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes. 
Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again. 
The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do. 
You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.
“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words. 
Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise. 
Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you. 
“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.
“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.
“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.
He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.
“Safe.” 
He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips. 
“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”
He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat. 
“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing. 
“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you. 
When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.
“I love you.”
You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.
“Shit. Did you hear that?”
“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest. 
“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.
“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe. 
~
Author’s Note:
He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)
I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha
My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :) 
Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭
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farfromstrange · 2 months
Text
S.M.S | Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: Getting intimate with Matt in the morning on a lazy Sunday.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), SMS (soft morning sex), slight Dom!Matt, praise kink, use of "good girl", unprotected p in v, slight choking, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, slight (very slight) breeding kink, mention of cum eating, use of "my wife"
Word Count: 1.8k
A/n: This is pure filth with no plot. I don't know what came over me. I'm so desperate for this man, it's not even funny anymore. I'm gonna take a cold shower because writing this made me feel some kind of way... anyway, enjoy this little smut piece! Diving right in under the cut (with a gif), so minors, scramble!
Read me on AO3
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The morning sun streams in through the windows. In the distance, a few birds are chirping at the top of their little lungs. A car honks. The people of Hell’s Kitchen are slowly waking up and going about their weekend. 
All the noise doesn’t matter to you though. The four walls you call home form a protective shield around you, and the only music in the air is the mixed sound of your moans and Matt’s strong thighs meeting the back of yours as he thrusts his thick cock into the tight confines of your cunt.
He’s behind you, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the front, and the other holds on tight to your hip. He moves your body back against his, thrusting into you over and over again at a gentle pace. You don’t have to do anything but take his long, deep, and slow strokes that you can feel in your stomach. 
With every thrust, the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy spot inside of you. The spot that makes your eyes roll back, your toes curl, and stars erupt in front of your eyes. It makes your entire body give in to the compelling pull of absolute pleasure, the coil within you tightening and tightening and tightening, but still too far away to explode. 
Matt’s fingers are rough, but when they touch you, they remind you of soft feathers, always making sure not to hurt you. He pours his love into his touch like a poet would bleed his soul into his rhymes. His touch burns into your being—into the essence of who you are—and it consumes you to the point that you could never forget the feeling of Matt Murdock touching you. Sometimes it’s rough, sometimes it’s sensual, but it’s always full of unconditional love.
His sweaty skin slaps against yours. He drags his cock out of your cunt again, slowly, until only the tip remains inside, and you whimper at the loss. He grunts into your ear. The sound of your wetness collecting around his shaft, pouring down your thighs together with his pre-cum like an overfilled glass of white wine, reverberates in his ears. It drives him crazy.
Matt grunts, and he pushes back into you. The squelching sound that your slick folds make is not only audible to him. 
You convince yourself that you can feel every single vein along his cock as he fills you in a way only he can. You can feel him twitch, already so sensitive from a sloppy morning fuck—but are you even fucking or are you, in the most literal sense of the word, making love? Are you being primal and animalistic or are you being gentle with each other? It’s more of the latter, you suppose. Neither of you is in a rush. It’s early morning on a Sunday. All you need is each other after life kept you separate for most of the past week. What you have and what you are doing right now is raw, unbridled intimacy—and a primal need that you need to satiate. 
His stubble scratches against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. You moan again. The added stimulation intensifies the burning in your core. The position he has got you in allows him to go deeper, but it tightens your walls to the point it’s almost painful. It’s not unlike you to crave a little pain with pleasure.
“You’re so fucking tight like this,” Matt growls into your ear. “I can feel your pulse against my cock. Do you know how fucking lewd that sounds?”
“Oh, God!” Your eyes roll back, and your toes curl as you moan his name again and again. 
He chuckles roughly. “Never heard something more beautiful.”
“Matt, please,” you beg without knowing what you’re begging for.
You want to come. You want to clench your walls around his cock and cover him in your wetness until the sheets are soaked; you want him to fill you up with his cum until you’re stuffed to the brim, and you want him to eat it out of you like a starved caveman, but you also don’t want this to end. 
You want to keep feeling him just like this, in every ounce of your body, consuming you whole, and loving you endlessly, emotionally, and physically. 
He smiles against your heated skin. Again, he kisses your shoulder. His hand comes to rest around your throat, not squeezing but simply holding you. 
“Lift your leg for me, sweetheart,” he commands.
You inhale sharply. How could you ever disobey him? You lift your leg as he told you to, and he grabs your thighs with his hand, throwing it over his own. You’re on your side, spread wide open for him—over him. His cock hits even deeper, even further than before, and you ask yourself if that is even possible. He’s just so fucking thick. 
“There you go,” Matt purrs, his lips pressing to your ear. The sweat dripping down his temple mixes with yours and soaks into your skin. “Good girl.”
The good girl gets you. It gets you every time. Praise from him is like being praised by a higher entity. Your walls tighten in a vice grip. 
He groans. The groan is so deep it makes his chest vibrate, and his hand tightens around your neck ever so slightly. It’s enough to make you gasp. 
You cling to him. Your nails drag over the hairs on his forearm. The moan you let out sounds high-pitched and too far away to grasp, but he hears it. He hears it all.
And then Matt—that fucker—reaches his free hand between your legs and he cups your wet pussy. His cock still thrusting in and out of you scrambles the words in your brain and turns them into desperate mewls.
He curses when you clench down around him. “You take me so well,” he never fails a beat with the praise, knowing just when to use it to pull a response out of you.
You reach behind yourself to tangle your fingers in his hair. The strands are sweaty, sticking to his skin, and you wish you could see more than his stubble. You wish he would tilt his head down to kiss you. Instead, you have to press your lips to the skin of his neck, tracing your tongue over his pulse points and tugging at his hair. That is how you can taste him. 
You are needy and desperate, and your body is the one thing in control. You couldn’t form a coherent thought even if you tried. It’s just him, his hands, and his cock; he consumes you, all of you, without mercy.
Your touch burns his fuses. He whimpers. You love it when he does that. When he sounds wrecked for you. Only for you. You are the only one that can make him feel this way.
His hand disappears from your cunt. “Open,” he instructs. 
Out of instinct, you open your mouth. He slides the three fingers in the middle between your lips, pushing down on your tongue until you gag like you would on his cock. 
“That’s it. Get them nice and wet for me so I can rub your clit.”
You moan, swirling your tongue around the digits. You suck on them. The saliva drips from the corner of your mouth, down his forearm.
“Gonna make you come, okay?” Matt pants. It turns him on just how messy he can get you, and every time anew, he sees how far he can go. He gives another harsh thrust, then adds, his voice still beyond breathless, “Make you come all over my cock.” 
A strangled moan escapes him, and it is like porn to you. 
When he finally kisses your cheek, you turn your head to meet his lips. As soon as you taste him and yourself on his tongue, you’re done for.
He cups your pussy again, this time rubbing all three fingers you just sucked over your sensitive clit. You howl. Your back arches away and at the same time into his touch–you’re going to burst soon, you know it. 
As if he read your mind, he presses his fingers just below your jaw. The rhythm of his fingers on your clit matches the pounding of his cock, and he skilfully drags his thrusts along your G-spot. 
You pull at his hair. “Matt. I’m gonna–” The words are too much to utter at this time.
“I know,” he coos. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.”
“Fuck!”
“Come for me.”
The coil snaps, sending a shockwave rippling through your entire body, and drowning you in ecstasy. Your thighs quiver and you shout his name like a prayer. You’re falling, and there seems to be no end in sight. No one to catch you. 
You come long and hard, his thrusts faltering as you suck him in and clench with the sheer force of your orgasm. Instinctively, you pull your leg back to shut them and keep him trapped inside, but his hand stops you. 
“Keep your legs open,” Matt says.
You cry out. With every thrust, with every flick of his finger over your already sensitive clit, he drives you deeper into a state of overstimulation.
“I want you to give me another one, baby. One more, and I’ll fill you up. Please.”
It doesn’t take long for you to be back on that edge. You intertwine your fingers with his on your throat. The perfect necklace. 
Matt pulls out again. You tilt your hips back, forcing him back inside. “I’m gonna come,” you warn him. 
It hasn’t even been two minutes since he last made you, but he knows just how to keep you on edge. That way, he can drag several orgasms out of you, each more intense than the other. He has made it his mission to ruin you for any other man.
When you come this time, Matt lets you snap your thighs shut as your entire body shakes in his arms. You cry out, bucking your hips, and clinging to his hand, but it isn’t enough. 
He thrusts upward into you once more, and then he’s coming, too. His hot cum spurts into your cunt. For a moment, he stills completely. 
Matt sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, the copper taste exploding on both of your tongues, but a little blood has never turned you off. 
He fucks his cum into you, slowly, passionately, making sure that no drop goes to waste. Only when he’s satisfied does he stop, and he allows the two of you a moment to breathe.
Thump, thump, thump. Your heart begins to slow down. 
“Holy shit, Matthew,” you murmur. 
He chuckles, smoothing the spot where he dug his teeth into over with his tongue. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Oh, good morning, indeed.” A satisfied giggle passes your lips. “I think we just woke the neighbors.”
“What time is it?”
You peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Half past ten,” you say.
“Then it’s not a disturbance of the peace,” he states as a matter of fact. 
“It’s not?”
“Nah.” He pulls out, rolling over to pull you into his side. “A noise complaint would never hold up in court. Even if they filed one, I’m a really good lawyer,” he says, “and I will defend my wife’s pleasure until the day I die.”
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Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama
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lo1k-diamonds · 2 months
Text
SX Seoul Series | Jungkook Entry 💜 Bubbles (Part 1)
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PAIRING: Jungkook/Reader
SUMMARY: You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.
WORD COUNT: 11.6k
GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up
RATING: Explicit
WARNINGS: exes, explicit sexual content, in public, oral, slight degradation and rough cause you are both hurt
PARTS: [1] [2]
(You can also read it on AO3)
----
You smiled at the bouncer on your way inside the club and brushed a strand of dark hair behind your ear. Your group called you to follow as you got lost looking around the newest club in Itaewon. It was purposefully dark with red neon lights in wavy lines flowing in the direction of the dance floor but not before a huge sign with black and white stripes coaxed your attention with promises expanding over the several floors: SX.
“Come along.”
You smiled at your best friend and followed her and her friends to a reserved club area not too far from the bar. The Tech House music was making your ribcage hum comfortably and you sat on a couch before she turned to you again.
“I know the bartender on our side tonight! I’ll go say hi for a second!”
You nodded and watched her go as you took the space around you comfortably. The other girls were chatting, cross-checking who was there tonight and who they knew. You were used to hanging with girls like them — fun and wild at parties and clubs. You didn’t know them because you’d been away for a while, but you trusted your dearest friend to keep good company around.
Either way, you were there to have fun and enjoy being back home. You took a deep breath, the familiar scent of sweat and alcohol latching itself onto your skin before you even contemplated dancing. Everyone else was already doing it, flowing like a perfect wave in that crowd and you’d join them soon enough.
The lights were flashing all around to the generous beat making you tap your foot, and you contemplated getting up without waiting for your best friend when you saw him. Fully dressed in black in a way that avoided light and dancing so closely with a girl your guts burned with furious jealousy.
“Right? I’ve heard about him,” a girl gushed to your right. “He’s very hot.”
“You’re joking, look at that sleeve,” another one replied and your eyes immediately traced his arm. It was fuller now. “I wanna ride that bad.”
“Do you think he has other tattoos?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” one answered and they all giggled and laughed around. Your eyes never diverted from him or the way he was dancing with that girl, firm hands gripping her waist over a sparkly deeply cleavaged top.
“But you know, I’ve heard he fucks without kissing. Without even acknowledging you.”
Finally, your eyes turned to the girl sharing all the gossip and you wondered how she knew that.
“First-hand experience?” You asked with a teasing smile, just making conversation. They didn’t have to know how truly interested you were in knowing.
“No,” the other girls turned to hear more and you could see they were all charmed by the picture the girl was conjuring. “Not my kind of thing.”
The other girls teased her reply for a moment while you paid them little mind.
“Yeah, right. Look at him,” another one laughed openly. 
“He’s fucking sexy and has this cute smile,” one said almost wantonly. She was possibly voicing everyone else’s thoughts. “Face it, who wouldn’t want to touch those curls?”
“He can get any girl on her knees.”
“And a bad boy? Get serious. We’d all be lining up.”
“What if he changes?”
“What if we’re the one?”
They all giggled except you, starting to regret not having a drink in your hand.
“Guys like him don’t change.”
“Actually,” the girl with the gossip leaned forward. “Rumour is he was in a committed relationship and that when she dumped him, he did a one-eighty and never dated seriously again.”
Your friend neared you all with a tray of shots and a wide grin, “Who’s not dating seriously?”
“Whoa, what a bitch,” one replied, leaning forward to grab a glass.
“Who would waste that?”
“If I could tap that, I’d hook him around my little finger.”
Your best friend looked at you quizzically and you just twitched the corners of your mouth. You grabbed a shot glass as well while the gossip girl explained everything to your best friend. In an instant, her eyes shot to yours but you were purposefully avoidant.
“What’s his name anyway?” One of them asked, turning her back so they could toast.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
Your eyes immediately fell back on him and you ignored your friend’s worried looks. You cheered with the girls to a good and steamy night and drank the shot without much thought. It burned on its way down, but you were already burning from before, so no biggy. Who cared who he danced with, you were there to have fun too.
Your best friend called your name with a tinge of worry and all you did was smile, “I’ll go grab another round.”
You got up and adjusted your short strapless dress to make sure it covered your ass before trying to get in between the crowd to reach the bar. You didn’t have to go that far, but you couldn’t control your curiosity. As you moved in closer, you could see how he seemed taller, more built, and so buff. He had let his hair grow longer and it curled wildly around his ears, giving him an edge you found yourself liking a lot. Your lower belly was tingling already as you eyed him with hunger, especially those firm hands.
You were so hot that you were sweaty and by the time you leaned against the bar, you finally noticed something wasn’t right. The girl he was with was waving something small and flat between two fingers that she hid very quickly, and whatever it was got him angry. You knew that disgusted lip pull, and it made you smile.
He turned away from the girl and you instantly faced the bar, giving the whole scene your back. You were curious, hot, and bothered by the mere fact that he was there, that you got to see him, that there was a possibility that you would talk. It had been a while. You shouldn’t be curious, but the tingly sensation down your stomach wasn’t interested in shouldn’ts.
It was then and there that you almost took a deep breath and committed to not look his way the rest of the night. Your curiosity shouldn’t be enough, the girls gossiped way too much so you had all the information you could need, and there was really no need for your paths to intersect.
But fate wouldn’t have you choose that road tonight, it would seem. You turned to the side, curious as to where he would be, and you smiled. There were only two people in between you and an outstretched arm with a full sleeve over the bar counter. He was too close to be ignored, and you just couldn’t.
You made your way to him and luckily the two people between you had just gotten their drinks and were ready to leave. Jungkook didn’t notice you getting near because the bartender was listening to his order and you just leaned on the bar counter by his side.
“Order for me too, will you?”
He turned to you and his face was worth a million words. His lips parted to make way for air, but he wasn’t breathing, and that was when you noticed the lip ring. His skin was perfectly immaculate, the sweetness you’d recognize anywhere in the tender swell of his cheeks. Higher, his normally lovely eyes were wide in shock as he took in your presence. His eyebrows twitched and you noticed another piercing, which along with the new ones on his lip made you smile as you leaned to support your head on your hand. He was still figuring out if you were a ghost while you were in wonderland, wondering what had happened to all that sweetness.
“Here you go,” the bartender placed a whiskey cola on the counter and you turned quickly before Jungkook could react.
“Can you get me one too, please?”
You were already waving your credit card and the bartender acquiesced without wasting a beat.
It was the moment Jungkook needed to grab his drink and shug half of it like he was dying of thirst. Or maybe he just really needed a drink after seeing you.
“Thirsty are we?” You asked, reaching for the glass from his hand and taking a couple of sips while never breaking away from his darkened eyes. The ice-cold drink had you blinking for a second, thankful for the refreshing sensation down your chest. “You always liked them sweet.”
You placed his glass near his hand again before turning to smile at the bartender retourning with your card and your drink.
“You’re here.”
It wasn’t a question and if you weren’t interested in reading his lips, you might have missed it. So you smiled, letting the nostalgia fill you up in a nice kind of way. You had missed the little twitches of his lips while he mused or the way he scratched his nose bridge softly when he was embarrassed or at a loss.
“I am. How are you?”
His eyes were focused on the drink and he scoffed at your question, reaching to drink the rest of it. That was the first time you doubted this could end well. There was a bitterness in his features that dragged yours out of the deepest corners of you where you wished it would remain buried.
“Why are you here?”
Your lips twitched, “New club in Seoul.”
He sneered, “There were many new clubs in Seoul over the last year. Never crossed you before.”
“You know I wasn’t here.”
Your eyes locked and yours had all the meaning they could have. You weren’t in Seoul, so you couldn’t have crossed ways before. But you were here now.
He looked down and licked his lower lip while kicking the bar pensively. You let him process the fact that you were there in the flesh while you drank. When he looked up at you again, you caught his eyes and passed him your drink. He took a second but he grabbed it, turning to the bar to down it while you leaned into his ear.
“Dance with me.”
He looked out of the corner of his eye at you and you pulled back, waiting. You weren’t as crazy as anyone could assume, you knew the options. He could outright laugh in your face and move away like you were a plague, and it would hurt, but you would understand. 
You kept your eyes locked on his, riding that heartbeat as you waited. You also knew that he could take you up on that offer, dance with you, and who knew what else. And it wasn’t as much as for the mystery, or a challenge, or anything of the like. You didn’t want him for any of those vain reasons. You wanted so much more.
He gave you a short nod and placed your empty glass next to his, with only the ice left. You gave him a cheeky smile before turning to go deeper into the crowd, far away and in the middle so that your best friend wouldn’t see you and advise you to be wise and think twice. What could you tell her; the moment fate challenged you with the chance of meeting him, you instantly lost.
You never turned back to check if he was following, you just assumed he did. You stopped with the flashing lights, sweating bodies, and thrumming music all around you, and you closed your eyes. You wanted his hands on you, his arms around you, his waist so close you’d be indistinguishable. You craved his presence, slick pooling at the thought of it alone.
So when two firm hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back flush against a firm chest, snaking arms holding your stomach and going up your sternum like they owned you, all you could do was freefall into him, releasing a moan that you knew he could have never heard, but he surely felt.
He hid his nose in your hair, lulling you two to the beat, and you melted against him. He was always a good dancer, the way he rolled his hips to guide yours reminding you of far sweeter times. His hand reached your chest and rested there, and you thanked the dark, the loud music, the crowd, the alcohol, the moment. It was in those moments that the deepest desires came out, hiddenly safely away. Only the two of you knew: how he was brushing his nose and lips on your neck, and how you were grabbing his arms to close around you tighter.
“When did you come back?” His lips were so close to your ear that a wave of shivers ran down your neck.
“Two days ago.”
His arms around you had you losing yourself further and further. You couldn’t care less what the music was or where you were. All you wanted was that chance and you were greedy.
“Are you alone?”
You sank your nails into his skin, “Youngjoo is here.” He didn’t react but you knew he would remember your best friend. “Are you?”
You forced the words out of you. You almost didn’t want to know, especially after what the girls were gossiping about. Maybe they were wrong and he was dating someone seriously. But then he would have never been dancing with that girl before, so maybe the rumors were true. And on that end, you had very mixed feelings.
He didn’t answer but he didn’t move away either. You loved everything as it was: every inch of his skin glued to yours, his lips ghosting your neck, his hands seconds away from groping you and making you beg.
But eventually, you needed more. You needed an answer. You’d beg, gladly, but not if he had his thoughts on someone else.
So you turned in his arms, the short dress allowing you to easily glue your bodies together as you hid near his ear. “Answer me,” you cooed, brushing his neck with your fingers until you were embracing and grazing his scalp with your nails. You leaned the side of your face on him, his sweat not bothering you for an instant. It reminded you of what it was like to feel him that close while on his lap. When he would fuck into you, sweetly and strongly until every breath was a moany whimper, and you buried your fingers just like that to keep him close. His delectable scent would invade you then and envelope you tightly in everything Jungkook-related until all there was left was his coarse words tensing the coil in your—
He breathed near your ear and you lost your breath, sighing instantly after when he said nothing.
“Answer me,” you asked again. This time you nuzzled his ear and pressed yourself even closer, “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re by yourself, that you have no plans, no one waiting at home, nothing stopping you from doing this,” you let out all your deepest desires, carried out by the close and delirious moment. 
His hand was pressing up your spine and nape as you spoke until it latched onto your hair but it didn’t pull you away. You had moved by yourself to be as close as you could, breaths fanning each other’s faces as you waited for his reply. 
You waited and longed, and tried not to rub your body flush against that familiar warmth that you were craving like the air you breathed. Unmistakably, your body betrayed you by leaning closer and closer until your noses grazed briefly, and that was when you felt the pull. His hand pulled your head back by your hair and you opened your glistening eyes, teeth deep into your lower lip with utmost desire, only to find his dark eyes and rigid expression. And that was enough to shake you and put out in the open everything you wished had stayed hidden: he was angry.
Suddenly, you remembered very well the last time you saw him. How much it hurt him, and you. How much of a coward you had been. How much you didn’t deserve a drop of his attention, let alone his time, touch, or warmth. 
He let you go slowly as memories you thought no longer haunted you came rushing back, making you swallow a lump. And you smiled, because how could you not? He was angry, so very clearly, and you deserved it.
Your bodies were finally separated and despite the happiness in your chest at having had the chance to see him, your knees were weak and your legs wobbly. You couldn’t do this.
“I’m sorry,” you voiced, hoping that your expression conveyed how much you meant those words. For now. For before.
And you turned to leave with a deep breath. Were you running away? Yes. In a way, from the anger you created in him and the regret in yourself. From the chance of being rejected head-on, which you knew you had coming but you had never been the brave kind, so you couldn’t face it. You could even agree he deserved to have the pleasure, but you were far too selfish to let him have it. No. You’d remain the bitch who dumped him and couldn’t face the consequences, which was exactly why you were leaving. 
It was chilly outside but it didn’t matter, you were too hot from all the emotions — the excitement and the shame and regret. You stepped to the street where you knew that among the cars stopping and passing you’d eventually catch a taxi dropping people off and took out your phone to text your best friend that you were leaving.
You had just hit send when someone grabbed your arm and you offered resistance, ready to fight whoever dared to try to grab you and—
Familiar dark eyes faced you back and you instantly let your body fall to his chest. His jawline was still firm as he clenched it, angry eyes stiffening his face, but you still let yourself get drawn in like a magnet to a polar opposite. You knew he was mad, knew he had reasons to hate you, despise you, treat you worse than the girls he fucked without kissing or acknowledging, but fuck were you—
He stepped back and dragged you along and you offered no resistance. You had no idea where he was taking you as he walked you down the street tightly by the arm, hiding his grip between you as you walked. You looked up at him, ignoring if you’d trip and fall with such high heels. He looked angry, and you cursed yourself for thinking it looked hot as hell on him. 
He pulled you into a dimly lit back alley that led to a residential area and stopped you just behind a hidden corner covered by a parked car. Your back hit the wall and you looked up at him while grabbing the chain strap of your bag over your head so it wouldn’t be in the way. 
That thought repeated itself — he looked hot as hell. You didn’t like that he was angry with you, but that tension on him was sexy as fuck and you wanted to be the one to relax him. To let him take out his frustration on you until he was vulnerable and sweet like you always remembered him.
Those were the thoughts in your mind when you raised your hands to touch him but he slapped them away harshly. You didn’t have time to react about it though because a second later he caged your face in his hands and crashed his mouth to yours, pressing you between him and the wall. 
The cold wall was nothing when you were burning inside out. His mouth was hungry on yours and you paid him back in kind, getting your tongue to meet his just as eagerly. Your hands gripped his shoulders closely while you tried not to let the lightheadedness get you, but it was too late. All you wanted was happening right now, you’d keep kissing him and reaching for him until the end.
His hands lowered to your curves as his lips trailed down your jawline and you moaned when he squeezed your chest harshly. You pulled him closer, you wanted it all, and when he humped his erection to your hip, all you could think to do was beg.
“Yes,” you breathed, feeling how hard he was through both your clothes, from head to base. “Fuck me right now. Please.”
His lips quickly came to yours, if to shut you up or not you couldn’t tell. Either way, he gave you enough space to reach his waist, unbutton his pants and grab his cock firmly. He rutted your hand with wanton groans into your neck, and you felt like the world was yours. If you could have him, then you wouldn’t complain or whine ever again. If that thick cock would stretch you again like you wished so badly, then you’d shut up about everything wrong in this world because absolutely nothing would be wrong ever again.
Maybe he heard your prayers because suddenly he grabbed your hips and tapped them for you to instinctively jump on his lap. You supported yourself on his shoulders while he kissed you and let you play with his lip rings, rolling your tongue over them. Meanwhile, you could feel but not exactly know what he was doing at your waist level in between your two bodies. Only when he put the condom wrap near his mouth so he could rip it open with his teeth did you realize there was a good reason to interrupt your make-out session. 
You let him have his focus while he put it on, lazily brushing your lips over his forehead, right until he searched for your panties only to rudely pull them to the side and push himself inside you almost instantly. You groaned with a hint of a whine at the burn, but soon he made you jump on his lap, piercing his cock fully into you and you let your head fall back. Fuck, had you missed this.
You didn’t have time to let the pleasure reach every corner of you, but your enjoyment was not cut short. His hips snapped into yours and your chin dropped, eyes hooded when you realized that was how you were going to get him. He did it again, grabbing your shoulder and hip into place and the corners of your mouth twitched. You almost smiled before biting your lip as he started a paced rhythm that didn’t give you a second’s rest. 
His angry eyes were on you as the slaps echoed into the night along with your stifled moans until you couldn’t care. Who cared if someone found Jungkook fucking your brains out? You wanted him to, dreamed of it, remembered it, had wished on all your lucky stars you would one day get to feel that way again. And now? Fuck if you cared who caught you. That thick cock ramming into you was the sweetest thing—
He grabbed your hair to pull your face to kiss him and you kept on moaning into his mouth. His tongue didn’t meet the reception he wanted, and you blamed the way he was fucking into you so hard you couldn’t even focus on breathing. Maybe it aggravated him or it just gave him his next idea, but in a second he was kissing down your neck, which had you grabbing his head close so he would keep going.
Suddenly he yanked the upper part of your dress and as it didn’t have stripes, the elastic gave in and let the fabric slide. He did the same on the strapless bra, not stopping his hips for a second, until your chest was out in the open, bouncing with every thrust.
He buried his face between your tits, licking and bitting for a moment in which you knew you were dripping slick down both him and you and you fucking loved it. Your haze was so up in the clouds you couldn’t be bothered to come down until he did something that shook your heart.
He tightened your legs around his waist, leaned in an angle so he could hold you firmly against the wall, and fuck you in a way that rubbed your clit just like you loved it. Instantly, the way he dragged over it and reached deep inside with his cock had you moaning breathlessly. Then he straightened up, carefully perfecting his movements until your mouth was open and you were jumping on his lap with him to the best of your abilities. He knew he had you in the right spot, you were squirming but desperate to stay close, moaning and completely lost, trying to sink your nails into his skin but weak to the sensations leaving you adrift. He reveled in that, with such pride swelling inside him he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from grabbing both your tits and squeezing them harshly.
He felt the way you tensed around his cock and he knew he had you. With every snap of his hips, your eyes closed further, your moans became breathy, and your legs pulled him more in. He knew he could squeeze you to the point it bruised without as much as a whimper, but he stayed clear from doing it, taking pleasure only in the way his cock was so deep inside you that he knew you’d never forget it.
You took your hands to his over your chest and then it hit you that only he could do you like this. Only he knew every little thing that you liked, only he knew how to grope and squeeze without hurting you, only he knew exactly how to fuck you into oblivion every time. Because it was him.
Fuck, it’s him. After so long—
You tried reaching for him, but your hand dropped to his shoulder as you let the orgasm shake you and steal away your inhibitions if there ever were any. You closed your eyes and felt his body press closer to you, almost as if to hide you from the world as you moaned and cursed him for releasing you like this. He fucked you through it, then hid in your neck when it came to his, grunting and holding you tightly. You grinned and petted his head when he stilled, blissful with having him tucked deep inside you again.
Until he cursed into your neck and you weren’t sure if it was out of giddiness, delight, relaxation, or relief like it would have been for you, or if it was because he was pissed at himself.
When he let you down a bit more abruptly than you anticipated, you were left only with a stronger doubt.
He turned to the side to get rid of the condom and you took the time to put your bra and dress back in place. When he turned back to face you, you had already grabbed your bag from the floor and were just looking at him. Your lips twitched — he looked so fucking handsome with that spark in his eyes. 
He cursed, then ruffled his hair for a moment before looking at you again, “I’ll take you home.”
You pulled your hair neatly back and pursed your lips, “I’m staying at Youngjoo’s. I don't have a place yet, so we… wouldn’t have privacy.”
He openly snorted, “You're assuming I want seconds.”
You sighed with a light shrug, “Isn't that what we just did?”
His derision fell through as his features hardened again but you didn't budge. You did what you did and didn't regret it for a second. You were both adults and he followed you, there was no point in pretending you didn't want each other. That was what you asked for and what he had given you, whether that made him angry or not.
But you didn't want to antagonize him. You gave him a short nod, “It's okay, I can—”
He clicked his tongue and gave you a dry look before giving you a nod to follow him. You considered for a second if you should — if it made him so angry, maybe you shouldn't. But tonight you were giving 0 fucks about shouldn’ts. You were doing what you wanted and what you wanted was your hands on him for as long as possible. 
So when he stopped next to a red motorcycle and opened the seat compartment to get you a helmet, you smirked. You wouldn't tell him, but you missed exactly that — hugging him while he sped between every single obstacle and your hair flowed behind you with the wind. When you were free to go mad fast but remained safe as you could only feel with him.
He sat first, putting on his helmet expertly and starting the motor in a well-rehearsed move. You had seen him do it before when you were still together, but there was a certain magic in seeing that even if he changed, some things didn’t.
He leaned his head ever so slightly to glance at you and you smirked, finally getting on behind him and gripping him firmly. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you were feeling daring — and he looked back. He checked on you, despite the derision and silences. You took the small win.
“You remember where Youngjoo lives?” You ask in a bit of a shout as he is looking at the road to finally get on it.
He didn’t answer you, but seeing the direction he took, you immediately assumed he remembered. And with this, you allowed yourself to just lean closer, wrap your arms tighter around his torso, and relax. Inhale his scent unapologetically by sticking your face into his shoulder maybe a bit too much; the helmet was big and he surely felt it. Palm his chest and torso over his jacket; you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. You were petty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop and get angry with you or snap your hands away. Knowing this was perhaps the last chance you’d ever have to touch him, so you did. Wrong or right, it didn’t matter to you. You’d remember this later and all the little sensations and you’d be happy you did.
You were lulled by his warm body and the drum of the motor raging on, so you paid little attention to where he was going. All you knew was that when he stopped and pushed a button for a communal garage to open at the foot side of an apartment complex it was not Youngjoo’s place.
He rode more softly through the cars parked underground until he found his spot and stopped. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t need to. You stepped out of the bike and handed him your helmet, and he took it and put it back, the both of you quiet. You made sure to remain quiet and you followed him, small as a mouse, into the elevator lobby, then inside one where he pressed the seventh floor, and even when the doors closed with only the two of you there.
Your mind was roaring on about him bringing you to his place and the only reason he would have to do that, and your chest would soon explode. With every passing minute ever since you laid eyes on him, it felt like you were living a dream. Only in dreams did you think you’d ever have the chance of being near him, so no matter what, you were winging it. Living the moment, even if all of this turned out to be an angry fuck, you’d gladly get on your back.
He typed the code to unlock an apartment door and you followed him inside, cheekiness left outside in the night right before you got into the bike and decided to make the most of your time with him. He threw the motorcycle keys on a table you couldn’t see because it was dark and turned on the lights, making you hold your breath. He had moved to that place, that much was certain, but even his space didn’t remind you of Jungkook as you expected it to.
You had only taken the step to peep into his home, you meant to turn back and take your shoes off as it was respectful to do, but he was a step ahead. You stepped out of the way to exchange places with him right after he got his jacket on the hanger, but he had something else in mind. His hands followed your movement to your waist, and as soon as you looked up, eager lips were searching for yours.
You instantly melted against the wall, hands raising to run through his hair as you let yourself dive into that contentment again. While you were relaxed, he was clearly impatient. His palms traced your curves in wide but quick movements, so firmly you knew you could have already been naked, he was learning the same. His tongue was inside your mouth almost as quickly as his body pressed to yours, stealing your thoughts and any possibility you ever had to change your mind. Not that you would, and you were sure he knew that. Your hands were gripping him close, your breathing was heavy and dragged and you weren’t fighting his kiss in the slightest, on the contrary. Your tongue was inviting him, your body was arching to expose more skin, you were taking what you could and you’d give whatever he wanted.
But then he broke the kiss and looked down, forcing you to stop as well. You looked at him under wanton fluttering lashes only to find him with that same stiff and reticent expression you had seen before. 
Your first heartbeat stung — you could guess why he was hesitating and there was nothing you could do about it now.
The second revolted you — you were there, weren’t you? In his house? He brought you here, so why worry? Why hesitate? Why overthink?
The third got you annoyed — if he was that hesitant, why bring you there in the first place? Why bother?
The fourth rilled you up, and that was when you spoke, “What’s wrong?”
He refused to look up at you but never moved away.
His breathing was calming down and you spoke without thinking, “Changed your mind?”
His eyes finally moved to yours and you saw his anger. And again, like a well-rehearsed exercise, all you could think was how you were right there.
“I’m here,” you said quietly, reaching for the curling strands of hair under his ear.
He didn’t move, eyes fixed on the corner of your lips, and you knew he was forcing himself to stay like this.
“I can leave,” he finally said. “You can sleep here and I can leave.”
“Why?”
He finally looked up at your eyes as you let your head fall back to the wall in a languid movement.
“This is your place, why leave?”
His jaw tensed and you could swear you saw a vein pulsing.
You sighed, “You brought me here so here I am. What do you want to do? Fuck me until morning? Gladly. Just sleep? I’m sure you have a big bed. Drink until we pass out? I’m down. Talk?” His eyebrows twitched and you nodded. “Not sure how that would work, but we can. Or not. I won't say another word if you don’t want me to. Just stop this internal struggle of yours. Do what you want to do.”
You were as comfortable as could be between him and the wall and just waited for his decision. Your eyes stayed on his pensive expression, taking in the little details before going down to trace his wide shoulders and biceps. He was definitely more buff and you wondered if it changed things a lot or—
“You can shower first.”
He backed away from you and you couldn’t help your expression sobering up. He looked almost apologetic, hiding something deep inside while showing you something you could only call a mask.
But you knew him. All those women thirsting after him, wishing they could make him smile and fall for them didn’t know him like you did. For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.
So you nodded and stepped towards the bathroom, but not before turning around midway, “Please don’t leave.”
The look you gave him was enough — pleading whereas his eyes flickered with an emotion you had not yet seen on him. But even if you wanted to press it and ask, you didn’t. At the end of the day, it was still his choice and you were well aware of it.
You took a calming shower, cleaning the sweat and alcohol from your skin with a shower gel that smelled of him and wondering what your next step should be. You ended up deciding that if he had left despite your request, you would call a taxi and go back to Youngjoo’s. You honestly hoped as you toweled yourself that he would tell you to leave and be clear about it instead of leaving to give you space at the expense of his comfort.
You glanced around the bathroom and ignored your discarded dress and heels in the corner, searching for something else instead. Your eyes fell on a black tee thrown over the laundry basket but that didn’t quite make it in. You grabbed it and brought it to your nose, shutting your eyes instantly with a longing grimace — it smelled of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the mess of feelings that his very existence created in you, but the tears in your eyes were enough.
You quickly put it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. He always enjoyed oversized clothes, which on you looked like two of you could fit. Your lips curved as you smoothed the fabric over your stomach, his scent gracing your senses every time you took a breath. Nothing beat that comfort.
You turned to leave the bathroom and hoped to find Jungkook still there. You hoped he’d let you keep the tee, though you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it off if it would be replaced with his strong arms—
The scent of coffee hit your nose quickly once in the living room and your brow furrowed. Not because it was coffee, Jungkook liked coffee, but because when you neared the kitchen, your guts twisted. On the counter, you saw a fuming mug and the cinnamon smell instantly teared you up. That plus the bottle of soymilk and the honey pot pushed to the back told you many things: he had those things he never really drank before laying around, he remembered your favorite latte, and he made it for you.
Your eyes jumped to his back; he was looking outside the kitchen window and by the intense coffee scent around him, you knew before he turned that he was having a black expresso.
He looked at you and your guts turned; all you could do was look into his eyes while your fingers gripped the hem of his shirt on you. You were tearing up in a way you couldn’t control, everything was too much. He didn’t leave. You were there, in his life, in his home, wearing his clothes, having your favorite drink that he prepared for you because he still remembered how. That meant he had to care, even if just a little, and you didn’t know what to say but—
Your chin trembled but before you voiced anything, he finished his coffee, put the empty cup in the sink, and passed you to enter the bathroom. The door merely clicked closed and you covered your eyes, trying to reel your emotions back in. You stepped to the counter to grab your coffee and as soon as the taste hit your tongue, your heart shook, creasing lines between your eyebrows as you teared up.
You didn’t want to have hope, but your stupid heart was turning a deaf ear. You never had hope before, you knew you fucked up and never handled things properly, and for the way you hurt him, you knew you didn’t deserve any kindness. You scoffed at yourself and drank more to have the comfort of that warmth down your chest as if it came straight from him. You knew and it made no sense but you were still there and you were willing to delude yourself for a moment longer.
So you took your mug and the opportunity to look around while you heard the shower noise faintly in the background. His place was bigger now and you looked around with a smile on your face. He had the same black leather couch, the same grey bean bag, and the same shoebox by the entrance. The fact that he had a projector screen instead of a TV made you smile, he spoke for ages that he wanted to do that if he ever moved out. But as you took in the rest of the place, your smile broke a little.
On the corner, there was a barbell weight set, dumbbells, a pull-up bar, and resistance bands. He used to work out before, but now you knew why he looked bigger — he definitely worked out more now. You pursed your lips with the sweet latte comforting you as you sipped it slowly; you didn’t want to think about why he was making that effort.
You moved on to peep at his desk, interested in what he was working on, and you stilled. He still had his gaming keyboard, mouse, and desktop, but now he had books about photography on the desk. He always liked photography and filmmaking, but the new camera and microphone spoke volumes about what he was working on at the moment. You searched around for the easel he’d always have with a recent work in progress or his sketch notebook but you couldn’t find them, and so you pressed your lips. You loved it when sketched you, always when you least expected it, showing you beautiful versions of yourself you only started believing because of him.
You finished the coffee, eager for the sweet trace to link you back to him — you wondered what happened to—
You turned when you heard the bathroom door opening, you never noticed he had stopped showering. Your thoughts tripped over themselves at the sight of him: wet raven hair ruffled by a towel you couldn’t see, dark eyes set on you as if he wanted to make sure he was seeing right, soft golden skin covering wide shoulders and swollen arms, chest, leading to firm abs that were always there, but not as marked. Your eyes lowered, but the black towel was hanging on to his hip like you could only envy.
You raised your eyes to find him serious, looking at you, tense features on a tense body. 
“Thank you,” you smiled at him, waving the empty mug before placing it down. You swallowed a lump at the view of him walking towards you, despite his demeanor. “It’s my favorite—”
You weren’t startled when he grabbed your head and crashed his mouth to yours. You were praying for it to happen, and the burn running down your chest from the way your mouths tried to consume one another had you melting instantly. You wanted him, you weren’t hiding it, and whatever way he wanted to touch you worked as long as he did. As long as those lips pressing yours covered all of you. As long as his tongue fighting yours soon spelled your pleasure at his whim while his fingers pressed marks only he could trace on you.
Your hands moved to those wide shoulders that had your knees wobbly and he pushed them away before forcing your head up to face him better. He wanted your focus on your kiss only and you didn’t mind, but the temptation to grab him and scratch him was overriding your senses. You tried again, but this time he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him. You gripped his shoulders for support, finally sinking your nails in the soft muscle just like he was taking small bites out of your bottom lip.
Your ass hit something and when he pushed you on it, you just briefly freed one hand to throw whatever was on the dining table behind you off to have some space. You moaned with the bites he was leaving down your neck while you focused on keeping him close with your legs wrapped around him. He fumbled with the tee shirt to get his hands on you and quickly grabbed your chest in a push-and-squeeze motion that had you moaning and humping him. Fuck, you missed this. No one could ever mess you up like he could, you always turned into a whimpering wet mess with him.
He scratched down your stomach to your hips, squeezing them harshly, then pulled away. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and you raised your arms instantly to let him strip you.
He stepped back and threw the shirt on the floor, hungry dark eyes eying you from head to toe.
“Fuck, look at you.”
A subtle line showed between your eyebrows; his tone was abrasive in a way you weren’t familiar with. But the way he stepped back between your legs while getting on his knees was much more in line with what you knew. Him in a praying position tracing your skin with open-mouthed kisses while he groped and scratched every inch of you was one of the reasons you couldn’t forget him. You couldn’t let go of what it felt like to be desired by that man. The thought alone had you wet and whimpering, the only difference was that now you’d experience it again after only dreams and hopes.
His mouth kept tracing kisses on your inner thighs, just like he knew would drive you crazy, but you didn’t whine about it. No, you wanted it to last. Whatever he’d give to you, you wanted everything. You weren’t beyond begging, but you wouldn’t just with a little bit of torture. No, you knew how that mouth would move on you, how his tongue would lap at the perfect rhythm. You could wait for perfection.
He slapped your ass on one side, opening your leg further with a whimper from you. He repeated the motion on the other side and only then did you notice you were squeezing him between your legs. It made you smirk as you looked down — you could see his dark eyes with a few wet hair strands over them, the hint of teeth as he grazed your sensitive inner thighs. He could spank you all he wanted, you wanted him to. So you smiled and pressed your lips, clearly telling him that you’d keep your mouth shut.
He bit down, getting a deep moan from you. You were clenching around nothing, dripping with slick, and you were sure he noticed.
“Since when are you so patient?”
He sounded annoyed and you giggled wantonly, so fucking amused you couldn’t help it. “I’m patient when it’s worth it.” You could feel his hands pressing your skin, going to the swell of your ass to squeeze, and you nearly sighed. “I wouldn’t dare rush perfection.”
He scoffed but dropped his mouth on you instantly, having all your cockiness evaporating on the spot. He ate you like only he did, grabbing your squirmy self still while he made out with you. His tongue lapped at your clit in a fixed rhythm that you couldn’t explain and seconds later you released every square inch of air from inside your lungs with a deep moan. He knew you liked a stable slow rhythm, but keeping your thighs in place was irking you. It was right there! If only he’d let you move. Just a centemeter right— No! Just one or two to the left and you’d be lost to those sensations you hadn’t felt in months.
You whimpered, but you couldn’t talk while he did that to you. You reached for his hands on your hips and squeezed them, both looking for support and for a way to be free. His humming to your core had you sucking in a breath, but what broke you were his words.
“Stay still, bubbles. Let me get you there.”
And he licked you faster, keeping pressure on you with his mouth that had you whimpering and tensing up like a coil about to spring. Every lap of his tongue increased your tension, pitched your moan, and stole your breath, to a point you thought you’d explode. You sat up in your tension and grabbed his hair, ecstatic. It was him with his face half buried in you, eating you, getting you there, calling you by your pet name like nothing changed.
That thought alone pushed you to the edge and you hopped on the train. Steadily and surely, Jungkook would take you there just like he promised. Just like you wished.
So you started moaning louder, half derailed, “Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so good.” You could barely breathe, but you wanted him to know how much you loved this. “Take me there, please, I’m—”
Your voice broke because you suddenly were cold. You were panting and shocked, but your first instinct was to look down at him and loosen up your grip on his hair.
“Are you okay?”
He faced you and stayed silent, with your slick covering his nose, mouth, and chin while his digits dag at your hips. Your worry was clouding you, having your hand brush his cheek in search of an answer that only came when he stood up and turned away. Then, you blinked to reality and looked down and around. You were confused. Not because he stopped, but because he insisted on staying quiet and to himself.
You got up and were about to speak your mind when you saw that the towel had fallen to the ground. That gave you the impulse to walk up to him and look down shamelessly — he was so hard he was pointing at you. You raised your eyes and found his on yours, darker than before. He was tense and angry, that was clear, but he was hard, having rubbed his hand over his face to clean your slick off him. But then, why was he licking his lips and his lip rings, where your taste was probably stronger?
You took a deep breath and placed your hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him steadily. He let you, walking back at your will until his calves hit the sofa. You tapped his shoulders once and he sat down. His hands were on your hips and started tracing circles absentmindedly, and you leaned closer to pet his hair. His sweet caresses were enough to soothe you, to become sure of something you weren't sure you had the right to be sure of. But it didn't matter — he chose the wrong night to be indecisive. You were willing to choose for you both.
You kissed his head before getting on your knees in between his legs. He gave you a dark cold stare and with anyone else you might have cowered, but not with him. You waited a moment with your hands over his legs, but he never gave you clear permission, incentive, or rejection. So you took the option that suited you best and leaned in.
You trailed your lips over his soft and built thighs, kneading the firmness with a whimper caught in your throat. You kissed closer and closer, releasing sighs left and right and paying little to no mind to what he would think of you for it. You both had always been like this: crazy for one another, praising and worshiping as quickly as you would use and abuse. You had never had another relationship like it, before or after, and to say you missed it would be an understatement.
But you weren’t going to sob over past mistakes right now. No, what mattered now was to not make a stupid mistake like not kissing, licking, and scratching every inch of him until he either begged or complained or you lost it.
You moved ever so closer to his crotch but stopped by his balls first, giving them wide-tongued licks that had him sighing. You glanced up to see his eyes closed, wet hair dripping down his shoulders, and the first hint of relaxation from him. That’s it, you coed in your mind. Fuck did you miss seeing him falling apart, you craved it and you’d do it.
You kept licking and kissing and as you moved up his shaft it occurred to you that it didn’t matter that you hadn’t come. It didn’t matter if he had given up or even why. You weren't opening your mouth around his tip and licking it with hunger because you wanted something in return.
You moaned as soon as that taste hit your buds and your thoughts became a blur. You bobbed your head mindlessly, drooling over him, using the expanse of your tongue on his tip, taking whatever you could no matter how because you fucking missed it. That taste, that hardness, the hand that came to grip your head but remained light as a feather, and finally, you looked up. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure with his mouth agape, tongue peaking through, and licking his lip ring while grabbing your head in a firm yet loving gesture — that was it, the prize. He was finally relaxed as you bobbed your head and drooled all over him and the perspective of making him weak exhilarated you in a way that had you going harder, firmer, stronger. You didn’t notice, but you were breathing in between his cock touching your throat, your cheeks stayed hollowed, and your hand accompanied your every move over his shaft while you played with his balls. When his precum invaded your mouth, all your thoughts went out the door.
You gripped his cock firmer and moaned all over it, adjusting your posture to focus even better. Fuck, did you want his taste in your mouth. You touched yourself to the thought of it before, of him, but now being there on your knees with his grunts finally adoring your ears, your focus was all on him. You could come later to the memory of that very moment, all he had to do was let go and shoot warm ropes of cum down your throat.
But he recoiled away and guided your head away. You had no idea if he pulled your hair, but you knew he never asked you to stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were grunts of pleasure and you had seen his face — he was on cloud nine with you. He liked it, he was weak for it, for you and the way you did it, so why?
You looked up, an arched eyebrow quizzically raised, but he had his bicep covering his eyes while his chest heaved up and down. You were done with him stripping away everything you wanted from you, so you got up and got on his lap with a knee on either side of him. You thought he might have shooed you away or told you to get off, but no. His hands went instantly to support your hips and you were even more irked.
“Why?”
He opened his eyes and the stiffness was back to his pleasant features. That had you pouting with tears in your eyes. Maybe you could figure out why, but you didn’t care — you leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently. He brought you there, he wasn’t rejecting you, pulling you away, or anything like that. It was time he made a decision.
“Why push me away?” You insisted, letting your nail graze his sweet cheek gently. He recognized that tone in your voice, and that was why he answered.
“I was about to cum.”
“So?”
He didn’t answer, his eyes only hardened, and you looked down at his erect cock between you. There were so many things you could say, and so many paths to choose from. You could get angry, whiny, blow him anyway, ride him, and you considered every option. But you kept reverting to that anger behind those beautiful dark eyes. And as you both faced each other, you knew why he was mad — because you hurt him the year before. Because what you were doing was maybe a source of conflict, it sure could have been for you as well if you didn’t still…
Well.
Your expression softened as you leaned to close your lips near the skin of his forehead, “Take it out on me.”
He didn’t move or respond and you just dragged your lips soothingly over his skin in small peppered kisses.
“Please,” you whispered. “Take it all out on me. I want you to.” You dragged your nails up his neck and he leaned his head forward. “I need you to.”
His hands gripped your waist as he seemed to hide in your chest and you sat closer to him. You petted his beautifully longer hair, still wet under your touch, and sighed when he pressed your back to keep you close. You smiled and kissed his head, taking that as a yes. So you waited like that until he decided how he would do it.
Your answer came when he glued his mouth to your chest and started nibbling down until he caught a nipple. You didn’t hide your sigh — he was a tits kind of guy and he always loved yours, worshiping them in every sense of the word. And you had always loved him for it and for the way he could leave you a moaning mess with his attention there only.
So you hissed and sighed with his mouth, tongue, and teeth driving you insane. To return the favor, you reached down in between your bodies and found his rock-hard boner. Your spit was drying, but not yet, so you jerked him off gently through your pitchy moans.
You could feel him twitching in your hand. You knew he loved your tits and got lost in licking and biting them. You knew he got crazy when you played with him at the same time, playing with his weakness while truthfully wanting nothing more than for him to play with all of you.
So you leaned down by his ear. “Come on,” you whispered in a low tone. “Take it out on me. Do it.” You gripped him a bit harder, earning a stronger bite from him that had you instantly hissing and clenching around nothing. “I want to feel you.” Your hand never stopped and he seemed to be listening to you — only his tongue was moving. “Hard. Deep. Fuck it all out on me.”
You buried your nose in his hair and waited, never stopping your hand on him. You’d prefer he fucked you senseless, but even jerking him off would be nice if that was his mood.
But you doubted it was, and indeed, it wasn’t. He let go of your abused nipple and faced you for a second. He didn’t comment on anything you said, he only grabbed you firmly by the hips and stood up, taking you with him.
You gasped mutely and hugged him strongly, only to realize that he was carrying you without an ounce of effort. He was truly stronger, which could mean he would fuck you harder—
He dropped you on his bed, making you whimper and your tits bounce around, then moved away. You sat up, worried about him just leaving, but then you tilted your head. He was adjusting a full-body mirror that was purposefully facing another wall to show the bed. You saw your reflection on it and mused over why he had that mirror set like that and took the time to change it. 
He neared you while rolling a condom and you looked at him, breath slowing with the perspective of what would happen now. He traced a hand down your hip and you laid back, but he immediately gripped both your sides and turned you around. You puffed, half annoyed half melting at being handled like that, and got on all fours for him. You thought he’d toy with you and you’d patiently wait for what you wanted most, but he didn’t. He instantly put his cock at your entrance and you groaned, gripping the sheets with the desire bursting through you.
“You want it?” His tone was quiet but sure, almost cold. His hand struck your ass but you only gave him a gentle moan. “Get it then.”
You bit your lip and moved back, opening your mouth with the familiar stretch that had you curling your toes. You went slowly, thankful for his resistance that allowed his cock to brave more and more, inch by inch, until you felt full. You knew he wasn’t totally in, and he reminded you by jerking his hips once until he bottomed out. You gave him a little whine and he chuckled.
“There. Didn’t think you had forgotten how I fucked you a second ago, but I’ll remind you.”
He snapped his hips into yours and you knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but you didn’t care. He was doing what you asked, finally connected to you, giving you the pleasure of your dreams. It didn’t matter if he was treating you roughly, you asked for it. You wanted it, you needed it. Him, his anger, anything he would give you.
“Look at you,” he grunted before gripping your ass better. “I haven’t even started.”
You opened your eyes and tilted your head to face him through the mirror. You gave zero fucks about how vulnerable you were, needy, greedy, whimpering, and begging for more even though you knew how much more could come. No, you looked at him. At his focused expression telling you this wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. At his flexed abs, tense thighs, and buff biceps. At his hand on your ass, squeezing. At his eyes moving from yours to verify your position — not only if you looked good, but at your knees and elbows sliding. For your comfort. It had to be, right?
You were tucked in his grip, so when he went harder, you had nowhere to go. You took his hips slapping against you and moaned loudly, abandoned to the feeling that only he fucking you could tear out of you.
“Can’t take it?” His voice was mocking. “How’s that?” You couldn’t coherently answer. “Are you that desperate for a proper dicking?” 
“Wasn’t that what you did before?”
You barely got it out but he heard you, not stopping for a second. “Clearly wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend must be doing a really sloppy job.”
His voice was tense, you wondered if bitterness was in the mix, but you were too high to think about it.
“No boyfriend. Maybe that’s the problem.”
His hand struck your ass so hard you whimpered a cry. In a second, he was rubbing that area and gripping you closer, fucking you harder. It made you see stars and you couldn’t get enough.
“So whiny,” he grunted, “so needy.” 
You scoffed. He was the one fucking you as hard as possible.
“Do you always moan like that?” You felt his nails on your asscheeks. “Any cock can get that noise out of you.”
You grinned, “No, only yours can.” You expected another slap but it didn’t come. “Never met anyone who can fuck me like you.”
He smacked the other asscheek harshly and gripped you so hard that the constant hit of his cock deep inside you almost short-circuited your brain.
“But you searched.”
He was speaking between gritted teeth, but you were in no condition to notice. “So did you. Fucked how many right here, on this bed?”
He smacked your ass again, but looking through the mirror you could see he wasn’t just angry now. His eyes were closed as if in pain. But you were too rilled up to stop.
“Looking for what? Any tight cunt?” He was getting sloppy and you couldn’t shut up. “Or did you really think anyone else could get you this desperate?” You fucked yourself on his cock against his rhythm and you could swear he growled. But who cared, he was snapping his hips to yours again. “Why so quiet?” His hand striking your ass had you arching for him, but not quieting down. “Tell me. Do you cream yourself this easily with—”
He pulled your hair, forcing your back to arch and take him deeper. Your mouth opened, instantly melting in ways only he could cause until you shivered when you felt him near your ear.
“No.” You opened your eyes in his silence to find him looking at you through the mirror. If your opened mouth spelled how deep he was buried inside you, then his eyes told of how desperate he was. “Only you do this to me. Only you drive me this fucking crazy.”
He connected his nose to your shoulder despite ramming into you wildly and grunted together with you. You couldn’t stifle your moans, your curses, or your prayers. But you yelped when suddenly he let you go and rolled you over. He got between your legs and immediately slid inside, earning a sigh from you and a plea.
He pulled your legs over his shoulders and leaned down over you, seeing your eyes widen. You extended your hands, what for you weren’t certain, but he grabbed them and pressed them to the mattress on either side of your head.
His hips restarted their rocking and you moaned desperately. You squirmed, and moaned, and said his name, and begged, and squeezed his hands, and all the while he never stopped fucking you. He was sweating, it was dripping over you, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered was that he was as deep as possible inside you, torturing you with how good it felt, and you were there for it. Loving every moment.
“Fuck— You’re so deep—”
“You like it?”
His tone was gentle, almost as if he wished for nothing but to please you. You were lost. You wished for nothing else but him.
“Yes— Yes—”
You were desperate, at the edge of your emotions with tears in your eyes and he saw it. “Tell me what you want.”
“You!” Your answer was instantaneous, at the end of a moan. “You, fuck, please, you, just you—”
“I’m here.”
You gripped his hands and anxiety crossed your features for a moment, “Please.”
He kissed you, relenting his rhythm, only to whisper to your lips, “I’m here, bubbles.”
You opened your teary eyes to look at him and your heart shook. His eyes were sweet despite the pleasure and effort mingling in his features. He was looking at you, really looking, really seeing you, and he was there. He wasn’t taking it out on you anymore, he was really with you, like he once was. 
You didn’t want to delude yourself, but the way he continued, staying close to your face to peck your lips and your cheeks, was swelling your heart too much to be contained. You moved with him, lulled by that movement you longed for for too long. That thought alone got you on the right tangent and you made sure to tell him through moans, looks, and your hands in his. He nuzzled you, sweat dripping down, and answered every plea and moan with signs of his own pleasure.
You let it grow inside you until you knew you couldn’t be contained, and neither did you want to. You opened your mouth to tell him and nothing came out, but he got it.
“Come with me.”
He grunted his words before kissing you and you whimpered and moaned your overwhelming pleasure without breaking away. He groaned into your mouth and pressed your lips firmly when you were both done, panting, sweaty, and spent.
You didn’t think about what would happen after that; truthfully, you wished time would stop. For a moment you believed it could be true — he stayed inside you with his mouth on your neck just suckling as you enjoyed his weight over you. You were drifting away, so utterly relaxed, happy, and fulfilled.
Until he pulled away and your heart cracked.
You couldn’t open your eyes immediately, you weren’t ready to face it again, not after the way you were just together. But when you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised.
Jungkook looked tired and sleepy, but that was it. He was extending his hand for you and you grabbed it. He pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pointing at the toilet and turning to handle the condom. You peed but your mind latched onto nothing, you didn’t want to ruin that bliss.
He took your hand again and pulled you back to bed, opening the sheets before pushing you gently with an arm around your waist. You sighed and leaned back into him. He was holding you to his chest as he covered you both with a sheet and you could swear that was all a dream. All of it.
[Next part>]
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aerieza · 10 months
Text
NEW PIERCING ☆ hobie brown
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⠀ ⠀ ☆. warnings — black female reader. black coded. reader has a tongue piercing + pierced nipples. praising. backshots. male oral. nipple licking. creampie. pet names. reblogs & comments are always appreciated! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
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as you watched the new season of never have i ever from the comfort of your bed, persistent knocking on your window echoed throughout the room. without even directing your attention to the shadow in the window, you immediately knew it was your boyfriend, hobie.
"you know, i have a front door for a reason, love."
"i know, but what's the fun in that, sweetheart?" he beamed you a smile revealing his perfect pearly whites and a spikey smiley piercing above them.
"whatever makes you happy." you giggled while unlocking the window to give him access to your champagne toast candle-scented and dimly lit bedroom.
"i missed you a lot, bee." you gestured for him to enter and he climbed inside, ducking to avoid hitting his head due to his extreme height.
your boyfriend was dressed in the adorable badtz maru pajama pants you got him for christmas and a random band tee from decades ago. he dropped his tote bag adjacent to your bed and scrubbed off his black crocs.
"i missed ya 'n your absolutely leng face, love."
his heavy body walks toward you, steps creaking the floor as he quickly plants two kisses on your cheek making a loud mwah sound. he got himself comfortable fast by plopping down on your mattress, crossing his legs, and supporting his head with his arms underneath.
"i stopped by 'ere earlier, seems you weren't home."
"i was busy," you said with a hint of thrill in your tone while closing the window that allowed a chill breeze into the room. the cold air sending goosebumps down your exposed body since you were only dressed in baby pink panties and an oversized kuromi tee.
"busy, yeah? wif what exactly?"
“earlier, i did a thing." you mischievously smiled, joining him on the bed and sitting at the edge with your legs crisscrossed.
"a thing?" he reiterated while smirking, cocking one of his eyebrows up in interest. “do i wanna know?”
you nodded, crawling up the bed and positioning yourself onto his lap, straddling him with your thick thighs. he slid his smooth hands across your bare skin, resting them on your ass and giving it a tight squeeze. you shivered from feeling the coldness of his silver rings all over his fingers graze against your ass. “but you have to close your eyes."
"ah, why? i wanna be able to see your beautiful face." he curled his lips into a playful pout. "that's why i came over darlin'."
"it's just for a second. i want it to be a surprise, pleaseee?”
"alright, alright fine, anythin' for you, love.”
“but make it snappy, yeah? there’s somethin’ i need to handle after this.” hobie’s voice softened and you could feel his stiff cock slowly growing underneath your body. he shifted uncomfortably, pushing his hips up and aiming is dick right in the center of your lacy panties, desperate for the friction to satisfy himself.
"and what's that?" you titled your head a bit and grinned, moving a little closer to his face.
"you.” he spoke faintly and a low chuckle left his lips once he felt your heart rate speed up. hobie's pet names for you dripped off of his tongue were laced with an addictive substance, you never got tired of hearing them.
"we'll kill two birds with one stone then."
“what’d you mean by th—”
"no more questions, now eyes closed," you cut him off and said firmly. he raised one eyebrow slightly and stared at you with a puzzled look. soon after, his brown eyes disappeared behind his fluttery eyelids
you relocated to the edge of the bed, adjusting yourself to be in between his legs like you were a predator about to pounce on your prey. you slipped his pajama pants down just enough to reveal his well structured v-line and the top of his long shaft.
“i see we’re rocking no underwear tonight.” you giggled.
"y'know, giving me head was at the bottom of my guesses for a surprise, but it definitely did not disappoint.” he chuckled and opened his eyes, not wanting to miss the pretty sight of you on his cock.
you pulled down his pajamas even more and his thick, un-cut, and well-trimmed cock sprung out, already leaking out sticky pre-cum. you took a second to admire how pretty his dick was with your acrylics wrapped around it. he was so big, you had to hold him in both of your tiny hands.
he stared with glimmering eyes like he was in a daze from watching you trail up and down his shaft with the tip of your slimy tongue, the cold metal from your tongue piercing felt like ice to his sensitive spot. his breath immediately hitched from the cold feeling.
“f-fuck. wait wait wait.. that's different."
"what is that you got? it's fuckin' wicked, doll."
you briefly released your mouth from his cock, a string of your saliva still attached. you held out your tongue and on the very tip, a shiny silver bar protruded through your tongue with two hot pink balls on both sides.
"i liked the way yours felt on me, so i wanted to return the favor." you stared up at him with your soft doe eyes, a sly grin appearing on your face.
hobie was speechless for a second, all he could do was stare at you as you continued to take his shaft into your mouth. he muttered under his breath in sheer astonishment.
"you naughty lil’ girl."
taking hobie's full length down your warm throat, happily gagging as his tip hits the dangly piece in the back of your throat. your vision became blurry since your eyes were glossy and full of built-up tears. a single one fell down your cheek and he wiped it aside, caressing your flushed cheeks as you continued to suck him dry.
he bit down on his puffy plump lip, coating it in a sheer layer of saliva as you bobbled up and down on his cock. the room echoed with sloppy lewd sounds of slurping, spit running down your chin and creating a pool of saliva dripping down his balls. you were such a sloppy eater—you swallowed his dick like you had no manners.
"you're so fuckin' pretty with my dick in your mouth baby." he groaned, staring down at you in admiration with one of his veiny hands gripping a chunk of your faux soft locs. he used his free hand to hold onto your silk bedsheets like his life depended on it. you met his gaze and a tiny smile formed on your face from watching him squirm.
his dick was spasming under the wetness of your tongue while his moans and groans got louder. looking up at his face, you saw his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shining down at you with need.
after five more minutes of straight gargling his whole dick n balls, with your jaw being close to locking, he carefully pulled you up to meet eye-to-eye with him. he sat up and propped himself up with some pillows and you were positioned back on his lap with your soaking panties on top of his bare dick.
while still catching your breath, you and hobie's lips interlocked and you swirled your tongue all around the perimeter of his mouth, both of your silver tongue jewelry making contact and creating a clanking aroma.
he trailed down your neck, planting wet peppered kisses on your boiling skin. the heat transferred to all of your body like wildfire. he gently wrapped his hand around your lower waist and forced you to arch your back, giving him a better angle.
he tugged your tee off in a quick pull, throwing it somewhere in the room, and watched your pierced titties drop out like he was hypnotized. he licked his lips before devouring each, one at a time. flicking his tongue on your deep brown areolas, reaching your nipples and sucking on them, feeling the cold metal warm up from his tongue.
after slobbering up and down your chest, he directed you to lie down on your stomach. placing a pillow underneath your hips to keep you elevated, making him able to go directly to your g-spot.
sliding your pretty pink panties to one side of your ass, revealing your sopping slit patiently waiting for his dick. "you ready, love?"
hobie angled his hips so that his spit-coated tip was resting on the top of your ass. pulling your panties to the side, he slipped two slim fingers inside of you with ease and curled them upwards, reaching for your sweet spot. he felt you tighten on his fingers and he palmed himself while he fantasized about switching the fingers for his dick. he lowly muttered to himself, “you’re so fuckin’ wet for me.”
you nodded while nibbling on your cotton candy lips and he slowly slid his dick inside of you, giving you time to adjust to his large length. gasping at his heavy dick stretching you out, you pulled a pillow from the top of the bed and stuffed your face into it. he hissed between his teeth when he felt how tight you were around his dick.
"h—hobie.." happy tears swarmed your eyes, you panted, clawing your nails into your sheets, your brows curling upwards while you bit down on your lip, merely drawing blood.
"you're doing so good for me, love. c'mon, i know you can take it."
hobie, balls deep inside of your pussy, effortlessly making you lay on your elbows and making your back arch. the room was filled with the sound of his sack making contact with your aching clit. he hums to himself at your soft mewls into your pillow as he gently spanks you with his free hand, caressing it after each smack.
he was never rough and aggressive with your body—he didn’t throw you around like a rag doll and do whatever he wanted with your body. with him, he didn't degrade you and call you those names either. whats better is that he knew exactly how you desired to be touched and talked to for the ultimate oorgasm.
it was never just sex—hobie made love to you. he was gentle with your body, he treated it like a delicate flower. he consistently made sure you finished, multiple times at that, before he even thought of doing it himself. he never skipped the most important part either, the coming down and aftercare.
your brown irises rolled to the back of your skull and the only audible words you were able to mutter were "h—hobie." and very whiny, "o—oh my goddd's." your french tip-painted toes curled up as he fucked you with the perfect contrast of pleasure and pain.
"turn around, love. i wanna see that pretty face of yours." he rasps in a low tone while moving all of your hair to one side and wrapping his slender fingers around your neck. he lifts one of his legs up, titling his body at an angle to reach deeper inside of your sopping cunt.
you whimpered and slowly you turned your head back to meet his lustful gaze. he thrusts in and out, in and out, and your pussy sang out many wet squelches. your whiny babbles and soft moans got louder as your pussy constricted around his dick, you could feel yourself getting closer to cumming but holding off for him.
"you wanna cum all over this dick, yeah?" he shakily says. he could tell you were close by the way your body trembled underneath him and your mouth was wide open, eyes rolling back to the depths of your skull.
"y—yes yes, please!" you cried out, your sweet and desperate mewls filling the air. he held onto you tight to keep you from running away from the urgent and precise thrusts that both of you had been wanting so bad.
"o—oh my goddd.. i'm cumming!" painting a sheer coat around his throbbing dick as the palm of your hand pressed against his abdomen, trying to push him away.
"that's it, love, get it all out." he praises as you come down from your orgasm, maintaining the same pace he brought you to your climax at. within seconds, he slows to a halt, and hobie's cock is pulsating and spilling stringy ropes of his cum, painting your inner walls completely white.
"that tongue piercing is absolutely beastly, doll."
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jiingyuans · 1 month
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nsfw-y || aventurine x gn!reader || we got a dick WOOOOOP || 500(?) words || i'm still recovering from writers block i forgot how to tag
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fucking aventurine after work hours, a hand over your bosses mouth as he holds your forearm for some sort of stability. the desk creaks as if it's about to break – it might, it probably will. you don't really care right now, not when aventurine looks so pretty underneath you, face flushed and eyes watering. his eyes are mesmerizing, the way they unfocused with every thrust, the way they widen when your hand wraps around his dick and squeezes just right.
fucking him after work reminds you of the way your co-workers would smoke cigarettes after long shifts, you never understood it then but perhaps you get it now — the way he huffs out small, desperate breaths, the way his cunt tightens around your dick. it's addictive, it's refreshing. so, desperate as you are for this newfound addiction, you squeeze your eyes shut and drop your head into the curve between his neck and his shoulder and you bite. 
his moan is sinful, loud enough to echo within the empty office. his hands find purchase within your hair, tugging as he rolls his head back to give you better access to his neck.
“fuck.. hah, i didn't take you for a biter.” he says, in-between gasps and sharp breaths. you feel him pull at your hair, a silent request to see your face. you don't want to indulge him yet, too busy marking his skin. 
“you can't blame me,” you tell him, pulling away from his bitten skin and looking down at him. he looks ruined, absolutely debauched, “have you seen yourself? beautiful.” you say, pressing your thumb down on a reddening bite mark.
he scoffs, though it's obvious he hasn't gone unaffected by your words by his reddening face. he tilts his head to the side, a confident smirk gracing his face.
“a flatterer too? my, my. you're making me blush,” he says, though that much is obvious as you pinch his cheek, feeling the warmth in-between your thumb and your pointer. he swats your hand away with a huff.
he tugs at your open collared shirt, tugging you down until your noses are practically touching. he bats his pretty eyelashes at you and wraps his arms around the back of your neck.
“how about you put that mouth of yours to better use, hm?” he asks. his confidence is adorable and you can't help but laugh at his demand.
“of course, sir.” you mutter, pressing a kiss to his jawline before moving down his body, pressing featherlight kisses and random bites among his skin until you reach his abdomen.
you make eye-contact with him, his avgin eyes watching your every move. you can see him shiver as your warm breath hits his crotch, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“whatever you want.”
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tempestuous-lush · 5 months
Text
koshka || mafia!Bucky x reader
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Warnings: JESUS. Um, where to start? Definite bdsm mentions, usage. Let’s get a big part out of the way. There is a gangbang in here. A lot of unprotected sex. Fingering. Squirting. Dildo usage. Hitachi. Restraints. A lot of cum shots. Butt plug. Anal. Double penetration. Triple penetration (mouth, anal, vaginal). Anal creampies. Titty fucking. Daddy kink (Bucky brings it out in me). Masturbating (briefly). Aftercare. More sex in tub. Vaginal creampies (both Bucky). Overstimulation. Flogger usage. Brief pregnancy kink (if you squint). All VERY consensual. Not proofread.
Summary: Bucky was trying to broker a peace deal, and neither of you are sure whose idea it became, but you became the peace offering. All of the other major players in the underworld would get their time with you. A way of Bucky showing that he was willing to concede if they were, after signing contracts, of course. This is, by far, the most debaucherous thing I have written. I’ve had this scenario in my head for a while now. Started writing and it just poured out. If you guys like this, I will probably keep mafia!bucky and koshka on the back burner for my more filthy thots. This is also my first time writing mafia!bucky, and I didn’t hate it.
Koshka = kitten in Russian
DIVIDER CURTESY OF @firefly-graphics (they probably get tired of me tagging them for this, but the things they have are AMAZING
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Bucky loved the way you looked at him as he buttoned up his pressed white shirt, still in bed with your beautiful legs tangled into the sheets and your hair splayed across his pillow as you inhaled the scent of him from it. You looked so shy. Innocent. But you were anything but. 
Once he slipped on his cufflinks, he crawled on all fours across the bed until he was caging you in and the tip of his nose traveled along the length of your neck before he kissed that sensitive spot beneath your ear, “Good morning, koshka. I hope you’re ready for my business meeting later today.” His large blue eyes looked at you lovingly, “Are you sure it’s still okay? If not I will put a stop to it right here, right now. You know that, right”
The idea had you feeling shy, but you couldn’t deny the rush of arousal that flooded your system as you thought about it. Your cheeks heated up before peeking up at him, “M’very sure James.”
“I love how sweet you look, face all flushed with embarrassment at the thought of how greedy you are. I’ll see you in a few hours, koshka. And then…well, a little business and pleasure never hurts.” His lips trailed down your neck the same time his hand pulled down on the comforter. As he did, exposing his favorite pair of tits, he licked and sucked the tender flesh until your body was awake for him and he groaned, breaking the contact and resting his head in the middle of your chest. You heard a mumble, “I gotta go, koshka, but I’ll be back soon.”
As he walked to the bedroom door, he watched you pull the blanket off and stretch out. His eyes landed on the soft, sweet mound between your legs, “Do me a favor today.”
“Hmmm?” Your back arched off the mattress.
He licked his lips, “Don’t put on any clothes. Spend your morning like that, because it would be a crime if you put clothes on and covered perfection.”
He opened the door and slipped out. You laughed, knowing full well that he was going to his office downstairs. The house was empty today though. He made sure of that, considering what was happening later. Getting out of bed, you headed to the bathroom. You knew you wanted to spend the next hour soaking in the tub, exfoliating, and putting on the lotion that Bucky loved smelling on your skin. He always said it made you even more edible. 
Then, you stayed in bed reading until you heard his voice calling out your name. A small smile worked its way to your lips as you stood and slipped on your floor length silk robe, leaving it untied to give him the tease of your full tits and your nipples hard beneath the silk with your bare pussy on display. Coming to the top of the stairs, you saw Bucky with a few gentlemen. He saw you and a wolffish smile took over his features, “Gentlemen, the lady of the hour. My queen.”
They turned around to look at you, averting their eyes momentarily before they remembered why they were here. They were all attractive, sure. However, they were not your Bucky. You walked down the stairs slowly to him and he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you towards him before kissing you passionately and possessively before murmuring, “If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I will go ahead and get her ready. I’ll be back shortly if you’d like to join the others.”
They walked away reluctantly as Bucky gently steered you down the hall in the opposite direction, bringing you to the door of your favorite room. He opened it and you saw the padded table with the restraints resting on top of it and hanging from the ceiling above. As his hands slipped your robe from your shoulders, his lips ghosted the skin along the nape of your neck while whispering, “Get on the table for me, koshka. On your back. Head slightly off the side. That beautiful face needs to be available to fuck, okay?”
Your legs were shaking with anticipation quickly as you walked towards the table, climbing on top of it, before doing as you were told. You were on your back, head slightly hanging off of one end and ass just a bit off the other. Bucky’s hand traveled down your sternum and down the soft tissue of your stomach before teasing your already aching pussy and traveling down your left leg, lifting it up. He pulled it outwards and used a leather cuff restraint to lock your ankle in place before reaching up and using another leather restraint around your thigh, effectively locking your leg in place. He repeated the same with your right leg and used a soft leather strap to hold your waist before finally locking your wrists so that your arms were spread out. Last but not least, he lifted your head and placed a soft pillow beneath it to give you cushion against the table edge. 
“Time to get my little koshka ready, isn’t that right?”
Your pussy spasmed in response before you could even talk, your legs so spread that Bucky spotted the small motion easily. He chuckled darkly, “You’re a fucking vision. It’s no wonder they all wished to accept this peace treaty. Having their dick anywhere near something so…ethereal. So…” His middle finger sank into your folds, eagerly pulling him in as you moaned at the contact before he pulled his hand back and greedily sucked your slick from his finger, “delicious. The idea is enough to drive a man mad. Trust me, I would know. So. Are you ready, koshka? Are you ready to be a perfect doll, a plaything, for all of daddy’s big, bad friends?”
His fingers messily rubbed your pussy, spreading around the sheen of your arousal while getting you more heated with the sporadic contact with your always sensitive clit. You shuddered as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, “Yesss. M’ready daddy.”
You felt the cold of lube pressing at the tightness of your ass, but you were trained for this. Relaxing, your ass opened up to his fingers before he coated your favorite plug with more lube and slowly pressed it into you as his free hand kept playing with your pussy. The stretch was instant and your pussy gushed at the promise of what was to come. His middle finger plunged back into your pussy, joined with his ring finger, “So wet for all those faceless cocks stuffing you full, or is it knowing that I’ll be watching you the entire time? Cock aching and leaking for you? Gonna cum for daddy to get you all nice and messy for those other men? Gonna cream my fingers or weep on my hand, koshka? Personally, I think that pussy is gonna weep for me.”
The combination of your ass filled and his fingers driving into you stroking your g spot as he told you such filthy things was enough to quickly send you over. Your moans and sounds were indiscernible until you shouted his name, squirting all over his hand and reverberating in the aftershocks of his fingers rubbing your cum all over your pussy. You could feel it puddling around your ass as well. You wished you could see how he was looking at you.
He walked around to look down at your face with those beautiful blue eyes you loved so much. His voice was rough with his own arousal, “Good girl. And remember, you want this to stop, say the word. It’ll end immediately. I’ll make sure of it.”
With that, he kissed you and headed out. Your eyes could only see so much. Namely, the variety of whips and canes he had spread out on a nearby table and the drawers that you knew contained so many deliciously dark things. Meanwhile, Bucky was busy in his office, confiscating any and all phones and telling the men the rules they are to follow. The main one he stressed, aside from your safe word, was that none of them were allowed to cum inside of your pussy. They all nodded, eager to taste the queen of the most notorious mob boss on the East coast, none of them expecting a chance like this to ever fall in their lap. 
Meanwhile, as you lay there, more than ready…you heard the door open and heard a few different voices at the same time. They all commented a variation of the same thing, “Beautiful.”
The first thing you saw was Bucky sitting next to the table, a wicked smile on his face, hand palming his aching cock through his pants. Your pussy spasmed again. That was when you felt the first touch of someone who wasn’t Bucky, trailing along your leg. What you weren’t expecting was the level of fire it started within you, an ache in your lower belly. It was fueled further on by a hand roughly grabbing your right breast, a wet thumb flicking your nipple as a different, softer hand did the same with your left. Your eyes grew heavy with lust as another man came to stand before you. His dick was hard and the tip slick with precum. 
His accent was heavy as he commanded, “Open your mouth for me. Now.”
Ever the good girl, you opened your mouth wide for his cock to slip inside, the taste different from what you know from Bucky. At the same time, a cock was slipping through your wet folds, enjoying teasing your needy pussy. You moaned around the thick cock hitting the back of your throat as your pussy was stretched with another. There was a curse of pleasure as the two men took enjoyment in fucking your two available holes. The table moved slightly as another man climbed on to the table and straddled you before squirting cold lube between your heavy tits, squeezing them around his cock as he began fucking them. 
How quickly you turned into what Bucky said you would become. 
A plaything for all of daddy’s big bad friends. 
A doll. 
The man driving into your pussy angled his cock up and his thumb fell on your clit as he kept driving into you. At the same time, the man fucking your mouth let out a slew of praise, “Feels so good. So good at taking cock with your mouth.”
He buried his cock in your throat, and all you could do to keep from gagging at the lack of oxygen was swallowing his semen as it shot down the back of your throat. As he pulled back and you gasped for air, the man destroying your pussy pulled an orgasm out of you as Bucky watched on. Instead of letting you softly come down though, he kept driving into you and playing with your clit until all too quickly, you were gushing around him all the while the man fucking your tits grabbed hold of his cock and quickly finished himself off, thick ropes of cum landing on your face and tits. 
You felt the fullness of your stuffed pussy disappear and while you whimpered at first, you felt fingers pulling at the base of your plug. That was when you heard Russian. You knew enough from Bucky to know roughly what was being said, “An ass like this deserves to be fucked.”
There was more lube on your now gaped hole and the feeling of a cock pressing at your ass before slowly filling you to the brim and then some. Your eyes grew large as another man climbed atop and rammed into your pussy with far less care. Though, they both quickly descended to fucking you like animals that didn’t care what state you were left in after. 
You were about to cry out in pleasure when another cock was shoved into your open mouth. It caused you to become nothing but moans as you were filled to the peak. You grew tighter as you became more tightly wound. The way you were tightening finally managed to tip the one fucking your ass over the edge, and he let out a stream of curses as he bottomed out and emptied into your ass while at the same time the one fucking your pussy pulled out and you felt the heat of his cum land on your lower stomach and splattering on the outside of your pussy. 
At the same time, the other man using your mouth pulled out and slapped your face, causing you to moan. His accent was heavy as well as he chuckled and commented, “The devil’s queen likes a bit of pain, does she?”
As he walked around you before the next man in line for your mouth took over, you spotted Bucky stroking himself. The fact that he was getting off to you getting fucked, used, and getting cum on made your arousal start anew. You moaned out, “M’love a bit of pain. I can…I can take it.”
You heard the sound of a flogger being lifted from the table as the next faceless cock filled your mouth. The only taste on your tongue and at the back of your throat now was the mixture of cum and precum and you loved it. As your throat continued being used, you felt the kiss of the flogger on your stomach. Another of the men climbed on the table and pushed your tits together to fuck them, the cum from the previous man giving more lube, “Incredible fucking tits you’ve got access to Barnes. Can’t wait to fuck the rest of her.”
You heard Bucky’s voice, “That’s good, because she loves to be full of cock.”
Just then the flogger came down on your pussy and your eyes opened wide as you felt the silicone of a dildo prodding at your folds and bucking hard into you. One of them must have been using the rod to fuck you from afar with the dildo as the other continued to flog you. Dick sliding between your tits, the other still fucking your mouth and leaving you gagging and gasping as he’d give you a break occasionally until he pulled out of your mouth and stroked his cock while the man fucking your tits also pulled back and stroked his cock. The first one came with a grunt all over your face and tits, the second cumming on your tits and upper stomach before getting off the table. 
Soon the dildo was discarded as was the flogger and another cock was soon buried in your ass, with another once again slamming into your pussy. This time, your mouth was left alone for them to hear the sounds you were making. You watched Bucky hand one of them the hitachi wand to bring to the one fucking your pussy. As soon as it touched your clit, you were cumming hard and fast. But they weren’t satisfied. They held the hitachi down as they kept rutting into you and you started crying out for Bucky, thinking of him sitting there stroking himself to the sight of you being used and coming undone. The man holding the wand in place let up and pulled out as your pussy made a mess, squirting obscenely as your ass continued being taken until he was filling it with more cum. 
The day continued like this. You were tied up for nearly an hour before the leather cuffs came off of your wrists and waist, then your legs. They were enjoying taking their turns, watching the others ruin you as they got themselves hard all over again, leaving you an absolute mess, dripping with their cum. When they stood you up, you nearly fell. 
Bucky would have been concerned if it weren’t for your sounds of pleasure being ripped from your body. Even still, you were giving. Bucky’s blue eyes watched on as they flipped you on to your stomach on the table. 
He stood up and walked around, looking at your beautiful gaping ass, stuffed and overflowing with semen. Your inner thighs were also dripping. He had been edging himself for so long. He walked up to you, stroking his cock once more. With dominance he bellowed, “After today, no one touches my little koshka but me. Anyone get any ideas otherwise, and I will cut off your hand for considering it. This was a peace offering, but I will burn the world if anyone tries beyond this room.”
He lined himself up with your pussy and thrust into you while roughly grabbing your hair and pulling up, “Look at the men who fucked you today koshka, as you let them know whose doll you really are.”
He thrust again and you came back to life, a cry coming from you, “James! M’yours, to t-take.”
Bucky started fucking you like a man starved. Animalistic noises came out of him and his cock reached so deliciously deep inside of you. Your overstimulated pussy couldn’t handle it. And he knew that. Which is why he reached around and used his fingers on your clit and you came again and as you did, thick ropes of his cum wrecked your womb as he continued driving into you…pulling out one final orgasm before you lay there thoroughly spent and utterly exhausted. Once you fully drained him he pulled out and admired the sight of you: a fucked mess, but only him dripping from your pussy.
Bucky ushered everyone out and you weren’t sure when but he came back in and scooped you up in his arms, “You did so good playing daddy’s doll, koshka, but now I am going to clean you up and feed you. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”
“M’enjoyed it daddy but I only”- you yawned in a way he found endearing -“need you.”
By the time he carried you up the stairs, you were softly sleeping. He set you down on the bed, making a note to himself to strip the bedding and change it before ridding himself of his clothes. Scooping you up once more, he took you into the bathroom and stepped into the low, large tub that was already filled with warm bubbly water. As he sat, he pulled your back to his front and picked up a cup, gently dumping the hot water over your skin and rinsing away the proof of any other man slowly but surely. He used a warm rag to softly clean your face before lathering up his hands with soap and running them over your shoulders. 
A smile pulled at his lips as you stirred ever so slightly under his touch. Especially so as he took extra care to soap up your chest, his palms and fingers teasing your nipples. Bucky moved lower and you instinctively arched your back, your head falling back onto his shoulder. As one of his hands ventured lowered, you spread your legs on instinct even as you tried to protest, “James, m’so tired. Don’t think I can do another James m’sorry.”
“You’re forgetting something important, koshka…” His middle finger delved deep inside of your aching pussy, tender from the abuse it received. He lazily pumped his hand, finger driving in and out of you, pushing all of his cum either deeper inside of you or out of you into the scented bath water. His free hand still ran over the lather that covered your tits, increasing the teasing more and more as his finger stayed moving at the same speed, “I know your body and everything it is capable of handling. You can cum one more time for me kotenok, one more time. Just like this, in the tub. You and me. Your sweet pussy pulling me deeper and deeper, my hard cock digging into your back.”
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head with pleasure as he spoke. He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong. Your pussy was desperate for him. Always. Your eyes were beginning to tear up as he continued his ministrations. You were spent. But one more, for him. You could do it.
“Come for me, koshka.”
A sob escaped you as he shifted and hit a deliciously sweet and painful spot, “I’m s’close James. I’m s’close, but I can’t.”
James knew what you needed. He always did. His arm wrapped around your waist and lifted you, easily turning you to face him before holding the base of his cock with his free hand and lowering you onto him. You shuddered at the fullness. 
Pulling you to him, his lips collided with yours and he kissed you with every emotion he felt. At the same time, he drove up into you. Water splashed over the edge of the tub and onto the floor. His tongue teased yours before he broke the kiss and his mouth fell on your neck. As a result, every little noise you made, every whimper of pleasure being wrung from your body fell on his ear. He praised you, “Did so good for me today. Gonna be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock one more time, koshka? Let me hear how good I feel inside of you. Beautiful little koshka had so much cock today that she doesn’t have anything left for daddy’s? It’s okay, because daddy has so much left for you. Gonna fuck you till your pregnant with my child”-
That was the reason no one else was allowed to cum inside your pussy today. Bucky had been trying to fuck a child into you. His child. And god, if you didn’t love it. And now? In such an emotional state? A sob escaped you just as he hit that pleasure spot deep inside. You came to life just enough, “P-please daddy, please!”
His hands gripped tightly into your flesh, “Please what, koshka?”
“F-fuck me t-till I’m pregnant with your baby.”
“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me then, koshka?”
You only lasted for a few breaths more before the most animalistic cry came from you as he finally tore your orgasm from you, chasing his own at the sight and once again filling you to the brim. At that, he stilled and encouraged you to lay against his chest. Bucky lay back against the tub while cradling you, leaving his cock buried in you to hold his cum inside. Turning on the tap, he added more hot water and stroked your back, letting you sleep. 
He’d feed you after you had your rest. 
Besides, this? This was everything to him. You were everything to him. 
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gogogodzilla · 5 months
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day 29, somnophilia
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mike schmidt x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, free use (kinda), semi-established relationship, neighbor!reader, part 2, part 3 kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3
You and Mike came to a relatively simple agreement. You’d watch Abby while he worked nights and he’d repay you by fucking your brains out. He was hot and good in bed, plus Abby spent most of her time in her room. So, you didn’t mind your arrangement much. 
That was until Mike got so busy you hardly saw him enough to receive your payment.
“You know,” you said as you took a seat at your usual spot on his couch, “you still owe me from last week.” 
He sighed and leaned over you, placing a hand on each side of the back cushion, trapping you. 
He pressed a kiss to your lips, “I know. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” 
You grinned, “I’ll leave the light on for you.” 
Mike surprised you that night when he came home late that night, and you had curled yourself up in his bed, fast asleep. You awoke with Mike pressing heated kisses along your neck and his hand between your thighs. He pressed his free hand against your mouth, muffling the desperate moans that fled past your lips. 
You’d stay tangled between his sheets until the early morning when you’d sneak back across the street to your own home. Ever since that night, you’d tell him that if you wanted him to wake you up like that. The light was on more often than not. 
When he started working nights, things became slightly more complicated. By the time he got back in the morning, it was time to wake Abby up for school and you had to get ready for the day. That was until you had the day off and an idea struck you. 
You were about to head out the door before you turned to Mike, “Leave the light on for me?” 
His eyebrows furrowed for a split second before the corners of his mouth quirked up. “Yeah, of course,” he nodded and you were out the door, grinning. 
You waited a few hours, performing menial tasks around your home before you decided it was time to put your plan into action. Abby was off to school and Mike was asleep soundly in his bed, headphones placed securely on his ears and nature sounds drifting out of them. You slowly crept further into Mike’s room and began to set up the camcorder at the foot of his bed, flinching at the slightest creak of the tripod. 
You knew Mike wouldn’t wake up, but it was more exciting if you made yourself believe there was a chance. You pressed record and giddiness filled you. You made a show of stripping for the camera. You slowly slid off your sweatpants and underwear in one swoop. 
You picked up the pair of jeans he had on the floor and held them up to the camera, doing your best game show girl impression. You picked up your underwear and tucked them in the front pocket, patting it in before setting them at the foot of his bed. Your shirt was the next to go. You faced the camera as you slowly tugged your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest underneath. 
You trailed your fingers up your torso and circled your fingers around your nipples, causing them to harden under your touch. You leaned your head back to give him a full view of your chest as you pinched one of your nipples between your fingers, gasping slightly. 
You turned and sauntered to his side of the bed where he was sleeping soundly. You ran your fingers gently over his forehead, brushing his hair out of the way, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 
He made your job easier by wearing a black t-shirt and briefs and by always sleeping on his back. You threw the blankets covering his form to the side and kneeled beside the bed. Your hands wandered over his thighs before palming him through his briefs. 
You crawled into bed next to him and your hands drifted past the waistband of his briefs. You stroked him, slowly, before freeing his cock from its confines. You pulled his briefs down and over his balls, just enough for you to access everything freely.
You threw a leg over his thigh and your hand wrapped around his cock once again. He had begun to harden in your grasp but you couldn’t quite get enough friction. You slid down his body and turned so the camera could get a clear view of what you were about to do. 
You held him in your hand and swiped your tongue across the head of his cock. You groaned at the taste of him and enveloped your lips fully around him. You swirled your tongue around the pink-hued tip and Mike’s breath caught slightly but he didn’t stir. 
You steadily bobbed your head, gradually taking more of him with every stroke. One hand stroked what you couldn’t reach while the other gently fondled his balls. You pressed your tongue against the underside of his shaft, and Mike’s cock twitched in your mouth. 
You pulled away and licked your lips when the ache between your thighs became too great. You carefully straddled his lap and ground against his cock, spreading your slick. A soft moan left you as the tip hit your clit just right. 
You brought your hand down to where your bodies met and aligned him with your entrance. The whine that escaped you as you lowered yourself onto him was loud and you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle it. 
You missed his hands roaming your body as you rode him, but there was something so pleasurable about seeing the minute changes in his demeanor as you used him. You dipped down to press open-mouthed kisses against the column of his neck. You clenched at the thought of covering him with hickeys to find later. You leaned down and explored his chest with your lips and tongue. 
You smiled as small red marks covered his neck and chest. You were confident that they’d blossom into the purple marks you desired once he awoke. You began to rock your hips faster against him as one hand drifted down to circle your clit. You used your free hand to knead your breast, pinching and dragging your fingertip across the bud of your nipple. Your legs were beginning to burn and tremble but the familiar heat pooling in your belly spurred you on. 
You leaned forward, and the new angle had you reaching your peak in no time. You spasmed around him as you continued to jut your hips against him, riding out your high. A satisfied moan escaped you as you felt Mike twitch within you and he filled you with his cum. 
You panted softly as you slid off of him. You kissed his lips softly before fixing his briefs and covering him back up. You stopped the recording and quickly got dressed. You tucked the camcorder and tripod under your arm before leaving Mike’s home. In a few hours, you’d bring him the lunch you made him, tucking the VHS tape inside the paper bag. 
You’d hold the door for him, and walk him out to his car, smiling the entire time. 
“I hope you enjoy your lunch,” you’d mention. He’d grin, a knowing glint in his eyes. You’d leave the light on for him for when he came home.
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downbadf0rficppl · 2 months
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exposure therapy
Bucky x F!Reader
Summary: Bucky tends to avoid crowded spaces. He's afraid of something - either being recognised or being trapped or something else. He doesn't know. When you offer to help him get out of his comfort zone. He can't resist.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Creepy weirdo men (not Bucky), therapy, smut
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You dipped into the subway, dodging in between passengers - it was rush hour and the subway was disturbingly crowded. You scrambled onto the platform, praying that your train was slightly delayed so you could get on in time. It wasn't.
You stood on the platform as more and more peopled filtered, the noise building to a cacophony of miserable voices. You took a step back, trying to back away from the edge, when a man shoved you through the crowd. You stumbled forward.
A gloved hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back towards the middle of the platform and into a warm chest. You start to pull away, not keen to be leaning into a stranger. A familiar cologne hit you. You’d bought him that cologne. You looked up to see a welcome face.
Bucky.
A vicious scowl was etched into his face, his arm now firmly around your waist. You smile up at him, and he catches your smile, returning it with a soft one of his own. You reach to hold onto his hand as the train pulls up to the platform. You both step on, grabbing onto the bar and jolting as the train gets going.
Bucky leans down to your ear, “You okay, doll?”
His hot breaths elicit shivers all down your spine. You nod at him, unable to push any words out and he looks at your peculiarly. He’s never known you to be lost for words.
You met Bucky once he started his court-mandated therapy sessions. You were the receptionist at the clinic, and you knew Dr Raynor’s reputation for being thorough – although it was your personal opinion that maybe, sometimes, she could take it easy on some of her patients. Bucky was one of them.
You’d gathered a lot from the months that he had been going to therapy. The major thing was that therapy was the reason he was usually in such a poor mood. If he walked in in a bad mood, his mood when he left was positively foul. He didn’t like how Dr Raynor pried – even if that was, in fact, part of the point of his therapy.
You’d gathered that he was quite a lonely man. In fact, when he first started coming to therapy, the fact you smiled at him surprised him. He’d warmed up to it over it, and nowadays, when he came to the office, he greeted you before you greeted him.
You started finding jokes to tell, or little interesting facts – anything to make him smile. You offered sweets to the kids, words of warmth to the adults, and jokes to Bucky. It all worked out. He laughed at your jokes, in the same way the kids enjoyed their sweets and the adults appreciated to the adults.
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky looked forward to seeing you. He was surprised by your smile – but only how beautiful it was. He’d never seen pure sunshine until he saw your face break into a smile. In fact, the sun could go dark, but he knew that the world would only adapt to revolve around you. He knew that his already did.
On his birthday, you were the only person who gave him a present – a rather expensive cologne that you had splurged on. You wanted him to feel special. Turns out you didn’t need to go to those lengths. You were one of very few people who even knew it was his birthday.
Bucky made a point of buying you flowers from time to time after that – and you made a point of hiding them from Raynor. You didn’t want your budding friendship to be another thing she digs deep into. He also wore the cologne every time you saw him, which made you smile. At least he liked the gift.
He got off at your stop with you, even though you insisted he didn’t need to. Something about, ‘it’s on my way,’ and ‘I’d feel better if I knew you got home safe, doll.’ You smiled as he walked next to you, hands tucked into his pockets, leading the way to your apartment. You walked in a comfortable silence, the noise of Brooklyn blaring all around you
“How was it?” You asked, looking up at him.
“Hmm?”
“The subway. How was it?” You knew that Bucky generally got quite claustrophobic. He’d avoided the subway for the first few months of living in Brooklyn and, even now, only took it when he absolutely needed to.
He looked at you, his eyes full of amused frustration, “Could be worse.” He lowered his voice, hoping you wouldn’t hear him, “Was better ‘cause it was with you.”
You smiled, “Call it exposure therapy.”
“Exposure therapy? What’s that?”
“It’s where you face your fears by confronting them head on.” He looked at you, still confused, “You know how you’re scared of enclosed spaces?” He nodded his head, “Well, exposure therapy would put you in an enclosed space – like the subway – to confront your fear.”
Bucky nodded his head, mulling over your words in his head. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
You came to your apartment lobby, Bucky following you inside. You told him that this is where you left him, and that you’d see him next week, same place, same time.
You were heading toward your apartment when he stopped you, “You know the exposure therapy thing you mentioned?”
You turned back around, “Yeah?”
“Is that a real thing?”
You nodded your head. Bucky swallowed nervously, not sure how to ask the question. You read his mind, “You wanna give it a go?”
He nodded. You grabbed his hand gently, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.
“You should probably talk to the professional about how to actually go about it,” you chuckled at how his face darkened at the mention of Raynor, “but I’d love to help you out. Whatever you need.”
Bucky watched you as you disappeared into the stairwell, smiling all the way.
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Just like you said, Bucky brought the idea of exposure therapy up with Dr Raynor in his next session. Surprisingly, she was almost immediately on board. She figured that it would be a good way for Bucky to get out of his comfort zone and confront some of his more irrational fears.
He immediately told you. You squealed – a sound that definitely shocked Bucky – grabbing his phone from his hand and adding your number as a contact.
He changed your contact to 'Doll' – not that it was necessary seeing that the only people that ever texted or called were Sam and Raynor. Guess you were another person to add the extremely exclusive club.
The next morning you dragged him to a coffee shop. Not just any coffee shop. The local Starbucks. You drag him in during the rush hour, holding his hand as he grumbles in the line.
"Did we really have to start this extreme?" He says, gazing behind and in front of him. You squeeze his hand, reassuringly.
"You'll be fine. Know what you want?"
You shuffled forward as another person moved out of the line.
The Starbucks worker sighed as you and Bucky walked up to the front of the line. You smiled at Bucky as he gripped your hand, unassuredly.
"Hi - um - can I - uh - get - uh... -" Bucky stumbled over his words. You ran your fingers over his knuckles soothingly, "cold brew - the smallest size."
The worker nodded his head, "that'll be...-" You drowned out his words as you stared up at Bucky's face. His face was still contorted in a grimace, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes. You gave yourself a mental high five.
Bucky paid for his drink and waited as you ordered an iced caramel macchiato with oat milk. Bucky wasn't sure he knew what any of that meant but he looked in awe as you complimented the cashier and made him blush. You had that kind of effect on people.
You grabbed your drinks and went to sit in Central Park, the sun streaming through the trees as you found a bench. You rested your arm next to his, keeping the contact between the two of you minimal.
"You like it?" You asked, staring him in the face. He took a sip and pulled a face.
"Too bitter." He said, sticking his tongue in disgust. You laughed. He celebrated internally, desperate to hear that sound directed toward him again.
"Really?" I thought you would have liked it. You know, given the dark and brooding look you've got going on." You deadpanned. He shoved you gently and you laughed again.
"Try mine," you said, handing over your drink and grabbing his. Yours was much nicer than his, sweeter and more milk too. He smiled in response and took another sip, "Keep it. I like cold brew." He tried to change your mind and hand you back your drink, but you were adamant.
"Let's play a game."
He looked at you, questioningly.
"20 questions."
He turned to face you.
"Rules are: one person asks a question both answer it...-"
"That's not how '20 questions' usually works."
"Well, that's how it works now. Also rapid-fire: you have to say the first thing that comes to mind."
"Ok, shoot." He leaned back, resting on his arm, occasionally taking sips from the macchiato.
"Favourite colour?" You went first, starting simple.
"Yellow," He said, not really thinking. His face blushed when his mind caught up to him though. You noted that for later.
"Mine's blue, like the sea." You responded, staring intently into his eyes. Bucky's eyes were blue, just like the sea on a stormy day. Easy to get lost in. Easy to get found in. Those eyes told you where home was. "Your turn."
"Ok, umm- favourite hobby?"
"Umm, I like painting. Helps me relax. Used to paint a lot as a kid, probably need to do it more often." Bucky stared at your lips as you talked, mesmerised by the way they move. "What about you, Buck?
"Me? Oh, I like reading."
"Oh yeah? What kind of books?"
"The Hobbit. Was my favourite back in the day. Read it with Steve all the time." He became quiet at the mention of his best friend, and you reached out to rest a hand on his.
"You wanna know my other favourite hobby?" Bucky nodded, meeting your eyes, "Helping my favourite super soldier get out of his comfort zone." Bucky's eyes lit up at that.
You stood up, offering Bucky your hand. He grabbed, faking back pain as he stood up. "Where to next, doll?"
"We're going grocery shopping." The groan that left him made you laugh out loud.
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You walked into the Target near the compound. Neither of you actually lived in the compound, but this Target was bigger than any of the Targets in the city. You figured the bigger the Target, the more likely it was that Bucky would get out of his comfort zone.
He grabbed your hand and squeezes it tightly. You smiled up at him as you pulled out a trolley. Bucky grabbed it from you, hands tightening around the bar. You linked your arm with his.
"Ready?"
"No."
You smirked, patting his arm, "You'll be fine."
You perused through the aisles, occasionally handing Bucky an item. If you were too short to grab something, he'd reach up over your head and grab it for you. You flushed at that - the feeling of being caged between Bucky made you feel safe. Like nothing could ever touch you.
You walked ahead of Bucky, leaning on your tiptoes to grab some eggs from the shelf. You grab the carton, placing it in the trolley. He looks at you lovingly, your cheeks blushing under his gaze.
"Excuse me, could you move?" An old man shoves past the both of you. Bucky's gaze immediately hardens. The old man continues to grumble under his breath.
He moves to say something, but you grab his hand, shaking your head. Bucky pulls you into his chest, leaning to press his lips to your forehead. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as surprise washes over you. Clearly, his actions caught up to him as he froze up, muscles tightening under your hands. He tried to pull away but you keep your face nuzzled in his chest, arms wrapping tighter around him. You smiled as he relaxed into your hug.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Should we get going, doll? More things to buy."
You nodded but kept your hand in his. He smiled as you leaned into him. This was nice. He could get used to this.
You finished shopping, scanning your things through in the self-service. You didn't have that many items, but Bucky refused to let you pay, whipping out the card that Stark gave him, with the excuse that he didn't use it enough - especially, given the amount of money that Stark had put on it.
You were giddy. Your shopping trip was a success - Bucky now knew that supermarkets weren't even half as scary as he thought. In fact, he even smiled at a worker on his way out.
Bucky helped you load the two shopping bags onto his bike, before strapping the helmet onto your head. You could get used to this.
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After that day, you guys went out regularly. You tried restaurants and diners (Bucky preferred diners because it was less fancy and he felt more at home - "haven't changed much from the 40s", he'd said), you tried the gym (or rather, you dragged him to the gym with you on a random Tuesday morning when you had a spin cycle class - it wasn't that bad but Bucky stuck to training at the compound), you even took him to the cinema when they were showing a 'Lord of the Rings' rerun (Bucky almost kissed you when he heard the plan, but restrained himself - there was no way he was scaring you away now).
Therapy with Dr. Raynor became more bearable because it was just another excuse to see you. He'd put more effort into how he looked - combing his hair, keeping his beard trimmed how he knew you liked it.
Raynor picked up on it.
"I see your exposure therapy experiment is going well. What kinds of things have you been up to?"
Bucky stared out the window.
"James?"
He looked Raynor in the eye, before glancing at you through the window in the door. It was barely a shape, due to the frosted treatment on the window, but he knew it was you. He always knew.
"Shopping. She took me to the mall yesterday."
"That's a big step." Raynor said, noting that down with her pen, "How was it?"
"Wasn't that bad. We went into a shop she likes, then she asked me to pick a shop." Bucky looked down at his hands.
You had taken him into Sephora, promising him you only needed to get one thing. You run out of your favourite mascara and just needed to grab a tube. Bucky didn't know what mascara was, nor did he particularly care, but he followed you into the store nevertheless. You picked up the mascara you were looking for but kept milling around, looking to see if anything caught your fancy.
Bucky's hand found yours with relative familiarity, and you pulled him around as you explored. A man from across the shop gave him a sympathetic look.
You left Bucky for a moment to pick up a couple of face masks when the man from across the store made his way over. He patted Bucky on the shoulder amicably.
"Feel for you brother," he chuckled, moving past him. Bucky was confused.
You lined up behind him, mascara, face masks, and some liquid blush that you'd been meaning to get for a while in hand. You paid for the items, wishing the cashiers a good day. When you walked out, you asked Bucky where he wanted to go. It wasn't until you got to the clothes shop that he realised what the man meant.
He'd thought you guys were dating. The thought alone made Bucky want to smile. He gripped your hand tighter and didn't go for the rest of the trip.
Bucky looked up at Raynor and continued, "Then we got food and I dropped her home. Same as usual."
Raynor nodded, "Did it help?"
He shrugged, "I probably wouldn't go again. The mall isn't my kinda place."
"Why? Did something happen?"
"Too many teenagers."
Raynor smirked at that, "Any plans for this weekend?"
"Sam's taking me to a bar. Says we need a post-mission stress reliever."
Raynor nodded, "That'll be good for you, James. Enjoy it."
She stood up to open the door and Bucky followed closely behind. He left, wishing Raynor a good evening, before walking up to you with a smile.
"What can I do for my favourite super soldier today?" You asked, placing the sign-in/sign-out sheet in front of him.
"Maybe consider spending your Friday night at a bar with me?" He asked, nervousness hidden behind his confident facade. This was the first time he'd ever asked you on something resembling a date.
You saw through his front, "Is this just because you don't want Sam to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone?"
"Maybe?"
You laughed.
"Is that a yes?"
"Sure, Buck. I'll go to the bar with you. Pick me up at 7? I'll send you the address."
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When you opened the door to your apartment, Bucky's jaw dropped. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven and you were the angel waiting to ring him in.
You smiled at his awestruck expression, patting his cheek before grabbing your hand and leading him to the stairwell he had just walked up. He followed you like a puppy.
He fastened the helmet tightly on your head, before speeding down the road, going as fast as you like it. You rest your head on his back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
You waltzed into the bar together, Sam's status as the new Captain America making it easy to skip the queue. You grabbed drinks - a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him. You teased him for his choice but Bucky just smiled.
You looked around for Sam, but he was nowhere to be found "Probably caught up doing Captain America stuff," you tell Bucky, whose eyebrows had been furrowed almost since you arrived.
You drag Bucky to the dance floor after two drinks, and you stay there for half the night, waiting for Sam to show up. You dance and dance and dance, teaching Bucky some new moves that wouldn't have been legal the last time that Bucky came out dancing with a girl. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Sam's calling, I'll be back in a second." You smile up at him, continuing to dance once he'd left.
Not minutes had passed, when you feel a presence behind you. Thinking it was Bucky, you turn around to smile at him, only to come face to face with a greasy smile. He placed his hands on your ass, and you shoved him away, walking towards the bartender.
"Come on, sweetcheeks. Let us have some fun." You walked through the crowd faster, not looking back. He was still following you.
Bucky. He was outside, he could help you.
You made a beeline for the exit, hoping that the creep was far enough behind you, you could get away unseen. You weren't so lucky. He grabbed your hand and pushed you up against the door, arm pressing against your breasts. The door gave way as you pushed against the release latch, causing you to both go stumbling outside.
Bucky was right outside the door, trying to call Sam back, when you came flying through the door. He instantly pocketed his phone, striding towards you as you backed away from your pursuer.
You bumped into his chest, immediately pulling away to face him. You relaxed when you saw it was Bucky, grabbing his shirt and moving behind him.
"You can't hide from me, you little slut." Bucky saw red.
He grabbed the guy by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall, flesh hand coming up to slap his face. "Don't ever call my girl anything again, you hear me?"
You preened at 'my girl', hoping that it was true, that you were truly and honestly his girl.
Bucky let the man go as a bouncer came around the side of the building. He nodded towards Bucky, who explained that "he tried to grab my girl, chased her out the building."
There it was again. 'My girl.'
The bouncer grabbed the man by the scuff of his neck and threw him out onto the curb. Bucky turned to face you, hands stroking the side of his face. He looked intently into your eyes, searching for a hint of pain or fear. There was nothing. All he could see was love, radiating from your gaze and warming him from top to toe.
You grabbed his face and pulled him down, your lips pressing onto his. He melted into the kiss, eyes closing as he took over, tongue slipping between your lips as you gasped. A small whimper escaped you.
"Doll, you're driving me crazy."
"Take me home, Barnes."
He practically raced from the bar to his bedroom, carrying you up every flight of stairs. He gently rested you on the bed, ripping his shirt and jacket off in eagerness. He crawled on top of you as you reach to attach your lips to his. The kiss is long, messier than before, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. You pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his.
He kissed you again, excitement pouring off of him, before moving to kiss down your jaw and in between your breasts. He eased your top off, leaving you in your bra, and kissed down your belly button to the top of your trousers. He asked for your consent with your eyes, hooking his fingers in your waistband. You nodded vigorously. He pulled your trousers down, discarding them against the floor. You took off your own bra, throwing it into the pile of your clothes. His eyes were fixed on your breasts for a few moments before he turned back to your cunt.
He buried his face in your clothed cunt, his hyper-sensitive smell craving the scent of your arousal. He teased you with his metal finger, rubbing circles around your clit. You arched up against him, whines slipping out of your mouth.
Those sounds made the blood rush straight to his cock.
He swiftly pulls your panties away, throwing them nearby your trousers. He buried his face between your thighs, nosing at your clit as he licked stripes up and down your lips. You whined, begging for more stimulation, and Bucky happily obliged. He moved to licking and sucking your swollen clit, the ministrations making you shiver and shake as you call his name, moaning loud enough for his neighbours to hear. Your thighs clenched around his head, trapping his face in your cunt. He watched as your squirmed, eyes trained on your pleasure-ridden face. He grabbed your thighs, massaging them under his hands, liking the feel of the flesh of your ass in his hand. He felt more possessive of you than ever. This was his.
His fingers moved to work their way into your pussy, it clenching tightly at the intrusion and overload of pleasure. He moved his fingers in and out slowly, picking up the pace of his tongue on your clit. You arched your back again. He smacked your thigh, wanting to gauge your reaction - you moaned loudly and your cunt clenched around his fingers. He growled out how fucking good you taste and how good you are for him. Your cunt clenched again at his praise.
"Oh, you like that? You like being my good little girl?" You moaned in response, "Oh sweetheart, I could eat you out for hours. Look at how pretty you are shaking and shivering for me."
His fingers sped up inside you, pounding into you. You came with a loud moan of his name and a shudder, collapsing against the bed in exhaustion.
The flush on your face and your fucked out expression made Bucky's cock impossibly harder.
He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and pulled off his trousers and his boxers, discarding them somewhere. His dick was hard against his abs, tip red and leaking. He rolled the condom down his dick.
He pulled you down to the edge of the bed, flipping you over. "Ready for round 2?"
You nod enthusiastically.
"That's my good little girl."
He slid into you easily, giving you a minute to adjust to the stretch. He started off slow, but quickly lost control, yanking your hips up to meet his relentless thrusts. The super-soldier stamina mixed with the way you made him feel, made him all the more driven to push you over the edge again. The sound of your pussy when he drove back into you made him groan, your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts. He reached forward to play with them, flicking and pulling the nubs as he pounded into you. You moaned, your face buried into a pillow as he pulled your hips back against his.
Bucky lifted your back up to his chest, rubbing at your clit with his metal hand, the flesh one remaining on your tits. You pulled it up, curling the fingers around your throat.
"Oh, you're a dirty girl." He squeezed a little, loving how your pussy clenched at the oxygen deprivation. You came seconds later, shaking as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, telling you how you’re gonna give him another one.
He spilled his own load into the condom moments later, pulling out and pulling you into his chest, both of your hearts beating impossibly fast.
He helped you clean up, wiping your body with a wet cloth after disposing of the used condom, helping you into a pair of his boxers, and giving you a t-shirt to cover everything else.
"Not that you need to. I appreciate having some eye candy to look at," he said cockily, holding the shirt over your head, just out of your reach
You looked up at him, hands covering your naked tits, "Where's this cocky energy when we're out in shops, huh? Would've made exposure therapy so much easier."
He dumped the t-shirt on your head and shoved you lightly as you burst into laughter, pulling on the t-shirt before throwing your arms around his neck.
"S'only for you. All for you." He said, carrying you back into bed and wrapping his arms around you, "Always for you."
"Love you, Buck."
"Love you too, Doll."
fin.
buy me a coffee
940 notes · View notes
hanasnx · 10 months
Text
MINORS DNI 18+
HOBIE BROWN knows how humiliatingly attracted you are to him. Anything he does with his certain spunk or spirit, makes you rethink your decision to stay away from each other.
He’s respected your need for space, but you have a sneaking suspicion he wants to rub your nose in what you’re missing out on.
Even amongst others, he’s shameless, eating a veggie burger of all things across from you. His elbows are propped onto the table, hunched over his meal as he devours it. It’s absolutely primitive. Sauce and grease coating his mouth (glistening in a way that prompts a recollection of after he’s gone down on you) and running down his hands. While you speak you trail off, his attentive hums of confirmation filling your ears with his addicting, deep, rumbling voice. Reminiscent of how he used to softly moan against your neck while buried inside you. You shift in your seat, unconsciously searching for friction as he meets your gaze because you’ve fallen quiet. His long, ringed fingers drop the food onto his plate so carelessly, and when he plunges them into his mouth to lick them clean you barely keep it together. Watching him sloppily suck and lick remnants off his deft digits. How his plump lips wrap around them, and the sound he makes popping off of them.
Your eyelashes flutter when you swallow hard, realizing how quick your breathing has escalated to the point of manually slowing it down.
“Problem?” he asks in an innocent manner, but since you know him it comes off as a tease.
You shake your head, wringing your sweating hands in your lap. Your cursed brain surfaces memories of how those fingers of his have brought you to paradise. To the brink, only to pull you back. To orgasm, to tears.
“No, no problem at all.” Perhaps you should rethink your necessity for space. It’s not like you have to tell the society that you and Hobie are fucking on the side. As long as it stays secret, why wouldn’t you take advantage of your attraction?
“Good,” he tosses the word at you, as if he pretends not to know what he’s doing to you. “Wouldn’t want my favorite spider to be cross wit’ me.”
3K notes · View notes
d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 9 months
Text
don't give up on me.
Regulus Black x F!Reader
Summary: You're sick. Regulus knows that. But how can he convince you that you're worth saving?
Word Count: 6.5K
Warnings: IN DEPTH DISCUSSIONS OF EDS, WEIGHT LOSS, THROWING UP, FAINTING, HOSPITAL WING VISITS, ANY AND ALL ED-RELATED WARNINGS
AN: If this kind of content is triggering for you, PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING!!! nothing is more important to me than y'all keeping yourselves healthy - both mentally and physically! If this shit helps you then, here ya go :) (P.S. the summary is really bad sorry!!)
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You ran back to the dorms, promising Pandora that you'd be back before breakfast. Lie.
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Every day was pretty much the same: you weighed yourself on the muggle scale that you'd snuck into your bags behind your dad's back, and then based on that number, you'd eat. Or you wouldn't. It was easy to miss mealtimes - you'd make the excuse of needing to finish some homework or having forgotten something in the dorms. If you went to the hall during mealtimes, you'd put a little food on your plate and push it around to make it seem like you'd eaten loads when you hadn't touched anything at all.
If the number on the scale weren't acceptable to some extreme standard you'd set yourself to, then you'd spiral - only small amounts of food, you'd go on a run before dinner (strategically showing up late enough that there wouldn't be much left), calling yourself the worst names in the mirror.
It was a routine that you hated - you wanted to kick it, but you couldn't. It was a safety net. You needed control, and this was the only way to have it. It was your drug and you were dependent on it.
It had started as a need to look better, more like your sister. She was taller, skinnier, better at everything she did. You wanted that. So you started skipping meals, spending more time doing workouts - you'd bought one of those muggle aerobics DVDs, and you'd follow it almost every day. You lost a few kilograms in the first few weeks of summer, and the pride of achieving your goal outweighed the hunger pains and headaches. Your weight became an obsession to you and you weighed yourself after every meal and in the morning and night, and your diet to become healthier quickly became a desire to be smaller.
It didn't help that you remained invisible to everyone except your few Hogwarts friends. They owled you frequently, begging you to come up to London so you could spend time together, but you lived too far away for that to be possible. Your dad was busy all the time - it wasn't easy for him after the divorce - and your sister was busy with all her friends. They didn't like you very much, finding you odd as you went to school so far away. They left you alone for the most part - you only saw them when your sister agreed to drive you somewhere.
Not eating became natural after a while: the hunger pains stopped being painful, the headaches disappeared, and the desire to eat had all but disappeared. No one really noticed - you were pretty good at hiding your tricks - but your quickly shrinking body was noticeable. Your dad brought it up once, worried about how your clothes looked so big on your body: he offered to drive you to the doctors, wondering if being a wizard meant that you were more prone to getting sick. You shook your head, telling him that you were fine, but you made a mental reminder to buy much baggier clothes to hide the weight loss.
After that, you quickly went from loving your new body to despising it. You hid every inch of your skin even in the height of summer - hiding under baggy clothes, blankets, and behind pillows. You shoved your mirror to the back of your wardrobe.
By the time you went back to Hogwarts in September, your robes were far too big for you. You'd altered them sneakily: you kept the robes you had but they rested on your body better.
You'd avoided hugs from your friends, lying about an injured arm, but you'd happily reunited with them on the Hogwarts express. They all commented on how they were loving your new look - you smiled sadly at the reason. You remember getting off the train onto the platform - Regulus had helped you down from the train, gripping your hand tightly as you stepped off. As your friends dragged you away, you'd looked back at him. He'd looked almost concerned.
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You came back to the Great Hall halfway through breakfast. You sat down with your friend, adjusting your collar where it was rubbing against your neck. You felt uncomfortable, almost like there was an emptiness in the back of your mind.
Pandora caught your eyes mouthing, are you ok? You nodded in response. You grabbed a glass of water and some fruit. Your throat was so dry and every single movement made you nauseous. It's fine, you told yourself, you can run it off before Charms. You're fine.
You were lying to yourself. You weren't okay, you had a problem and you knew it. But you couldn't pluck up the courage to go to Madam Pomfrey and get help. This was comfortable. You never wanted to go back to the way it was before - constantly hating your body for the way it looked in clothing, jealous of what others looked like. You'd take a few bad days like this over that.
You yawned. You were exhausted but your sleep wasn't restful or comfortable. Some parts of your body would always be sore when you woke up.
You felt someone move to sit next to you, and before you could turn to see who it was, they grabbed the apple out of your hand. You turned to protest, before seeing Regulus' pointed look and the knife in his hand. He began to cut up small slices and feed them to you, not giving you time to protest until the apple was finished and entirely consumed.
"Get a room lovebirds, someone from down the table called, but Regulus was quick to shoot them the finger. You smiled at that and Regulus let out a breath at the sight of it.
"It's nice to see you smile, canari. You don't seem to do it as much anymore," He said lowly, making sure his voice was only for you.
You pat his shoulder to reassure him, trying to hide your panicked mind behind gentle touches. He smiled at you before standing up to leave. He offered you a hand, which you gratefully took, and you both headed towards Defense Against the Dark Arts - your first lesson of the day.
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That night, you had been planning on skipping dinner. You had convinced Pandora and Barty that you had an essay for Professor McGonagall that you hadn't even started, and they had believed you. They left you in the common room, promising to bring back one of your favourites - a Pumpkin Pasty. All was well.
You slipped out of your dorm room and down the stairs to the front door, heading out for a quick run.
"Where do you think you're going?" A voice cut through the cool air. You shut your eyes. Busted.
Regulus walked up to you, raising his eyebrows and waiting for an answer. "Tell me, Reggie, does growing up rich make you so entitled or are you just naturally a pompous ass?"
He laughed, throwing his head back, and grabbing your hand, "I'm going to let it go because you haven't eaten anything and you're probably hangry." He dragged you down to the Great Hall, even as you dragged your feet.
He pulled you in and sat you down by his side, piling your plate high with all the foods he knew were your favourite. If your anxiety wasn't spiraling, you would be touched that Regulus knew exactly what you liked and what you didn't.
People were sat all around the table, making small talk and eating. You took deep breaths as nonchalantly as you could, cutting up the food Regulus had piled on your plate. You didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem - you’d have a few days of no one noticing you skipping meals, then you could comfortably eat dinner with no worries. You could prepare for that. But, after breakfast this morning was sprung on you, you didn’t think you should be eating this soon. I mean you had only just run off the apple you had for breakfast. How were you going to keep your weight down if you were gorging yourself on the most unhealthy food every minute of every day.
You tried to join in with the conversation every so often, pushing things around on your plate as you did so. You thought you were hiding it well, but you caught Regulus glancing at you in concern, every time you finished speaking.
Catching onto this habit, you worriedly stood up, grabbing your things and getting ready to go.
“Leaving again so early?” Barty asked, grabbing your wrist. He looked at the wrist almost concerned but you tugged your hand away. You looked around the table before your eyes landed on Regulus, concern filling his face.
You swallowed nervously, “Yeah, I'm going to head up to bed. Goodnight,” You stepped over the bench and left through one of the back doors. Regulus watched you leave. Something didn’t sit right with him.
As soon as you rounded the corner, you picked up the pace almost breaking into a jog. You made it down the stairs to the Slytherin common room, heart pounding in your chest and nearly threw yourself up the stairs to your dorm. You closed the door and locked yourself in the bathroom. You were usually methodical about this process, you had a system. But you were desperate at this point. You tied your hair up messily and filled up a hidden water bottle at the sink before chugging it and turning to the toilet. 
Back in the Great Hall, Regulus decided that he was going to go check on you. He excused himself and bid everyone a good night - just like you had - before heading in the direction of the Slytherin dorm. 
You were bent over the toilet, retching. You hated this so much. It didn’t feel good - it almost hurt - but you felt so relieved doing it. You couldn’t explain it. It was somehow the one thing that helped you feel better.
Regulus quickly made his way up the stairs to face your dorm. The stairs were enchanted to stop the boys from climbing up them, but Regulus was able to jump and skip a few steps to make it to the top. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to you. Not now.
Regulus knocked on your dorm door, to which he was met with silence. You couldn’t hear him. Not liking the feeling in his gut, he slowly pushed the door open. To his surprise, you weren’t there.
From the bathroom, he heard the faint sound of someone retching. Regulus furrowed his brows. You hadn't seemed sick this morning. Why didn’t you say something? You were going to go on a walk, for Merlin's sake! Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the bathroom door, pressing his ear to the door. That was definitely you retching. He knocked. You froze.
“Canari? Are you okay in there?” He asked, leaning against the door.
Shit. 
You scrambled to get up, quickly flushing the toilet and washing your hands.
"Canari?"
You splashed your face with water before replying, “I’m fine, Reg.” You cursed yourself for the wavering in your voice.
You turned to the mirror - you were a mess, your tear-streaked face red and splotchy. You washed your face, trying to get rid of as much inflammation as you could. 
You took a deep breath and leaned against the sink. How could you have been so stupid? How were you going to talk yourself out of this?
“Can you open the door, please?” Regulus said. He was half intending to break the door down, but he wouldn't violate you like that.
You sighed and opened the door with your head down. You tried to walk past Regulus, but he gently pulled you towards him, your head resting just over his heart. His finger tilted your face upwards, his eyes widening at your red eyes and face. 
“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” he asked.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You tried to pry yourself away from him, but he wasn't letting you go so easily.
“You’re not fine if you’re throwing up. What's really going on?”
“It’s nothing. I had a stomach bug over the summer. Sometimes it acts up a little. It's fine. I'm fine.” you affirmed. Your solidness was almost more to convince yourself than him.
One look at Regulus told you he was not convinced. He pulled you back into his chest. "You sure that's all it is? You'll tell me if it gets worse?"
"Yeah, Reg, I'll tell you if it gets worse. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."
"It's okay, Canari. As long as you are okay, it's okay."
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You managed to avoid any more confrontations until Christmas. You decided to stay at school over the Christmas holidays, like you usually did, which meant no friends to worry about your ever-growing problem.
You woke up to a dry throat and a pounding headache. The usual. You coaxed your body into slumping out of bed and you brushed your teeth. God, you looked a mess. The dark circles under your eyes were prominent and your face was pale and gaunt. You almost looked like a skeleton.
The sun was pretty high in the sky - it was probably almost afternoon. Shit. How could you have slept half the day away? It's fine you'll just have to stay up later tonight to finish all your essays. You walked out into the dorm to be greeted with 4 other empty beds - everyone else had gone home for the holidays. You figured it was probably safer to stay at school than to go home looking so terrible.
Begrudgingly, you pulled on a pair of jeans and a Slytherin sweater you were almost sure wasn't yours, and slipped down to the common room. You'd left an essay for Professor Binns in front of the fireplace - you had rushed to the bathroom after Barty had practically force-fed you a few. You'd blamed it on the fact you got a dog food-flavoured one (you didn't - it was chocolate brownie, which was almost worse), but the side-long glance Regulus had given you made you retreat into your dorm room for the rest of the night.
Still, you needed to finish that essay and you headed down the steps, pausing halfway down to calm your racing heart. The common room was cold and empty - it usually was in the winter, given that most Slytherin students went home for the break. You shivered violently - the cold that nestled into your bones in early October had refused to leave. Now, without at least a jumper or two under your robes, you were constantly shivering.
You glanced at all the tables - there was no parchment or quills. There was no one still here that would want to steal your essay or your quills, so you were surprised to see all your stuff gone and the common room completely clean. You searched everywhere in case the house elves had moved it while cleaning, but you couldn't find it anywhere.
Tears started brimming in your eyes knowing that those were the only quills you had and there wasn't much chance that you could afford to buy a whole set of new ones and finish your essay before Christmas day.
"Good morning, Canari." You whirled around to see Regulus standing behind you, his obsidian-black suit perfectly ironed and immaculately clean. His hair was perfectly coiffed - as it usually was - and his face clean of the stubble you knew that he was able to grow. Not a hair out of place. Never a hair out of place. Why couldn't you be more like Regulus - perfect without trying. Skinny and pretty and fun to be around. Not always worrying about if you were trying too hard.
A lone tear slipped out of your eye and down your face. Regulus was there in an instant, his hands grasping your face, thumbs wiping away any tears.
"What's wrong, Canari? Why are you crying?" Regulus said, pulling you into his chest. You felt him stiffen against you, his fingers running over your protruding spine. But you nestled into his warmth, the chill in your bones just barely sated by his heat.
You looked up into his eyes, sniffling, "Someone took all my stuff."
"What?"
"I forgot my stuff down here last night - my essay for Binns and all my quills were on the table, but now they're gone," your breathing picked up as you began to panic, "And I can't afford to buy a whole new pack of quills, which means that I won't be able to finish any of my other essays and Professor McGona-"
"Canari. I have your stuff." Regulus interrupted, his arms running up and down your back, "It's okay. I took it to my dorm before I went to bed. Here." Regulus led you to the staircase leading up to his dorm and made you wait as he dashed upstairs and got your things. He handed them to you in a neat pile before leading you back to your dorm with his hand on your lower back. "Put your stuff away and then come down with me. Let's eat breakfast together."
Alarm bells started ringing in your head. Eat? Now? With so much to do? How could you waste your time? But you couldn't make Regulus more suspicious of your behaviour.
You head down to the Great Hall with him, pulling at your sleeves as he placed all manner of pies and treats on your plate. You felt nauseated by the smell alone.
It didn't skip your notice how Regulus looked at you as if you were going to break at any second. Hell, he probably thought you already had.
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You turned the corner off the path to head into the Forbidden Forest. If any of the Professors found you out here they'd give you a detention. That coincidentally would mean that you missed dinner. Two birds, one stone.
You set off on your run, keeping to the border of the forbidden forest, but deep enough in that no one would be able to see you without looking. You kept a steady pace - you were used to this routine. If you overate, you'd run until you felt exhausted and then you'd slip back into the dorm and skip dinner.
Except the snow was never normally this heavy and with every breath you exhaled a puff of smoke left your lungs. The inhales were almost painful, the cold air rough on your fragile lungs. You could hear your heart pounding in your head and your ears were starting to ring but you ploughed on.
What a mistake that was. You feel your foot slipping before you can even grab onto something. The next thing you know everything was black.
Regulus was worried. He'd paid close attention to your ever-deteriorating health, and he was worried, to say the least. After you'd run from lunch with him and Barty, he'd followed you back to the dorm. You hadn't even noticed him trailing you as you almost ran back to the common room. You'd slammed your dorm door shut and hadn't left for hours. You'd finally left when you thought no one was in the common room, dressed in some sweatpants and a jumper that was far too thin for this ghastly weather. He'd grabbed his own coat and a spare jacket for you, before following you through the hallways. He'd contemplated calling your name once, but clearly, there was something going on. And Regulus wanted to know what.
You'd slipped out of one of the doors to the courtyard and set off on a light jog down toward Hagrid's hut. That's odd, Regulus thought, you didn't have detention. Of course, it didn't pass his mind that you may just be running. After all, who would willingly go on a run in the middle of December in Scotland. Still, he watched as you ran down the steps that led to the now frost-covered pumpkin patches. Maybe you needed to collect something from him, he thought. Yes, that's probably it. Far more likely than Miss 'golden-girl' having a detention. Professor Kettleburn probably needed something and sent you to go get it.
His confusion only multiplied when you bypassed Hagrid's hut and disappeared into the thicket of the Forbidden Forest. Regulus picked up his pace, making sure that he wasn't caught as he followed your footsteps. He tried to keep up but you were always a faster runner than him, always making it to class on time even if you were both running late. He quickly lost you, having to resort to tracking your footsteps through the deep snow. He was ever more confused as to why you were out here - if anyone caught you here, you'd have a month's worth of evening detentions. Not the best way to start the year.
When he finally caught up to you, his heart dropped to his feet. You were lying face down in the snow, clothing soaked through. He knelt beside you, his hands running over your face as he softly called your name. Your skin was cold to the touch, causing Regulus to panic. He quickly bundled you up in the spare coat he brought with him. He removed the scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around yours, before tucking your hands into the pocket of the jacket.
He hoisted you up in his arms, wrapping his arms securely under your body. He slowly started walking back to the castle, being careful to avoid anyone seeing him leave the Forbidden Forest - the last thing he needed was the both of you getting in more trouble. He carried you through the hallways to the hospital wing, rapping his knuckles sharply against the window while you remained unconscious in his arms.
Madam Pomfrey was quick to open the door and, at the sight of your unconscious body, ushered you both inside, helping Regulus to lay you on one of the free beds. She laid a thick blanket over you and dug out a heating potion to dispel the chill from your bones. Regulus just sat by your side and held your hand. It was ice-cold as usual, but somehow Regulus never wanted to let go.
"...Mr. Black?" Madam Pomfrey asked, but Regulus had missed the question while he was staring at you. He looked up at her questioningly, silently asking her to repeat the question, "I said, will you get some dry clothes for her? I trust that you have something you can give her."
Regulus nodded dumbly, leaving the hospital wing before breaking into a run. He ran upstairs and pulled a sweater and some sweatpants for you. They would be big on you but hopefully, they would keep you from getting too cold. His heart was pounding as he returned to the hospital wing.
He diligently gave the jumper and sweatpants to Madam Pomfrey, before turning around so she could change your clothes modestly. It was nothing he hadn't seen before, he wanted to tell Madam Pomfrey, but somehow he was sure that she wouldn't appreciate that sentiment.
Once she was done and you were nestled under two layers of blankets and in clean clothes, Madam Pomfrey turned back to Regulus.
"Mr. Black, I'm going to have to collect a report from this accident from you, if you would so oblige."
"Uhh, of course, yeah. Um, well," Regulus prided himself on being a good liar, but under so much pressure, not so much. "We found a - uh - salamander on the fifth floor by the library when we were studying there earlier. She said she'd go tell Hagrid so she headed down to his hut. I wanted to find her to finish my essay before dinner so I headed down to see Hagrid, but then I found her lying in the snow."
Madam Pomfrey nodded, "Did Hagrid find out about the Salamander?"
Regulus nodded, "Yeah, one of the third years told him. I heard them talking about it while I was looking for her." It wasn't a total lie. Two third years had found a Salamander by the fifth-floor boys' toilets. They'd told Hagrid, and Regulus had overheard them talking about it.
Madam Pomfrey nodded, sealing away the report and filing it away. Regulus stood up to go back to the common room when Madam Pomfrey stopped him.
"She's incredibly thin, Mr. Black. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Regulus shook his head, "It's worrying how underweight she is. You haven't noticed anything? Anything out of the ordinary?"
Regulus shook his head again before turning around to leave the hospital wing. He knew something was wrong. He just didn't know what.
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When you opened your eyes, the first thing you could feel was heat. You were warm. After months of being on the edge of freezing all the time, it was nice.
The second thing you noticed was the smell of cologne. A familiar cologne. Regulus' cologne. It was an expensive one - the Black family was rich and they weren't scared to show it off.
You opened your eyes slowly, grateful for the darkness. You looked towards the window to see that it was nighttime. You furrowed your brow in confusion. You could have sworn that it was just past lunch. You pushed yourself up further only to realise that you were in the hospital wing.
Before you could push yourself up even further, a voice interrupted you, "And just where do you think you're going, young lady?" Madam Pomfrey walked up to you with a glass of pumpkin juice in hand and two tablets. "You're dehydrated. And possibly have a concussion. You should be glad Mr. Black found you when he did."
Regulus found me? How the hell did he know where I was?
You took the pills from her hand and swallowed them down quickly. You savoured the taste of the Pumpkin Juice - it had been so long since you'd had the calorie-filled drink.
You turned to the door just in time to see Regulus walk in. It was as if he had exhaled for the first time seeing you awake. His shoulders dropped, his chest relaxed and all the tension in his face melted away.
He sat by your side gently, letting you finish the juice. Madam Pomfrey spoke up again, "Now, young lady, do you want to explain that nasty little fainting spell?" She said, her eyebrows raised as she scrutinised you.
"Uhh, well - I was - uh - walking down to Hagrid's hut, and - uh - my ears started ringing, and I think I fell." You said, your voice hoarse from disuse.
"And it has nothing to do with the fact that you are underweight?" Madam Pomfrey pressed.
"I've just been nauseous the last few days." You lied quickly, slightly recoiling under her heavy words, "I think it's stress but it might be a bug. I remember Pandora complaining about her stomach the night before she went home."
Madam Pomfrey seemed convinced. Regulus less so. As soon as Madam Pomfrey left, he turned to you.
"You lied." You shifted nervously under his intense gaze.
"I didn't. I have been nauseous all week."
"If you were nauseous, why were you on a run?"
"I thought the fresh air might help."
"Fresh air in the Forbidden Forest? Bullshit." Your heart dropped. He'd followed you there.
"Why did you follow me?"
"Why were you there alone? If I hadn't followed you and you'd fainted, you would have been dead by the time anyone found you."
"Oh, so I guess that means I should thank you now, should I? Oh, thank His Lordship, Mr. Black for saving my life, even thOUGH NO ONE ASKED HIM TOO!" You exclaimed, seething. You threw his hands off you and tried to push him away but he refused to budge.
"Stop being difficult," Regulus said, pulling the blankets back over your frail body.
"OH I'M BEING DIFF-"
"JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH!" He interrupted, his blue eyes blazing with fury. You could just about pick out the lingering concern that was embedded in his gaze. You saw red.
"GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! LEAVE ME ALONE!" You pushed Regulus away with every ounce of strength in your body. He fell off the chair, crashing to the ground in an undignified heap.
You watched, in horror at what you'd done, as he walked over to the door. He cast you a longing glance as he left, almost as if he was begging you, pleading you to let him in, to not shut him out. To let him help you.
You sighed. You weren't sure if you could be helped.
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On Christmas Eve, Madam Pomfrey let you go back to your own bed, with the promise that you'd visit her every day so she could check up on you. Regulus hadn't visited since you told him to leave, and a small part of you was glad that he hadn't. The rest of you had missed him dearly.
You felt him walk up to you as you lounged on one of the sofas in front of the fire.
"Room for one more?" He asked hesitantly, standing in front of you. You shuffled to the edge of the sofa to give him room to sit down.
"So how are you?" He said, hands toying with his wand as he tried to avoid staring at you.
"We don't have to do this, Reg. Can we just let it go?" You sighed, hoping that you didn't have to get into this conversation right now.
"Yes, we do. Tell me, Canari, are you feeling better?"
"I'm fine, Reg." You both sat in awkward silence, not exactly knowing how to approach this conversation. "I'm gonna - uh - go. Now. Uh - bye."
You stood up, trying to escape into your dorm room, but Regulus beat you to it - blocking you with his body. It wasn't fair that he was almost a whole head taller than you.
"No, what's going on? Are you sick?" Regulus insisted, hands coming up to brush your arms. You shuddered at the gentle touch, but he still didn't pull away.
“Reg-”
“Canari.” he insisted. "Don't lie to me."
You took a deep breath. "I'm sick," you whispered quietly, but loud enough for Regulus to hear it.
He shifted on his feet, “What do you mean?”
You looked at him, noting the tears building up on his lash line. Regulus never cried. More than once, Barty had joked that the 'snowman didn't have a heart'. You shook your head, "It won’t make sense."
"Then help me understand."
You took a few breaths, trying to get your thoughts in order. Regulus led you back to the couch, his large warm hands covering your cold frail ones. You tried to get your thoughts in order, tried to figure out where to start. Well, it's probably best to start at the beginning. “I don’t know what happened. I was just supposed to lose a little weight. I started eating less, doing some muggle workouts. And it worked. But now - now, now I just can't stop." you finished.
Regulus' face contorted to one of concern. You avoided his gaze, your eyes filled with tears at finally revealing your secret. Regulus pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his chest. You nestled into them, your head of his heart as sobs started to wrack your body. Regulus held you tightly, whispering that it would be okay. He breathed deeply and steadily, hoping you would fall into rhythm with him. 
Eventually, your heaving breaths slowed, and you began to calm down. After a few moments of silence, Bucky asked “How long has this been going on?”
"Since the summer break. But I think the problem's been going on a lot longer than that." You whispered into his chest, defeated.
Regulus took a deep breath, his mind relaying all the suspicious behaviour he'd picked up on over the past term. "Why didn’t you say anything?"
You shrugged weakly, "It wasn’t your problem."
You jostled in his lap as he turned you to face him. "Canari. Your problems are my problems. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm here? Because I want to be here. For you. I want to help, Canari. Please." You avoided his gaze because you knew what you'd find. Genuine concern. Something you weren't sure if you deserved. "You always help me or anyone else whenever we need it. Remember when Pandora had those nightmares for months and every night you'd hold her hand until she fell asleep? Or when Barty told us that he was afraid of the dark so you gave him an enchanted tea candle that would never go out? Hmm? If we were going through this, wouldn’t you want to help us?"
"Of course, I would," you said firmly, tears building up in your eyes again. You rubbed the way with the corner of your sleeve, but Regulus caught your hand.
"So why can’t you let me help you the same way?" he asked, his eyes shining with sincerity.
You shook your head lightly, "It’s not that simple, Reg."
"Why?"
"Because.”
"Because what?"
"It's just not the same," you said a little louder, pushing yourself off his lap. You had to put a distance between him and yourself, or you knew that you would break. You turned around heading in any direction that was not here, not in front of the only man capable of reducing you to tears.
"I don't get it. What’s the difference between me and you? Why can’t you-"
“Because I don’t HATE you!” you exclaimed, turning around to face him again. The pain in your eyes was evident as you tried to shrink further into yourself. Regulus was up in an instant, cradling your head in his hands as if you were a porcelain doll. You took a shuddering breath, "It’s not the same thing because I don’t hate you. I want to help you all, because you are good people, and I like you."
Tears streamed down your face as the confession spilled from your lips. You told him about everything, the loneliness, the self-loathing, the punishments, everything. Regulus stood there as you sobbed in his arms and confessed to him, taking every beating and tucking it away in the corner of his frozen heart that was reserved for you.
When you had finally settled, Regulus looked at you sadly. His gaze was heavy as if he was trying to see if there were any other secrets you were hiding. "Is that really how you feel about yourself?" he asked, saddened even more when you began nodding. "What did you do that was so wrong?"
You didn’t know. The loneliness that had plagued your childhood had melted into the insecurity that you didn't belong anywhere, and you never would. So slowly, you accepted that you never would. Your voice was weak when you spoke up again, "I'm sick, Reg. I know that. But I don't think this kind of sick can be healed by one of Madam Pomfrey's potions. People catch colds or break bones - those can be fixed. And once it's fixed, it won’t bother them again. But this," you gestured your body repeatedly, "this I don’t know if I fix. I don’t know how, I don’t know where to start. It’s me against me. It's a losing game. I’m not the kind of sick that gets better, Reg," you shrugged slightly and shook your head.
Regulus wrapped his arms around you tighter, "There's always a cure."
"Not for me."
"No. You're not giving up. YOU CAN'T FUCKING GIVE UP WHEN YOU HAVEN'T EVEN TRIED TO GET BETTER!" Regulus wasn't one to lose composure ever. In fact, Regulus wasn't one to show much emotion at all, but here he was, crying and yelling over you. Trying to convince you to get better. He tucked his chest into you, whispering, "Please. Please, you can't- you can't leave me here. Not alone, please, Canari."
You rested your face on his head, your cheek pressed against his beautiful curly hair. You stayed like that, you pulled into his lap, his head cocooned into your chest, your head laying on the top of his head. Both of you expended every last tear in your body before he spoke up again.
“Can I try to help?"
"Hmm?"
"I mean you want to get better? Right?" Regulus removed himself from your chest and looked into your eyes. His hands traveled to rest on your face. You nodded. "You can always talk to me about anything," You avoided his gaze, "you know that right?"
At the uncertain look on your face, Regulus stiffened. You quickly spoke up, "It’s not that I don’t trust you. I do, but-" You paused thinking how best to word this.
"Yes?"
"It’s just that I don’t want to disappoint you," you said, your voice trailing off as you spoke. "I don’t want to fuck up and end up hurting you because I couldn’t be better. I don’t want you to worry every bloody day. You don't deserve that." you took a deep breath and looked away again. "I don’t want you to leave because I couldn’t be strong for you."
"Is that really what you think I would do?" Regulus asked, his tone growing angrier. You cowered under his anger, and Regulus noticed. He tried to level his breathing as he continued, "I would never be disappointed with you, because you're trying your best. You said it: you're sick. And sometimes it takes time to heal. And you're healing for you, so that you can have a happy life. A long life." He paused, considering whether to add this next part, "No matter whether that life has me in it."
You leaned into him again, his arms wrapping you into a tight hug. Your life would always have Regulus in it, no matter how long, short, sick, or healthy it would end up being. Regulus made you promise to go back to Madam Pomfrey in the morning to tell her the whole truth.
"Promise you will be there the whole time?" you asked softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, and exhaustion washed over you.
His arms tightened around you, "I promise. As long as you promise not to give up. Even when it gets hard."
You smiled your first proper smile in what felt like an age.
"I promise."
fin.
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