letthefuckeduptimesflow

Latest Posts by letthefuckeduptimesflow

Siren

Summary : Bucky is obsessed with you. He is insanely, hopelessly, unhealthily obsessed with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Grumpy x Sunshine, Wife!reader, sweet!reader, sex references. Love taken to an extreme. A lot of cursing, Congressman!Bucky, threats, obsessive love bordering on stalking, possessive love. Overprotective!Bucky, Jealous! Bucky, dark!Bucky, dark!you, Overprotective!you. You are Sam and Sarah’s childhood best friend, canon-typical violence. I feel like I have to disclose that Bucky does not hurt you at any point in this story. Let me know if I miss anything! 

Word count : 8.9k

Note : This is probably my most cursing-heavy story. This is fictional story, so please do not get into an unhealthily obsessive relationship irl. I will also be posting a new part of Super Soldier Support Group tomorrow! Enjoy!

It started with a casual gathering at the Wilson Family home. Nothing fancy, just good food, loud music, and a backyard full of people laughing. 

It was warm, the kind of sticky Louisiana heat that made the air feel weirdly refreshing— the perfect day for Sam to throw one of his famous family cookouts.

Bucky hadn’t wanted to go, not that day anyway. He had not been sleeping well that week, and that made him grumpy. Well, grumpier than usual. 

He wasn’t sure if he could handle the crowd, or the small talk. 

But Sam had insisted, and somehow a sleep-deprived Bucky found himself standing in the corner of the docks, watching from a distance while the party went on without him.

Then he saw you.

And suddenly, everything stopped.

You were laughing, standing next to Sarah and helping with the food. You had this bright energy about you, like sunshine breaking through a dark cloud.

From the very first moment he saw you, something inside Bucky snapped. It wasn’t attraction—it was possession. His brain, his soul, whatever dark, broken part of him that was still capable of love— latched onto you like a parasite. You were too beautiful. Too sweet. Too—fuck, what was he thinking?

“C’mon man,” Sam’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Don’t just stand there looking like you’re planning a murder. I want you to meet someone.”

Bucky frowned but let Sam drag him forward anyway. His stomach twisted when he realised Sam was leading him straight to you.

“This is my childhood best friend,” Sam introduced you, “Be nice to her, Buck.”

You turned from your conversation to face him, and…Jesus Christ.

This was even worse up close. You had such a pretty smile, and the most wonderful eyes. You didn’t even have to try to brighten up the room.

“Hi,” you greeted, offering your hand.

Bucky hesitated. He didn’t like touching strangers—hell, he barely liked touching people he knew—but then you looked at him again, and—fuck.

Before he could talk himself out of it, his flesh fingers wrapped around yours.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t react the way people so often did when they realised who he was. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky,” you said softly. “Sam’s told me a lot about you.”

Bucky’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. All he could manage was a stiff nod.

Sam, standing beside you, cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes at Bucky. “Be civil, okay?” He was already overthinking this, assuming this could go sideways fast. Sam wanted you two to get along more than anything in the world— he would at least want his childhood best friend and his work best friend to be able to stand in a room together without ripping each other’s head off— but he wasn’t counting on it.

Confused, you scrunched your nose. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Bucky wanted to know the same thing.

“Because,” Sam said, exasperated, “you’re polar opposites. You’re too damn nice for your own good, and Barnes here is all doom and gloom. He hates people. You love people.”

You turned your eyes back to Bucky, considering the former winter soldier before smiling, and subsequently melting Bucky’s heart. 

“I don’t know, Sam,” you said. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

—

Bucky kept his distance throughout the day. 

Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

You were too much. Too sweet, it felt like he was getting a sugar rush just looking at you. 

It was overwhelming. 

And it wasn’t just that he liked you. It was worse than that. 

In the short time he had known you, he had already begun craving you.

But you made it worse.

You sought him out, found excuses to talk to him, tried to make him laugh.

And god help him, but he liked it.

He liked the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled at him. He liked the way you said his name. He liked the way your hand traced his metal arm when you spoke to him.

“Bucky,” you called at one point, while Sam worked the grill, “Try this.”

He glanced down at the spoon you were holding out to him, brows furrowed. “What is it?”

You chuckled like you already knew you had him wrapped around your finger. “Just try it.”

He sighed, and then you pressed a hand to his chest, steadying yourself as you lifted the spoon to his lips.

He froze, and before he could even process what was happening, he was opening his mouth, letting you feed him.

You watched him, waiting for his reaction. “Well?”

Bucky blinked, chewing slowly. It was… good. Really good.

But admitting that felt like surrender, so he just shrugged. “It’s fine.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Liar.”

Then, you laughed. 

He didn’t just want to hear it again—he needed to. It was like a drug, a high he had to chase. 

Fuck.

That was it.

That was the moment he was done for.

Because you had no idea what you’d just done. No idea that you had ruined him.

No idea that he had just decided— you were his.

—

Later, after the sun had set and most of the guests had left, Bucky sat at the edge of the porch, elbows on his knees, watching you.

Or, more accurately, he was staring at you.

You were a few feet away, laughing as AJ and Cass ran circles around you, their small hands grabbing at your arms as you playfully tried to catch them.

Bucky couldn’t look away.

He knew you were going to be his downfall, and yet he didn’t even want to fight it.

“What’s up with you, Buck?” Sam asked, sitting beside him.

Bucky didn’t move, he didn’t even respond. He barely even registered that Sam was there at all.

Sam followed his line of sight, and then groaned. “Oh, hell no.”

Still, Bucky said nothing.

Sam snapped his fingers in front of Bucky’s face. “Yo. Terminator.”

Bucky blinked. He only just realised Sam was there. “What?”

“What?” Sam repeated, voice rising. “Don’t what me! What the fuck was that?”

Bucky frowned. “What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Sam chuckled, teasing. “You’ve been staring at her like you’re about to drag her off to a cabin in the middle of nowhere and keep her there forever.”

Bucky’s muscles tensed. The idea did sound appealing.

“She’s nice,” Bucky said flatly.

Sam let out an amused laugh. “Nice? Nice? Barnes, you look like you want to fucking eat my childhood best friend—what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Sam was joking, but he wasn’t wrong.

Bucky did want to devour you. He wanted to claim you, protect you, make sure no one else ever got the chance to touch you the way he wanted to.

It was bad.

Because for the first time in decades, Bucky wanted.

Mine, he thought. Mine, mine, mine.

And god help anyone who tried to get in his way.

—

At first, Sam was just relieved that you and Bucky got along.

And before he knew it, the four of you—you, Bucky, Sam, and Joaquin—started hanging out regularly. When she was available, Sarah was there too, usually when the get-togethers happened at her place. It wasn’t anything official, just casual. You’d grab coffee, go on late-night walks along the docks. Sometimes, the five of you spent lazy afternoons at Sarah’s while Cass and AJ tried to rope you into whatever game they were playing.

On the surface, it was just friends spending time together.

But Bucky was always a little bit too possessive.

No one really noticed.

Like when Joaquin would make a joke and you’d laugh a little too hard, Bucky would step in, resting his arm on the back of your chair. When you and Sarah got into a playful argument, and Bucky would subtly shift between you, his body positioned like a barrier.

Or when someone at a bar got a little too interested in you, and Bucky would just stare at them until they backed the fuck off.

You didn’t seem to notice.

You just smiled at Bucky. You reached for his hand when you were deep in thought, leaned into him when you laughed, gave him hugs without him even having to ask.

And he let you.

Because if he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, then he’d settle for this—for now.

—

One day, you heard a knock on your door late at night. 

When you opened it, you found Sam, Joaquin, and Bucky standing there—bruised, bloodied, and looking entirely too pleased with themselves for three men who had clearly just come back from a rough mission.

You sighed. “Come in, boys.”

They filed in, Sam  grinning as he collapsed onto your couch. Joaquin gave you a sheepish ‘sorry’ look before following. Bucky just hovered near the door.

“Sit,” you told him, already grabbing your first aid kit.

He hesitated, then dropped onto the chair closest to you. you knelt beside him.

His knuckles were raw, a few cuts marred his face, and there was a forming bruise on his forehead. You worked on him, dabbing antiseptic onto his wounds.

“Hold still,” you whispered when he shifted under your touch. When you finished, without thinking, you pressed a fleeting kiss to the bruise on his forehead. “For good measure,” you said sheepishly.

Bucky’s breath hitched.

But before he could say anything, you moved on to Sam and Joaquin, fussing over them with the same level of care.

He felt his stomach twist in dread. 

Bucky knew this was irrational. He knew you were just being a good friend.

And yet, as he sat there, watching your hands tend to them—watching you murmur reassurances, watching Joaquin grin at you and Sam chuckle under his breath— with bated breath.

He shouldn’t be jealous. He shouldn’t. You were also Sam’s friend. You were also Joaquin’s friend.

After all, you had taken care of him first. That had to mean something… right?

—

The bar was alive with noise, filled with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional thud of a pool ball being sunk into a pocket. It was one of those rare nights when there were no missions to worry about, no need to be on high alert. Even Sarah managed to get a babysitter for the kids. 

Sarah and Sam stood near the pool table, casually sipping on their non-alcoholic beers. Bucky nursed his whiskey— not that it would do anything to his enhanced metabolism. You had your mocktail, sweet and bright, just like you.

And then there was Joaquin.

He had spent the last hour or so flirting with the bartender, grinning as she giggled and slid him free drink after free drink. He, of course, took every single one without hesitation.

Now, he was absolutely sloshed.

“Joaquin,” Sam teased, arms crossed as he watched your drunk friend lean against the pool table. “You are so lucky you’re pretty.”

Joaquin shot him finger guns. “Gracias, hermano.”

“No,” Sarah scowled, shaking her head, pointing to the blonde behind the bar. “He’s lucky she thinks he’s pretty.”

“Let’s be honest, everyone thinks I’m pretty,” Joaquin declared, before missing his shot so badly that the cue ball bounced off the table.

Bucky rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh. 

You were next, so you stepped up to take your shot. “If anyone fucks up my shot, I am going to scream.”

And then, like a fucking menace, Joaquin swatted your pool cue mid-shot.

You gasped. “You little shit!”

Joaquin cackled.

“That’s it,” you huffed, shaking your head as you set the cue aside. “I’m getting you some water to sober up before you do something actually stupid.”

Sarah took her turn next, and Bucky… felt happy. He was among friends, leaning against the table, watching the game.

Life was good, right?

That bliss lasted all of three minutes before he realised… you were taking too long.

It didn’t take that long to get a glass of water.

He glanced up, scanning the bar for you. 

His stomach dropped. 

You were leaning against the bar, smiling up at some guy. Some asshole who looked way too interested, who was saying something that made you laugh.

Bucky’s chest burned.

Mine, he thought. 

But no. No, no, no. He had no right to feel like this. You weren’t his. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He was just a friend.

Then why the fuck did he want to break that guy’s fucking ankles for being too goddamn close to you?

Bucky knew you were beautiful. But that fucker didn’t get to look at you like that. He didn’t get to act all high and mighty, like he even had a chance—

Bucky’s grip on his pool cue tightened.

CRACK.

The cue snapped clean in half.

Sarah’s head snapped toward him. “Man— what happened?”

Sam raised a brow. “You good?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. His breathing was all messed up. 

“I gotta go,” he said hastily. 

Sarah blinked. “You just crushed wood like it was a damn breadstick.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He turned on his heel and left.

—

When he got back to his hotel in the heart of New Orleans, he sat on the edge of his bed, fingers twitching.

Then, he texted you.

Got an emergency. Had to go early.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.

Oh okay!!! Hope everything’s alright <3!

You were so fucking sweet. So fucking clueless.

You had no idea that the emergency… was you.

And that if he hadn’t left, he would have smashed that guy’s face in. 

—

That night, Bucky couldn’t sleep.

It was driving him insane.

The second he closed his eyes, all he could see was you, laughing at the bar, that asshole touching you, and your body leaned just a little too close—fuck.

The obsession burned in his chest. He needed to know. Needed to be sure.

So, like a fucking lunatic, he found himself outside your Louisiana apartment at four in the morning, perched on your fire escape like a creep.

The window was dark, and there didn’t seem to be any movement inside. Maybe you weren’t even home. Maybe you were— No. No, stop. Fuck.

His metal fingers gripped against the railing. If you had taken that guy home—if that motherfucker was in there, in your bed— he didn’t know what he’d do.

"Whatcha doin’?" 

Bucky jumped, damn near slipped right off the fire escape. His heart nearly stopped.

He whirled around, ready to fight, only to see you, standing behind him.

The fuck—?

"Jesus Christ," he rasped, staring at you like you’d just teleported out of thin air. "Why are you on the fire escape?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Why are you on the fire escape?"

Bucky scowled. “I asked you first.”

You shrugged, completely unfazed, and just climbed through the window. "I forgot my keys."

Bucky blinked.

You turned to look at him expectantly. “Well? Are you coming in or what?”

…What the fuck was wrong with you? Why weren’t you scared?

Still, he followed you inside.

—

You made him tea.

He sat on your couch, cradling the mug in his hands while you curled up beside him, watching him with curiosity.

“So,” you started casually, “what was the emergency?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Nothing much,” he lied. “I fixed it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And why were you lurking outside my apartment like some weirdo?”

“I wasn’t lurking.”

You hummed, unconvinced, and sipped your tea.

Bucky let out a deep breath, rubbing a hand down his face. “I was just… checking on you.”

Your lips curved up. “Why?”

He hesitated. He couldn’t tell you the truth. Couldn’t tell you that he’d nearly lost his fucking mind at the thought of you with someone else.

But then, as if he could read your mind, you said, “If you were worried about the guy at the bar, don’t be. He’s just an old friend from high school.” You tilted your head reassuringly. “And he’s gay.”

Bucky blinked.

Oh.

Oh, he was a fucking idiot.

Embarrassment flooded his chest in waves, but it did nothing to ease the gnawing possessiveness coiling around his ribs. It didn’t matter that the guy wasn’t a threat. It didn’t change the fact that Bucky had wanted to break him in half for so much as looking at you.

You set your mug down, shifting closer. “Bucky,” you murmured, “what’s wrong?”

He clenched his teeth. “I have to say something.”

You tilted your head, adorably waiting.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” The words felt dragged out from his throat like he’d been choking on them.

You took a deep breath. “Oh?”

Bucky let out a huff of air, fingers twitching at his sides. “I think—I know—I love you.”

There it was. The confession he could never take back.

Your eyes relaxed as you put your mug down. 

That’s it. This was your rejection. Bucky was sure. 

But then, without hesitation, you cradled his cheeks gently and pulled him down in a bruising kiss.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, hands fisting in your skirt, pulling you closer.

And when you whispered, “I love you, too,” against his lips—

He was fucking gone.

Love wasn’t supposed to be this… all-consuming. It wasn’t supposed to feel like madness. But that was what his love was.

He was everywhere—his greedy hands, both metal and flesh. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, and Bucky growled, lifting you into his lap like you weighed nothing.

You gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding against him in a way that sent his brain into overload.

And when you rocked your hips against his again. when you gasped at him, teasing, taunting—

Bucky snapped.

Suddenly, you were beneath him, pinned to the couch, his body trapping you.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped.

You bit your lip, eyes dark. “Then show me.”

And fuck, did he.

—

The next morning, Bucky jolted awake to the ring of your doorbell. 

For a second, he was disoriented, his brain sluggish, mind still drunk on you.

You were sprawled half on top of him, face buried against his chest. His metal arm was wrapped around you, fingers splayed across your bare back.

The bell rang impatiently again. And then— knock knock knock.

"Yo, wake up!" Sarah shouted.

His eyes flicked to the clock— 9:42 AM.

Carefully, he untangled himself from you, doing his best not to wake you as he slid out of bed. He barely managed to pull his sweats on before another knock rattled the door.

He opened it.

“Huh,” Sarah grinned.

Bucky’s scowl deepened. “What?”

“Don’t what me.” Sarah gestured, pointing an accusatory finger at Bucky’s chest. “What the fuck is this?”

Bucky’s teeth clenched. “None of your business.”

“Oh, I think it is.” Sarah crossed him her arms and almost cackled.

Bucky just let out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was still way too tired for this.

Sarah smirked, waggling her eyebrows. “So? How was it? You’re, like, a hundred years old— did your back hold up?”

“Go,” Bucky gritted.

“Relax,” Sarah shook her head, shoving your wallet into his chest. "Your girl left this in my car."

Bucky blinked, but his mind was still buffering on the part when she called you his girl. "Sarah—“

She held up her hand. "Hey, I’m happy for you. Really. But I’ve known her since we were both in diapers, so uh—" she leaned in. "If you hurt her, just know I will kill you."

Bucky huffed. As if. “Yeah, yeah."

"Good talk." She said as she turned to leave.

From the bed, you stirred, mumbling sleepily, “Was that Sarah?”

Bucky climbed back in beside you. “Don’t worry about it.”

You hummed, curling back into his chest. “Mmkay.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Mine, he thought.

And this time, you knew it too.

—

It had been two years since that night when everything changed.

You had since moved to Brooklyn with Bucky, and had since built a home together.

Two years of waking up with you in his bed.

Two years of you stealing his shirts, dancing around the kitchen in nothing but one of his Henleys and a pair of socks.

Two years of Bucky being so obsessed with you it was a goddamn miracle he let you leave out of his sight at all.

His hand was always on you—on your lower back, your thigh, wrapped around your wrist when you got too distracted in public. His eyes always tracked you whenever you so much as moved. 

Bucky knew it probably wasn’t healthy to be this obsessed— but who the fuck cares?

Besides, no one had noticed. Not really.

Sam rolled his eyes when Bucky hovered too close in public. Joaquin just assumed Bucky was overprotective. Sarah thought it was sweet.

None of them knew just how deep it went.

How Bucky watched you when you slept, how he memorised the way your breath hitched when you dreamed. How he could track scent in a crowd, how he could tell the different sounds of your shoes.

How, sometimes, he just stared at you with this feral, carnal need to keep you his forever.

So one night, he did something about it.

It wasn’t a grand proposal. There were no speeches, no flowers, no kneeling at all.

Bucky just slipped a diamond ring onto your finger as you sat curled up beside him on the couch.

"Let’s get married," he said.

It was not a question. It was a statement.

You looked down at your hand and blinked, joy seeping into your chest. You looked back up at him, tilting your head.

“Okay,” you smiled.

Of course you were gonna marry him. Of course.

It was the most obvious thing in the world.

And Buck felt something primal and dark settle inside him. 

“Good girl,” he said, grabbing your chin and tilling them up to kiss you. 

—

The ceremony was small — just a few close friends and family.

Sam stood at the front, grinning like an idiot, though he was definitely in tears. He tried to deny it, but everyone knew when Sarah dramatically announced she was out of tissues and had to make a store run.

You wore a simple white dress, the sunlight making the lace look holy. 

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off you. He wasn’t sure how he could even breathe. You were so goddamn beautiful, and all he could think was mine.

Mine, mine, mine. 

He held your hands tightly, every vow he spoke was drenched in devotion.

When Sam pronounced you husband and wife, Bucky crashed his lips against yours, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you so desperately it was like he thought you'd disappear. Joaquin cheered, Sarah covered AJ and Cass’ eyes, and Sam muttered something about needing another box of tissues.

But Bucky didn’t care. You were his wife. 

His. 

Later, at the small reception, he barely let you out of his sight. His hand stayed glued to your waist, his lips brushed against your temple every other minute. He religiously watched the way you smiled, the way you laughed, admired the sparkle of your wedding ring — a ring he’d spent months obsessing over.

“Mine,” he whispered against your skin more times than you could count.

—

A year after the wedding, Bucky somehow found himself on the campaign trail. Sam had roped him into it, convinced the world needed someone like him in Capitol Hill— someone with a backbone, a heart, and a no-bullshit attitude. And because Bucky couldn’t say no to his best friend (or to you, when you’d smiled and told him he’d be perfect for it), he ran.

And won.

He was now Congressman James Buchanan Barnes.

But no matter how powerful or important he became, you were still his priority. You were the first person he called after every meeting, the one who made the stuffy suits and long hours bearable. 

And fuck, did he spoil you rotten. He got a four-bedroom Brownstone when you both moved to DC. For the kids to grow up in, he had told you, when you were ready, of course. The house was under your name.

He bought you designer dresses, diamond earrings, the kind of perfume that smelled like liquid gold. Anything you so much as look at, Bucky was ordering it before you even thought to ask.

“You don’t have to do all this,” you’d say, laughing as another velvet box showed up at your doorstep.

“I want to,” Bucky would grumble, nuzzling into your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “I’m your husband. I want to make sure you have everything you want.”

And he meant it.

Then one day, you asked for something that actually made him think.

“I want a pretty knife.”

Bucky blinked. “What?”

“For self-defense,” you explained casually. “You know. Just in case.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. “You?” He asked, still trying to make sense of it. “But Sweetheart, you’re—” He paused, searching for the right word. “You’re so… sweet.”

You smiled at him…. And that fucking smile.

Bucky swore you could’ve asked him for the moon and he would’ve tried to lasso it down for you. But a knife? He wasn’t sure whether you could even use it.

Still, you wanted it. So you got it.

Bucky made a few calls, and soon you had a beautifully crafted knife with a marble handle. He even made you practice holding it, standing behind you with his arms wrapped around yours, guiding your hand in slow movements.

You caught on so quickly. He was so proud.

But despite all the lessons, Bucky wasn’t entirely convinced you’d ever actually use it.

“Baby, if anyone even looks at you the wrong way, I’d handle it,” he insisted one night, watching you twirl the knife in your fingers like a toy. “No one’s gonna touch you.”

You giggled, leaning up to kiss him. “Just in case, okay?”

Bucky nodded, nipping at your collarbone, “Okay.”

—

Sometimes, the world forgot Bucky Barnes had always been a dangerous man.

Sure, to the public, he was a polished congressman— the war hero turned politician, a man who fought for justice and all that. At the state galas, he smiled for the cameras, shook hands with donors, and played the role of the perfect politician. And with your radiant and sweet charm on his arm, everyone ate it up. You were the darling wife of Congressman Barnes, the woman who could make the room hold their breath.

But they didn’t realise how violently obsessed Bucky was with you.

He watched every interaction you had at those events. He eventually had a little notepad where he hastily scribbled the name of every man who looked at you too long,  an arrogant politician who thought they could pry you away from him. They thought you were too innocent to be with the former winter soldier— They thought they could whisper something suggestive in your ear or brush their hand along your back without consequence.

But Bucky always noticed.

He’d smile, even laugh sometimes, as if the petty attempts didn’t bother him. But they did. They fucking consumed him. His teeth would grind against each other, his grip on your waist would tighten, and his eyes would darken into a stormy blue— all while the poor bastard standing in front of him had no idea just how badly he’d fucked up.

Bucky had a routine. After the gala, he’d walk you out and hand you to his driver.

He would lean down, whispering softly into your ear.

“Head to the car, baby. I’ve got something to take care of.”

You never questioned it. You’d smile, kiss his cheek, and do as he asked.

And once you were gone, Bucky would… pay them a visit.

The man who let his hand wander a little too low on your back? The one who called you “darling” like he had any fucking right? 

Bucky found him in a secluded corner of the marbled building of Washington DC, his steel-blue eyes cold and calculating.

“You think you can touch what’s mine?” Bucky growled.

He had always been clever. He had always chosen a corner with no cameras. No witnesses. Then, he’d whisper a threat, one that left grown men trembling.

But sometimes threats weren’t enough.

One time, he got fed up with a senator’s son who had too much to drink. He’d cornered you by the bar, his hand grabbing your arm and waist, lips curling into a wicked smirk. 

You’d laughed politely, excused yourself, and found your way back to Bucky. But the damage had been done

Later that night, Bucky found him.

It wasn’t pretty.

The next morning, the senator’s son was seen with a cast on his wrist, stammering about a “bad fall.” 

No one questioned it, 

After all, accidents happen.

That sick, satisfied feeling always found its way to his chest. Though the real satisfaction always came when he hopped in the car. 

He’d find you taking off your heels, waiting for him in the back seat. You’d smile at him, oblivious to the violence he’d just left in his wake. And when you asked, “Did everything go okay?” Bucky would just smile, lean down, and kiss you.

Because Bucky Barnes was a kind person, a great friend, a wonderful husband, and an honest man. But after decades of isolation, torture, and conditioning, he would never truly be a good man again. But for you, he would pretend to be.

—

Still, like any other job, Bucky had bad weeks. And this week had been hell.

Bucky had come home late every night.

Between his work in Congress and the bills he was trying to push through, the DC police department had asked for his help in identifying some vigilante called Siren.

Now, he barely had time to breathe.

You hated seeing him like this. He was always so strong, so put-together, but lately, stress had carved itself into his shoulders, a permanent tightness in his back muscles.

It didn’t help that Senator Mitchell was being a prick, as usual. The man thrived on opposing Bucky’s every move, shooting down every proposal like it was his life’s mission to make your husband miserable.

And then there was Congressman Davis. From what you’ve heard, he was an arrogant, insufferable bastard who had spent the last few weeks blocking one of Bucky’s most important bills.

So when Bucky had muttered “God, I fucking hate that guy” over breakfast one morning, you’d simply nodded.

The next day, Congressman Davis didn’t show up to work.

Broke both legs in a freak accident, according to the news.

Bucky had stared at the article. “That’s… weird.”

“You think?” you tilted your head.

Bucky dragged a hand down his face. “Honestly, I don’t have time to care. Mitchell is still a pain in my ass, and now the DC police want me to help them identify some masked vigilante tearing through the city.”

That made your stomach flip, but you kept your eyes neutral as he tossed a thick file onto the table.

“Siren?” you asked, watching him flip through the grainy surveillance images. The black-clad figure was barely visible. The only clear detail was the glint of a knife in her hand.

Bucky snorted. “What kind of name is Siren, anyway?”

You shrugged. “I think it’s kinda sexy.”

Bucky shot you an amused look.

You shrugged, leaning on the counter. “What do they want from you?”

“They want me to analyse the footage, see if I recognise any combat techniques,” Bucky sighed, rubbing his temples. “As if I can ID someone from a couple of blurry images.”

You hummed in response, flipping through the file again. 

“Maybe she doesn’t wanna be found.” you offered.

“No shit.” Bucky frowned. 

—

That night, Bucky sat at his desk, eyes narrowed at the open file in front of him. His fingers tapped against the wood as he studied the images again. Something about her was… familiar. 

You watched from the doorway, wrapped in a silk robe.

He needs a distraction, you thought. 

You walked across the room, slipping behind him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pressed fluttering kisses to his neck.

Bucky sighed, leaning into your touch. “Baby…”

“You’re stressed,” you whispered, biting the lobe of his ear.

“I just— I can’t get a read on her,” he admitted, rolling his shoulders. “On top of that, I have to deal with Mitchell tomorrow.”

You glanced at the photo he was studying—Siren, breaking the arm of an arms dealer. Poetic justice.

You said nothing, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

Your fingers trailed lower, sliding down his chest, nails lightly scraping against his skin through his shirt. “I think you need a break.”

Bucky swallowed hard. “Baby, I—”

When you stepped back, his words died in his throat.

Because you had untied your robe.

And underneath, a lingerie set that he’d picked out for you weeks ago, the one that had him practically drooling when you tried it on.

The chair scraped back so fast it nearly toppled over.

Then, Bucky was lifting you onto the desk, his hands gripping your thighs, sliding up your sides, mapping out every inch of exposed skin as if he hadn’t memorised everything already. 

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, lips ghosting over your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re tryin’ to kill me, sweet girl.”

You giggled, threading your fingers through his hair. “I just thought my dear husband needed a break.” You batted your eyes innocently.

Bucky’s lips met yours in a bruising kiss. His hands kneaded your hips, pulling you flush against him, letting you feel exactly how much he wanted you.

“S’not fair,” he muttered against your lips, his lovely Brooklyn drawl slipping out. “I was workin’.”

“Oh?” You smiled innocently, nails raking down his back. “You wanna go back to your case?”

Bucky growled, lifting you effortlessly as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Fuck no.”

And with that, he carried you to your bedroom. 

Siren was forgotten, for now. 

—

That night, after you stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body, you casually said, “I think I’ll go for a walk.”

Bucky frowned immediately, towel-drying his damp hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “Alone?”

You’d done this before, but never this late. 

You rolled your eyes. “I can handle myself, honey.”

He crossed his arms, “That’s not the point.”

You sighed, stepping forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he let you go—reluctantly. At least you had your knife with you. 

—

By the time you got back, you were sweaty, chest rising and falling like you’d just finished a workout.

Bucky, who was sitting on the couch, immediately stood up and walked over to you. He looked at you, studying in the slight flush in your cheeks, the damp strands of hair sticking to your forehead.

He tilted his head. “You said you were going for a walk.”

You wiped at your brow. “Yeah, well… guess I went for a jog instead.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you jog?”

You shrugged. “Felt like I had some energy to burn.”

His eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, trying to assess the situation, but then you stood on your toes and kissed him.

Suddenly, he wasn’t questioning anything anymore.

—

The next day in Capitol Hill, Senator Mitchell had a black eye.

A nasty one, too. It was swollen and bruised, red against his pale skin.

Mitchell barely spoke all session, and when Bucky had the floor, the senator didn’t interrupt.

He didn’t sneer. Didn’t open his mouth to object.

He just sat there, shifting uncomfortably, trying his hardest not to look at Bucky.

Weird.

—

Before heading home, Bucky had one last piece of business to handle.

An overconfident diplomat from last week’s charity gala had overstayed his welcome in the city, unlucky for him. 

He had touched your arm without permission, his fingers lingering just a little too long on your skin. Bucky had been across the room that night, but even distance couldn’t dull his rage. 

By the end of the night, the bastard had vanished into the crowd.

That had been frustrating. But patience was something Bucky had in abundance when it came to protecting what was his.

So when he overheard a passing remark today that the diplomat was still in town, he found out where he was staying and simply went to the hotel lobby.

Bucky sat comfortably in a leather armchair, looking like just another guest winding down from a long day. He even smiled when his target stepped through the elevator doors.

Bucky stood and intercepted the man, placing himself just close enough that escape wouldn’t be an option. “Nice to see you again,” Bucky greeted, his voice almost pleasant. The diplomat barely had time to register the danger before Bucky leaned in, that same eerie smile still in place.

“If you so much as look at my wife again, I’ll break your fucking nose so badly, they’ll have to rebuild it from the inside out. And even then, it’ll never sit fucking right ever again.” Bucky said, though his tone was conversational. To anyone else, it would look as if he was commenting on the weather. “And that’ll be the least of your problems.”

The man swallowed hard, his overconfidence crumbling.

Satisfied, Bucky patted his shoulder once, before walking away. On the drive home, he pulled a pen from the glove compartment and calmly crossed the man's name off his list.

When he finally stepped through the door, he smiled to see you finishing up dinner. Bucky told you he could just hire a personal chef, but you insisted that you wanted to make his meals, to be his perfect housewife. 

Without a word, he tugged you into his lap, burying his face against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, “You know you’re mine, right, baby?” he said, his hands tightening around you. “Only mine.”

—

The next morning, you found him in the kitchen, reading over yet another Siren case file.

You pouted, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his back. “Buckyyy.”

He chuckled, placing his hand over yours. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I lost my knife,” you mumbled.

Bucky paused. “Lost it?”

No. No, you wouldn’t be so careless. 

Did someone take it from you? Did someone touch you?

The mere thought sent Bucky into a violent spiral, his fingers itched for blood.

Because if someone had taken it from you—if someone had dared to lay their filthy hands on what was his—they were going to wish they were never alive.

You nodded against his skin. “I think I dropped it during my morning run.”

He turned, relieved that you were just a bit careless. He lifted your chin with two fingers, thumb brushing your bottom lip as you gave him your best adorable pout. 

“My sweet girl,” he said. “You gotta be more careful.”

You blinked up at him, a little upset. “I liked that knife.”

He chuckled before letting out a deep breath. He could never be mad at you. So he just exhaled, brushing his lips against your forehead. “I’ll get you another one, baby. Whatever you want.”

You beamed. “Really?”

“Of course.” His fingers tightened slightly on your chin. “But you tell me next time you go for an early run. Don’t like you out there alone.”

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You worry too much.”

—

Within a week, Bucky gave you a new knife— a replacement for the one you lost. But calling it just a knife would be an insult.

It was stunning.

The handle was custom-made, dark metal inlaid with delicate floral, perfectly molded to fit your grip. The blade was wickedly sharp, and yet, it wasn’t just a weapon. It was art.

You turned it over in your hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. “You spoil me," you said, testing the weight in your palm. It was perfect.

Bucky smiled, satisfied. "Darling, I haven’t even started."

And just when you thought he couldn’t get any worse, he handed you something else— a little holster, custom-made to hold your new knife. The leather was buttery soft, made to fit against your thigh or tuck neatly under your jacket.

“Specially made for you,” he said proudly, brushing his lips over your cheek, then your jaw. “Gotta keep my good girl safe.”

Your stomach flipped.

What you didn’t know was that, because Bucky was a completely unhinged, lovesick lunatic, he had slipped a tiny tracking device into your holster—one discreet enough that you’d never notice. But that wasn’t all. The device also had a built-in listening function, so it was silently transmitting your location and every sound around you straight to a hidden app on his phone.

Not because he didn’t trust you.

But because the thought of you out there, alone without his protection— drove him insane.

So he made sure that, no matter where you went, he’d always be able to find you.

So now, if anyone so much as breathed wrong in your direction, Bucky would hear it. 

And he’d handle it.

—

The next morning, Bucky’s phone rang. It was an unlisted number from DC Police.

He sighed, already dreading whatever mess was waiting for him. But before he even thought about leaving, he had to take care of something far more important.

You.

Still hazy from sleep, you barely had time to blink before Bucky was on you, pressing you deeper into the mattress, his lips peppering gentle yet desperate kisses across every inch of exposed skin. Your cheek, your shoulders, the delicate curve of your throat.

"Just reminding you how much I love you before I go to work,” he nuzzled you.

You hummed, tilting your head to grant him better access. He took full advantage, dragging his mouth down your throat, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there. His teeth grazed your pulse point, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Be good, baby,” he whispered against your lips, still unwilling to leave. 

You smiled, all sweet innocence. “I’m always a good girl.”

Bucky groaned, pressing one last kiss to your lips before reluctantly pulling away.

For now.

—

The moment Bucky stepped into the precinct, conversations halted. Officers froze, whispering behind their hands.

Bucky’s eyes flickered around the room, landing on the open file waiting for him on the table.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Detective Ramirez, a no-nonsense woman who had been working in DC longer than most high schoolers have been alive, flipping through the folder. “We did a lot of digging last night… and Siren’s been operating a lot longer than we thought.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as she laid out the evidence.

“We traced activity back a couple years. Louisiana. Then Brooklyn. And now, D.C.” 

Huh. What a weird coincidence. Those are all the places you’ve lived in.

She shook her head. “She’s been at this for a long time.”

The grainy surveillance images showed the same shadowy figure— always disappearing before authorities could get close. But it was clear now. This wasn’t just some local vigilante.

“She started with street-level criminals—gangs, traffickers, arms dealers. But lately?” Ramirez slid a new set of photos across the table.

Congressman Davis. Senator Mitchell.

What?

“Both men had been attacked in the last three months. Different incidents. Different locations. But the same signature,” she explained, shaking her head. They’re terrified,” Ramirez continued. “Refused to talk, barely gave us any details because they’re convinced Siren will come back and… finish the job.”

Bucky stayed silent, his mind racing. 

Something wasn’t adding up.

“And then there’s this in the crime scene. We believe it’s hers.” Ramirez reached into an evidence bag, carefully unwrapping something small wrapped in cloth. She placed it on the table and slid it toward him.

Bucky’s stomach dropped.

A knife.

Not just any knife.

Your knife.

The one he had given you.

The one you had lost.

He reached for it, turning it over in his gloved hand. It was unmistakable in its design.

Bucky clenched his teeth, forcing his expression to remain neutral.

Because if he let anything slip—if they saw even the slightest reaction—he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain this.

—

Bucky came home late that night, his mind clouded and fearful.

The evidence was stacked against you, but he refused to believe it. You couldn't be Siren. No—maybe she had stolen your knife. Maybe someone was trying to frame you. Maybe—

Then he saw the note.

"Went for a run. Be back soon <3"

Bullshit.

His gut twisted with the kind of instinctual, primal warning that had kept him alive for decades. Maybe he thought the handwriting was too neat, or maybe just knew when you were lying to him. He always did.

Metal knuckle curling into a ball, he pulled out his phone and tapped into the hidden tracking signal embedded in your holster.

You were nowhere near a park, or a public road for that matter. Instead, you were in a wealthy neighbourhood on the other side of town.

Then he turned on the listening device.

A second later, your voice crackled through the speaker. You sounded eerily calm. “A little birdie told me you were planning to block the new Veteran Act."

Bucky’s breath hitched. He had told you about that bill he had been spearheading. About how Jones—that corrupt prick—was going to block it before it even had a chance.

And now you must be standing in front of him, threatening him.

He heard the unmistakable whisper of a blade slicing through the air.

Jones hesitated. “You’re insane—”

"Approve it,” he heard you sneer, “Or I’ll come back and finish the job."

Bucky’s heart slammed against his ribs. He was torn between wanting to go to you—to drag you away from this, to keep you safe—and just listening.

In hindsight, he should have known.

The "walks." The "runs." The way you had picked up knifework too quickly when he had first put a blade in your hands. The first night he kissed you, he had found you on your fire escape—because you had been doing vigilante shit after the pool bar. 

And then you spoke again, this time in a sweet sing-song tone, “If you don’t, I’ll put your head underwater until the bubbles stop."

Jones went silent.

Bucky knew you had taken mixed martial arts as a kid for self-defense, but he had never thought much of it— never imagined you still practiced, still used it.

And then, “O-okay, okay—I will.”

Fuck.

He had to admit it now. You were Siren.

Sweet, innocent you. The woman who pressed sleepy kisses against his collarbone in the morning. The woman who curled up in his lap at night, blinking up at him with wide, trusting eyes.

But that wasn’t all you were.

You were this, too. You were a predator hiding in plain sight.

And instead of being freaked out—instead of feeling betrayed or angry—Bucky was… turned on.

His breaths were uneven, chest rising and falling with arousal.

Because he knew this wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t corrupting you.

You were always like this.

Maybe, you were just waiting for someone who would be just as sick as you are.

And you found him.

—

The second you slipped through the back door, you felt his eyes on you.

You had been careful. So fucking careful.

You had changed in the garden shed.  You wiped the sweat and dirt from your skin, slipping into an oversized hoodie, leggings, sneakers that were scuffed just enough to sell the illusion. By the time you stepped inside, you looked like nothing more than a tired, unsuspecting wife coming home from an innocent late-night run.

So you played your part.

You plastered a sleepy smile onto your face. “Hey, honey."

Bucky didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.

He just sat there, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped together.

What’s going on?

"How’s Senator Jones?" He said calmly, too calmly. 

Your stomach plummeted.

The room felt like it had shrunk, walls pressing in. Everything was suffocating.

You blinked at him, feigning confusion. “What?"

Bucky tilted his head, the ghost of an amused smile playing at his lips.

"I know you’re Siren."

Your breath stalled.

A million reasons went through your rolodex of excuses, each one weaker than the last. But when you looked at him, at the certainty in his eyes, you knew there was no use denying it.

He knew.

But two could play at that game.

So instead of panic, you kept yourself calm. 

“Oh?” You arched a brow, voice smooth as silk. "And how’s that diplomat from that gala? Heard you took care of him."

For the first time since you came back, Bucky faltered.

“Y-You knew?” He stammered.

You saw the moment it hit him, the way his pupils blew wide.

"Of course I knew, baby,” you said sweetly, stepping closer. You could see the tension in his shoulders, "I know about your list, Bucky. I see your murderous rage every time."

Bucky’s muscles tightened. His breath became shallow, heart thrumming against his ribs.

You sighed, walking past him to a compartment under the island kitchen, pulling out a small, battered notebook. You flipped it open, then placed it in his hands.

Bucky’s fingers tightened around it as he scanned the pages.

What was this?

It was his list—mirrored.

The same names. The same faces. The same fucking targets. So you could keep track of who he was after. 

But alongside them, you had your own notes. Your observations.

Log entries tracking him— where he had been sighted, what areas he had stalked, what time he usually came home. Notes on when he was distracted. When he was asleep. When you could slip out and do your little crime fighting routine. You had copies of all the numbers in his contacts— classified or otherwise.

You even had pictures of him from the goddamn Capitol Hill security cameras. From his usual coffee shops. From his favourite supermarket.

His hands started shaking, because between the scribbled words, between the ink and the scratched-out sentences, there’s something familiar.

Not just in the thoughts.

But in the way they’re written. They were scrawled in a rush, like they were obsessive.

And then, just beneath one of the messier lines, there’s a word—so small, so easy to miss. ‘Mine.’

Sweet, darling, unassuming you, had a dark side.

You were just like him.

A perfect reflection. A mirror image of his own madness.

His throat felt dry. "You—" He swallowed. "You kept track of me?"

You tilted your head innocently. "Oh, sweetheart."

But if you thought that was something—

Bucky moved, crossing the room and yanked open the bottom drawer of the TV stand. His movements were almost aggressive as he pulled out a thick, leather-bound book.

Not his little notebook. 

This was different.

And then he handed it to you.

The second you flipped it open, your heart stopped.

It wasn’t names.

It wasn’t targets.

It was you.

Pages upon pages, filled with cramped, meticulous handwriting.

Your detailed wardrobe, all of your perfumes, observations of what you smelled like after a shower versus after a long day. An analysis of how your voice changed when you were lying. The exact shade your lips turned when you were cold. Your coffee orders in all the cafes you’ve ever been to, your favourite snacks. There was even a paragraph of the way you twirled your fork when you ate pasta. The names and addresses of all of your exes— where they lived, where they work, where they shop.

Your entire existence, laid bare.

A record. A worship. A fucking obsession.

Then, you both realised. 

You were just two absolute fucking lunatics, hopelessly, unhealthily obsessed with each other.

The two of you had been circling each other like predators for years— watching, tracking, leaving breadcrumbs of obsession in each other’s worlds without even realising it.

You weren’t just people to each other.

You were religion.

You were scripture.

Two minds running parallel, equally deranged, equally consumed— until you inevitably collided. 

You licked your lips slowly, the corner of your mouth curling as you looked up at him through your lashes. You knew what you were doing— of course you did.

With a voice as saccharine as it was wicked, you whispered, "I’m still your good girl."

Bucky fucking shattered.

A wrecked groan tore from his throat. His grip felt like iron chains as he gripped your waist, shoving you against the nearest surface— the kitchen counters. But you barely noticed, too focused on the way his hands clawed at you, like even after all these years, he still needed to mark you, ruin you.

His lips were on you in an instant, first on your lips, then trailing down your throat.

And then he dropped to his knees.

A fucking worshipper at your altar.

A zealot ready to die a martyr.

His hands gripped your thighs, firm enough to bruise, and he tilted his head up to look at you, pupils blown wide, his lips slightly parted.

He was completely undone. Completely yours.

A satisfied smile spread across your face as you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him whimper.

"But you’re also my good boy,” you teased, “aren’t you?"

His groan was ruinous.

His eyes were wild, desperate, and fucking feral.

"Yeah, baby," he nodded, voice wrecked, hands trailing up, gripping the curve of your hips. "Yours. All yours.”

And then—

He showed you.

Because Bucky Barnes will never be a good man again.

But for you?

He’d be anything.

-end.

General Bucky taglist:

@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant

 @shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault@average-vibe

@winchestert101 @mystictf @globetrotter28 @shanksstrawhat @scariusaquarius

@reckless007 @hextech-bros @daydreamgoddess14 @96jnie @pono-pura-vida

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@hiphip-horray @jbbucketlist @melotyy @ethereal-witch24 @samfunko

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@shower-me-with-roses @athenabarnes @scarwidow @thriving-n-jiving @dilfsaresohot

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@samfunko @wh1sp @anonymousreader4d7 @mathcat345 @escapefromrealitylol

@imjusthere1161 @sleepysongbirdsings

My Desire

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader(Ex-HYDRA)

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!, Mentions of Past Violence/Blood, Mentions of Stabbing (the reader has a scar from an incident involving Bucky/The Winter Soldier), Swearing, PTSD, Bucky kind of goes through some guilt in this, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship Trope, BDSM Club Mission, Unintended Voyeurism, Mentions/References to Exhibitionism, Smut; fingering, oral sex (fem! Receiving), spitting, some nipple play, handjob, a bit of a praise kink if you squint, a little bit of a pain kink if you squint, P in V sex (unprotected, you know the drill though…Wrap it before going heels to Jesus), Shower Sex . Beefy Bucky is the current squeeeeeeeze if y’all know what I mean.

Author's Note: Wheew, I decided to take the trope of Enemies to Lovers and Fake Relationships to the next level. Ah, I love tropes, especially when you can throw everything and the kitchen sink at it. I did change some contextual stuff up a little bit just to suit the needs of the story. Hope y’all enjoy :) Sorry it took so long to get a new piece out btw, I’ve been studying for a licensing thing and that’s been literally consuming my time!

Word Count: 23,866

Next Part: Girls Like You

The air in the debriefing room was thick and suffocating when you walked in that morning. The night before you had received an urgent call from Maria Hill asking if you could attend a meeting for the next day, you were caught off guard by the request, but you were also curious as to what she was going to assign you, so you had taken the opportunity and agreed.

Maria stood at the front of the room, face flat, unreadable. You could sense there was someone else in the room, noticing one of the chairs was turned away from you, but out of the corner of your eye you could see the slight shine of the all-too-familiar metal arm, only now it was black, shiny, a new model. Your stomach dropped almost in an instant, a deep-seated regret immediately hitting you in the face. The chair turned, and you were met with the cold, desolate blue eyes, and scowl that you had seen on CCTV and up close. He was the shell of someone you once thought you knew.

Bucky Barnes.

He leaned back in his seat with his broad arms crossed over his chest, looking almost as irritated as you. He looked like he had gained a lot more muscle since the last time you saw him, and it was evident just by the way his biceps strained against the fabric of his t-shirt, and how he shifted uncomfortably in the chair he was in, his thighs spreading slightly to try and find a position he felt good in. He had trimmed his hair, it was not instantly noticeable, but when you replayed your last interaction in your head daily, it was easy to recognize the changes he physically made to himself.

“Just the person I wanted to see at 8 am.” He muttered, the words edging with sarcasm, casting a pointed look at Maria. You let out a slow, exaggerated exhale.

”Can’t believe you’re still fucking breathing.” You commented, watching him glance over his shoulder, tilting his head.

”Disappointed?” He asked mockingly.

”Absolutely devastated.” Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

”Yeah, guess we can’t all get what we want.” Your fingers twitched at your sides.

”Oh, I don’t know,” You mused, “Last time I checked, you got exactly what you wanted. A knife through my fucking chest, if I’m remembering correctly of course.” He groaned.

”Can’t believe you’re still going on about that. It’s been two years, sweetheart. Get over it.” You could feel your blood curdling beneath your skin, as you balled your hands into tight fists.

”Get over it? I was hospitalized for almost seven months.” He spun around on his chair to face you, one eyebrow raised.

”And? You’re still here are you not? You scoffed at him.

“Yeah, walking proof that you failed your fucking mission.” `He rolled his eyes.

”Not like I didn’t try to finish the job, remember?” Your jaw clenched at his comment, a phantom pain itching in the middle of your chest, radiating down to the center of your sternum, the exact spot his knife had pierced through, where he had twisted.

“Oh, I remember. Evidently, you do too. You must get off to it.” You spat back, watching as Bucky’s smirk vanished from his face. You could’ve sworn you heard the metal of his hand squeaking when he balled it up in a fist. You should’ve stopped there, but you couldn’t let this one go.

”You must really love replaying it,” You sneered, “The way I was pinned under you, screaming at you to let me go, the begging, and the way you took such fucking pleasure in driving that knife in slow-.” Bucky moved so fast you barely saw it coming. He was in your space in a split second, towering over you, his eyes burning holes through yours.

”You going to keep talking?” His voice was low and threatening, his eyes studying you, looking at the way you didn’t back down and recoil. He could see the fire in your eyes, the rage shaking behind them.

“Oh? Did I hit a nerve?” You said, feigning shock, poking the bear even more, watching his jaw clench.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” He growled, stepping closer, his hot breath now fanning over your face, once again you didn’t move back.

“You may have everyone else fooled with your ‘I was brainwashed by HYDRA, I had no control’ schtick, but you and I both know that’s just bullshit.” Bucky’s metal hand immediately launched out at you, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt, yet you remained still, your breath hitching in your throat. Maria jumped into action quickly, making her way over to the scene.

“HEY!” She yelled, putting herself between the both of you, one hand pressing against Bucky’s chest, while the other pushed against your shoulder, attempting to separate the impending fight before it started. Neither of you broke eye contact, as Maria continued to try to make additional space, “Let go of her Bucky.” She commanded, he didn’t flinch, his grip only tightened more, his ice-cold gaze staring at you.

“You want to start something?” Maria added, “Because I promise you, you will not like how it fucking ends. Now let. Go.” She demanded through clenched teeth. There is a beat of silence that comes up between the three of you, as he slowly unclenches his hand, releasing your shirt from his grasp. You shake yourself out a bit, adjusting your top which had now been stretched from how hard he pulled you, the neckline now hanging loosely on your chest. Maria spun around on her heel, looking at you.

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” She snapped.

“You’re the one that brought him here, what did you expect me to do? Give him a warm welcome?” She let out a frustrated sigh.

“No. I expect you to act like a professional.” She replied, taking a step closer, “But instead you’re playing chicken with someone who can snap your neck like a twig if he wanted to.” You felt your jaw clench at her words, seething at the tone she was taking.

“And what about him?! He’s the one that got physical first.” She shook her head.

“Yeah because you baited him for a reaction.” She shot back, “We have invested a lot of time and effort undoing what HYDRA did to him. But you can’t be surprised when he has a very human reaction when reminded of the things he’s done in the past.” You could practically feel your blood boiling at this point, hearing the condescending tone she was taking.

“Sure. Let’s just keep making excuses for poor little Bucky who’s trying to figure out how to be a person again.” He stiffened at your words, it wasn’t obvious, but you could see the slight shift.

“Well. At least HYDRA made me useful for something. What’s your excuse?” The second the words left his mouth you saw red.

“Okay. That’s enough!” Maria yelled before you could say anything back, before you could retaliate. Bucky watched you carefully, knowing he won that round. Maria dragged a hand down her face, already exhausted from this encounter, realizing it was only going to get worse once she gave a debrief on the mission she needed to assign them.

“Can we all just please…Sit the fuck down now so we can get on with this meeting?” She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. You squinted at Bucky, seeing a smirk come up on his face, as he turned around and returned to his seat, the chair creaking under his weight. You huffed, biting into your cheek while you walked to the other side of the conference table, taking a seat opposite of him, avoiding his eyes which were now watching you.

“Alright…” Maria sighed, grabbing two manilla folders from the front cart near the television, sliding one toward you, and the other toward Bucky. You flipped open the file without hesitation, scanning the contents inside, glancing across from you to see that Bucky mirrored your actions, though you could sense he was not paying attention fully.

Timothy Orkolov was the target's name, aged 48, nationality Russian, known aliases; ‘Red Fang’. A high-resolution CCTV image of him was stapled to the corner of the first page. He was midstride, dressed in a long, navy blue, double-breasted overcoat, and black dress pants, with sunglasses pushed against his face, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His salt and pepper beard was trimmed with precision, and his dark brown hair was slicked back and shiny. He looked like a businessman, that was for sure.

"Orkolov has been on our radar for over two years," Maria began, tapping her fingers against the table, her gaze flickering from you to Bucky, "He isn’t just an arms dealer, he’s a facilitator. A broker of power. He’s connected to corrupt officials, private militias, and underground trade networks spanning across Europe. He doesn’t just sell weapons, he sells wars." You glance up at Bucky, watching his jaw tighten slightly at Maria's brief description.

“Great…So he’s a criminal. Why haven’t you guys sent out agents from your team, why do you need us?” You ask, pushing the file away and sitting back in your chair.

“Because we have already sent in our regular agents. Three times actually. They all ended up dead. Does that answer your question?” You glance over at Bucky, who is still flipping through the file, ignoring the conversation.

“So instead of sending one of your own, you decided it was a good idea to throw us at the problem instead? What are we? Expendables?”You questioned, Maria tapped her fingers against the table, feeling an argument beginning.

“No. You’re necessary. We were able to get both of you on his guest list at his club ‘The Velvet Fang’. That’s one step further than the other times we’ve attempted to get someone in.” There is a hint of familiarity that flashes in Bucky’s eyes, as he pushes the file away as well, you can see behind his stoic expression that the cogs in his head are turning.

“Did you use our real names?” He asked, his voice stern, almost like he knew the answer already.

“Yes…Yes, we gave them your real names.” Maria responded quietly, knowing that she had made a mistake. Bucky scoffs.

“No wonder we got on the list…” He ran his hand over his face, glancing over at you, seeing the confusion in your eyes.

“We needed to establish credibility,” Maria said, her voice choking up, a little on edge, not knowing what Bucky was going to do next.

“You needed credibility,” He repeated, the sharp tone of rage boiling beneath his words, “So you decided to hand our names to him on a silver platter? How could you think that was a good idea?” He questioned.

“We had no other ch-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Maria!” He snapped, turning his anger towards you now, “And how could you not be freaking out about this?!” You looked at him now, shrugging.

“Hey, it’s not a life-or-death situation for me. Unlike you, my name isn’t attached to war crimes, assassinations, and a century-long kill list.” He breathed in slowly, trying to compose himself, attempting to lower his anger.

“Just because you couldn’t stomach your orders and defected from HYDRA doesn’t mean anything. How do you think I tracked you down?” He shot back.

“That has no connection to this. Orkolov wouldn’t want anything to do with me because I’m not a fucking animal, an ex-HYDRA member with no hits is not a hot commodity for people like him.” Bucky sat back, his hands rubbing along his pants.

“Being a passive participant doesn’t stop an arms dealer from using you. It’ll be very easy to get you back into your old programming.” Maria looked over at you, watching as you dug your nails into your palm, your jaw clenching at his words.

“There is no old programming to go back to,” You bit out, “I never completed their training and I didn’t get the chair to try to erase who I was either, so you can stop fucking speaking.” You snapped.

“Okay guys, please…Before I start bleeding out of my ears, can we just get this meeting done?” Maria begged, with exhaustion lacing her voice, digging her fingers into her temples, massaging them slowly, “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” You leaned on the table, letting out a humourless laugh.

“How much worse could it possibly get? Please. Enlighten us.” Bucky looked over at you out of the corner of his eye, then brought his gaze back to Maria’s, watching her shift nervously.

“You guys are going as a couple.” Silence. Dead, thick, suffocating silence. That’s all that hung in the room for the next couple of minutes. “It’s all in the file.” She added, looking down at her hands. The both of you immediately pulled your folders back to each other and flipped to the very last page, seeing the complete narrative that was devised for the both of you. Former HYDRA operatives. Defected together. Fell off the radar together. And now, resurfacing together.

“So that’s why you couldn’t send me with anyone else but him? You’re using our past as your little fucking token?” You questioned.

“I used it as an in. Orkolov doesn’t deal with outsiders. He doesn’t trust new faces. But a couple; one with a history, one with shared scars, one that understands the same darkness he does—that’s a story he’ll believe.” Bucky let out a sharp breath, the kind that sounded like he was seconds away from either punching a hole through the table or walking out of the room entirely. His jaw was tight, his fingers curling into a fist on his knee before he got up to start pacing.

“Your timelines together added up just right for this plan to even work, we couldn’t risk missing the opportunity.” She continued, as Bucky let out a laugh, shaking his head while he paced back and forth with his hands on his hips and his eyes locked onto the floor.

“Our timelines added up?” You repeated, incredulously, pushing the open file away from you once again, “You mean the years I spent trying to escape HYDRA? The fucking manhunt that followed me? The fact that he spent months trying to track me down and brought me to the edge of my fucking life?” You pointed at Bucky, who stopped pacing at the mention of the past, his body coiled tight, “That was just a nice little convenience for your little story huh?” Maria exhaled slowly.

”I know this is a lot-.”

“No,” Bucky cut her off, “A lot is being sent into a hostile situation. A lot is having our real names handed over to a man who probably wants us to reinstate our old HYDRA roles again.” He motioned between you and himself, his glare was all-encompassing, fury-filled, “But this? This is fucking insanity.” Maria nodded.

“I understand it is, and I’m sorry I didn’t run it by the both of you, but we are in a tight time crunch that you don’t seem to be seeing. A war is brewing, and we need intel to save lives, Bucky. You of all people should know what war does to someone.” The words came out of her without time to process what she was just about to say. You could see Bucky’s body go rigid, his breathing slowing down as if he were trying to calm himself. Maria had just thrown gasoline onto a blazing fire, and she knew it right away. You looked over at her, hoping, and waiting for her to backpedal, to apologize, but she held firm, staring at Bucky.

“You don’t get to use that against me.” Maria held his gaze.

“I won’t do it again…I just needed you to understand the direness of the situation.” He reached for the chair he had been sitting in, gripping the top of it, glancing over at you, trying to gauge what you were thinking, but at this point, you were unreadable, you were spaced out, looking at the table. You already realized there was no choice, and Maria wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

---—————-

“So let me get this straight. You and Bucky, the guy who literally almost gutted you like a fish, are going to fly to Vienna, so that you can attend a party and meet a guy who will probably end up either killing the both of you or recruiting you into his little ring of friends?” Natasha asked, her voice edging with something between amusement and disbelief. She lay sprawled out across your bed, watching you rummage through your closet, throwing shirts, jackets, and pants onto the ground as you attempted to find something that would make you blend into The Velvet Fang.

“That about sums it up.” You muttered, tossing another article of clothing to the side. Natasha let out a low whistle, flipping onto her stomach so she could rest her chin on her palm, a smirk plastered on her face. You looked over your shoulder, seeing her ice-blue eyes studying you.

“So…When’s the wedding?” She asked jokingly, trying to lighten the conversation. You rolled your eyes, stepping over the pile of clothes that surrounded you, and throwing yourself down on the bed with a loud thump.

“Please I am in no mood for your jokes.” You groaned, opening your eyes to stare up at the ceiling, your hands lying flat on your stomach. Natasha hummed.

“No jokes? Damn…This must really be killing you.” You shook your head.

“If it was anyone else I would be completely fine with it, but I can see he’s still unstable. You saw me when I defected from HYDRA, I was an absolute mess, it took me months to undo what they did, and I was only there for a year tops. Bucky had been their fucking plaything for decades, there’s no possible way he’s somehow reformed and completely fine.” You explained.

“So you’re scared he’s gonna snap and try and kill you again?” She asked softly, letting the question linger in the air, watching the way you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress.

“I’m not scared of him.” She arched her brow.

“Let’s not try to deflect the real question I just asked you Y/N.” You broke eye contact with her, not wanting to stare at her observant gaze. She knew you too well. She already had her answers. She just wanted to hear it from you.

“It’s not about him trying to kill me, Nat. We are coming face to face with someone who knows about our past with HYDRA. Who knows how long he has had to try and plan something against us. He knows we’re coming, we are on his list. What happens if Orkolov pushes the wrong buttons, and Bucky just loses it? Who do you think he’ll take out first? Hmm?” You asked, feeling the mattress shift, noticing Natasha getting up and walking over to the pile of clothes, shuffling through it to see if she could find something for you herself.

“If he wanted to, if he still had it in him…He would’ve done it when he saw you this morning. Even after you pushed his buttons he didn’t try to put in the kill shot. If it was Winter Soldier Bucky…You would’ve been a bloodstain on that conference room floor.” Natasha’s words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. You swallowed hard, shifting on the bed, your fingers idly tracing the seam of your sleeve. You wanted to argue, to push back against her calm logic, but you couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew she was right. You sat up on your elbows, looking over at her pulling out a short black dress from the pile that you had overlooked, holding it up to herself for a brief moment before tossing it at you.

“This’ll work.” You eyed it skeptically.

“That thing barely has enough fabric to cover my ass…” She smirked.

“I’m pretty sure people at The Velvet Fang will appreciate it.” You ran your hand over the silky material, a defeated sigh escaping your throat.

“I can’t believe I’m putting myself out on display like this.” You muttered, lying down on the mattress again, a wave of nausea pouring up your stomach.

“You’re not. You’re just going to be a little bit of eye candy. Nobody is going to be hitting on you, especially if you’re with Bucky.” She pointed out. Her words were meant to be reassuring but they only made your stomach churn even more.

“Great…So now instead of kicking him out a window, I need to hide behind him to ignore any advances.” Natasha laughed, crossing her arms as she leaned against your dresser.

“I wish I could be there to see you play the doting little girlfriend, all wrapped up in her dangerous bad boy boyfriend. You’re gonna have to play nice.” You closed your eyes tightly.

“I’m going to throw myself out of the fucking plane while we’re in the air…That’s the only way I could get out of this.”

“C’mon. Now you’re just being dramatic. You should be taking this as an opportunity to let loose a little bit.” You groaned.

“If letting loose is code for committing manslaughter, I will happily let loose.” Natasha sighed.

“No manslaughter. Just try and have fun. You need to be convincing, if you’re looking miserable with someone who you’re supposed to love, Orkolov will immediately know. You’ll have to practice at least a bit so you two can loosen up and look natural.”

--—————————

Natasha’s words were running through your head the entire time you sat across from Bucky in the jet. The cabin was quiet, apart from the low hum of the engines and the occasional crackle of the intercom. You sat stiffly in your seat, looking at the glass of water on the table in front of you, watching the way it vibrated gently. You could hear him picking at the stitches of the leather seat, trying to distract himself, not wanting to say anything to you, but you could feel his presence, like an itch beneath your skin.

Without Maria, the both of you made an unspoken agreement to avoid having a conversation altogether. But now, halfway into the flight, the silence was starting to wear on you. You had avoided his eyes for the entire time, but when you leaned forward to reach for the glass you had been staring at you could hear the noise of his picking halt and his breath hitch. You looked up at him, seeing the way his jaw was clenched, and how he wasn’t staring at your face, but lower.

“What? What did I-” You looked down at yourself and paused, realizing that in the moment you had moved forward you loose zip up sweater did as well, exposing the top of his handy work. The top part was jagged, where he had twisted and applied pressure, almost like he wanted to break your chest open. You swallowed loudly, remembering the taste of blood that flooded your mouth in those moments before quickly straightening the fabric, bringing the zipper up all the way to your neck. The silence between the both of you stretched with fragility, you were expecting him to look away, but he couldn’t. He cleared his throat, and when he finally spoke he was quieter, his tone almost hollow.

”I didn’t…I didn’t realize it looked like that.” His words were uneven, shaky, and it made you pause. He wasn’t just shocked, he was horrified. You could see the way his fingers twitched, the way they dug into the fabric of his pants like he was trying to ground himself. It felt like someone had split his ribcage open and had begun to squeeze his lungs, wringing out all the air.

”Well…I don’t really go out showing it off to people.” You muttered, bringing your feet up to rest on the seat, so your knees were against your chest.

“I don’t remember…” He exhaled sharply, dragging his dark metal fingers through his hair, shaking his head, “I can’t remember doing it…” You hugged your knees closer to your chest, the weight of his words settling between you like a stone at the bottom of a lake. Bucky shook his head again as if he was trying to jog his memory so that he could rearrange the gaps.

”I remember tracking you.” You looked up at him, noticing the hint of frustration that glimmered in the dim lighting of the cabin. “I remember the order. I remember the fight, the way you used everything in your power to get me. You were…Trying to reach for your gun or a pager…Something, I don’t know.” You could feel your throat tighten, as you leaned forward to grab the glass of water, trying to wash down the lump that was forming, “Then I slammed you on the floor…But the moment it happened…It’s blank like someone ripped it out of my head. It’s a black hole.” You traced the rim of the glass. You didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he had done it or the fact that they wiped it from his memory.

“Lucky you I guess.” You whispered under your breath, taking another swig of water, feeling it cool your chest. His eyes narrowed.

”Can’t believe you would say something like that.” His voice was quiet.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You replied, settling the glass down on the table with a little more force than necessary, “You don’t carry it the way I have to.”

“I may not remember what I did to you, but do you really think I don’t wake up every fucking day knowing that there are pieces of me…Of the things that I’ve done…That I can’t even remember or be sorry for? I’d rather remember all of it than have these fucking gaps, where I have no idea who I was, what I did, or who I hurt.” His words sat on your chest. There was a part of you that wanted to lash out at him, to shove all the pain back at him with full force, to remind him that no matter how much he suffered you would never forgive him for what he did, that was just the honest truth. But then there was something under the surface, the haunting look in his eyes, the way he seemed like he wanted to crawl into himself and die…It tugged at the person you once were. That person would’ve seen the man in front of them for what he was now, not for what he had been then, but she was buried beneath the layers of anger, beneath everything HYDRA had done to you both. You ran a hand down your face.

”Look…Bucky.” He lifted his head slightly at you, brows knitting together, “I don’t know what you want me to say. That it’s fine? That I don’t think about it? I can’t lie to you about that.” He swallowed hard, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, his hands clasping together.

”All I want is for you to know…That I’d take it back if I could, and that…I’m sorry.” The sincerity in his voice unsettled you. It was easier when he was cold, when he was just the Winter Soldier and not the man left in the aftermath. You wanted to hold onto your anger, to clutch it tight like it was your armour, but it was slipping through your fingers like sand. You exhaled slowly, staring down at your hands.

”I know…”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” He said, voice low, “I don’t even know if I’d want you to.” You looked at him, the both of you holding each other’s eyes.

”I don’t know if I can…But I know you mean it.” Bucky held your gaze for a moment longer, like he was searching for something in your face, something you weren’t sure you could give him. Then he nodded, a small, barely-there movement, and looked down at the table between you. You sighed, shifting in your seat.

”We still need to come up with a story that we are going to tell Orkolov if he asks us about our past.” Bucky rubbed the sweat off his palm.

”Yeah…Forgot about that.” He sat back in his seat, tilting his head against the headrest, eyes flicking toward the light above the both of you, “So, where do we start?” You shoved your hands into your sweater pocket.

”We can’t make it too perfect. If it’s too clean, he will know we rehearsed it, and that we’re lying.” He nodded, rolling his shoulders.

”Alright. So, we need just enough truth to give it that believability.” You nodded. He drummed his fingers against his knee.

”We start with HYDRA. Orkolov knows that we both left the place. I don’t know if he knows how much involvement you had in the place but we can keep it vague.”

”We can say I was assigned to intelligence. Data collection, infiltration? Something that didn’t leave much of a paper trail.” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “That’ll also explain why my name doesn’t come up as often as yours, and I won’t have to explain why I really left.” Bucky hummed in agreement, rubbing his jaw as he thought it over.

”That works. They trained you but it was separate from the rest of us. They won’t suspect anything.” You gulped, pushing away the memories before they had a chance to settle into you.

”So how did we end up meeting then?” You questioned.

”When you defected, they sent me after you.” He responded simply, “It’ll explain the scar, and the reason why you’re not dead.” You shifted in your seat.

”Right…Because you hesitated.” A lie, but it was believable. Bucky nodded once.

”Something about you made me stop. I didn’t understand why, and I let you go.” You inhaled deeply.

”And HYDRA dragged you back in and wiped you again, tried to erase whatever it was that made you hesitate to finish the job.” He looked at you.

”But it didn’t stick, and then I found you again.” You swallowed, slowly nodding, glancing down at your hands as you traced the storyline in your mind, fitting the pieces together intricately, patching up whatever holes would be in the story.

”How?” Bucky shrugged.

”I don’t know, maybe I just started remembering things I wasn’t supposed to. Then I knew I needed to find you.” You took a steady breath.

”So you found me…And we made a pact to stick together, then somewhere along the way we got close. We had no one else, relied on each other, and just…Fell into it.” This was all just a cover, a fabrication designed to protect you both. But as you studied Bucky’s face, the way his fingers twitched slightly on the table, the way his throat bobbed with an unspoken thought, you realized just how convincing it sounded, even to yourselves. He cleared his throat, letting out a small cough.

”Yeah, I think that story is easy to sell.” You ran through it together once again, ironing out the little details, and making sure there were no weaknesses. Once you were finished there was only an hour left before you landed in Vienna, and thankfully things had cooled down a bit.

”Alright. So we stick to that story, no hesitations, no second guessing.” He nodded, his fingers tapping against the table.

”And what about the physical stuff?” He asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You looked at him, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against the table like he was trying to find a rhythm to keep himself grounded. He didn’t like the idea any more than you did, but you both knew it was necessary.

”It has to look and be natural.” You responded, “If we’re stiff or uncomfortable Orkolov will immediately see it. We don’t have to overdo it, but we can’t act like we are business partners either.” You added, taking another sip of your water.

”So, what’s the expectation here? Hand on your back? Arm around your waist? Holding hands? K-Kissing?” He stuttered on the last word, covering it up with a forced cough, his eyes flicking away from you. You could feel the nausea building in your stomach again, as you gulped down the rest of the water, trying to buy yourself time to cool yourself down.

“Touching needs to look natural, with no flinching or discomfort. We can’t force it. We take the opportunities when it feels like the right time.” You paused momentarily, “And kissing will happen only if necessary.” You clarified.

“Right,” He muttered, “Only if necessary.” You shifted again, absentmindedly scratching at the scar on your chest.

”If we don’t think about it so much, we will be fine.” Bucky nodded, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shifting in his seat before looking at you again.

“Maybe we should practice.” He suggested, his voice low. Your eyebrows raised at him, and he realized what he had said, “Not…not everything, obviously, it’s just to get used to it. If we go in cold, it’ll be obvious we don’t know how to act around each other.” You hated that he had a point, it would be obvious if the both of you were looking like you were being held at gunpoint by one another every time you touched, practice was a necessary evil unfortunately.

“Alright. What do you want to start with?” Bucky hesitated.

”Hand holding would be good I guess.” He exhaled, wiping his sweaty palm on his pants before bringing his right hand onto the table, facing it palm up. You shook your head.

”What?” He asked, looking at his hand, then back at you.

“I want the metal one.” He looked down at it.

“It’s vibranium.” He corrected quietly. You rolled your eyes.

”Okay. I want the vibranium one. Better?” He sighed, lifting his left hand up and placing it on the table between you. The dark material shined beneath the light, the small slivers of gold contrasting against the harsh black that lined the entire appendage. You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his. You expected the cool metal against your skin but got something different.

”Do you have a heater in this thing or something? Why is it so warm?” You asked, earning a small laugh from him, your thumb running over the palm of his hand, watching the slivers of gold pulsing when he moved his fingers slightly.

”I had it under my thigh when we were going over our little cover-up story.” He admitted. You raised a brow at him, your lips twitching upward.

”So what? You were preheating it for me?” He shook his head.

”Didn’t expect you to ask for the vibranium hand, so I guess it was just luck.” You hummed at his comment, trailing your fingers up his forearm, feeling the smooth, almost seamless transition between the plates. It was strange how human it felt, despite what it was.

“Can I ask what happened to the other one?” You could feel his fingertips twitch against your skin at the question, and for a moment he didn’t say anything, then he looked up at you.

“Stark blew it off…Back at a HYDRA facility in Siberia.” He responded, his voice flat, unaffected. You were surprised by this anecdote, and you were even more caught off guard that Steve never told you this, not that you ever asked about Bucky, he knew that subject was off limits.

“I didn’t know that.” He nodded.

“Yeah…I did attack him technically so it wasn’t unprovoked.” He admitted, breaking eye contact, “I’m pretty sure it also happened when you were in the hospital so that’s why you weren’t privy to what was going on.” You hadn’t considered that before, how much had happened in the world while you were recovering, piecing yourself back together in a sterile hospital room, drowning in silence while everything kept moving without you. He watched your fingers tracing the small patterns on his arm until you reached his hand again, hesitating for a moment before you laced your fingers between his. Neither of you spoke, you just sat, watching the way your hands fit together, squeezing slightly when adjusting your grips. His fingers closed around yours with a surprising amount of gentleness.

“This is…A little weird.” Bucky admitted.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Neither of you let go, though.

“You don’t have to keep holding it if it makes you uncomfortable.” He muttered, his eyes flickering up to yours.

“It’s not uncomfortable.” You responded, shaking your head. He went to say something, but before he could the pilot got on the intercom.

“We’re approaching Vienna,” The pilot announced, causing the both of you to look up, “Please fasten your seatbelts.” You looked back at him, and with slight reluctance, let his hand go. As the jet began its descent, the hum of the engines shifted, and the subtle change in angle caused your stomach to drop. You adjusted your seatbelt tightly against your stomach, glancing over at Bucky, who was relaxing in his spot, looking totally unbothered.

“Are you always this relaxed when the plane is landing?” You asked, a wave of nausea bubbling in your stomach as you adjusted your grip on the armrest.

“Yeah pretty much. Been on enough planes to know when to start panicking.” A groan escaped your throat, trying to ease the sickness.

“That’s really not helping right now.” Bucky smirked, adjusting himself in his seat.

“What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you we’re perfectly safe?” He mocked, as you groaned again at the turbulence.

“Yes,” You gritted your teeth, “A lie would be great.”

“Alright, alright.” He said, leaning forward slightly, “This is the smoothest landing I’ve ever been on. There’s nothing to worry about. The pilot is probably doing this with his eyes closed.” He whispered, holding back his laughter. You squinted at him.

“That didn’t help either.” You said, squeezing the armrest again. He sighed, reaching his vibranium hand out, and tapping his fingers against the table to get your attention.

“Instead of taking your anger out on the leather…And for practice, since I can tell you’re uncomfortable and a boyfriend would offer some form of comfort.” You let out a small laugh, “And considering you looked less miserable when you were holding it earlier…Thought it would be worth a shot.” Once again the jet moved and your stomach lurched.

“Okay okay!” You exclaimed, grabbing onto his hand, feeling his fingers wrap around yours instantly.

“Are you going to be sick?” You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly. Bucky’s grip was firm but not constricting, the warmth from his vibranium fingers grounding you as you exhaled through your nose.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, quieter this time. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, the small motion doing more to settle you than anything else had so far.

"Yeah, just-" You inhaled sharply as the wheels made contact with the runway, the force of the landing pressing you back against your seat. You squeezed his hand a little harder than you probably needed to, but he didn’t say anything, he just let you hold on as long as you needed to.

When the plane finally came to a halt, the pressure in your stomach eased. You opened your eyes, releasing a slow breath before blinking up at him, seeing his eyebrows were raised.

“You good now?” He asked, his thumb still absentmindedly brushing against your knuckles.

”Mhm…” You exhaled, loosening your grip from his, though you hesitated before fully letting go, “I think I can walk out of this thing without embarrassing myself too much.” He retracted his hand, unbuckling his seatbelt.

”Would’ve been great if you puked all over the runway though.” You shot him a glare.

”Real supportive there Bucky.” You replied, unbuckling your seatbelt as well, standing up from your spot.

”Hey, I held your hand.” He shrugged, a small laugh escaping his mouth.

”I’m going to put that on your fake boyfriend record…Decent under pressure, but D minus for aftercare.” He smirked.

”Duly noted, I’ll be sure to add something to your fake girlfriend record too.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your duffle bag from under your seat, throwing it over your shoulder.

“Hey hey. No. Hand me the bag.” He protested, causing your gaze to snap to his.

”What?” You questioned, your eyebrows knitting together.

”We have no idea if they’re already watching, I might as well be seen as a gentleman, not a douchebag that lets his partner carry her alarmingly large bag on her own.” You sighed, rolling your eyes but handing over the duffle bag anyways.

”If you start complaining about how heavy it is, I’m taking it back.” Bucky scoffed, effortlessly slinging the bag over his shoulder alongside his own.

“I’ve carried bodies heavier than this.” He responded.

”Wow. How romantic.” You shot back sarcastically, while walking towards the exit of the jet.

”It’s just part of the charm, sweetheart.” You could feel your cheeks heat up slightly at the nickname, as the cold Vienna air washed over your face. The tarmac was quiet, save for the faint buzzing of the airport staff moving around in the distance. Once you had walked down the steps you waited for Bucky before proceeding to the sleek black car that idled at the curb, it’s glossy surface reflecting the warm glow of the nearby streetlights. A man leaned casually against the trunk, arms crossed over his chest. His attire is meticulous; a well-fitted suit, dark leather gloves, and a wide-brimmed hat casting a subtle shadow over his sharp features. He looked extremely professional, though his posture had an air of indifference, like he’d been standing there too long and was ready to be anywhere else. When he had seen the both of you approaching he immediately straightened out, a small smile coming up on his face.

”Mr. Barnes.” He greeted, giving him a nod, “Welcome to Vienna.”

”Thank you.” The driver’s gaze then flickered toward you, as he gave you a nod as well.

”It’s a pleasure to have you as well Mrs…?” Bucky didn’t hesitate.

”Hopefully Mrs. Barnes one day,” He said smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist, fingers resting very lightly at your hip. You were caught off guard by how effortlessly he delivered the line, but you held a casual smile. The driver’s eyebrows lifted slightly, smirking, clearly entertained by Bucky’s response.

”A man with a plan. I respect that.” You forced a laugh, leaning into the act as much as possible.

“Always so charming.” You commented, resting your hand on his rigid abdomen. The driver smiled.

”Well, let’s get you two lovebirds to the hotel then!” He exclaimed, clasping his hands together as he walked towards the drivers side of the car. Bucky’s grip on your waist tightened just enough to remind you of the role you were playing, as he let go, moving to the trunk to put your duffle bags into it. You slid into the backseat, with Bucky following close behind. The leather interior was soft against your back as the both of you settled in, relaxing on your respective sides.

The car eased away from the airport, quickly merging onto the quiet streets of Vienna. The city was bathed in the golden glow of streetlights, the architecture looked regal and timeless against the dark sky, if you weren’t here for a mission you would’ve loved to explore more. The hum of the engine filling the space between you and Bucky. The driver adjusted his rearview mirror so he could look at the both of you.

”So, are you guys celebrating something special?” He asked, his voice casual as he maneuvered the car through the empty city streets.

“Our one year anniversary actually.” Bucky answered without hesitation. The driver let out a whistle.

”Wow, one year huh? That’s always a big one. First anniversaries are always special.” The driver’s enthusiasm was palpable, his grin wide and toothy. “First year of a relationship can always be the hardest they say, what’s the secret to making it?” He asked, glancing back at the road.

”Patience, and knowing when to pick your battles.” Bucky responded. You let out a short laugh at his response.

”That’s very funny coming from you.” Bucky smirked, glancing at you.

”What? You disagree?” You tilted your head, pretending to mull it over.

”Let’s say you have a very selective definition of ‘picking your battles.’” The driver chuckled at the interaction.

”It sounds like the both of you keep each other on your toes.”

“You could say that,” You replied, a playful tone lacing your voice, as you shot Bucky a knowing look.

“That’s how you know it’s real though. You guys can argue, but at the end of the day, you still choose each other.” He paused, then added, “You two planning anything special while you’re here?” Bucky hummed, glancing over at you before responding.

”Haven’t locked anything down yet, but we had some ideas. Sightseeing, going to some top rated restaurants, maybe a little dancing.” The driver nodded.

“Well, if you’re looking for ideas, you picked a great city to celebrate in.” He gestured out the windshield as he made a turn. “Vienna’s got something for everyone. You into history? The Schönbrunn Palace is breathtaking. Art? You can’t miss the Belvedere Museum. Or maybe you want something more intimate, the sunset at the Danube Tower is unforgettable.” Bucky drummed his fingers lightly against his thigh.

”Oh you’ve definitely given us some great suggestions, it’s going to be hard to narrow it down.” You nodded, agreeing with him, the mission still looming in the back of your mind.

”You know…You two remind me of my wife and I when we first started going out.” Bucky raised a brow, glancing over at you.

”Yeah?”

”Definitely,” He responded, his hands steady on the wheel, “Always teasing, making little quips at each other, but at the end of the day there was never any doubt that we were solid.” He turned down another street, “That’s how you know it’s real. When you can drive each other absolutely crazy and you still wouldn’t trade them for the world.” Bucky let out a small chuckle, shaking his head, glancing over at you.

”Well, we’ve definitely got the ‘driving each other crazy’ part down…Don’t we doll?” You wanted to nudge him in the ribs, but you held yourself back.

”Oh yeah. Definitely.” The driver let out a hearty laugh, as the car slowed, approaching a grand hotel. Its entrance was illuminated by the soft glow of golden lanterns, the stairs leading up to the towering glass doors were lined with polished stones, where a doorman in a crisp uniform stood at attention, watching him coming down the steps as soon as the vehicle came to a stop.

”Well, lovebirds, here we are.” The driver announced with a grin as he shifted the car into park, “Welcome to the Imperial!” Bucky exhaled through his nose, glancing over at you, a look of relief washing over his face. He must’ve been itching to get out of the car right when the driver started asking questions. Bucky took his wallet out quickly, handing the man a tip.

“Thank you for the ride.” He said, wasting no time opening the door and stepping out, holding his hand out for you to grab, still trying to keep up appearances.

“Enjoy your stay! And remember, don’t sweat the small stuff.” Bucky leaned down to look at the man.

”We’ll keep it in mind. Thank you again.” He responded politely, closing the door behind him, as the doorman opened the trunk of the car.

“Welcome to the Imperial! I’ll bring your bags in for you, no need to wait for me, you can go and get yourselves checked in.” Bucky gave the doorman a quick nod. You could tell he was eager to get inside and escape the unnecessary small talk, just like you at this point. His hand pressed lightly against your lower back, as he gestured for you to head towards the entrance first.

The moment you stepped inside, the warmth of the hotel lobby enveloped you, a stark contrast to the bitter night air that was brewing outside. The Imperial exuded luxury in every detail; polished marble floors reflected the golden glow of crystal chandeliers overhead, and the faint scent of fresh lilies mingled with the rich aroma of tobacco, like someone had lit a cigar and left it out to marinate. Ornate columns framed the space, leading toward an opulent sitting area where a handful of late-night guests lingered over drinks, their laughter a quiet murmur beneath the soft classical music playing from hidden speakers. You both walked by, garnering their attention for a brief moment before they returned back to their conversations.

Behind the counter, a woman in her mid-thirties with sharp cheekbones, deep red lipstick, and perfectly slicked back brown hair stood, looking at her computer screen with an emotionless expression, nothing behind the eyes.. When she heard you approaching her gaze flicked up, lingering on Bucky for just a little longer than necessary before looking at you. You could see her straighten her back, almost to puff her chest out, and her expression shifted into something more warm and inviting.

”Good evening! Welcome to the Imperial,” She greeted smoothly, her voice like silk against the air, “Do you have a reservation with us this evening?” Bucky gave her a small nod, taking out his wallet.

”Uh…It should be under Barnes. James Barnes.” You glanced over at him, watching him pull out a credit card that had his name scrawled on the back of it, handing it over to her so she could compare the information. She glanced at the card then her screen, scrolling through the list of guests.

”Ah,” She murmured, tapping the enter key, “Here you are. A deluxe suite. What an excellent choice.” Her smile widened ever so slightly, as she handed Bucky’s card back, letting her fingers graze his. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, it was barely noticeable. He took his card back, clearing his throat slightly.

”The deluxe suite is one of our finest…It’s spacious, private…Perfect for an…” She let the words linger, tilting her head a bit, “Intimate getaway.” You were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the interaction, and you could tell by the way Bucky was fidgeting he was probably in the same boat. He gave her a polite nod, slipping his card back into his wallet.

”It sounds like we got lucky.” The receptionist's smile didn’t waver, if anything it grew even wider.

“Oh, I’d say you’re very lucky, Mr. Barnes.” Her voice dipped just enough into suggestiveness that it caused Bucky’s grip on his wallet to tighten, as her eyes roamed over him. She picked up a black folder, sliding it towards him with ease.

”All the details of your stay will be in here, your key card, the room service menu, spa packages…” She trailed off, her manicured nails tapping against the folders edge, “And of course, if you need anything extra, I’d be happy to personally ensure your stay is perfect.” Bucky nodded stiffly, shifting his weight into you a bit, desperate to wrap this interaction up.

”I appreciate it.” He responded, stepping back a bit, as you took the folder from the desk. Before the receptionist could say anything else, the doorman came in, carrying both of your bags with practiced ease.

”Here we are!” He announced, “Would you like me to bring them up to your suite for you?” Bucky shook his head, jumping at the chance to break free from the lingering tension.

”No need. I got it.” He held his hand out, grabbing both bags from the man, throwing them over his shoulder, his biceps flexing against his fitted long sleeve shirt. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the receptionist’s gaze flicking downward, taking in the ease of his actions, obviously enjoying the view. You let out a small exasperated sigh, as you leaned into Bucky a little more, dragging your hand up his torso, feeling his muscles flinch slightly.

”Baby, can we please go up to the room now? I’ve been dying for a bit of privacy since we got off the plane.” He looked over at you, his eyes widened a bit, taken off guard by your sudden change in tone, now slipping in to save him from being flirted with.

”Of course…Yeah. Where are the elevators?” The both of you turned your attention back to the receptionist, seeing that her expression of lust had faltered just a bit, her smiling tightening at the edges.

”They’re going to be down the hallway to your left. Enjoy your stay.” Bucky didn’t waste a second, moving away from the desk, slipping his hand to your lower back guiding you to the elevators.

As soon as the doors slid closed, the both of you quickly unravelled yourselves from each other, standing on different sides of the elevator.

”Jesus Christ.” Bucky muttered, staring up at the mirrored ceiling, “That was awful.” You smirked.

”She was just being nice.” Bucky’s head snapped down.

”Nice? She was acting like she was going to rip my clothes off in the middle of the lobby. I was about five seconds away from running for my life.” You laughed.

”Who knew the Winter Soldier would be afraid of a little flirting.” Bucky scoffed.

”I’ve seen flirting before. That was not flirting.” He insisted, “And you could’ve stepped in a little sooner y’know.” You let out a soft laugh.

”Well, maybe I wanted to watch you simmer a little bit. You’re the one that went off kilter with the anniversary thing with the driver, it was just pay back.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, shifting his stance a bit, feeling the elevator stop on your floor.

”Yeah…I guess you’re right.” A ding echoed through the small space, signalling your arrival, “Let’s just get inside the room before she comes chasing after us asking if I want a private spa service or something.” He wasted no time stepping out of the elevator, adjusting his grip on the bags, with you following him closely down the lavishly decorated hallway. The plush navy carpet absorbed your footsteps, it felt like you were walking on memory foam. You took the keycard out of the folder the receptionist gave, as you reached your suite, sliding it through with euro hesitation, hearing the door click open, pushing it open wide before slipping into the suite.

You step in first, taking in the expansive suite with its elegant decor. The soft yellow lighting illuminates the room, casting a warm glow all over the navy accents that were strewn about the room. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city, and from way up there you could see things were still buzzing. It was undeniably luxurious, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. Your eyes continued to skim over the accommodations, as Bucky stepped in behind you, dropping the bags in front of the closet, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Damn…Pretty fancy.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he began to wander. You stepped towards the windows, wanting to get a better look at the view, crossing your arms over your stomach to hold yourself. Bucky moved toward the small kitchenette, his fingers drumming along the marble countertop.

“Mmm…At least we got a free bottle of champagne.” He announced, as you looked over your shoulder, seeing him turn the bottle towards you, a smirk on his lips, placing it back down on the counter, so that he could continue to explore the suite further, disappearing behind a partially opened door. You heard him hum in mild amusement before poking his head out.

”You’d be happy to know that the bed is massive. You’re gonna love it.” You stepped away from the window, making your way toward the bedroom. The room matched the accents of the main living area, the deep navy, the gold accents, the thick carpeting, with a bed so big that it could at least fit three people comfortably.

“It’s nice.” Bucky smirked, watching as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

”There’s just one issue.” Bucky raised a brow.

”What?” You motioned to the wall opposite of the bed.

”There’s no TV in here…” He glanced at the wall.

”Guess they think people coming in here don’t need distractions.” You let out a quiet sigh.

”I can’t sleep without background noise.” You murmured, seeing Bucky’s face fall a bit, now realizing you were being serious. You slipped out of the bedroom, hearing Bucky’s footsteps following close behind.

”Is that a you thing or…Is that a HYDRA thing?” He asked, watching as you went over to the counter that had the bottle of champagne on it, ripping off the black foil.

”I think you can take a guess,” You responded, twisting the metal that was holding the cork on the bottle. His jaw ticked, not needing to push you any further for details, as he moved towards you, leaning against the counter, his fingers idly tapping against his bicep.

”I get it.” You threw the curled metal onto the counter, putting your hand over the cork, turning it slowly.

”Sure.” The tone was a bit dismissive, and you didn’t mean for it to sound that way, all you wanted to do was avoid the conversation about HYDRA.

”I sleep on the floor, with the lights on, and even when those conditions are met I still can’t get a normal night's rest. So I do get it Y/N.” Your movements faltered for a moment, your grip on the cork tightening. The tension in Bucky’s voice wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t light either. You swallowed thickly, letting the words settle between the both of you until the cork popped with a soft thud. You reached for the two tubular glasses and poured the champagne into them slowly, being mindful of the bubbles that frothed at the surface. Bucky stayed where he was, as you handed him a full glass.

”If you need the background noise you can sleep out here, if you want.” You glanced up at him.

“What?” He motioned towards the couch in the living room area.

”You can take the couch since I won’t be using it, and I don’t mind background noise…I probably won’t be sleeping tonight anyways.” You hesitated for a moment, taking a small sip from the champagne glass, letting the sweet, and bitter flavour mingle on your tongue.

“Couch it is…I guess.” You responded. Bucky gave a tiny, satisfied nod before raising his glass slightly, not as a toast, just as a simple acknowledgment of the situation, with you mirroring the same gesture, the both of you downing the whole glass in one go. The fizzy liquid burned slightly on the way down, but it was far from it being unpleasant. If anything, it helped take the edge off, even if it was just a little. Your tongue swiped across your lips, chasing the lingering taste.

“Well, that’s definitely a way to settle in.” You huffed a quiet laugh.

”Could be worse, we could be stuck in some rundown motel with paper-thin walls.” Bucky smirked, setting his empty champagne glass down on the counter with a quiet clink.

”I actually think if we were in a rundown motel less eyes would be on us.” You placed your glass down as well.

”Yeah, but then we’d have to deal with the possibility of bedbugs, a busted heater, and a crappy television set.”

”Sounds like a real test of endurance.” He quipped, as he grabbed the countertop with his hands.

”Mmm, real elite training there Bucky. Maybe throw in some mystery stains on the carpet for a little bit of spice.” He snorted, shaking his head as he reached for one of the mini bottles of whisky that came with the mini bar.

”Speaking of challenges, we should probably get something to eat before we start drinking more.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

”Did we get different super serums or something? Because I could’ve sworn I don’t get drunk and I’ve really tried to override that.” He smirked, twisting off the small cap from the bottle, taking a sip.

”No, we definitely have similar versions if you don’t get drunk, but then again I haven’t really ran into anyone else like us to ask this question.” You hummed, handing him the room service menu.

”Well, if we ever do, I think that’ll be the first question I ask. Forget the whole ‘where are you from, what’s your story’, I’m leading with ‘can you go through multiple large bottles of alcohol and not absolutely destroy your liver?’” Bucky laughed.

”Yeah, it’s definitely an important question to ask, skip all the pleasantries, get straight to the essentials.” You smirked, watching as he flipped open the menu, his eyes skimming along the items.

”Alright, what are we thinking? Fries? Sliders? Mystery meat from the hotel’s five-star kitchen?” You shrugged, leaning against the counter.

”Honestly, just order anything. As long as it’s not snails or something that still has a face.” He nodded, reaching for the phone.

”Don’t worry, I have the same sentiment. No fine dining nightmares.” You listened as he placed the order, keeping it simple with fries, sliders, and a charcuterie board because he wanted something to pick at. He also made sure to add the large bottle of whisky onto the order just before hanging up.

”They said it’ll be here in about thirty minutes.” He said, stretching his arms above his head to crack his back and neck.

”Alright, I’m gonna hit the shower first then since it’s gonna be a bit of a wait.” Bucky nodded.

”Go for it, I’ll make sure they don’t slip something into our food.” You made your way over to your bag, grabbing the pajamas you brought before heading toward the bathroom.

”Ever the soldier, Barnes.”

”Hey, it comes with the territory.” He shot back, as you closed the door behind you. The space was sleek and modern, all marble and gold accents, the kind of luxury that made you hesitate for a second. It felt too pristine, too untouched. You shook off the thought and turned the shower on, letting the water heat up as steam filled the room. You peeled your clothes off, leaving them in a small pile on the floor, before stepping under the boiling water, sighing as the heat ran over your skin. You could feel the tension in your muscles melt away, and for the first time in the last few hours, you felt yourself truly relax beneath the stream.

You ran your hands over your arms, watching the droplets of water slide over your skin, reaching over to pump a bit of body wash into your hand. The lush scent of lavender tickled your nose, as you ran the soap along the planes of your body, taking time with yourself to just absorb the calm environment. It wasn’t often that you got to enjoy something as simple as a hot shower without rushing, nor without your mind racing. You lingered longer than usual, running your hands over your body, tracing the rivulets of water as they slid down your skin. It felt indulgent in a way—like taking your time was a luxury.

After a while, the heat began to weigh on you, and you reached to turn off the water, stepping out onto the plush bath mat. The mirror was fogged over, your reflection blurring at the edges as you wiped a hand across the glass

You grabbed a towel, running it over your arms and legs before wrapping it around yourself. The air was noticeably cooler now that you were out of the shower, a stark contrast to the warmth you’d just been under. You stood for a moment, looking at your reflection before grabbing your pajamas, and pulling them on, starting with your baggy tan t-shirt, then ending with your shorts that you could barely see due to the length of the top. You stopped to look at your reflection for a moment, turning to the side to look at the three deep scar tissue marks on your outer thigh, your fingertips running along them, letting out a frustrated sigh, before fixing the shirt over it. You hung the damp towel on the back of the door, stepping back out into the main area of the suite, pushing your hair out of your face. Bucky was sitting at the little coffee table, pouring himself another glass of whiskey, looking up when the floor creaked.

His blue eyes scanned over you quietly. You could see the way they roamed up your bare legs, the way he stared at the oversized shirt that silhouetted over your figure. Just for a second you caught a subtle shift in his expression, but he didn’t say anything, he glanced back down at his glass, running his thumb over the rim of the glass. You weren’t sure if his reaction made you feel awkward, but you tried not to notice it, as you made your way to the seat across from him, seeing the food had already arrived and he had waited for you. The charcuterie board was neatly arranged, the sliders looked perfectly cooked, and the fries were still warm, the smell of salt and crisped potatoes filling the air.

“I’m impressed you didn’t rip this entire plate apart.” You said, reaching for a fry, before plopping yourself down on the seat in front of him. Bucky brought his glass of whiskey to his lips.

”Figured it’d be rude if I didn’t wait.” He explained, taking a sip. You hummed in approval, popping the fry into your mouth.

“How thoughtful.” Bucky’s eyes rested on yours for a moment, as he settled his glass down.

”You want some?” He asked, gesturing to the bottle of whiskey. You nodded, grabbing the empty glass in front of you, holding it out for him to pour into. The amber liquid sloshed around slightly, just before he set the bottle back down on the table. You brought the drink up to your lips, taking a small sip, feeling the heat spreading in your mouth, then down your throat. Bucky cleared his throat, gaining your attention.

”I just…I just want to ask.” He hesitated, looking through the glass coffee table at the three scars on your outer thigh. You traced his eyesight, and looked down, “Did I…?” You blinked, caught off guard for a second. He looked like he was bracing himself, waiting to hear another thing he had done that he completely forgot about. You immediately shook your head.

”No,” You replied. “It wasn’t you.” His shoulders relaxed, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face.

”Alright,” He muttered, his eyes still lingering on them, because now he was thinking about who might’ve done it to you.

”Bucky,” You said gently, drawing his attention back up to you, “You don’t have to hold your breath every time you notice something. Trust me, you would’ve known if you caused this.” Bucky nodded slowly, his fingers toying with the rim of his glass again.

“Just wanted to check.” You exhaled softly.

”I get it.” And you really did. His mind was just jumping to the worst-case scenario, as if it was easier for him to believe he was the cause of all the violence you had experienced in your life, rather than realize, for once, he wasn’t to blame.

The two of you continued to pick at the food, trading quiet conversation between bites, until exhaustion started to creep in. You glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was almost 3 o’clock in the morning, groaning as you pushed yourself up from your seat.

“I’m gonna grab the duvet off the bed,” You said, heading towards the bedroom. Bucky watched you disappear before he stood as well, stretching his arms above his head. By the time you returned with the thick duvet and matching pillow bundled in your arms, he had already grabbed a folded blanket from the closet, and was tossing it down onto the floor near the couch. You shifted past him, letting the duvet unravel in your hands, dropping it over the couch, adjusting it as you threw the pillow down on top of it, before sliding beneath the covering, pulling it up to your neck, letting out a sigh at the warmth.

Bucky turned on the television, and left on one of the side table lamps that was closest to him, as he got himself comfortable on the floor beside the couch, shaking his blanket out and carefully lowering himself down with ease, making it clear that it wasn’t his first rodeo. He let out a small groan, turning onto his side so he was facing the muddied infomercials that were on the screen, shifting so he could get comfortable.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the low hum of the television. The infomercials blurred into background noise, a comforting, monotonous buzz against the silence that had settled between the two of you. You lay on the couch, your head sinking into the pillow, but your mind wasn’t quite ready to shut off yet. You glanced over the side of the couch, looking at Bucky who was now laying on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, while his vibranium fingers flexed against the fabric of his shirt.

“Bucky.” You whispered, he hummed, opening his eyes to look up at you.

”Yeah?” He asks, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

“What are you thinking about?” You hear him swallow at the question, watching him shift a bit.

”The usual things I think about. Sometimes I get these headaches, and I get these…Memories of things. I don’t know if it’s from all the mind wiping they did to me, but it’s like it fills in the gaps.” You could see the tension in his jaw, and the way he was running his vibranium hand along his shirt, like he was trying to soothe himself.

”What kind of memories?” You asked softly.

”Not the good ones…It’s always people I don’t recognize, but it’s usually safe to assume I’ve hurt them in some way.” He whispered, “It’s not clear enough to tell. It’s fragments. A voice, a place, a feeling. I don’t even know if they’re real or not, because I don’t remember things completely, you know what I mean?” You nodded slowly, your fingers curling into the edge of the duvet.

”I get it.” You replied, his eyes flickered toward you.

”Yeah?” You exhaled slowly, shifting on the couch so you were in his line of sight.

”Well, I didn’t go through what you did, but after I escaped and defected, I went through a period where I was constantly having nightmares. I was an absolute wreck. I still have moments where I remember things and it scares the shit out of me, because it feels like I’m back there.” Bucky let out a small laugh, but it wasn’t one of amusement.

”Seems like we have something in common, some nights I wake up and it’s like I’m back there being pinned against the new soldiers all over again, getting the crap beat out of me because HYDRA wanted to see if they were as strong as their first prototype.” You could feel a shiver creep up your bones as you moved back a bit.

”I escaped before they could pin me against you.” He let out a slow breath.

”I know…If I can remember anything about you from back then, it’s that HYDRA had a vendetta against you. That’s why when you escaped they sent me after you.” You nodded.

”Because I broke their precious programming.”

”Mmm, and it pissed them off.” He smirked, “They don’t like loose ends.” You laughed a bit.

”No, they don’t. I’m shocked they never found out that I lived through your attack.” You said, digging your nails into your palm.

“When I found out from Steve that you were still alive I thought he was joking, I had never failed a mission. I kept saying that to him too, and he kept telling me you were in the hospital. Still kicking. Recovering from what I did. He never went into detail about what I had done, probably to not add to the psychological torment.” You smirked.

”Yeah when he told me that he told you I was still alive I almost punched a hole through him.” Bucky let out a small laugh.

”Sounds about right…” He paused, still running his fingers over his top, “Can I be honest about something though?”

“Of course.” He sighed, sitting up so he was face to face with you.

”When he told me you were alive I was really relieved.” You studied him for a moment, seeing him push his hair out of his face, “And when he would come see me…I would ask how you were.” You leaned up on your arm, surprised by this admission, taken completely off guard by what he was saying, “He would tell me all the little updates, but he also told me to not show my face or else you would probably kill me.” You raised your eyebrows at him, remembering the times where Steve would casually ask the nurses if there was anything new going on with me, realizing that it wasn’t for him, it was for Bucky.

”Well he wasn’t wrong there…Even in the briefing room yesterday I was contemplating killing you.” You commented.

”Yeah, I could see it in your eyes when you saw me. I knew you weren’t going to be happy to see me, but my goodness I didn’t think you were going to go in so hard on me.” You scratched the back of your neck.

”Can’t really blame me there…I’m sorry for those things I said though, I got really nasty, and I hit below the belt, and Maria was right...I pushed your buttons.” He shook his head.

”It’s okay, I deserved it, and for what it’s worth…I’m also sorry for getting in your face during that whole thing. Should’ve just let you take your anger out on me, just like everyone used to.” For a long moment the two of you just stayed still, facing each other. The room felt like it had shrunk around you, but it wasn’t suffocating at all. Bucky’s eyes flickered over your face, trying to figure out what you were thinking, but he couldn’t find anything. The weight of everything that had just been spoken about beared down on the both of you, but it had softened some of the resentment you were still holding onto. He watched as you sat up, pushing the duvet off you, and before he could ask what you were doing, you wrapped your arms around him, bringing him in for a hug.

Immediately he stiffened, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. You felt so warm against him, that it took a moment to register what was happening, but when he finally pulled himself out of his racing thoughts, he released a quiet shudder, and wrapped his arms around you as well. You weren’t sure why you had done it. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the weight of everything between you two, pressing in from all sides. But as you held him, you could feel the tension in his body, the way his breathing had become uneven, shallow.

And then, you felt it.

A single shuddered breath against your shoulder. The quietest sniff—so small, so restrained, as if he was fighting against it with everything he had, and then a few warm droplets hitting the fabric of your shirt. Tears. You could feel his arms tighten around you ever so slightly, digging his face into your shoulder like he was shielding himself, or so you couldn’t move back to see him. You breathed in, catching the sweet minty scent of his clothes for a brief moment, as you ran a hand down his back to soothe him. He trembled against you, another sob escaping his throat, muffled by your shoulder.

“I-“ He tried to speak, but his voice was cut off by him breathing in.

”Shh…You don’t have to say anything Bucky…It’s okay.” You whispered, and for the rest of the time you sat there holding him, he didn’t say anything. He just held onto you as tightly as possible.

————

“Bucky. I need you to come in here and zip me up. I’m not flexible.” You yelled, looking at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the tight silk fabric of the dress, pulling it down as far as it could go. You could hear the sound of Bucky’s heavy steps approaching the washroom, before he pushed open the door, buttoning up the sleeves of his black dress shirt that fit snugly against his broad frame. You were surprised at how well he cleaned up, and how good he looked in just a black dress shirt and a pair of dark grey dress pants. It was so simple, yet so…Sophisticated. He glanced up from what he was doing, his eyebrows raising a little bit, a smirk appearing on his lips. You squinted at him.

”What’s that face all about? Hmm? Do you want to wear the dress?” Bucky laughed, shaking his head, stepping closer to you.

“I don’t think I’d fit into it, but I’d love to see you try to get me into one…Now turn around.” You rolled your eyes at his comment, but did as he said, turning your back to him and adjusting your hair so it wouldn’t possibly get in his way. He stepped towards you, his fingers finding the zipper, picking up where you left off. You could feel the fabric getting tighter against your body as he brought the zipper higher up your back, his vibranium hand absentmindedly settling on your waist to hold you still. He sighed, letting you go once he had fully zipped the dress up, catching the way his eyes roamed over your reflection, his teeth briefly biting his bottom lip.

”All set.” He announced, watching as you adjusted the fabric again, seeing his eyes flicking to the scar in the middle of your chest that was poking out from just above the neckline of the dress, his eyes softening.

“Something on your mind, Barnes?” You asked, gaining his attention, drawing him out of his trance.

”No…Just looking.” You raised an eyebrow at him, reaching for the thin gold chain you had placed on the countertop.

”And what exactly are you looking at?” Your tone was playful, trying to settle into the mood you would have to be in the whole night. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you fastened the delicate chain around your neck, letting it settle gently on your skin.

”What do you think I’m looking at?” He responded, now leaning himself against the countertop, looking at the way you continued to adjust yourself.

“If I’m not mistaken…It seems like you’re enjoying the view.”You said, reaching for your earrings, tilting your head to glance over at him.

“You’re definitely not mistaken.” His voice was smooth, with an undeniable teasing tone lacing his words. You let out a small huff, fighting the heat that began to creep up onto your cheeks, as you clasped one of your earrings into place.

”You know Bucky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are flirting with me.” He smirked, turning fully towards you, as his vibranium fingers tapped along the sink.

”And if I am?” He asked, his eyebrows raising, your gaze meeting his through the reflection, as you fastened the second earring.

”Then I’d say you’re laying it on pretty thick.” He laughed a bit, moving closer to you, your body turning to face him now. He looked down at you.

”You wound me, doll,” He murmured, feigning hurt, “Here I am, just trying to be a convincing partner for the night, and you’re saying I’m laying it on too thick.” You scoffed.

”Oh please.” Bucky’s eyes continue to roam over your face, looking at the way your skin glowed under the harsh lighting of the bathroom, the way your lashes framed your eyes when you looked up at him, the way you studied every expression that came up on his face. There was a beat of silence.

“All jokes aside though…You look great.” His compliment caught you off guard for a split second, as you cleared your throat.

”Well. You clean up pretty well yourself.” He hummed, looking at himself in the mirror.

”You really think so?” You gave him a once-over, using it as an excuse to really take in how form fitting the outfit was, tilting your head slightly, pretending to contemplate.

”Mmm, yeah, you look presentable enough.” Bucky let out a dramatic scoff.

”Presentable enough? That’s all I get huh?” His eyes narrowing with playful offense, drawing out a small beat of laughter from you. You reached for your cherry chapstick, not wanting to be too bold for the night, taking off the cap.

”Now, now, don’t be so dramatic, I’m sure there will still be plenty of eyes on you tonight regardless of what I say.” You said, swiping the sheer red colour over your bottom lip, then the top, repeating a few times.

“Is that so?” Bucky mused, watching you press your lips together, as you capped the tube, tossing it into your small bag.

”Let me see, the hostess, for one, probably all the women in the room, and even the men at this point.” You responded.

“I think you may have left someone out in that long list of yours.” You raised your eyebrows at him, adjusting the dress one more time.

”Oh yeah? And who might that be?” You asked.

”You.” He whispered, leaning in down a bit, getting into your space, his sweet, lavender scented cologne invading your senses. You held your ground though, refusing to crack under how smooth he was with his flirting.

”I didn’t know you wanted my attention so badly.” You replied back, leaning in as well, almost like you were challenging him, getting close enough that you were basically exchanging breaths with one another.

“Can you blame me?” He asked. You could feel your pulse gallop for a split second, as your lips parted, trying to find a witty remark to rebuttal with, only for you to stop short. His gaze flicked between your eyes, then to your lips, his blue irises glistening beneath the lighting. You cleared your throat, breaking the silence.

”That depends…Are you going to be like this all night?” He hummed.

”Are you going to let me? Because I can do this all night sweetheart, won’t even break a sweat.” You could feel the heart crawling up your chest. He was testing you, waiting for you to crack, but you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction.

”That’s a bold claim. You sure you can back it up?” He wet his lips with his tongue, his gaze still locked onto yours.

”You know I can.” The tension between you felt electric, humming in the small space that was still between you, buzzing loudly. Neither of you were willing to step back.

”Is that right?”” You murmured, your voice smooth, testing.

”You want me to prove it?” You arched an eyebrow.

”Are you offering?” His vibranium tapped along the edge of the countertop, whilst his other hand brushed lightly over the fabric at the bottom of your dress, barely touching it as he toyed with the hem.

”Hmm. Yeah, I am.” You could feel his fingers trail up just a fraction higher before you grabbed his wrist. The air in the room shifted, an all encompassed heat raising to your cheeks. He smiled at you, seeing the way you broke eye contact, your eyelashes fluttering involuntarily.

“Too much?” He asked, teasing.

“No…We just have to get going.” You replied. He looked down at you for one more second, gently biting the inside of his lip, before pulling his hand away, lifting his hands in mock surrender.

”Right. Wouldn’t want to be late.” You turned away from him, grabbing your bag from off the counter, the warmth of his touch still lingering against your skin. He watched you closely, hearing the shakiness of your breathing that you tried to cover up by making additional noise, but he knew. He tucked his hands into his pockets, a restraint to hold himself back from touching you again.

“Come on…We got places to be.” You announced, walking past him, keeping your eyes off him.

—————

From the street, the neon-red glow of The Velvet Fang’s sign bathed the alleyway in an eerie, seductive light, casting long shadows against the damp pavement. The sign flickered slightly, a heartbeat of crimson against the darkness of the night, drawing attention like a whisper promising something sinful just beyond its threshold. Bucky’s arm was draped over your waist as the both of you made your way towards the security guard, the scent of rain lingering in the air around you, mixing with the distant aroma of cigar smoke coming from the people that lined the alleyway. There were faint looks of exhaustion printed on their aged faces, and small sweat marks staining their shirts. You were thankful you had dressed lightly, because evidently it seemed like it was going to be overwhelmingly warm in the club.

The security guard stationed by the entrance was tall, and broad shouldered, a mountain of a man, with a shaved head, and dark eyes that roamed over you. You and Bucky stepped towards him, and his hard expression barely shifted, he had a tablet in his hand, which shadowed his face harshly.

”Name?” He asked, only looking at Bucky.

”James Barnes.” He replied, his hand twitching against your waist slightly, almost as if he was giving a warning. The guard looked down at the screen, scrolling up for a moment, before clicking on something. He took a moment, and you could see his eyes scanning over something, glancing up at Bucky, then at you.

“Super soldiers hmm?” He had a hint of interest in his eyes, as he continued to scan over whatever he had been looking at moments ago. Of course they did their research, you could imagine what was on that tablet, all the information. You wouldn’t be surprised if they had been watching you since you stepped foot in Vienna. Bucky didn’t react beyond a tight-lipped smile.

”Is it an issue?” His voice was casual, smooth, and non-threatening. The security guard looked up from the screen, letting out a short, gruff chuckle.

”Not an issue, we get all kinds coming here. All we ask is that you don’t start any problems.” Bucky offered a slow nod, his fingers soothing against the fabric of your dress.

”Wouldn’t dream of it.” The guard studied him for a second longer, before his eyes trailed over to you, dragging over your frame in a way that made your skin crawl. Finally, he stepped aside, motioning towards the metal door, sliding it open.

”Enjoy yourselves.” The moment you stepped inside, the heavy metal door groaned shut behind you, sealing off the outside world. There was a dimly lit hallway leading towards a set of stairs, and the thrum of music vibrated through the floor, a slow seductive beat booming under your legs, almost making them turn to jelly. You could smell the distinct scent of musk in the air; sweat, smoky leather…It was as if it clung to every surface of the enclosed space. Bucky still held your waist, as he guided you towards the staircase. Just before you could step down, he pulled you to the side, into the shadows of a small corridor, leaning in to talk into the shell of your ear so you could hear him over the chest shaking bass that continued to grow in volume. One hand settled on your waist, while the vibranium one was pressed against the wall behind you.

“I need you to listen to me for a minute okay?” You tilted your chin up, nodding at him.

”If we get separated, you don’t come looking for me. You don’t wait around. You leave. Do you understand?” Bucky wasn’t just saying this as a precaution, he was saying it because he knew there was a real possibility of things going wrong, and you could hear the tinge of worry sprinkled in his voice, even though he tried to hold it back. You shook your head.

”That’s ridiculous Bucky. I’m not going to run, are you insane? You can’t ask that of me.” He pulled away from you.

“Why do you always have to argue with me Y/N. Just please for the love of god listen to me.” Your jaw tightened, the weight of his words pressed down on your chest.

”You’re asking me to abandon you, Bucky. Do you not hear yourself?” His fingers on your waist twitched.

”I do hear myself, and I need you to hear me too.” You looked up at him, your eyes glistening in the faint red light of the corridor.

”It’s not an option, Bucky. I’m not doing it.” You crossed your arms over your stomach.

”Do you really think I want to be saying this to you right now?” Your arms stayed locked around yourself, a weak shield against the way his words were sinking into you, as you looked away from him.

“I’m not doing it.” You repeated. Bucky exhaled sharply, his hand leaving your waist for a brief moment, before his calloused touch reached your face, his rough thumbs pressing against your cheekbones, tilting your head to look up at him again. It was gentle, yet firm all at the same time.

“Please.” His voice was stripped of its usual steadiness, “Please Y/N. If something happens, I need to know you’ll be safe. You need to just listen to me. Please.” You could feel his hot breath hitting against your face, the all too familiar scent of him wrapping around you, warming your body. You could feel your chest tighten, your pulse hammering away in your throat, as you reached up and wrapped your hands around his wrists.

”Bucky…” His forehead dipped dangerously close to yours, his breath becoming heavier against your skin.

“Please.” He begged again. His voice cracked, almost like how he sounded last night after he had stopped crying, after he apologized for your tear soaked shirt, after he laid back down and said goodnight. You wanted to scream at him, maybe it would make him understand that you didn’t work this way, but it wasn’t going to work…

”…Fine. I’ll do it…” You could feel his breath come out in a sigh, as he pulled back, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss between your brows. His breath came out shakily against your skin, as his thumbs traced over your cheekbones for a split second, before stopping. The action had caught you off guard, but you couldn’t even think, because by the time you had something to say his lips had left your skin.

”Thank you.” He whispered, pulling back from you, his hands leaving your face, his warmth parting from your body. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a moment to recollect himself, his eyes flicking back to yours. You swallowed thickly.

”We should head in.” You said, breaking the silence. Bucky gave a slow nod, holding out his hand for you, guiding you toward the descending staircase, your eyes adjusting to the blood red walls that surrounded you.

The closer you got to the club area, the heavier the bass thumped through your chest, rattling through every bone in your body like a second heartbeat. The moment you stepped through the final set of doors, it was like you had crossed a threshold into a different world entirely. Now the smell of leather, sweat, and something much more heady settled in the back of your throat. It was dizzying.

The inside of the club was dark, you could barely see anything apart from the shadows that were cast from the strobe lights that were going in chaotic bursts, distorting the movement of the bodies that were tangling themselves into each other on the dance floor, but you could barely see. The music wasn’t just loud now, it was vibrating throughout your entire body, almost to the point where it made you nauseous. Your eyes took a while to adjust to the dimmed lighting, as you felt Bucky tense beside you, his hand tightening around yours. You looked over at him, seeing the way his face had dropped, like he was in shock, caught off guard in some way.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky yelled, but it sounded like a whisper over the deafening bass. Your eyes finally adjusted to the lighting, and now your gaze followed his, connecting the dots as to why he looked so tense.

The dance floor was a writhing mass of limbs, hands touching breasts, settling between thighs, exploring each other, mouths meeting in heated kisses, completely losing themselves in the pools of lust and desire. There were booths that lined the outer perimeter of the dance floor that were hardly private. Some had sheer curtains that barely concealed the occupants inside, while others remained entirely open so that the scenes within them were revealed to the rest of the patrons. A man sat back lazily on a plush seat, his fingers tangled in a woman’s hair as she knelt between his legs, while in another booth there was a trio wrapped up together, moving in intoxicating synchrony.

Bucky leaned in close, his lips hovering just beside your ear.

”I need a fucking drink.” You nodded in agreement, as he pulled you towards the bar on the side of the dance floor. You stayed close to him, your hand tightening around his to make sure the both of you didn’t separate in the chaos of it all.

As you reached the bar, the dim glow of the red light bathed the sleek obsidian bouncer top, reflecting against the rows of expensive liquor that was lined up behind it. The bartender, a tall man with slicked back hair tied into a bun, gave an amused smirk towards the both of you, watching as you sat down on one of the stools.

“What can I get you?” You glanced over at Bucky, motioning for him to order first.

”Whiskey…Neat please.” The bartender nodded, turning to you.

”And for the lady?” You hesitated for a second, as Bucky’s hand rested against your thigh, his thumb tracing along the warm skin.

”I’ll have a tequila pineapple. Thank you.” The bartender leaned in closer to you, a spicy cinnamon scent immediately hitting your nose.

”A single or double shot?” He asked, you glanced over at Bucky, then back towards him.

”Double please.” He smirked, moving back to collect the bottles needed for the drinks, and the glasses as well. The bartender moved with an ease only a professional with years of experience would have, pouring Bucky’s whiskey while he poured out the shots of tequila for your drink, then poured the pineapple juice as well. He slid both drinks towards you, and smiled, going to the other side of the bar to take other orders.

Neither of you spoke as you drank, it was as if you didn’t want to talk about what was going on throughout the club. You kept your eyes locked on the glass, taking generous gulps, letting the burn radiate through your chest. Bucky’s hand remained on your thigh, tracing up your exposed skin, as he surveyed the room, trying his best not to be obvious. You could feel the slight flex of his fingers, before he continued to rub gently, like he was trying to soothe himself, and you at the same time. You finished your drink, placing the glass back on the bar, as Bucky moved towards you, pushing your hair away from your ear.

“I think we need to move, if we keep sitting here it’s gonna draw attention.” Your skin prickled under the heat of his breath, and for a split second, you thought you felt his lips.

”Yeah. Okay.” You replied, as he pulled back, his fingers leaving your thigh, offering you help off your stool. He held your hand as he guided you away from the bar.

The moment Bucky pulled you onto the dance floor it was like you were swallowed up by the bodies, but the people around you ceased to exist. His hands found your waist first, as he kept you close to him, making sure you were practically flush against him. His chest pressed against yours, while you found your rhythm, attempting to match the beat, the friction between your bodies growing with every movement you made, while your hands ran over his dress shirt. His warmth seeped into your skin, and you could feel his hot, uneven breath fanning across your collarbone. You felt his hand slide lower, resting on your hip, his fingers curling into the silk, holding onto it for dear life, as his vibranium hand traced up the length of your back, the cool temperature contrasting against the heat of your body. You looked up at him, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth, seeing the starvation behind his gaze, the kind that pinned you in place, made your pulse pound against your throat like a drum. He shook his head at you, leaning to the side.

”You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me.” He said against your ear, your stomach coiling, burning hot from the words he spoke. His lips ghosted over your jaw, not quite touching, just hovering, trying to tease you into making the first move. His breathing grew heavier the closer he got to your throat, when finally, he gave you a gentle kiss, as if he was seeing whether or not you were going to stop him. You tipped your head back, exposing more skin to him, silently giving him the invitation he needed to continue. His mouth opened against your skin, his teeth dragging over your pulse point, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue flicking out to taste the saltiness of your sweat.

“Fuck…” He rasped against your throat, bringing his vibranium hand down to press against the small of your back, to bring you even closer to him. You could feel every muscle in his body coiling so tight that he was practically shaking against you trying to keep his composure. His lips trailed up, going past your jaw, and ghosting over the corner of your mouth. Teasing. Testing. Waiting for you to make the first move and break, but you couldn’t…Not yet.

His lips hovered over yours, he was so close that every breath you took became his, the both of you panting. His nose brushed against yours, his lips parting to let out a shaky breath. Through the strobe lights you could see his pupils were blown wide, the adrenaline of the anticipation eating away at him minute by minute.

You let the moment stretch, as your hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingers, before curling them into the hair at the nape of his neck, your nails dragging lightly against his scalp, earning a small shudder from him. Finally, you brought him down towards you, crashing your lips against his.

The second your mouths met, it was like a dam broke, flooding the both of you with such desperation it almost choked you. Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, as his hands reached up to cradle your face, anchoring himself to you. His lips were searing, moving against yours like he had been starving for this. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, sucking it gently, willing your mouth to open for him, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You pulled on his hair, feeling one of his hands leaving your face to rest on your waist, as he pressed his hips forward into yours, a silent plea, and a wordless confession of how badly he wanted you. His lips broke away from yours, only to trail kisses down your jaw, his stubble scraping against your skin, creating a contrast to the softness of his lips as he bit, kissed, and licked a path down your throat.

“Bucky…” His name left your lips in a breathy moan, causing him to sink his teeth slightly into your skin, before sucking gently on it, hard enough that there would be evidence of his mark for the next few days. You pulled on his hair again, feeling his lips drag back up to reclaim yours in a kiss so deep that your chest was burning from the lack of air. His vibranium fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress, skinning the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He was seconds away from dragging you out from the dance floor, seconds away from losing control entirely….

And then you felt a new pair of hands on you, causing the both of you to pull away from one another in a frightened haste.

“Well, well,” A voice purred above the pulsing bass, “Please don’t stop on my account.” Timothy Orkolov said, a smile draped over his lips. His gaze flicked between the two of you, taking in your swollen lips, the way Bucky’s hands had now moved to be more in front of you, so you would be behind him. He chuckled at the sight, swirling his drink around in his glass.

“I must admit, I’ve always wanted to see if it was true that HYDRA soldiers could go all night in the bedroom.” He teased, watching Bucky’s fingers twitching against your waist.

”Careful,” He warned sharply. Orkolov held his hand up.

”Oh come on James. You and your lovely partner here come waltzing into my club, put on a little show, and then you expect me not to comment about it? Forgive me for being curious.” His gaze dragged over you, appraising, assessing, his eyes lingering briefly on the scar between your chest, his lips curling into a smirk, “It’s rare to see two super soldiers together in one room, let alone seeing them in love like this…It’s almost poetic.” Bucky exhaled through his nose.

”Do you have a point to make or are you here to run your mouth?” Orkolov took a lazy sip from his glass, before tilting his chin towards the velvet-curtained VIP section at the back of the club.

”Why don’t we have a chat in private? Clearly you two came for something, I’d hate to keep the anticipation building.” Bucky looked over at you, his eyes still glazed over from your heated interaction, giving a nod.

”Fine. Lead the way.” Orkolov gave a small toothy smile, as he motioned for you to follow him.

The VIP section was draped in velvet red walls, the seating areas had harsh lights above you, where you’d be able to see someone perfectly, but it made your eyes sting from the transition from the dark chasm of the club to this. Orkolov took the both of you to a more secluded area, attempting to find the most private area so you would all be able to hear each other. He gestured for the both of you to go inside first. The room was average, it had a bar, a table, some velvet seats that matched the aesthetic of the rest of the club, and of course it was accented with gold trim wherever it could be. Orkolov roamed over to the bar, humming softly, like he was just having a pleasant meeting between old friends.

”Whiskey? Vodka? Anything to drink for either of you?” He asked, motioning to the bottles of alcohol behind him. Neither of you answered, “Well, suit yourselves.” He added, refilling his glass with whiskey, taking a long sip before motioning to the seats.

”Please. Let’s sit.” You and Bucky hesitated, looking at each other, trying to see what the play was going to be, but you never went through the possibility of having a private meeting with Orkolov. So you took a seat first, watching as Bucky joined you, his body on high alert, sturdy and stiff beside you. Orkolov’s eyes swept over you, his gaze dragging down your body, drinking up the image in front of him, until they settled on the scar that disappeared beneath your neckline. He swirled his drink around in his glass, placing it down onto the table.

”You know,” He mused, “I’ve read so much about the experiments HYDRA did. The enhancements. The conditioning. But you…” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, “You’re a mystery to me.” You kept eye contact with him, not breaking, not looking away.

“It’s such a shame they never completed you…” Your pulse pounded in your ears, but you still refused to give him the reaction, “Because that would’ve never happened to you.” He pointed at the scar. You didn’t flinch, and you could see the joy in his face, as he wet his lips, turning his attention to Bucky.

”Tell me James…When you look at her do you see a failed mission? Or the woman you supposedly love? You ever get that itch in the back of your head when you’re laying in bed together at night to finish the job?” Bucky’s hands twitched against his thighs, his jaw locking so tightly that it looked like it was going to shatter. Orkolov sat back.

”I mean…It must be torture, having her so close all the time. Being reminded everyday that you failed your duties to HYDRA.” Bucky’s breath came out slow and measured, but you could feel the rage radiating off of him. You wanted to put your hand on his thigh, but you knew better than to do that at the moment, as he brought his attention to you.

”It must eat away at you sometimes hmm? That no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you may trust him, there will always be that part of him that was given the order to kill you…And that it lives inside him.” You swallowed.

”He wouldn’t do that.” You replied, trying to convince yourself that it was the truth. You wanted to believe it, but there was still the hesitation inside your chest. Orkolov exhaled, a sharp laugh escaping his lips.

”Let me give it to you straight…You can love a blade, you can hold it close, and call it yours, but at the end of the day…It’s always going to be forged to cut. Just like James over here, will always be The Winter Soldier. Plain, and simple.” He smirked, looking over at Bucky, seeing the way his eyes had darkened, “And what will you do…When he finally does what he was commanded to do? When that blade you’re sure of is yours turns in your hand and carves you up all over again?” The words barely had time to settle before your body reached.

Your fist cracked against Orkolov’s jaw, snapping his head to the side with a sickening force, knocking him out of his seat. Bucky didn’t flinch, he didn’t even move a muscle, no protests, no getting up to hold you back, he was blank, almost completely void of anything. The room rang with the sound of a tooth skidding across the floor, and him landing hard against the ground with a thud. For a second there was only silence, you couldn’t feel your hands, it was like you went numb, but you didn’t care. You stood up from your seat, going over to Orkolov who groaned loudly, turning himself over, pressing his hand against his bloodied mouth, a gap showing from where you had knocked his tooth out. He looked up at you, with satisfaction in his eyes, as he coughed, letting the little blood droplets huff out into the air.

“I knew you had it in you.” He sputtered out. You crouched down, wrapping your hand around his neck, pulling him up so he was eye to eye with you.

”If you keep talking I’m going to snap your fucking neck. You may think they never completed me, but I still have the same serum running through my veins, and it burns for the kill. Especially when people run their mouths.” He choked as your hand tightened around his throat, “Now. We came here for information, so keep your end of the bargain, or else I’ll knock the rest of your fucking teeth out of your face.” He wheezed loudly, coughing up blood, the droplets hitting your face, as he moved his head up and down. Your grip on his neck loosened, allowing him to take a breath.

”There’s…A shipment coming in, “ He started, turning his head to spit out some blood that flooded his mouth from where you had knocked out his tooth, “High level assets…The remaining soldiers from HYDRA.” Your hand tightened around his throat again.

”Don’t fucking lie to me.” You spat, feeling him squirm, his hand coming up to hold your wrist, his blood smearing on your skin.

”I’m…I’m not. There’s still…They still exist.” He squeaked out, “Just like you guys.”

”When is it arriving?” He coughed again, more blood splattering on you.

”T-Tomorrow, m-midnight. At the ports on the o-outskirts of the city.” Your grip loosed on his neck, feeling his fingers trembling against your wrists as he struggled to swallow. His jaw was starting to swell up and you could see a faint bruise beginning to form on the side where you had punched, but in his eyes, it still held amusement, that unsettling satisfaction that he had made you crack. It frightened you that you had let the rage come through you again, something that you had tried so hard to control. The serum had given you this innate bloodlust, and you had pushed it down for so long you thought it was gone, then this happened and it felt like you were back to square one. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, as you threw Orkolov back down onto the floor, releasing his neck and knocking the wind out of him in the process.

You turned your head towards Bucky, but he still hadn’t moved, it was like he wasn’t even breathing, his eyes staring off in the distance. You took a step towards him.

”Bucky?” Orkolov let out a hoarse chuckle.

”Look at him…Poor little James, trapped in that head of his. I must’ve gotten to him just like I got to you.” He commented. With your pulse still hammering in your ears, all you could feel was wrong, absolutely sick to your stomach, and you ignored what he had said. Not wanting to get sucked back into the violence that was wanting to come out again. You took another step towards Bucky, crouching down in front of him.

“Bucky…Hey.” Your voice was soft, trying to get his attention, his eyes glazed over, unfocused and locked elsewhere. He still hadn’t moved, nor breathed properly, and it was beginning to worry you. You reached out, your fingers grazing his knee.

”Bucky.” You tried again, making your voice firmer, hoping you could break through whatever fog he was trapped in. Slowly you moved just a bit closer, lifting your hand up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his stubble. His skin was burning hot, but there was no reaction to your cold hands pressing against him, no flicker of recognition in those ice blue eyes. This wasn’t shock or anger that was fueling him to be this way, it was as if he had completely shut down, turned himself off for the world like it was to save himself from doing something stupid.

“Come on…” You whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Orkolov groaned.

”You think you’re gonna miraculously pull him out of this? It’s not up to him anymore.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, watching as he attempted to sit up.

”If you move a single muscle, or say another word…I’m gonna break every bone in your body. Do you understand?” You growled, turning your attention back to Bucky, sliding your fingers down to hold his wrists.

”You’re okay…You’re safe Bucky…I’m safe. You’re in control, Bucky. I know you are.” You could feel your throat tightening, seeing the absence behind his eyes. Your hands squeezed his wrists gently, forcing your presence into him, into whatever place he went to so that he could avoid the pain.

“I need you to hear me,” You whispered, desperation bleeding through your voice now, “You’re not there anymore, you’re not him…You’re Bucky Barnes, now come back to me for the love of god!” Finally, Bucky flinched. It was barely a movement at all, but you felt it against your hands, the slight twitch of his fingers on your skin.

“Come on…” You coxed, tightening your hands on his wrists a little bit more. Your heart was pounding, watching the way his expression slowly shifted, like he was trying to break through, then suddenly you heard it.

”…Y/N?” Your breath caught for a moment, your hands immediately meeting his face against, trembling against his overheated skin.

”Yes, yes it’s me. You’re okay.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, watching as his eyes began to dart around the room, taking in the environment around him, before settling on you again, seeing your skin splattered with blood.

”Jesus Christ what the hell happened?!” His hands came up to hold onto your wrists, pulling them away from him, seeing one of your hands stained with blood as well, “Are you hurt?!”

“It’s not mine, I’m okay Bucky.” His eyes snapped over toward Orkolov, who was crumpled on the floor, smirking through the pain.

”Missed quite the show…She’s got a hell of a right hook. Guess HYDRA really did do something right with her.” He commented, spitting out more blood. He looked back at you, surprised.

”I got what we needed. We have to get out of here though. I will tell you everything when we get someplace safe, okay?” He nodded, slowly getting up from his seat.

”Running away already? And here I was thinking we would have more time together.” Orkolov said, trying to push himself up onto his hands. Bucky stepped past you, moving towards him slowly, before standing above him.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll meet again, and next time, I don’t think you’re going to be getting out alive.”

——————-

When you arrived back at the hotel you didn’t know whether or not you wanted to shower first or call Maria to convey all the information to her. At this point you felt like every bone in your body was on fire, edging with this adrenaline you hadn’t experienced since HYDRA gave you the serum. It was almost mind numbing at this point, and you couldn’t imagine if this was what Bucky would experience when he was The Winter Soldier.

You took your phone out of your purse, dialing the only number that was in it. Hill picked up after the second ring.

”Tell me you have something.” You reached up to rub your face, feeling the crusted blood peeling off.

”There’s a shipment coming in tomorrow at midnight at the ports in the outskirts of the city. Orkolov said there are going to be HYDRA soldiers in it. The remaining ones…” There was a pause.

“Are you sure?” She asked, as you kicked off your shoes, glancing over at Backy who was standing at the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“I’m positive. He was too scared to lie.” You commented, moving towards the bedroom, feeling Bucky’s eyes following, as you closed the door.

”That’s good. I’ll have a team en route to you guys by tomorrow evening.” Your grip tightened on the phone.

”Maria…I don’t think it’s a good idea that Bucky and I continue this mission. I don’t think it’s good if we come to the port for the shipment…Tonight wasn’t good for either of us, and with HYDRA being involved…I really don’t think we are in the right state to be there.” There was a long pause as you looked at your hand, seeing the dark crimson blood caked on it.

“You’re asking to pull out?” Her voice was even, but there was a hint of sharpness, maybe even disappointment in it. You pressed your fingers to your temple.

”We’re both compromised Maria…I almost killed Orkolov tonight…And Bucky basically dissociated because he got into his head. We can’t be there Maria…Please don’t send us there.” You begged, your voice cracking at the thought that you were both going to be faced with your past. Maria exhaled slowly.

”Okay…I’ll get you both out, but there is going to be a delay. Probably a day or two. Can you handle that?” You nodded.

”Yes, we can handle that, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Maria was quiet for a second.

”Just get some rest, and I’ll send you the information when everything is confirmed. Stay put and stay off the radar.”

“Understood.” Then she hung up without another word, leaving you in the silence of the bedroom. You dropped your phone onto the bed, before opening the door, seeing that Bucky was still at the counter, nursing his drink.

”Maria is going to pull us out.” You announced softly, coming out of the room. He looked over at you, his jaw tightening slightly.

”When?” You moved towards him.

”She said about a day or two, she’s going to text the information when she gets confirmation.” Bucky nodded, as he brought the glass of whiskey up to his lips, knocking back the rest of the drink in one go, putting it back down onto the counter.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, watching you closely, focusing on the little splatters of blood on your skin.

“Like I’m on fire…I haven’t had this much adrenaline going through me in a while.” You commented, moving closer to him, “How are you feeling?” He shook his head.

”Like my brain is swollen…I feel absolutely exhausted, all I want to do is shower, and try to sleep at this point.” You watched the tension in Bucky’s shoulders settle slightly, the adrenaline crash becoming inevitable.

“You can go first if you’d like. I can wait.” Bucky shook his head, a small laugh coming out of him.

”You should definitely go first…You’re the one that has the blood on you.” He pointed out, motioning to your face and body. In the light you saw the smudges on your arms from where Orkolov held, the remnants of the night clinging to you like a second skin.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You admitted, rubbing at your arms, as you turned on your heel, moving towards the bathroom, pausing for a moment just before you walked down the corridor, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you still. You glanced back at him.

“How about you come with me,” You murmured before you could think twice about it. His eyebrows raised, caught off guard by your offer, not sure if he was hearing you right.

”What did you just say?” He asked, his throat tightening on his words.

”Come with me,” You repeated, softer this time, tilting your head, “Unless you’d rather sit out here alone.” Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but the heat in his eyes told you he didn’t need any convincing. Wordlessly, he pushed himself off the counter and followed you down the corridor.

You turned on the bathroom light, motioning for Bucky to come in before closing the door behind you, turning to look at him. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets, looking down at you, letting his gaze run over the mess that you had become throughout the night. He sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his forehead.

”Should I turn on the hot water?” He asked, trying to break the silence up a little bit. You nodded, watching him slide open the glass door, and reach for the faucet, turning it counterclockwise. The sound of rushing water filled the space, steam already beginning to slowly rise, making the air in the room just a little bit heavier. He turned himself back towards you, glancing down at your dress briefly, as he brought his hands up to start working on the buttons of his dress shirt, the fabric parting inch by inch.

He was massive. Even after everything, even knowing the strength that came with the bulk of him, it still sent a shiver through you to really see him like this. The thick swell of his shoulders and arms, the defined cut of muscle beneath his skin, every inch of him carved from war and survival. His chest was wide, a few old scars slashing through the ridges of muscle, his vibranium arm gleaming under the bathroom light. His abs flexed with each breath, tight, strong, leading down to the deep v-cut at his hips. He pushed off the shirt completely, throwing it to the side, as he looked at you with anticipation burning behind his gleaming eyes. Slowly, you reached behind you, your fingers finding the zipper of your dress, bringing it down with an agonizing pace, feeling the fabric loosening around you. The dress slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You saw his fingers twitch at his side, as his gaze dragged over your body, trying to commit it all to memory. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, not out of embarrassment but from the weight of the way he was drinking in your body, the curvature of your breasts, the faint little scars that contrasted lightly against your skin, the way that your figure was just perfectly yours…It made his heart clench slightly, and suddenly he started to feel like he was overdressed.

His hands went to his belt buckle first, gently unlatching it, keeping his eyes on you as he did it. He slid the leather from the loops, dropping it to the tile with a clink. His fingers quickly returned to his pants to unbutton them, pushing the fabric off his hips and stepping out of it, leaving him in just his briefs. The both of you continued to look at each other, as you slowly closed the space, letting your nerves stir in your stomach.

You reached out, grazing the hard ridges of his stomach, barely touching, just lightly tracing the dense muscle there. You could feel him tense beneath your touch, his hand coming up to slide around your waist, bringing you just a little bit closer to him, the steam thickening around the room.

“…You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, bringing his vibranium hand up to trace down the jagged scar in the center of your chest, the coolness causing your skin to perk up against him, his touch didn’t linger there for long, as it moved off to your ribs, then up to the underside of your breast, cupping it gently, his thumb lightly brushing over your nipple, a soft gasp escaping your throat. A smirk tugged up onto his lips, leaning down so that his mouth was just above the mound of your breast, his hot breath clinging to your skin, savoring the moment before he finally took your nipple into his mouth. You gasped louder this time, your fingers pressing into the muscle of his torso, as his tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer to him, sucking gently, pulling his mouth off to blow against the wetness he had created.

”Jesus Bucky…” You moaned, as his mouth went to the opposite breast, wrapping around the perked nipple, nibbling slightly to elicit another gasp from you. Your fingers trailed down his abdomen, slipping under the waistband of his briefs for a moment, teasing him just like he was teasing you, as a groan radiated against your chest, and his fingers dug into your back. He took his mouth off your breast, trembling slightly, your hands trailing further beneath the waistband, his eyes looking up at you, seeing his pupils completely blown out from the tension, as you felt his erection against your palm. His lashes fluttered shut, and his cheeks turned a cherry red, tilting his head back as your hand wrapped around him, spreading his precum along his shaft as you began to slowly stroke.

“Oh fuck Y/N…” He gasped, bringing his hand to your chin, tilting your head up so he could crash his lips into yours. There was such a desperate intensity in the kiss, as he stole the air from your lungs, his tongue immediately tracing your bottom lip, begging for you to open for him, his hips rolling into your touch. You opened for him, feeling the hotness of his tongue against yours, as his hand slid off from your back, and slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, earning a moan from you, your legs parting slightly for him. You were already wet for him, as his fingers trailed over the slick arousal, teasing your dripping entrance before pushing two fingers in with ease. You almost screamed at the sensation that rocked through you, as his thick fingers stretched you out. He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his vibranium hand coming up to cup your face, as you started to stroke him faster, with him trying to catch up to your pace, his fingers curling inside you. You closed your eyes tightly, your mouth dropping open as you moaned.

“That’s it…” Bucky murmured, breathless, trying his best to remain dominant, his lips grazing your jaw, “Let me hear you.” He whispered, biting the skin just below your ear. You could feel your pace falter, getting distracted by your own pleasure, feeling this tension beginning to build in your stomach, coiling around every inch of your body, your hand tightening around him. He gasped, biting into the sensitive flesh of your neck, sucking gently on the mark to soothe the sting.

”If you keep doing that I’m not going to last.” He whispered, shuddering against you.

“Then we should…” You paused, feeling your legs shake beneath you from the pleasure that wrecked through your entire body, “We should move to the shower then.” You suggested, looking up at him, your eyes glazed over, just as lust filled as his. He nodded, slowly taking his fingers out of you, pushing your underwear down, with you doing the same to him. The undergarments pooled at both your feet as he wrapped an arm around your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, a surprised gasp leaving your lips, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he brought you to the shower.

The first thing you felt was the boiling water hitting your back, spreading down your skin as he pressed you slowly against the warm porcelain wall, reaching with one hand to close the shower door, the other one anchoring you against him.

His lips trailed down the column of your throat, peppering kisses along your collarbone. He was unrushed with his movements, savoring every inch he got to explore, as his hand caressed the curve of your hip. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with praise, almost like you were his religion, or the most sacred thing he had ever touched. His breath mixed with yours as he captured your mouth in another heated kiss, the both of you moaning in unison, your hands tangling into his damp hair. The taste of him made your head spin. The both of you felt as if you were drowning in each other, but neither of you came up for air, his hand coming up to hold the side of your face. He was the first to pull back, his lips brushing yours one more time before his thumb traced along your swollen bottom lip, as the steam curled around the both of you.

“Open,” He said softly. There was no dominance in his voice, it was just a quiet request, something that was optional, but you obeyed anyways, parting your lips for him. He held your jaw gently, as if afraid you’d pull away, but when you didn’t, he let the moment stretch, suspended in tension, in anticipation, before he let a delicate stream of saliva fall from his lips, into your mouth. The act felt like something sacred, something intimate, as his thumb brushed against your chin, his gaze never leaving yours, watching you swallow. The corner of his mouth quirked up, just barely, before he dipped his head, capturing your lips in another deep, slow kiss. His tongue traced your bottom lip, as if savoring the taste of you before he pulled back, his breath warm against your mouth.

“I need to taste you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his grip tightening around your thigh, guiding your leg off the side of his waist, helping you regain your balance. His eyes held yours for just a moment, a silent exchange of desire and want, before he leaned forward, kissing along your collarbone, licking the droplets that slid down your body, sucking gently on the skin right at the bottom of your neck. His hands settled on your hips, pressing his fingers into your damp skin, as he continued his journey, exploring every inch of skin he could reach, and you were at his mercy, not that you minded of course. When he got on his knees in front of you it nearly made you choke, his lips kissing along your hip bone, his hand sliding behind your thigh, squeezing it gently, coaxing you to open for him.

”You’re already shaking…” He commented, his lips finding their way to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin, wanting to mark you wherever he could so when he woke up in the morning he would know that this wasn’t just a dream. Your fingers threaded into his soaked hair, tugging just enough to cause shivers to rush down his body, silently pleading for him. His darkened eyes flickered up at you, his pupils completely blown out, not a speck of blue in sight, as he brought his lips up to your aching heat, placing a gentle kiss, before his tongue dragged along the entire area, your arousal coating his lips.

Your gasped echoed through the shower, feeling him press you against the wall so that you were secure with no possibility of falling, his mouth now completely consuming you whole. His tongue moved with such precision, tracing slow, sinful strokes along you, making sure he was paying attention to every spot that could earn him another moan, or hair pull from you. He groaned against you, his fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

”Fuck…Y/N. You’re so goddamn perfect. So warm…So fucking sweet.” He whispered, his tongue dragging through your slickness again, “You’re wrecking me…” The vibration of his voice against you made you press your nails into his scalp, shuddering above him.

”Bucky…” You whimpered, pressing him closer, feeling the wet heat of his mouth driving you closer and closer to the breaking point, your hips rolling against his mouth, feeling the heat in your stomach beginning to boil.

“You taste so fucking good…I want to stay here forever.” You moaned at his words, heat flaring through your body, the sound of his desperation causing your heart to flutter, his tongue flicking against your clit.

“You like hearing how much I need you?” Your head fell back against the tile, pulling on his hair again.

”Yes.” You gasped, the pressure inside you mounting in a quickening excess “God, Bucky I love it.” He growled, sending another rush of pleasure through your body, his fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

”You’re so wet for me…” He murmured, his breath hot against your core, “And I’m going to have every single drop.” One hand slipped from behind your thigh, reaching up to hold your breast, palming it gently, as he slipped his tongue inside you, moving it slowly. You felt like you were on the brink of collapse, all the sensations invading your entire body. He groaned, feeling you push against his mouth, his grip on your breast tightening just a little bit, as his thumb ran over your nipple. You unraveled one of your hands from his hair, bringing it up to hold the back of his.

“Bucky I’m…” You couldn’t manage to get your sentence out as you trembled against him, your breath hitching in your throat.

”I know…You going to come for me sweetheart?” He asked, his mouth now focusing directly on your clit, finding a pace that was so fast you could barely compose yourself before the pressure snapped inside you, your grip on his hand tightening, your nails digging into the skin as you cried out, the overstimulation ceasing your heart. Bucky wasn’t lying when he said he was going to have every single drop, his mouth moved against you like he was starved for it. Your body was trembling beneath him, as he pulled away slowly, looking up at you; his eyes wild…Worshipful even. You collapsed against the wall gasping for air, your eyes roaming over his face. His lips were swollen, covered in your arousal, his hair a mess from where you had pulled on it. He smiled at you, letting out a giddy laugh as he kissed the inside of your thigh, before bringing his forehead to your stomach, his hot breath cooling the droplets against your skin.

”Jesus Christ…” He muttered, half in disbelief, half in complete adoration, as he pressed kisses against every inch of skin he could reach, “You’re still shaking.” He commented, looking up again.

“You absolutely wrecked me.” You replied, your hands reaching down to cup his face, your thumbs running along his cheekbones as he leaned into your touch.

“Mission accomplished.” He joked, feeling your hands guiding him up so he could stand again. He raised from his kneeled position, his hands roaming your body, as he pulled you against him, so you could feel how hard he was for you.

“Bucky…I really need you right now.” You confessed, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. He pulled back for a moment.

”Are you sure?” You nodded instantly, feeling his hands behind your thighs grip, and then effortlessly lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tiled wall. His arms cradled your body like you were the most precious thing he had ever touched, and that wasn’t far off from the truth.

“I need to hear you say-.” You grabbed his face, forcing him to look in your eyes completely.

”I need you Bucky…Please.” That was all he needed to hear, as his hand left the small of your back, lining himself up with your entrance, your gaze falling on his reaction as he slowly pushed himself into you, his jaw slacking open at the warmth, his eyelids fluttering closed. He leaned forward, placing a kiss against your neck, continuing to push, the both of you savoring the sensation of going slow, taking in the feeling of being stretched.

“H-Holy fuck…” He let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head, “It’s like heaven.” He whispers, looking up at you with his pupils blown out, amazed by the sensation of you fluttering around him, his fingertips digging into your hip as he continued to push forward until he bottomed out in you, a satisfied sigh escaping into the air.

”You feel so good…I just wanna stay inside you like this.” His words sent a shiver up your spine, your nails lightly scraping against the broad muscles of his shoulders. His body was a furnace against yours, and the hot water that cascaded above the both of you made everything feel like it was on fire. His vibranium hand moved up your side, his thumb brushing over your ribcage, then moving up to cup your breast. His lips found their way to the curve of your jaw, brushing over your skin, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses wherever he could. He slowly pulled out just a little before rocking back into you, slowly picking up the pace, keeping his eyes locked onto yours, trying his best to keep the unhurried rhythm he had found. With every thrust it was like he pushed deeper, making sure you could feel every inch of him, your nails digging into his back, dragging down.

“Bucky, you feel so fucking good. “ You moaned, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his as he continued to roll his hips up into you, adjusting the angle a bit so that his cock was dragging across your g-spot, a mangled gasp coming out of your throat at the mind-numbing sensation that shot through you. Bucky felt everything, the way your body clenched around him, the heat of your ragged breath against his lips, the way your nails dug into his shoulders just a little more, and the way you closed your eyes tightly trying to focus on not getting overwhelmed with how he was making you feel.

“You like when I fuck you like this?” He asked, rutting back up into you with just a little more force than before.

”Yes!” You practically yelled, as one of your hands came off his shoulder and tangled it into his hair, “Don’t stop Bucky, please don’t fucking stop.” You begged, desperate for the snapping of his hips against yours to continue. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, pulling back.

”I wouldn’t think of it sweetheart.” He said, a dazed smile appearing on his puffy lips, glancing down at the way he was sliding in and out of you so perfectly, before returning his gaze back up to yours, “You’re so wet for me Y/N, I can’t believe how fucking good it feels…I think I’m gonna want you like this everyday now.” There was such need and longing in his voice that you felt yourself melting against him.

”Bucky, I…I fucking want it all. I want you to ruin me. Take me as your own. Please.”You cried out, as he thrusted hard at the words that fell from your mouth, the tip of his cock grazing your cervix.

“I can do that.” He whispered, his lips finding your neck, pressing you against the wall just a little more as he picked up his pace, kissing along your pulse, letting his teeth graze your skin before sinking in just enough to cause a jolt to shoot through you. You tilted your head back, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bathroom as he grunted against your neck, his hand grabbing tightly on your thigh.

“God you’re making me lose my mind.” He moaned, breathless from the fast pace he was thrusting into you with, the coil in your stomach tightening, twisting, and burning with a fury of a thousand suns.

”I’m going to come again B-Bucky.” You could barely string that simple sentence together as your body arched into his.

”I know. I’m gonna ruin you just like you asked.” He whispered, his lips finding yours, as the both of you opened your mouths, his tongue teasing yours, his hips rolling at just the right angle so he could drag another moan out of you.

“Bucky…” His name left your lips like a prayer, your back slipping up the wall with each harsh thrust. There was no rhythm at this point, it was just mindless, and all consumed.

“I’ve got you baby. Be a good girl…Come for me.” It only took another deep, perfectly angled thrust before you shattered around him, your body clenching, trembling, lost in wave after wave of pleasure, your walls clenching tightly. Bucky followed right after, his unstable rhythm breaking as he groaned against your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he let go, his grip on you digging into the sensitive flesh of your hips as he buried himself as deep as he could, filling you up with ropes of cum.

The only sounds left were ragged breaths between you, the hot shower water still falling over the both of you. Bucky didn’t move right away, he slowly took his teeth off your shoulder, observing the dark red marks that he had left, a satisfied smile pulling up on his lips, peppering soft, gentle kisses along the damage. You sighed as he leaned back just enough to look at you, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

”You’re so fucking incredible.” He whispered, pecking your lips. You smiled at him, your fingers brushing over his shoulders, feeling his arms tightening around you.

“We should wash off…Then give the bed a test drive.” You suggested. He laughed.

”Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Part 2 for poison??? Where he goes back to reader for another hook up but this time he needs to be close to her. Like legs wrapped around him and her hands in his hair while he practically latches himself onto you. Smut smut smut. He secretly really likes her but doesn’t want anyone to know yk keeping up with his asshole facade

antidote (poison pt2)

Plot: last time should have been the last time, just like he said. But when he comes crawling back, needier than ever you can’t help but come back pt.1

Pairings: asshole!Wally Clark x loner!fem!reader, alive!wally x alive!reader

warning(s): the obvious SMUT!, fluffy end, wally actually ends up being nice and in love? Characters are 18!!! Unprotected sex (WRAP IT), public sex!! Creampie!! Fucking POORLY written. NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: HI GUYS. okay so ik its been a minute 💀 im sorry i usually pump these out and get serious writers block but im TRYING. okay i also know you said to keep him an asshole but i NEEDED fluff!! Enjoy!

Finding yourself at the schools Friday night football game was NOT on your agenda, but you couldn’t help it. You felt drawn in and one of your newer friends BEGGED you to go with her so you did, reluctantly. The stands were PACKED with parents, siblings and other family members along with almost ALL of your classmates. Had football really been THIS popular?

you gave a low groan as you ducked and weaved through the crowd, trying not to get hit or bumped into. It wasn’t working out very well. Small sorry’s left your mouth as you finally wormed your way into your seat next to Julie, who was already teeming with energy.

“ i’m so excited. Monrovia has ALWAYS been a tougher team to beat, hopefully this year with Wally we can beat them. ”

At the mention of his name you tensed, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in what seemed like months (more so a week or two). A part of you, deep down ached for him, while the other part tried to keep you reasoned that he was the one that ended everything, he wanted nothing to do with you. And yet…somehow it felt like he still wanted you. None of the athletics (cheerleaders and football players) even stopped to say anything to you, or tease you about something so small. They just went on their merry way. Had he said something to them?

“ uh hello? Did you hear me? Wally’s looking at you! "

a small shake to your shoulders finally snapped you from your thoughts as your eyes moved to finally make eye contact with said football player. He was finally on the field after their introduction and was staring right at you from his huddle with his team. Once the both of you made eye contact he quickly looked away and popped his helmet on.

you shook your head, blinking yourself back to reality. What was his deal? The buzzers from the score board sounded, commencing the start of the first quarter of the game. The crowd around you buzzed to life in cheers as the boys got into formation after the coin toss, cementing that Monrovia would be starting with the ball. The first kick off was a strong one, sending the ball soaring to the back of the split river formation.

and like that the game set off into a very close, neck to neck game. One team would score and then the other would quickly swoop in and tie with their own touchdown. Everyone around you was on edge, Julie was screaming chants with the student section, making fun of the team and the other student section. You just sat quiet and cheered quietly when your team would score, trying not to burn in embarrassment. But slowly got into the energy of it all, starting to cheer in the last quarter of the game.

within the last few seconds of the game you shot up from your seat, cupping your hands around your mouth as you shouted.

“ GET THAT BALL TO THE END ZONE, WALLY! ”

His attention turned to you for only a second before something inside him amped up, making him sprint and dodge around the other team a bit faster. within the last second his feet finally landed in the end zone, signifying that they had scored the winning points and FINALLY got their hands on the win over Monrovia after years of losing. Loud screams and cheers erupted from the stands around you, the band immediately kicked in with their anthem as the team on the field flocked the quarter back in the end zone.

loud whoops and chants sounded from the boys as they hopped and shook with Wally in their arms, the other team standing dejectedly to the side, feeling the stab of loss from years of winning. You cheered loudly with your classmates, laughing happily as your friend latched onto you.

“ its like he HEARD you! You’re a fucking lucky charm! ”

she squealed happily and shook you, excitement bubbling from her as she darted off to some of her other friends to talk to them. Your attention finally turned back to the football team, seeing the ever happy Wally grinning and congratulating his teammates. His eyes then turned to you, a smirk playing at his lips as he sent you a wink. Butterflies seemed to spring from nowhere in your stomach at the motion, turning to look and see if he was sending it to anyone else, but no one else was paying any attention to the team. You looked back at him again and watched him mouth “stay after”, seeming to mean after the stadium cleared out.

After about an hour of waiting, almost everyone was cleared out of the stadium, lights beginning to shut off. You slowly started to lose hope he’d actually come talk to you, or even if he was still there. You carefully tossed your hood up as it started to drizzle, then pour. You sighed and turned, starting to walk toward the gates when a loud whistle echoed from the dressing rooms. Your head snapped to the source, seeing Wally walk out of the building. He was in his after game attire, hair in messy curls atop his head from the sweat and rain finally hitting his head.

you paused and crossed your arms, trying to keep up your “i hate you” mindset. But seeing him there after weeks made your knees feel like jello. What the fuck was going on in your head?! You tilted your head and watched as he got closer, making you step back

“ didn’t think you’d come to a game. But then i saw you in the stands, dressed in the schools colors with MY number of all numbers painted on your cheek. ”

you scoffed as he finally stopped before you, rolling your eyes as you looked away from him. She painted his number on your cheek? Did she know about you two hooking up or was this one of her dumb “he’s cute” things.

“ yeah, i didn’t paint this on, Julie did. Like hell id risk getting made fun of just to wear your number, Clark. "

He hissed in fake pain as you snapped at him, scrunching his face a bit to add to it. He chuckled and without a word tugged you close but your waist. You gasped in surprise as your chest collided with his, feeling the clothing start to get soaked from the heavy rain. What the hell was he doing?

“ you should wear it more often. Fuck all the time actually. Look..i was a fucking dumbass for pushing you away. Not being able to be near you drove me mad and made me realize some shit that i didn’t want to face. ”

your eyes widened as you realized he was about to confess his feelings. Were you even ready for that? Before he could even say another word you pushed yourself up and kissed him roughly, cupping the back of his head as you tried to keep him from saying anything. A small grunt sounded from the other as he immediately held onto your waist, keeping you close to his body.

the kiss started heated and just continued to stay that way, tongues meshing together in the middle as hands wondered each others bodys. And with hands wandering, came clothes starting to be removed. Were you about to fuck on the football field? You couldn’t really care less, you just needed him now. Moving yourself down onto the soaking grass, you felt him moved between your legs and carefully slip a hand between the two of you.

a small gasp leaves your mouth as he rubs at your clit for a moment, letting you get adjusted and wet enough for him to slip his fingers into your soaking center. Your eyes rolled back a bit from the stretch of his long fingers. Thank fuck for this lanky man, being blessed EVERYWHERE. small moans slipped from your lips as he pumped and curled his fingers in and out of you. Getting you nice and stretched was something he’s never done so it was a nice little change, it made your heart flutter in an odd way?

after a few minutes of prepping you he pulled his fingers out and used whatever wetness he had to lube himself just enough to carefully slip into your awaiting cunt, his eyes rolling back at the hug of your walls. Another gasp came from your throat as he slid inside of you, your hands clambering to grip onto his back to have some sort of tether to earth. He grunted and held still for a second, kissing along your neck and throat, arms winding around your middle to keep you close to him.

As much as your mind was SCREAMING at you to get the hell off the ground, you felt like you were in heaven. Especially when he started to finally fuck his cock in and out of your hot cunt. Moans and groans intertwined from the two of you as you fucked on the football field, rain poured around the two of you, drowning out your sounds so only the two of you could hear. You made an attempt to open your eyes, only to be met with Wally already looking at you. You whimpered softly and drew your eyebrows together, keeping eye contact as you moaned louder. Watching his face morph with pleasure at your sounds, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.

He carefully reached between the two of you, rubbing at your clit as he continued to pound into you. The knot in your stomach starting to tighten, feeling it start to verge on snapping. Your eyes rolled back a bit as it all began to be too much for you to even handle.

“ thats it baby, cum for me. Fuck, please cum. ”

he groaned out and placed his forehead to yours, feeling himself near his end as well. With a few final snaps into you, he was releasing everything he had into your awaiting cunt. And once you felt his load fill you, you threw your head back into the ground and cried out as you came not to far behind him. He kept his hips rocking, just to ride out your highs before slowly pulling out of you. He pushed himself up a bit and panted, looking at the absolute mess you were below him making him give a breathy chuckle.

“ we should probably hit the showers, babe. Were an absolute mess. ”

you slowly nodded your head, the after sex high still buzzing in your brain. You let him do what he needed, meaning letting him carry your naked form into the locker rooms to wash the both of you off. It was absolute silence as you stood under the water, somehow more awkward than the times before. Was it because of what he was going to say?

after washing off, you held the towel you were offered tight to your body. Finally registering that your clothes were out on the field still, ruined by the rain and the mud. But it was like Wally read your mind, carefully pulling out some extra clothes he had stuff away in his locker. You tugged on the sweat pants and the hoodie he offered you, humming softly at the warmth of them. He tugged on his own pair of sweats and a tank top, slowly turning to you as he shrugged on his letterman.

“ look…i..fuck. Okay so..i really like you. And i know saying that doesn’t really make up for how i treated you, but it just happened. I realized it when we fucked in the supply closet. And i understand if you don’t feel the same, i just really wanted to tell you. ”

you threw your hand up and covered his mouth to keep him from sputtering on anymore than he was, watching his cheeks and ears go red from embarrassment. You gave a soft giggle as you stared up at him, tilting your head a bit.

“ i like you too dumbass. As much as i hate that i fell for you, i did. ”

he visibly relaxed and moved your hand, tugging you closer as he carefully kissed you. This time keeping it gentle, full of passion. You could really get used to this sweet side Wally had hid away.

Filthy

Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

See my Masterlist Here

"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.

You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.

That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.

You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.

Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.

The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.

One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.

He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.

You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."

Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"

Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.

You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.

"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.

Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.

He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.

He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.

You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.

"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.

"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.

His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.

His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.

You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.

He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.

He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.

He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.

His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.

His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.

His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.

He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.

He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.

His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.

You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.

You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.

Tags in the comments! ❤️

Pesky Feelings: Part 2 - Earth-2 Harrison Wells x Fem!Reader SMUT

Note: This is feeling a bit scattered and OOC to me, but I’ve been writing on and off in between a big move and I’d like to get it out there. (Besides, another Harry Wells smut may be coming to make up for any strangeness in this one!)

Synopsis: After Jesse is rescued, a knock on your door proves to be a pleasant surprise.

Warnings: NSFW.  Coworkers-to-Lovers. Smut with Feelings. Riding. Dirty Talk. Unprotected Sex.

Keep reading

So Wrong, It’s Right

Request: Ooo how about a Harry Wells rough smut????? ;)

A/N: This turned into a daddy kink with some jealous Harry. Hope you liked it!

Harrison Wells was going to Hell, of that he had been fairly certain of for quite some time. It was something that he knew for quite a few years now, but never so surely as he did in that moment. He knew that he shouldn’t, that he was dabbling into things better left alone, but something about you just….drew him in. He wasn’t the emotional type, wasn’t one to easily form attachments. In fact, Harry made it a point to push everyone away, so why you, of all people, got under his skin, he never really could explain.

Knowing that you were the forbidden fruit, maybe, tempted him. You were young, much to young to be with someone like him, or so he often told himself in the wee hours of the morning when he’d gaze at your sleeping face, but you were always so adamant about being ‘a grown ass woman.’ Those were your words not his, and to be fair, you did have a point.

You were twenty-six, far old enough to make your own decisions, but Harry still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong. it didn’t help that it was a secret. Of course it was a secret. He was damn near twenty years older than you - eighteen to be exact. You loved to remind him of that as well, though the ease that it gave was short-lived. He didn’t want the others to know, to look at you differently….to look at him differently. It was a selfish desire but he couldn’t help it. Harrison Wells could be an, admittedly, selfish man.

You hated secrets. Hated keeping them even more, but Harrison Wells was a notoriously stubborn man and changing his mind was something you were sure God couldn’t even do. Sighing you glanced over your outfit for the day, head tilting as you let your gaze wander over yourself. Lips tugged into a smirk as you straightened, turning to check the back. If he wasn’t going to tell, fine, but you were going to make his life a living hell in the meantime.

Waltzing into the Cortex, your hips swayed, practically hearing the jaws drop on your way in. It was the reaction you knew you were going to get, doing your best not to smirk.

“Damn mami! Look at you!” Cisco complimented, slack jaw turning into a grin as he caught your eye. He stuck his thumbs up as your laugh filled the room. Winking at your long time friend you thanked him with a smile.

“Wow…you look……wow,” Barry fumbled, unable to properly form words as his gaze raked over your outfit. His eyes kept moving, flicking between your body and your eyes, doing his best not to stare. A quick elbow to the ribs from Iris had him quickly averting his gaze.

“What’s with the outfit?” the journalist asked, eyes looking you up and down curiously. You were always the more fashionable of the group, but this was…a bit much. You could admit it was though, the lace bustier with flowing high waisted shorts left little to the imagination and the heels that made your legs look like they went for miles certainly…..added to the appeal.

“Felt like dressing up,” you shrugged, dogging the truth easily. “I’m counting one less genius than usual,” you hummed, eyes shifting as you searched for your target.

“Oh? You mean the grouch?” Cisco scoffed as he came up beside you, arm tossing over your shoulder. “Where else would he be?” he mused, eyes unable to help themselves as they scanned you from top to bottom.

“Ramon!” the sharp gravel tone had everyone jumping to attention as they turned towards the entrance. “Where’s that tech I told you to work on?” Harry quipped, pacing into the Cortex with a frown etched into his features.

“Oh uh…yeah, tech…totally. Yup, definitely did that,” the boy fumbled, quickly removing his arm from your shoulders as he scrambled back to his desk.

You turned slowly, a hand coming to your hip as you cocked it, eyes lifting to Harry as you watched the way he glanced at you only to whip his head back to you. It took everything in your entire being not to laugh at the way his eyes nearly bugged out of his head before composing himself. Oh, playing hard to get was he? You could play that game.

“Hi Harry,” You cooed, watching the way he gave you a curt nod before looking away. The struggle not to look at you was visible to you and you reveled in it. Humming softly, you turned to Cisco, hips swaying as you moved. Several pairs of eyes followed your movement, watching as you placed your hands on Cisco’s desk, leaning over, shorts clinging to your round hips as you bent.

Harry’s teeth dug into his bottom lip as he watched your clothes ride up and cling just shy of giving him a view of what he wanted. He knew you were doing this on purpose, that you were testing him. His heart pounded hard in his chest as heat quickly flooded south. He wanted nothing more that to press you flat against that desk, to have your back arch and your a-…..NO. No, he couldn’t do this here.

Tearing his gaze away, Harry glanced about the too, hoping he wasn’t caught blatantly ogling you. He wouldn’t have to worry about that though, nearly everyone in the Cortex doing the very same. The heat that had once tightened in his groin now boiled beneath his skin as he watched the way Barry’s eyes followed your every movement and Cisco was certainly not looking at your eyes as you spoke. Jaw tight, Harry squeezed the marker in his hand. “Ramon! Today!”

This was going to be along day…

And long day it was. Did you know how it killed him to listen to them? To see them practically screwing you with their eyes. The only solace Harry had was knowing that only he would ever be able to touch you in the way they were very clearly dreaming of. Still, that didn’t quell his rising anger and thinning patience. He knew you were egging him on, that you were purposefully flaunting your body around just to get under his skin. Harry didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of winning, but as he heard Cisco flirt for the upteenth time and you giggle at the man’s pitiful humor, Harry thought he was going to lose it.

His movements were sharp as he glared at his equation on the clear board, writing and rewriting as he tried to keep distracted. It was not working – to put it lightly, but the straw that broke the camel’s back was the loud smack that ran through the cortex followed by your yelp of surprise. The voice that followed had Harry seeing red.

“Damn girl! You fine!” Ralph’s voice filled the room, arm slinking back to his side from where he stood several feet away. “Name’s Ralph. New around here, but I gotta say, I like what I see,” he purred in what he believed to be a seductive tone.

Whipping around, Harry was ready to murder. “Out!” He snapped, point to the door. “Now!”

“Aw man, c’mon,” Ralph drawled, chuckling. Reading the room certainly hadn’t been taught to him as a child.

“If you value your ability to have children in the near future, I suggest you leave,” Harry growled out and, judging by the look on the brunette’s face, Ralph got the message loud and clear. Everyone grabbed their things in a flurry of movement, shuffling out of the room – you included.

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, a firm grip on your arm halting you in your steps. Several pitiful glances washed over you, but the glare in those pretty blues had them rushing out. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline leaving a soft tingle along your flesh. You were getting the reaction you wanted, hopefully the cookie would continue to crumble in your favor.

“I know what you’re doing,” Harry growled in your ear, a shiver racing down your spine.

“Oh? And what would that be?” you spoke with an innocent flutter of your lashes.

“Don’t you dare,” He growled, shoving you back against a nearby desk. Hands gripped your hips and tugged you close, eyes free to rake over your body now. “Wearing this, letting them eye fuck you all day,” he hissed, anger growing as he replayed their looks in his mind.

Smirking you looked up at the scientist through thick lashes. “Yeah? What you gonna do about it….daddy?” you purred. Harry’s eyes dilated at the name and in a swift movement he slammed you face first into the desk. The sound of ripped fabric had you objecting only for a hard smack stealing your breath away.

“..H-Harry,” you gasped, jolting at the second smack that reddened your cheeks. They were sharp and painful, yet the heat was undeniable as it pooled in your center.

“That’s not my name,” he grunted, another smack raining down onto your backside. The moan that whimpered past your sweet lips was music to his ears, heart beat pounding in his chest. All he was was you, all he felt was you, and he was going to make damn sure you felt him.

Your knees were weak, lips parted with hard gasps and cheeks red by the time you were flipped, a hard kiss stealing your breath away. You gave in easily, arms linking around Harry’s neck as his tongue forced it’s way into your mouth. He tasted every inch of you as hands scoured your body. Fingers dipped into the cups of your top, tugging down with no concern for the shreds of fabric he left in his wake. Lips parted with a wet smack only for his mouth to wrap around a pert nipple, the moan that tore from your throat striking him right in his core.

Fingers dove into Harry’s wild hair, back arching high as he sucked harshly. He knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild. “Fuck….Harry,” you groaned. Almost immediately he popped free, dragging you down the desk as his hand caught your throat.

“That’s. Not. My. Name,” Harry hissed against your lips, eyes low. “Say it right,” He grunted, hand gripping your jaw now as he forced your eyes to gaze into his. “Say it.”

“….Harry,” you smirked, reveling in the way he growled and shoved your head back. His hands fumbled as he tugged his belt off and shoved his jeans down. There was no care in the way he flipped you, dragging you back to his hips as he folded over your back.

“You have one more chance, doll,” he whispered low in your ear. It was your last chance for redemption. A chance you weren’t going to take.

“Or what….Harry?” you gasped, chest heaving as you gulped down much needed air. The growl in your ear sent pleasure straight to your core.

“Just know…this is your fault,” he warned, cock pressing into your wet folds. In one hard thrust he was hilt deep, the scream of pleasure igniting a fire inside of him. You were tight and wet and….god he loved being inside of you. Hissing softly, Harry dragged his hips back before snapping his hips forwards. There was no time to adjust as he set a relentless pace. Your moans echoed around the empty Cortex, hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly they were turning white.

“What’s….uhn…my name?” Harry grunted, head lifting to gaze down at where the two of you connected, watching himself disappear into your tight heat.

“Oh god….” you gasped, eyes fluttering as each thrust bounced you against the desk. It was hard to think, let alone speak, but you weren’t going to give Harry what he wanted. At least not yet. “H…..Harry,” you spoke with a soft gasp, knees weak as he growled. Fingers dove into your hair, wrapping around the strands as he tugged hard. Your back arched high, Harry’s free hand slamming down against your ass.

“Fuck daddy!” you cried out, knees buckling. Harry smirked behind you, repeating the action and reveling in the moans that filtered from your lips. They were so sinfully sweet. He couldn’t get enough.

“Say it again,” He rasped in your ear, his breathlessness making you whimper. He was so deliciously rough when he was riled up.

“…Yes daddy,” you whined, yelping at the sudden hard thrust. God it felt so good. So so good.

“You’re mine and no one else’s,” Harry huffed, hand releasing your hair. Arms wrapped around your middle as you felt his face tuck into the curve of your neck.

“Yours,” you mumbled incoherently as he thrust hard and fast. One arm braced you against the table, the other reaching back to comb through Harry’s hair, mewling as he hit a particularly sensitive place. “Daddy~!” you whined, hips pressing back to meet each thrust. “Right there,” You gasped.

“Okay baby,” Harry breathed, hand sliding down your curves to your hip to keep that angle. Your cries grew in volume as he abused that sensitive spot and soon you couldn’t hold back. “Daddy…..oh god….Daddy! Daddy I’m…oh!…oh god!….oh…fuck!…fuck!…..Daddy!” Head tossing back, your grip on Harry’s hair tightened as your walls clenched hard around his cock. Your orgasm crashed into you in waves, entire body trembling as you mewled Harry’s name.

His orgasm was right behind yours, cock twitching with each thick rope he coated your walls with. Hard thrusts slowed to a halt as the two of you slumped against the desk. Silence encompassed your tired forms as your hearts settled and breathing regulated.

“Babe?” you hummed, turning in what small space you were allowed.

“Mmm?” Harry mumbled, face still tucked (happily) in the curve of your neck.

“…..Can I borrow some clothes?” you asked softly, voice unable to breach a whisper.

“Oh now you want to be covered?” Harry quipped, peeking at you with a smirk in his eyes.

“Harry…” you whined, only to feel his chuckle rumbled against your back.

“From now on, that outfit is only for me to see,” he grumbled, partially serious as lips met in a gentle kiss.

“Yes Daddy,” you muttered softly, giggling at the way his eyes dilated at the name.

Yeah, Harrison Wells was going to hell….but at least he had you until then.

Throw Me Instead - Earth-2 Harrison Wells x Fem!Reader SMUT

Oops here comes another one, I have a thing for the Earth-2 DILF who would’ve guessed?  Happy 2022 all, and sorry if you’re waiting on an Arcane fic, this one was sitting half-finished in my drafts since early November.

Word Count: 3000+

Synopsis: It wasn’t uncommon for you to tease. It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to rage. One day, however, the combination of your two personalities clashed.

Warnings: NSFW, Lab Sex, Wall Sex, Desk Sex, Light Exhibitionism, Angry Sex, Possessiveness, Choking, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Use of Sir/Princess

Keep reading

BBY YES. I’m a curvy girl too and MY GAWD boxer daddy dom losing a match or having a rough match and taking it out on the reader is just *chefs kiss* boxer Steve has NO issue lifting us plus size girlies and taking us against a wall 🤤 I just love your writing and I think you doing boxer Steve would be AMAZING

In Your Corner (Boxer Steve X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: Boxer Steve invaded my dreams and now consumes my waking life. Fuck I need him. Lol.

I hope I did your ask justice!

Warnings: Daddy Dom Boxer Steve and Plus Size Sub Reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!), SMUT and angst, hella dirty talk, degradation (slightly), spanking, choking, pinching, rough play for sure, there's no details of the fight but there are mentions of the aftermath, slight bullying at the beginning with Steve's friends. I think that's it.

Word Count: 4449

Steve’s eyes focused on his coach in front of him as he danced around the man preparing to swing. You absolutely loved watching him train right before a fight. He was always dedicated to the craft but he became more determined right before and the passion drove you wild. 

When you both attended high school together, he always seemed like a douchebag with his “King Steve” status. You ran in a different circle, which was mostly any circle that wasn’t the popular kids. They always found ways of making fun of you because you had a little more meat on your bones than they did. You did take note at the time that Steve never taunted you with them but he never stopped them either. 

“Fuck off, Steve Harrington.”

“Hey, would you just relax?! I just wanted to come apologize for Tommy and them. You’re not a pig and you’re definitely not ugly.”

“Wow, thanks for that. Now I can die happy. If you will excuse me, I have to go find my journal and put our initials together in hearts.”

As you turned to walk away, his hand shot out to grip your arm, tugging you back towards the concrete wall. 

“Would you wait a minute! I’m…I’m trying to tell you something here. I…I’m not like them. I want to get to know you better.”

Your sarcastic laugh lights a fire in his eyes that you would later come to fall in love with. 

“Steven, whether you like it or not, you are exactly like them. You laugh along with them and don’t stop them from being mean to people. You hang out with them and give them your time like they matter. I imagine your dad is the same with colleagues; pretending that he cares about stupid, menial bullshit just to fit in.”

His head ticked to the side at your comparison to his father as you stepped closer to his towering frame. 

“You want to get to know me better? Become a real man and stand up for yourself. BE yourself.”

After that moment, he completely changed, disconnecting from his friends, and focusing on other things. You found him in the library a few times scanning certain books or at the computer looking up videos. After graduation, he disappeared before finally resurfacing a year later at a party one of your old high school friends was hosting. 

At the time, you had a date on your arm but as soon as Steve entered the room it was like no one was there except for you and him. His smile was brighter and he had a lot more muscle than you remember him having especially in his arms. When his beautiful brown irises met yours, you knew it was all over. You’d do anything for him, all he had to do was ask. You tried playing coy, you really did; smirking salaciously in his direction or crossing and uncrossing your legs a bit wider than normal to display the red silk panties underneath. 

When all he would do in return is tilt his head and grin at you, it riled you up, huffing as you stomped away to the bathroom. Before you could do anything about it, Steve followed you in, attaching his lips to yours as he quite literally ripped your panties of your body. You marveled at his strength as he lifted you onto the bathroom counter and sunk his admittedly large cock into your cunt. 

“Oh my god, Steve. So—f-fuck—so deep.”

“Fuck, baby. Your pussy is just making a mess, you’re so wet.” He grabbed your hair and forced you look between your bodies. “Look at how you just fucking coat my dick.” Once he felt like you had gotten a good enough look, he pressed your face into his shoulder as he thrust his hips faster into yours. “That’s right, honey. Fucking—mmm—fucking hold on to Daddy while I make you cum.”

Your pussy clenched tighter around him at the name and he grunted at the feeling. 

“Yeah? You like that, pretty girl? God, you feel so fucking good. Cum on Daddy’s cock, Y/N.”

Your nails dug into the shirt on his back as the coil snapped and you whimpered into his chest. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Such a good girl coming hard like that.”, he murmured. One of his palms landed flat beside you as the other clung to your lower back as rolled his hips. “Fuck—I’m gonna cum inside you.”

Steve wasn’t asking; he was telling you what he was about to do and at that moment you really didn’t care. The hand on the counter flew up to grip your throat, pushing you back against the mirror as he roughly pumped his seed into your body.

When he released you from his hold and helped clean you up, you half expected him to leave you there alone in the bathroom, walking back out into the party as a satisfied man. Instead, he took your hand and guided you towards his BMW offering to buy you dinner. 

That night he told you where he had been and what he had been up to. Steve left Hawkins to train and study boxing. You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing this was the same kid who lost almost every fight in school. He smirked in your direction as if he could read your mind and invited you to his next fight which was just outside of town. 

Watching him up there as he fought was a unique experience to be sure. He changed before your eyes into this more confident, determined man as he focused on his opponent and swung his arms. After winning, you brought him back to your apartment where you two barely even made it in the door before you were climbing on top of him.

“Can I ask you something?”, you asked and he answered with a soft but exhausted hm. “What triggered this? What made you say, ‘I’m going to leave Hawkins and get hit in the face for a living’?”

Steve rolled onto his side to face you as he reached out to brush some stray hair out of your face. 

“Short answer…you.”

“And the long answer?”

“When you compared me to my dad and talked about me trying to impress those other assholes, it triggered something in me. I definitely don’t want to become my dad and I hated the way you looked at me when you said I was just like those other kids. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I did some research and came across boxing. Y/N, you have no idea how liberating it was for me when I threw that first punch and hit the bag in front of me.”

Your fingers tenderly caressed his face as his own hand slid down your back to bring you closer to him. 

“I always thought about you. I told myself whenever I came back here my first goal was to find you and FINALLY get to know you better.”, he chuckled.

You smiled as you blushed as his words. “What if I had been with someone!?”

“Pfft. Then I would fight him.” Steve leaned back and pretended to box the air making you laugh.

“Or what if I saw you and I was like ‘Ew. Look at the god-awful Steve Harrington! With the muscles and the pretty hair. Ugh!” His lips cut you off mid-cackled as he rolled his body on top of yours. 

“Then I’d fight for you. You’re mine, pretty girl.” The way his eyes were penetrating yours had you shiver at the intensity. His face hovered as his nose grazed the tip of your own. “Can you say it for me, honey?”, he whispered, your eyes fluttering closed as he trailed kisses down to your neck. 

“I belong to you.”, you moaned as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Mmm…you belong to who, baby girl?”

“I belong to Daddy.”

Three years had passed since then and you couldn’t be happier or prouder of everything Steve had accomplished. Next Friday was supposed to be a big fight. If he won, it would lead to more eyes on him which in turn would lead to more revenue. 

“Hey, Y/N. How are you doing today, angel.”

“I’m good, Jimmy. How are you?”, you beam at his coach. 

“Oh, never better, baby. Never better.” As you climb up the ropes to hang over the ring, Steve hastily runs over to you as he pulls off one of his gloves and helps you into the area. “Do you want some gloves, missy? Give Steve here some real competition.”

You giggle as your boyfriend tilts your head up for a kiss. “God, no. He’d knock me out in a second.”

“What’s the matter, honey? Scared?”, Steve teases. 

You playfully glare at him as Jimmy brings you some gloves that are your size and places you across from him. You both do the gloved fist bump you’ve seen him do with opponents numerous times and take your stance. 

Steve smirks as you circle around each other and after a few moments you take your first swing that he swiftly blocks. Both your moves at each other are light and joking, not in any way meant to harm. 

“That’s good, baby girl. You have to twist your arm a bit more.” You concentrate as he shows you the move and once you follow through, he claps his gloves together making you smile with pride. “That’s my girl!”

You grin as you fall into his chest and he pretends to fall over bringing you down with him. 

“Let’s hope you do better than that on Friday, yeah?”, Jimmy asks as Steve nods. “Alright, I’m out of here. Harrington, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon for our last training session and talk strategy for the fight, alright?”

“Thanks, Jim!”

“You are…disgustingly sweaty.”

Steve turns his attention back to you as you lean forward to grab his wrists and remove his gloves. 

“Yet you’re still on top of me.”

“I’m doing it to hide the gigantic erection in your shorts right now.”, you whisper.

“Hey, it’s not my fault when you walk into the room, I get all hot and bothered.” Once his hands are free, he rests one on your thigh as the other comes up to caress your cheek. “Did you have a good day today?”

“I did. My boss was only half an idiot today.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to him?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sure.” You grin leaning down so your lips are just above his own. “I can handle one stupid, ignorant man.”

“I know you can, sweetheart. I just hate the way he talks to you. He better hope he doesn’t say any bullshit in front of me.”

“Oh, big tough Daddy. I like it.” 

Steve smiles as his hand glides to the back of your neck and roughly brings your face closer to his. “You know you love when Daddy takes care of you.”

You bite your bottom lip as he begins grinding hips up against your own. 

“Do you wanna take care of Daddy while he takes a shower? Say it.”, he commands when you nod your head.

“I want to take care of you. Please, Daddy. Let me help you relax.”

His grin grows as you both rise to your feet and he helps you down from the ring. As soon as his feet touch the floor, he lifts you into his arms, and you giggle as he carries you into the empty locker room. 

############

The night of the fight came and Steve was more than ready. You stayed by his side until exactly an hour before he was meant to exit to the ring, kissing his lips before hugging him tightly to you. 

“Good luck, baby. You got this.”

He curtly nodded as you gave him one last comforting smile. You understood he had a process and this was usually how he was before a fight. He was zoned in and prepared, ready to take on the world. 

As the ushers walked you to your seat in the front, you froze when you saw who was sitting beside you. 

“Hey, Y/N! How are you, sweetheart?”, Mrs. Harrington cooed as she got to her feet to give you a hug. 

“I’m…I’m good. What are you two doing here?”

“This is a big fight, right? I don’t know why my son didn’t invite us. ‘You can watch it on TV he says.’”, Mr. Harrington rolls his eyes.

As the announcer began to speak, you panickily looked around, trying to figure out what you should do. He never had his phone on him on nights like this and the match was about to start so you couldn’t go back to the locker room. 

Please don’t let him notice them.

Steve entered the ring with his usual bout of confidence that made you swoon. You continued to pray as you watched them introduce him and rattle off some of his stats. His eyes found yours for a moment before he looked beside you. Your heart shattered into a million pieces when you watched this version of him and the high school version have their own fight within his beautiful, brown orbs as they noticed his father. 

When his focus shifted back to you, you silently mouthed that you loved him, and again he nodded before the match finally began. 

***

Steve angrily stalked into the apartment you two shared and headed for the kitchen, grabbing a glass, and filling it with the hardest liquor there was. Your eyes carefully watched him as he moved about, finally stomping outside onto the patio, and lighting a cigarette. 

Nights after a lost match were always the worst, you never knew how he was going to behave. Sometimes he would do like he had just done and sit outside for hours smoking and drinking till he passed out on the furniture. Other times, he would take that anger out on you and you allowed it. You allowed him to be rough with you in bed till you both were fully spent. Even when he was upset, he needed to make you feel good to. 

More than anything you just hated how hard he was on himself. He always gave 110% in everything he did but it wasn’t enough for him. If he lost at something he was a failure and there was nothing you could say or do to make him feel otherwise. 

Normally, you left him to his thoughts but you couldn’t do that tonight. You knew he was in a lot of pain, not just physically but emotionally as well. Slowly, you stepped outside and tiptoed to the other chair that was next to him. 

Steve was leaning back lazily with his legs stretched all the way out as he held the cold glass to the bandage just above his eye. Occasionally, he brought the cigarette to his busted lip before dangling it back over the arm of the patio chair. 

“Baby…”

“Go away, Y/N.”

You heavily exhale as you try again. “Sweetheart, you did really well. Don’t let your dad or anyone else make you feel like you didn’t do a good job.” As you spoke, he casually got up, tossing his cigarette, and walked back inside. “There will be other fights like this one.”

“Y/N, I’m only going to say it one more time. Get…away…from…me.”

“No.” His head leaned to the side at your answer. “Baby, everything’s going to be okay.”

Steve sarcastically chuckled, taking another sip of his drink before abruptly raising his arm and violently throwing his glass against the adjacent wall. 

“You wanna play, baby girl. Let’s play. First off, fuck you. Don’t stand there and pretend like you understand anything when it comes to boxing or my job, alright? You are my girlfriend not my coach or my manager. Your job is to stand by my side and shut the fuck up while I do what I need to do.”

Oh, that’s how he wants to play tonight? He had just entered another ring and you were the challenger. He needed to spar with you and he knew you were a worthy opponent. You knew how to challenge him and you didn’t take his attitude or temper lying down. He needed you to put him in his place so he could properly put you in yours. 

“Secondly, we needed this fucking win tonight. You like this apartment, the pool, that fucking outfit you’re wearing? All of that cost money, Y/N.”

“I see…so this is all my fault? I’m the one that wants expensive things apparently? I’m not some gold-digging trophy wife, Steve. I work and I help pay for things around here. I have never once asked you to buy me anything extravagant because I don’t fucking need it. And yes, I am your girlfriend but I actually fucking listen to you when you talk. You will have more fights. If you wanted a girl who would be silent and just swipe your credit card, you should have looked somewhere else!”

He fumed as you yelled at him, his fists clenching by his side as he listened and his angry eyes never leaving yours. You pointed your finger in his face as you stepped closer to him. 

“You can blame me all you want, Steve Harrington, but you needed to win that fight for you and your fucking ego.”

“Take off your dress.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said…take off your dress. You don’t need these nice things anymore? That’s fine. I can return that and the other fancy things I bought you. Tomorrow when I wake up, I can go look for one of those studio apartments for you so you can move in there.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t need you to help me look. I can find a new Daddy on my own who won’t act like a fucking baby.”

There it is. That particular look in his eyes that tells you he’s in the right headspace. He may not look like he’s in control to any outsider looking in but you’ve been in love with his man for three years. You knew. 

You two stared at each other for a few seconds before you turned and bolted to the bedroom. You could hear him hot on your tail before he practically tackled you onto the bed. Your hands tried to push against him but he was too strong, straddling your waist as he pinned your wrists to the mattress. 

“You want to find a new Daddy? HUH?!”, he screamed in your face. “You think someone else can take care of you as well as I have?” Steve shifted your hands so he could hold them with one of his own he climbed off you and reached under your dress to bring down your panties. A couple of his fingers roughly slid into your core as he set a brutal pace. 

“Little girl always talks a big game but when we get down to it, you’re always still so fucking wet for me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned, still trying to fight against hold but not wanting him to let go. You buck your hips but it just pushes him to be rougher as he curls his fingers inside of you. “There you go, baby. That’s the spot right there, right? Daddy knows. I know every fucking inch of your body and how to please you. You think anyone else can make you cum like I do?”

His palm released your wrists and quickly slid down your throat, gripping it just so between his thick fingers as he watched your eyes roll back. Your hands feebly reach for anything they can, settling on taking hold of his knee. Steve always made sure to have some part of his body near you that way if you couldn’t speak but felt like you needed to tap out you could. 

Just like with his boxing, he had rules and regimens in bed. He always wanted you to feel safe and gave you strict guidelines for how to get his attention should you need to. Three taps meant stop but right now all you were doing was grounding yourself as you focused on your own high. 

You whimpered, digging your nails into his skin as you came. While you laid there panting, he climbed over your limp frame and yanked off your dress. With hooded eyes you watched as he removed his clothes before tugging you to the edge of the mattress like a ragdoll and flipping you onto your stomach. 

His strength always amazed (and intimated) you. Being a bigger woman, you weren’t exactly light and all the men in your past never even bothered to try lifting you into their arms. When Steve did it that first night you were together, you were awe struck. More than anything, you swooned at the fact that he didn’t even hesitate; he just did it knowing he could.

The first time you questioned him about it he looked at you like you were speaking gibberish. 

“Honey, you’re not heavy.”

“Uh oh, I think you’ve been hit one too many times. You’re going blind.”, you giggle.

Steve grinned slightly before his face got serious. “Y/N, just because past relationships couldn’t handle a beautiful woman like you doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

“I know. I just…no one’s ever even bothered to try and lift me let alone everything else we do.”

He stepped forward and lifted your chin with his fingers. “You have a real man now, baby. You and your curves don’t scare me.”

You smile, lifting up on your toes to kiss his lips. “You don’t scare me either.”

His rough, calloused hands lifted your hips and spread your ass cheeks apart before his palm came down hard as he spanked you. You moaned when you felt him spit into your cunt before aggressively breaching your entrance with his cock. 

“Daddy!”

Steve’s arm came into view beside you as you felt him hover over you and begin rolling his hips. 

“You want to act like a fucking brat, I can…I can treat you like one.”, he grunted. “No more fucking dinners, fa-fancy clothes, fucking nothing! You—f-fuck—can just be Daddy’s toy. Huh? At least until you find your new Daddy who’s not a fucking baby.”

His fingers gripped your hair as he stood up and thrust into you so hard the bed shook underneath you.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he continually hit all the right places inside of you, overwhelming your senses. Tears began streaking your face as you felt the warmth build in your tummy again. He really was the only man that knew how to satisfy you. 

He noticed your lips moving but couldn’t hear what you were saying. Steve’s palm smacked your ass as he yanked you to your knees till your back was against his now sweaty chest. 

“What’s the rule?”, he growled “If you’re talking I…I need to fucking hear you. What were you saying?” When you don’t answer, he stops pumping into you before reaching down to pinch your clit between his fingers making you whine and try to pull away from him. “Answer me, little girl.”

Your head lazily falls back on his shoulder as you continue to cry. The hand that was in your hair loops around to your chin, turning your lips to his as he softly placed a kiss on them. 

“I love…you… Just want…you.”, you panted out as best you could. 

Steve released your nub from his grasp and wrapped his arm around you stomach as he began thrusting into you again. 

“Cum, baby. Cum for Daddy.” You laid your arms over his own, clinging to him as your body spasmed and you did as he commanded. “That’s my girl. Fuck… my beautiful girl.”

As he chased his high, you continued to try and whisper things in his ear. 

“MY…Daddy. No one could…make me…feel this good. I’m…oh my god… so proud of you, baby. Please…cum, Daddy. I need…need it.”

His hips began to sputter and he grips you tightly as he roughly pumps his release inside of you. You both were still like that for a while, trying to catch your breath as he held you. 

“I’m going to pull out now, ok?”, he whispered.

“Okay, Daddy.”

You winced as he cooed softly, placing feathery light kisses on your skin as he praised you. He detached from you for moment; long enough for you to hear the shower turn on before he was back by your side and lifting you into his arms. 

Steve wasted no time taking care of you as he cleaned your body and washed your hair. 

“I DO listen to you when you talk. One of the things I love about you is how passionate you about boxing. I remember in school you always seemed like, I don’t know, you were coasting by. On our first date, you told me about the maneuvers and explained things to me.”, you smile as you continued. “Your hands were moving a mile a minute and your eyes lit up. It was amazing.”

His fingers lightly gripped your shoulders as he turned you to face him. “I may not know everything about it, Steve, but I know you. I know there will be another fight and I know you’re going to win because you are the most dedicated man I’ve ever met. You’re not going to stop until you get where you want to be.”

He pulled you into his arms, pressing your cheek to his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you and said all that stuff. I don’t really feel that way. I was just upset.”

“I know, baby.”

After turning off the water, he quickly grabs a towel, drying you both and guiding you back to bed. Steve grabs his boxers and throws one of his big, baggy shirts over your head making you laugh. 

“I love that you speak your mind and challenge me. Hell, if you hadn’t done that in school, I never would have gotten into boxing.”

“I’m so proud of you, Steve. I really am. Whether you win or lose, buy me fancy things or give me gifts from the dollar store…” Your smile grows as he laughs and kneels down in front of you, laying his head on your thighs as you gently pet his head. “I’m always going to be in your corner.”

*Perfect Revenge – Steve Harrington

Warnings: cheated on and cheating with, underage drinking, rough sex, unprotected sex, language

I walked around the house, not entirely sure whose house I was at. With my one and only beer in my hand, I roamed the house looking for my boyfriend. Johnathan and I have been together for about three months. This party was his idea. I'm not sure why he insisted on coming. He usually hated parties.

I headed down the hallway and opened random doors. I wish I had never checked the last door. I covered my mouth as I gasped when my eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Johnathan?!" I yelled when the shock wore off.

"Y/N," he stuttered. "It's not what it looks like."

"Really?" I scoffed. "So you're not fucking Nancy Wheeler?!"

"Y/N. . ."

"Shut up, bitch!"

I turned around and stormed out of the room. I ignored their calls and focused on getting out of there. My mind was racing as I rushed down the hallway. I gasped when I bumped into someone.

"Whoa," Steve laughed. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

"I'm fine," I said, slowly and softly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"I don't really believe you," he mumbled, "but anyway, have you seen Nancy?"

"Yes," I whispered. "But you're not gonna want to know."

"Why?" He paused. "Y/N," he elongated, "what's going on?"

I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. So instead, I pointed. He sent me a look before walking into the room I just left. I knew he was there when I heard Nancy gasp his name.

Wow. . . They didn't bother stopping.

When he reappeared in front of me, I could see the anger in his eyes. He looked at me and that anger softened.

"Let's go," he said through clenched teeth.

"Where?"

"Does it matter?" He said harshly. He cleared his throat and changed his tone. "I'm sorry, Y/N. When I said 'let's go', I meant let's get out of here before I beat your boyfriend's ass."

"Ex-boyfriend," I mumbled. "I mean I haven't actually broken up with him. He was a little. . . busy. But I think it's pretty obvious. Right?"

Steve smiled softly at me as he stepped closer and grabbed my hand. "Right," he whispered. "Let me try this again; wanna get out of here and go get a drink somewhere we aren't being cheated on?"

"I'd like that," I tried to laugh but my voice cracked. He intertwined our fingers and led me to his car. He turned it on but didn't leave the house.

"I don't know where to go," he mumbled.

"I know a place," I said softly.

"What do you mean? Neither one of us is twenty-one."

"My cousin owns a bar," I explained. "He'll serve us if you're with me."

"Good to know," he smirked.

As Steve drove us to my cousin's bar, I couldn't get the image of Johnathan and Nancy out of my head. I cleared my throat, trying to get the frog out of my throat.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling me out of my head.

"Nope."

"Me either."

When we got there, we got out of the car and headed inside. "Hey, Y/N," my cousin greeted us from behind the bar.

"We need a drink," I said, sitting on the bar stool in front of him. "Now."

"Wow," he laughed. "What's wrong with you two?"

"My boyfriend cheated on me tonight."

"Damn," he sighed as he instantly grabbed a glass and started making me my usual.

"With his girlfriend," I finished as I pointed at Steve.

"Double damn."

"Steve, this is my cousin, Mark," I introduced. "He's gonna get us drunk."

"Just don't tell anyone," Mark said, sending us a smirk. "What'll you have, Steve?"

* * * * *

About an hour later, Steve and I were deliriously drunk.

"What are we gonna do about this?" Steve drunkenly sighed.

"I don't know," I pouted. "But. . ."

"But what?" He asked when I didn't continue. He swiveled his stool toward me.

"But whatever we do. . ."

"Tell me, Y/N," Steve chuckled.

"Promise you won't judge me?" I asked.

"I promise," he said, crossing his heart.

"I want to make them hurt," I said, not meaning to make my voice sound darker. "I want to make them feel as shitty as we feel."

"What did you have in mind?" Steve smirked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "We can't actually hurt them."

"True," he chuckled. "But we can do to them what they did to us."

"You mean. . ."

I held my breath as Steve grabbed my knees and spun me toward him. I gasped as he slowly slid his hands higher. I stopped focusing on how high his hands were going as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

As soon as my body flooded with endorphins, I grabbed his face and deepened the kiss. We scooted as close as we could get without falling off our stools. I gasped when Steve pulled on my legs, making my stool scoot closer to his. It still wasn't close enough to him so he slid off his stool. I moaned against his lips as he opened my thighs and stood between my legs.

"Steve," I moaned as soon as he broke the kiss and started kissing my neck. "Maybe we should. . . Don't you think. . ."

I gasped when he bit my neck, making me shiver with pleasure.

"Let's get out of here," I said quickly. Steve slowly pulled away with a dirty smirk on his face.

"I like the sound of that."

Without another word, Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me with him. The butterflies in my stomach went crazy as he led me to his car. We got in and started driving us somewhere. I didn't bother to ask him where we were going. The truth was, I didn't care where we were going.

I smirked when Steve pulled onto a hiking trail. My stomach flipped when I realized where we were going.

"I've always wanted to come here," I said under my breath.

"Johnathan never brought you to Skull Rock?" He asked, smirking in a way that made my whole body burn.

"He thought it was your spot," I whispered, "and he didn't want to run into you and. . . Nancy."

I looked away when I connected the dots and figured out the real reason he never wanted to come here. With tears in my eyes, I looked down and started playing with my fingers. I held my breath when Steve reached over and put his hand on top of mine.

"Let's not think about them," he whispered. "Besides, we're here."

I looked up to see Steve had parked. He got out and sent me a wink before opening my door for me. He grabbed my hand but I didn't go with him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his face dropping. "I thought you. . ."

I got out of the front seat but immediately turned and started getting in the back seat. Steve smirked as he leaned against the car.

"Y/N," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you know the whole point of Skull Rock is to make out at, on, and against Skull Rock?"

"I know," I shrugged. Steve swallowed hard when I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it into the front seat. "But what's the harm in getting started here?"

"Nothing," he said through clenched teeth. "Absolutely fucking nothing."

I laughed when he got into the back, instantly climbing on top of me. When he was straddling me, he tore his shirt off and tossed it toward mine. Steve made me gasp as he pressed his lips roughly to mine.

We didn't waste any time. Soon, we were only in our underwear, our bodies dancing against each other.

I gasped and arched my back when Steve leaned down and pressed his face between my breasts. I have never wanted to get rid of a piece of clothing as much as I have wanted to tear off my bra.

Luckily, Steve beat me to it. He slid his hand under my body and was able to undo it with one hand. The second he got it undone, I tore it off and tossed it somewhere.

"Fuck!" I moaned loudly as his lips wrapped around my nipple. "Shit, Steve Harrington," I moaned. "I used to hear about what you did to the girls you brought here."

I gaped when he roughly pulled away. He looked me straight in the eyes as he said, "All of them were nothing compared to you, gorgeous. They were just pointless and useless fucks. Not you."

Steve leaned down and smashed his lips onto mine. I ran my fingers through his hair, slightly pulling on strands until he groaned. When I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed the hem of his boxers and tore them down his thighs. The second he was free, I kicked off my underwear.

Before either one of us could really think this through, I opened my legs and Steve positioned himself. I gasped, breaking the kiss and arching my back when he pushed into me. Things sped up as our lips moved in sync as our bodies danced. We did different things, changing whenever we made the other moan.

We lost track of time as we only focused on each other. Out of the different sexual experiences I've had, Steve Harrington was something else.

"I know why all the girls at school call you the King of Hawkins High," I moaned. My moan turned into a gasp when he pulled out of me.

Steve chuckled as he leaned down and returned his face to my favorite spot. "Fuck," I groaned as he started massaging my breast with his mouth.

Without moving his mouth, Steve grabbed my leg and wrapped my thigh around his waist. I swore under my breath when he was able to push back into me while making out with my chest.

"Oh Steve," I moaned. I grabbed his face and brought it back to mine. Our lips instantly started devouring each other and our tongues battled for dominance.

"Squeeze," he moaned into my mouth.

"Harder," I moaned back. It seemed like we both held our breaths as we fulfilled the other's request. We let out releasing moans as we gave into our rising orgasms.

As we slowly pulled apart, we looked into each other's eyes. The butterflies went crazy as he reached up and moved some hair out of my face. I wanted to say something sweet, something to tell him how much the night meant to me, but nothing came to mind. So instead, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Guess we never made it to Skull Rock."

* * * * *

After Steve and I got our revenge, he drove me home and I figured it would end there.

It didn't.

A couple of days later, I was in my room finishing my report when someone knocked on my window. I looked up and my heart jumped in my throat.

"Steve?" I panicked. I quickly stood up, went to my window, and opened it. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," he shrugged like it was obvious. I watched as he climbed through my window.

"Why?" I couldn't help but ask. When Steve turned around, he grabbed my waist and pulled me into his chest.

"Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," he said, his voice low. "You, my backseat, and the hiking trail parking lot half a mile from Skull Rock."

I moaned when he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Without breaking the kiss, Steve walked us toward my bed. We gasped, slightly chuckling as we fell backward.

Instead of kissing me again, he stopped. He reached over and moved some hair out of my face.

"You really haven't stopped thinking about me?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Of course not," he whispered. "I have thought about absolutely everything that happened that night."

"Everything?"

"Well, not everything," he smirked. "But only the important parts."

"Like?" I baited. I moaned when he slipped his hand under my shirt, searching for my breast. When he squeezed, I let out another moan.

"Like the feel of your skin against mine," he started listing off. "Like the feel of your body underneath mine. Like the feeling of my lips on your skin. Like the feeling of other body parts pressed and intertwined."

"But what about. . ." I started to ask but couldn't get myself to finish it.

"I broke up with her after I dropped you off."

"Wait, what?" I asked, slightly readjusting under him. He sat up and pulled me with him.

"After I took you home the other night," he explained, "I went by her house. She wasn't there, so I waited. The second she got home, I went to talk to her. I demanded answers and asked her about her and Johnathan. I won't tell you. . ."

"Please," I cut him off. "Tell me."

Steve sighed as he reached up and moved a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he started, "but they've been hooking up for months."

"Months?"

He slowly nodded. "Wow," I whispered as I looked down.

"I know this sucks," he said gently, "but it's a blessing in disguise."

"How?" I asked, my voice breaking. Steve used his finger to lift my head. Without saying anything, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

"Because it got us together," he whispered as he broke the kiss and kept his forehead pressed to mine. "It made me realize that you are so much better for me than Nancy Wheeler."

"Really?" I asked, the butterflies from a couple of days woke up. He didn't kiss me. Instead, he started kissing my jaw. I felt the hickeys form as he explored my neck.

"What did you say?" I stuttered, trying to get my head back on straight.

"What do you mean?" He moaned against my collarbone.

"The other night," I barely got out, "with Nancy."

"Oh yeah," he smirked as he pulled away. "I ended it. I also told her you and Johnathan were over so she could have him." His smirk dropped. "Was that okay?"

"Yes," I said softly. "It is. Besides, those two cheaters deserve each other."

Steve leaned in but didn't press his lips to mine. Instead, he whispered, "Just like how we deserve each other."

"You really believe that?"

To answer me, Steve closed the gap between us and kissed me. I ran my fingers through his hair as our lips moved in sync. We broke the kiss with matching moans.

"I really do," he whispered. "I know Johnathan hurt you. And honestly, I want to beat the shit out of him for making you cry. But I won't do that. Instead, I'll get back at him by treating you better. Way better, Y/N. The way you deserve to be treated. I promise."

Steve put his hand on my stomach and laid me down, hovering over me. I arched my back when he started kissing and biting my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut as he explored my skin.

"Have you ever done it in the shower?" I asked between moans. Steve pulled away and smirked down at me. "I've never done it, but I hear it's pretty amazing."

"It's fucking unbelievable," he growled, grinding his body against mine. "I can show you the ropes."

"Ropes?" I teased. "Is that your kink, Harrington?"

"Not really," he shrugged teasingly. "My kink is more sneaking around and doing it when and where I know I shouldn't."

"Well then," I moaned as I slid my hands under his shirt and started slowly unbuttoning his pants. "I can show you the ropes."

Don't Stand So Close To Me

Five was doing his best to resist you. You were too young for him. Too eager. But when he decided to try and scare you straight, he got a little more than he bargained for. That's when he realized maybe he wasn't as strong as he thought he was.

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 6,700 words, One-shot

Warnings: Smut, explicit sex, everyone is an adult

This was born from a request I received for Five with a young(ish) woman that won't leave him alone. I have modified a few things, but I hope it still works! ❤️

Five sighed and rolled his eyes when he saw you coming toward him. He had been balancing a bag of dry cleaning in one hand and cup of coffee in the other and was just about to chance blinking inside his apartment instead of using the door when he heard your greeting.

“Damn it,” he muttered to himself, wishing he had just risked spilling his beverage all over his newly pressed suits by disappearing inside. Now he was stuck.

“Here, let me help!” you chirped, jogging up to him.

“No thanks, I’ve got it,” Five argued, but as he did so the bag of clothes nearly slipped from his hand.

“Got it!” you exclaimed with a smile, snatching up the bag.

Five gave a weary smile and another sigh. “Thank you.”

“No problem!”

As Five fished around in his pocket for his key, he tried not to make eye contact with you. Actually, he tried not to have anything to do with you most of the time. You just hadn’t gotten the hint.

“What are you up to tonight?” you asked, and Five could hear the twinge of hopefulness in your voice.

“Oh, you know…the same as usual. Make some dinner, watch Unsolved Mysteries, and go to bed.” He opened the door and took the dry cleaning from you. “Typical old man stuff.”

You nodded as if you knew exactly what he was talking about. You did know, in a way. You knew all about Five’s history, his powers, and his actual age. It’s hard to keep that shit private when your entire life has been broadcast across the world for everyone to witness. Unfortunately, at least from Five’s point of view, you didn’t seem to care.

You bit at your fingernail and looked down at the ground. Five wasn’t about to invite you in, so he waited for an uncomfortable few seconds before speaking up again.

“Ok, well, thanks for your help. Have a good night.”

“Oh…ok,” you said sadly. “Good night, Five.”

As Five stepped inside his apartment and flicked on the light, he draped his bag of suits over a chair, taking a sip of his coffee. He shoved a hand in his pocket and looked around his small, quiet apartment. It wasn’t much; just a shitty one-bedroom with a miniscule kitchen. But that was all he needed. That and to be left alone.

Despite trying to keep a safe distance from you, you had yet to be deterred. Five knew you liked him; it was pretty obvious. Ever since he moved into the building, you hadn’t missed an opportunity to corner him at the mailboxes, or in the hallway. Being trapped in the elevator was the most awkward, so Five tried his best to avoid those encounters by blinking around as much as possible. You always seemed to catch him, though.

It's not that Five didn’t like you. You were sweet, and cute, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered that you were so into him. The problem was that you were 21 and he was in his late sixties. Old enough to be your grandfather; at least mentally. Physically, he was in your same age range, which he assumed made things very confusing for you. While you did know all about his older consciousness, Five figured you conveniently forgot most of the time. Like when you wore those tiny little running shorts with a sports bra and decided to do some warm up stretches directly in front of his door.

Five wasn’t fully immune to your little come-ons. He still had a pulse, after all. Not to mention the hormones and libido of a much younger man. Still…even after all that he had witnessed and done throughout his life, he had managed to hold onto a couple scraps of morality. And only sleeping with women who were over the age of 30 was a personal rule of his.

He wasn’t sure why he picked that age; it was still more than half of his. But he figured most people’s brains had fully matured by then and it made him feel like less of a sexual deviant. He hadn’t had a date or any hook ups in a while, though. Most nights he just came back to his place and did exactly what he told you he did. Old man stuff.

As he stood there, contemplating all of this, there was a knock at his door. Five rolled his eyes yet again and set his coffee down. When he opened the door, there you were, as he suspected. You looked up at him with nervous eyes that couldn’t quite hold his own while holding two large containers of food and a bottle of red wine.

“Hi, again. What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Five. So, it turns out I made too much food for dinner, so I wondered if you wanted some?” You held out the containers to him. “It’s spaghetti and a salad, and I had this bottle of wine that I thought would go well with it. It’s nothing fancy, but I know you’re alone, so you probably don’t have anyone to cook for you…” Your voice trailed off and you looked away.

Five ran a hand down the back of his neck and looked down the hallway. No one else was around and he was hungry. He reached out to take the food, but left you holding the wine.

“Thank you, that’s really nice of you.”

Your eyes lit up at his compliment and you smiled. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I cook all the time, so anytime you want me to make you something, just let me know. I’m pretty good at it.”

Five chuckled. “I have no doubt that you are. It looks great.” He was about to go back into his apartment, when he looked back at your disappointed face. Shit. If he didn’t invite this girl in, he was going to look like a real asshole. He was definitely going to regret this, though. “Would you like to come in and join me for dinner? Looks like you made plenty for both of us.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

Five smiled gently and shook his head. “No, you’re not. Come on in.”

After you stepped in, and Five busied himself making plates of food for the two of you, you set the wine on the kitchen table and looked around his place.

“Wow, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.”

Five looked up while he opened the wine. “Isn’t it just the same as your place?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it is. Which is why I’m surprised. I thought yours would be a little…”

“Old man-ish?” Five grinned as he handed you the glass of Pinot Noir.

“…sexier,” you answered with a sly grin, taking the glass from him.

Five’s eyebrows raised. “Sexier?”

You shrugged and took a sip. “I don’t know. I expected more black and leather. Like a real bachelor pad, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s not really me,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “I’m not exactly a swinging bachelor these days.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Oh, no? How come?”

Five saw he had backed himself into a corner and he didn’t really want to get into his love life with you, so he cleared his throat and gestured to the table. “Food’s ready.”

As you sat across from one another at Five’s small dining table, the initial awkwardness began to wear off as the wine started taking effect. You became a little bolder in your flirting, and Five was finding he didn’t mind as much as he usually did. By the time dinner was finished, and another bottle of red was opened, you had moved to the living room to continue your conversation. Five sat down on the couch as you plopped in the armchair across from him, tucking your leg up under you, making your shorts slide up your bare thigh. Five couldn’t help but notice, and you caught him in the act.

As you continued your small talk, Five watched as you fidgeted in your chair. Every adjustment of your body seemed to be just for him, and he found his mouth pooling with saliva that he tried very hard to subtly swallow back down. It was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. The smooth, bare skin of your legs, the curves of your breasts, the way your lips looked so damn delicious as you talked. He was in trouble.

“So,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s getting late.”

You nodded with an upturn of your mouth before standing up and crossing to Five. As you loomed over him, he looked up, his gaze traveling the full length of your body. The wine was giving you more confidence that you normally would have. He looked so damn good, sitting there with his hair a little disheveled from running his hand through it all night, and you weren’t quite ready for the evening to end yet. You reached down, taking his wine glass to set it on the table with your own. When you climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, and draping your arms over his shoulders, he was shocked into silence.

Your warm groin settled over his lap with your tits pressed against his chest. Breathing harder, his hands automatically came to rest on your hips as he looked up at you. You smiled, your hair framing your face as you leaned in to kiss him.

Five closed his eyes, his grip on you tightening for a second as he kissed you in return. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself down when you felt him start to harden beneath you. That’s when he woke from his trance and pulled his head back.

“Stop.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Look…I like you, but we can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Well, there’s a lot of reasons, but namely I’m way too old for you. And you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Ok, well, I am. And that doesn’t change the fact that I’m about three times older than you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but this needs to stop before it goes any further.”

“You’re sure that’s what you want?” you asked, tilting your head to the side and giving just a little push into his crotch.

He shook his head slowly, exhaling a long breath. “No, but it’s what needs to happen. Understand?”

After you reluctantly left, Five cleaned up the kitchen, jerked off in the shower, and went to bed trying very hard not to think of you anymore. Over the next two weeks, he did everything he could think of not to run into you in the building again. He was afraid that not only would it be awkward, but that he would start feeling things he shouldn’t.

The truth was, you had gotten to him. Despite his best efforts, that little stunt you pulled by climbing into his lap had worked. Fuck, had it worked. Not a day went by when he wasn’t imagining what would have happened had he not cut it short. Those firm tits pressed against him and your soft lips against his…shit, he was going insane. He had to keep to his rule, though. You were just too young.

But you did not give up easily. You knew what you wanted and you were determined to make him see you as the adult you really were.

“Five!” you called with a little wave, as you caught him trying to enter his apartment one evening.

When Five saw you, he cursed under his breath. He really did not have the energy to deal with you. He had just gotten back from a job and he was not in the mood for your little antics.

“You can’t keep coming over here like this, I’ve told you that,” Five explained, turning his focus back to the key in the door.

“I just wanted to say hi,” you said with an innocence that he wasn’t buying.

“Yeah, I know what you’re doing,” he grumbled.

You paused. “I’m sorry about what happened before, Five. I understand why you might be hesitant, but you know…”

“What do I know?”

“I am an adult, like I said. You don’t have to keep treating me like I’m a kid.”

“You are a kid,” Five shot back.

You looked up at him with a tiny smirk. “From what I remember, it didn’t feel like you thought I was a kid the other night.”

Five’s jaw set, his teeth grinding together. He wasn’t going to stand there and get made fun of by some girl that was determined to get in his pants, even if he did have the beginnings of a boner when she sat on his lap.

“Just stay away from me, ok?” he snarled. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, please, Five…I think I can handle—”

Five turned abruptly, his face hard with dark brows pulled together. As he leaned in, his jaw set and body tense, you flinched, but did not break your eye contact.

“You think you can handle me, sweetheart? You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he hissed in your face.

Swallowing, but holding your ground, you nodded. “I can handle you, Five. I’m not scared of you. And if you’d just let me get to know you a little more –"

His laugh was laced with menace as he took another step toward you. You were left staring at one another, neither of you backing down. He was close enough that you could hear his harsh breathing through his nose and smell the faint traces of after-shave. His eyes searched over your face before turning back to his door.

“Get the fuck away from me. Please,” he said quietly.

“I know what I’m doing, I’m not sure why you think I’m so innocent.”

Five looked down and sighed. He was tired of constantly trying to maintain his morality. He was an old man in a young man’s body and he was so damn sick of taking the higher road. Most people thought he was an asshole, and they weren’t wrong. He had a high success rate of keeping the people he wanted out of his life out, and barely tolerating the ones he let in. He was a killer. A trauma-filled nightmare wrapped up in a pretty package. He was not normal, and it was time you knew that.

“Fuck it,” he said out loud to no one in particular. As his eyes locked on yours again, his normally emerald-colored ones became dark.

He continued to take another step toward you, and then another, until you were backed against the opposite wall of the quiet hallway. Overhead, the fluorescent lights hummed as a single fly battled for its life inside one of the fixtures.

“Alright…I will confess, I have been thinking a lot about you lately.”

“You have?”

Five nodded, closing in on you until he was inches from your body; close enough that you could see the faint line of stubble on his chin and hear his deep breathing.

“Specifically…what you would be willing to do for me.”

As his gaze traveled over your body, taking in the tight tank top and miniscule shorts you were wearing, you could almost feel the energy pulsing out of him in waves. It was terrifying and intoxicating, and it had you rooted to the spot.

“What do you want me to do for you?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly.

“Strip.”

You had been trying to keep up with him. Trying to beat him at his own game. But you sucked in a quiet, yet audible, gasp of air.

“What?”

“I want you naked for me. Now.”

He was still so close to you, his mouth mere inches away from yours, and yet he made no further movement to do anything else. He was trapping you there; playing with his prey for fun. And you weren’t sure if he was going to eat you or let you escape.

“Here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “That’s right, sweetheart. You think you know me? You think you want me? Then, prove it.”

“What if someone walks by?”

Five shrugged with a grin. He took a step back, allowing you enough room to leave, should you so choose. Again, he made no move to grab you, or touch you in any way. He shook his head, eyeing you pitifully.

“Don’t play games you can’t win. It won’t end well for you.”

When you had nothing to say to that, his demeanor changed again. Back to his normal, tired expression, his eyes and mouth drooped. He said nothing more, but just turned back toward his apartment, and opened the door. After he took a step inside, he heard you clear your throat. Turning around, he was faced with an unexpected sight.

With each slow, deliberate step you took in his direction, you started to strip your clothes away. First your top, lowering the straps over your shoulders and drawing it up over your head. Then your shorts, unbuttoning them before sliding them down your thighs and kicking them to the side. Five seemed frozen to the spot, unable to move and unable to speak. But his eyes followed you with an unmistakable hunger.

As you closed in on him, you were left in your bra and panties. With a small smirk, you reached behind you and undid the clasp of your bra. Slowly peeling it away from your body, you watched as Five’s gaze dropped to your breasts.

“Like I said…I’m not afraid of you,” you said, as you confidently jutted your chin out, along with your chest.

Five’s face flickered with shock, followed by what you could only imagine was lust, before it turned to anger. He grabbed your upper arm, squeezing it hard, before shaking you.

His teeth gritted and bared, he snarled in your face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You did your best to pretend you were in full control of the situation. “What you told me to do.”

Five’s eyes roamed over your body for a split second, before they were back on your face. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before. And yet, you had a feeling the anger was just masking something else. Something he didn’t want you to see.

At that moment, the loud ding of the elevator doors rang out, signaling that you would soon not be alone. He looked down the hallway and then back at you. When you didn’t make a move, his jaw tensed even more. Stalking past you to snatch your clothes off the floor, he grabbed your arm again.

“God damn it, get inside,” he demanded, yanking you forcefully through the doorway of his apartment.

As you stumbled your way inside, he continued to grasp your upper arm. He slammed the door behind you and got in your face again.

“Are you stupid?” he growled.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Well, stop fucking acting like it. Jesus!” He let go of your arm, leaving you standing there in just your underwear, while he ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t just go around stripping naked in public places just because someone tells you to. What the fuck?”

You smiled and took a step toward him. “What’s the matter Five? Losing at your own game?”

Five’s breath had become louder and harsher. You could practically see the wheels turning inside his head. He wanted you; you were sure of it. The juxtaposition of desire and restraint was evident in every twitch of coiled muscle and nervous hover of his eyes on your breasts. He had been trying to scare you; make you flee in terror at his aggressive advances. But joke was on him, because you fucking loved it.

Another look of anger swept over his face as he laughed darkly. “Shit. You really do not know what you are getting yourself into here.”

You swallowed nervously. “I don’t care.”

“Well, you should. And you should leave.”

Five continued to bore into you with his intense stare. His dark eyes indicated menace, but his stiff body language gave off something else. Fear. But Five Hargreeves does not give into fear easily. When he feels it creeping in, he turns it into something else. Something mean and ruthless.

When you didn’t make a move to leave, he took a step forward. A half-smirk formed on his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side.

“Alright then…you’ve been warned,” he said pleasantly, right before his voice turned ice cold. “Now lose those fucking panties before I rip them off myself.”

Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, you hooked your thumbs into the elastic waist of your lace panties and pulled them down over your hips, letting them drop to the floor at your feet. You stood perfectly still, allowing him to take you all in while your chest began to rise and fall more rapidly.

You thought you had him this time. How was he going to resist a fully nude woman right in front of his face? But instead of giving in, like you knew he wanted, he gave a small shake of his head. Still holding the clothes you had discarded in the hallway, he stepped forward until he was directly in front of you, smiling derisively. His face was so close to your bare skin, you could feel the warmth of his exhale along your leg as he bent to pick up the pair of underwear. When he walked casually past you in the direction of the living room, your jaw dropped as he opened the sliding glass doors that led to a small balcony, and hurled your clothes outside. You watched in disbelief as they floated briefly on the light breeze before disappearing out of sight; fluttering to the ground, six floors below.

He closed the doors, turning back to you with a satisfied, yet stony expression. He pointed at the door to the hall.

“Get out.”

You paused, your eyes nervously darting toward the door. “What?”

He flicked a piece of hair out of his eyes in indifference. “You said you didn’t care if anyone saw you. So, leave.”

When you continued to stand there, wide-eyed and confused, he snorted and shook his head. “That’s what I thought. I’m not the nice guy you think I am. And I’m certainly not one of your little fucking boyfriends you can manipulate to get your way.” His voice softened somewhat. “I can give you something to wear to go home in, but don’t ever come back here again. This is over, understand?”

After a few seconds of silence, you nodded your head slowly. “I understand.” With a sly smile, you turned, heading for the door, letting Five get a nice long look at your ass in the process. As you reached for the doorknob, you glanced over your shoulder, relishing in his bewilderment as you walked right out the door without a stitch of clothing on.

Out in the hallway, you tried not to panic. You hadn’t really thought out what was going to happen once you had committed to your little act of rebellion. Your apartment was on the other side of the floor, and you had to pass by many nosy neighbors’ places plus the elevators to get there. As you considered your options, your back was suddenly slammed into the wall, Five’s hands gripping your arms again after he appeared in a flash of blue.

“God damn it,” he seethed in your face.

Without another word, you were being ripped through one of his portals, reappearing inside his apartment again. You let out a small cry of surprise as you were flattened against the door, Five’s body pressed against yours.

He surveyed your face one more time, his eyebrows drawn together in torment. “Fuck, why did you do this to me?”

The next few minutes were a blur as Five released everything that he had been holding back in one ferocious attack. His mouth sucking and biting at your lips, his hands fisted tightly in your hair, and his hips jerking into you. Something feral and instinctual was propelling him, and you let him unleash all of it onto you.

With another tight hold on your wrist, you were dragged away from the door and whipped through a second portal, this time landing on his bed with a hard bounce. While you scrambled to sit up, Five had stripped off his shirt and was already unbuckling his belt, the clink of the metal drawing your attention to his hands as they unzipped his fly. Breathing hard through his nose, he looked at you, running a hand through his hair while pushing it off of his forehead.

With his cool green eyes locked on yours, he crooked a finger at you, beckoning you over. You worked your way off the bed, hesitating for just a moment, before closing the few feet so that you were standing directly in front of him.

He leaned down, a hand gently cradling the back of your neck, as he kissed you softly. You thought maybe you were going to see a new, tender side of him. Until he latched a hand onto your shoulder, gripping you hard while pushing you roughly down, forcing you to your knees. As he glared down at you, dark hair framing the sharp angles of his face, one corner of his mouth twitched up.

“You talk a big game, honey, so go ahead. Let’s see that mouth of yours in action.”

He was trying to intimidate you; to show you he was the boss. But you weren’t naïve and you weren’t dumb. There were subtle hints, like the way his breath hitched when he spoke to you, or the slight tremble in his hand as he guided your face up by your chin that gave his nerves away.

With your own small smile and a lick of your lips, you reached up to pull the black suit pants down, taking his boxers with them. Five let out a shaky exhale as his hard cock stood at attention in front of your face. With another coy glance up through soft lashes, you took him into your hand. He was bigger than you would have guessed, and you slowly stroked his thick shaft, pressing your thumb into the underside while following the vein from base to head. When you stretched out your tongue to give a kittenish lick across the tip, he hissed loudly, bringing his hand down to rest in your hair.

“Shit,” you heard him mutter under his breath as you started in.

He didn’t let you work up to it with teasing kisses or circles of your tongue around his dripping head. With one shove of his hand on the back of your head, his dick was down your throat. You let out a clipped groan that ended in a gurgling noise, before he was pulling you back and off again. With eyes wide and already gasping for air, your hair was tugged backward so that you were forced to look up at him.

An eyebrow raised, Five questioned you with a low voice. “Still think you can handle me?”

From your position on the floor, he towered above you like a god, watching as you worshiped at his feet. Your eyes traveled over his sculpted abs, his toned arms and shoulders that flexed with the effort of holding your head back. You took in the scars that dotted his abdomen and thighs; the line of soft hair that trailed from his navel to the main event. He was being rough, yes, but there was something in his eyes that gave him away. Like he wanted so badly to be something else, he just didn’t know how.

You nodded your head in an answer to his question, as his magnificent cock bobbed in front of your face, and you opened your mouth wide.

“Fuck,” he growled from deep in his chest.

Five was losing his mind, he was sure of it. All of his pent-up anger and frustration over his body/mind/age situation was coming to a head; and he was shoving that head directly and violently down your throat. He couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to stop it. You felt so damn good, with your warm mouth wrapped around him and your tongue sliding over the taught skin of his shaft. As his hips jerked into your face, harder and faster, he watched as you gagged and choked on his dick; saliva building up at the corners of your mouth as you so dutifully let him fuck your face.

“Ah…ffff-uu-goddamnit…yes, fuck yes, don’t stop…ah SHIT!”

His head was thrown back in complete bliss as he unloaded copious amounts of cum directly into the back of your throat, the sheer volume making it pour out the corners of your mouth and dribble down your chin. The rest you swallowed, choking down the steady stream of bitter semen while he moaned above you and fisted your hair even tighter.

As he finally began to relax and the last few twitches of his hips came to a halt, he dared to open his eyes and look down at the sight below him. He had loosened his grip on your hair, allowing his dick to slip out of your mouth. You gasped and sucked in the much-needed air that you hadn’t been getting as he released you entirely. Collapsing onto your hands and knees, you coughed and wiped at your destroyed mouth while Five did nothing more than stare down at you with a kind of horrified fascination.

What had he done?

When you looked back up at him, though, and he saw that devilish smile sneak across your lips, daring him to give you more, he stopped caring. It was clear you were going to let him do whatever he wanted. And, fuck, if he didn’t want to do so many things to you.

“Up,” he commanded, still trying to catch his breath.

He held out his hand for you to take, letting him haul you up to standing. He ran a hand down your cheek and kissed your ruined lips. There was that moment of softness again, and you closed your eyes against his touch.

Five guided you so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed. After another kiss, this time leaving you breathless, he dropped to his knees between your legs. Gripping your thighs in his hands, he roughly pushed your legs apart while pulling you closer to him.

Digging his fingers into your hips, he buried his face into your wet, throbbing pussy, and moaned.

“This wet just from sucking my cock? Fuck, honey, you’re driving me crazy.”

Alternating between long laps with his tongue and sucking at your clit, it was obvious he knew exactly what he was doing as you leaned backward, holding yourself up with your hands flat on the bed. When you dropped your head back, it banged against the wall, but you barely noticed since you were already on the cusp of a strong orgasm.

“Five…” you gasped, eyes clenched shut and biting at your bottom lip. You tried desperately to rock your hips into his face, but his grip was too strong. He was devouring you; eating you out almost viciously, while your palms began to sweat as they pressed harder into the bed. “Five…holy fff-uck…OH GOD!” you screamed as one last, perfect lick sent you reeling. With your entire body shuddering, Five only went at you harder; until you were letting out quiet, pitiful cries, and your thighs twitched against his head.

As you tried to catch your breath, Five finally let up, tearing himself away from your warm deliciousness, and standing up to lean over you. He was just as out of breath as you were, with his mouth shining and lips red. A mixture of your arousal and his saliva pooled obscenely underneath you.

“That was…holy shit…” you tried to get out, but you were cut off almost immediately.

“I’m not done yet. Not by a long shot,” he rasped.

Though only minutes had passed since he had unloaded into your mouth, his cock was hard again. As he rummaged around in a drawer, pulling out a condom, and rolling it on, you scooted back so that you were lying down lengthwise on the bed. There was no more time for rest, though, before Five was climbing on top of you, that look of voracity overtaking him again.

He began to kiss you; hard and insistently while running his tongue over your bottom lip and venturing inside. It was a mixture of intense want and hesitation as he squeezed your ass with one hand and lightly stroked your hair with the other. When he pulled back, he looked deep into your eyes, his hand coming to rest gently on your cheek, his thumb pressing under your chin.

“What do you think, sweetheart? Ready for more?”

With a slow smile forming on your face, you nodded.

“Fuck yeah. Give it to me.”

Five groaned, closing his eyes and dropping his face to your neck. His teeth scraped against your skin as he kissed you fervently while your fingers threaded through his hair. The second you opened your legs for him, he was shoving himself inside. Sucking in a loud breath, he buried his face into your shoulder.

“Fuuuck…you are tight…god, you feel so fucking good,” he moaned pitifully into you.

You threw your head back against the pillow with a loud moan. “Oh my god, I knew your dick would feel amazing.”

He didn’t respond, but he took both of your legs and balanced them on his shoulders, angling your hips up to push his dick in even further. He was buried to the hilt, with his tight balls slapping against your ass each time he drew back and slammed back into you.

Five was gone; completely lost inside his own debauched fantasy. He wanted to fuck you harder and harder until you couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to make you cry out his name while your back arched off the bed like you were possessed. When his eyes met yours, with the strands of hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat already forming there, you bit your bottom lip and smiled. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and that made him want to absolutely ruin you.

Smacking your ass hard enough to leave a mark before throwing your legs off his shoulders, Five roughly flipped you over. He forced the side of your face into the bed as he thrust inside you again, stretching your pussy and filling you up with his thick cock. His ragged breath warmed the side of your neck with each punishing drive of his hips against your ass as you whimpered softly.

“Come on, honey, let’s hear it,” he snarled next to your ear. “You’ve been dying for me to pound that sweet little pussy…so let me hear you. I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”

“Fff-iiive,” you sobbed, your fists clutching the bedspread underneath you as he railed relentlessly into you.

“That’s right,” he answered, and you could hear that cocky smirk on his face. “Beg me.”

“Five…please…you feel SO…FUCKING…GOOD!”

The angle of his cock thrusting inside of you, along with his body trapping you beneath him, was more intense than anything you had ever experienced before. You were on the verge of coming; your cries becoming louder while you desperately tried to suck air into your lungs. The sting of his dick drilling inside of you was still not enough to mask the pleasure that was building. It hurt but you still wanted more.

Soon, that inevitable feeling of warmth and tightness formed in your core and you let go with a loud scream that echoed off the walls of his bedroom. Your body convulsed under his as his hips stilled against your ass when he expelled himself one more time. The groan that left him as he came was loud and long, leaving his arms shaking as he held himself over you.

After he was able to move off of you, you continued to catch your breath as you rolled over to face him. Five was kneeling on the bed, chest glistening with sweat and heaving as he flipped his hair out of his eyes. He didn’t say a word, but after a few more seconds, he climbed off the bed to dispose of the condom. You eyed him nervously. You had no idea how he was going to react, or if he was already regretting everything.

After tugging his boxers back on, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you ok?” he asked, his voice tight.

You nodded and sat up. “Yeah, I’m ok, why?”

Five shook his head. “I was way too rough, I shouldn’t have…but you…” he trailed off, his frustration with himself evident. “Look, you got your way. This is done now, alright?”

With a roll of your eyes, you moved off the bed so that you were standing in front of him; the muscles in your sticky thighs aching from the movement. “Get over yourself, Five. We both wanted this, so stop pretending I put some spell on you to make you change your mind.”

He was silent, but he nodded, a brief flicker of a smile forming on his lips. “I’m sorry about your clothes.” He got up to grab a t-shirt from one of his drawers and handed it to you. “You can wear this; it should be enough to cover everything.”

As you worked the too-big shirt over your head, Five pulled his pants back on, zipping them up but leaving the belt hanging open. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a small, balled up pair of women’s underwear. With a guilty smile, he tossed them over to you. “Here.”

You laughed in disbelief. “You stole my panties? What were you going to do with them?”

Five shrugged. “I hadn’t figured that out yet.”

Shaking your head, you looked down at them in your hand. “Such a dirty old man.” Glancing back at Five’s guilty face, you threw them back, and he caught them against his chest. “Keep them. I kind of like the idea of you doing weird things with them.”

Five made no comment, but he tucked them back into his pants pocket with a lop-sided grin. He held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll blink you back to your apartment so you don’t have to go back in just a t-shirt.”

You thought for a second, but shook your head. “No thanks. I don’t mind a good walk of shame now and then.”

As Five walked you to the door, you gave him a lingering kiss and trailed a hand down his arm. “Maybe the next time I make too much food, I’ll come over and share it? Think you can handle that?”

A smile slowly spread across Five’s face and he nodded. “Yeah, I think I can handle that.”

Then he watched as you walked away, wearing nothing but his t-shirt. He shook his head, not quite believing what had just occurred. He had thought he was so damn smart with his moral high-ground and superiority. But as it turned out, you had gotten the best of him. He lost at his own game. Tucking two fingers inside his pocket to stroke the silky material of your panties, he smiled to himself, thinking about how this may have been the first time in his life that he hadn’t minded losing.

Hey, Jealously

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x reader

summary: fiyero had been entranced by you since his first day at shiz university, but you never gave him the time of day. So, how was it that a munchkin boy you didn’t even know was making you laugh in the corner of the library?

warning: none

word count: 2.5k

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The grin that Fiyero was attempting to maintain across his features was beginning to ache. Had he been paying attention to anything but the two figures all the way across the library, he would have noticed how his clearly plastered-on smile was beginning to have his peers that sat around him begin to glance nervously at one another.

And he would have been aware of the way his left eye twitched ever so slightly.

“Are you alright?” One of the girls in front of him timidly asked, eyes scanning over his features in caution. He had been the one to approach their table, swagger in his step and hands in his pockets, yet he had barely gotten two words out to them before his attention had snagged on something across the room and he went silent.

“Hm?” The boy was still yet to pull his attention away from the two classmates that were huddled close together at a table tucked into the corner, giggling inaudibly. Fieryo seemed to snap out of it suddenly, head turning back to his peers, “Why, yes. I’m quite alright.”

This made the girls glance uneasily at one another, seeing as his borderline scary smile was still resting eerily upon his features.

Another one of the girls cleared her throat from beside him, boldly leaning forward and placing her hand delicately on top of his forearm that rested against the table, “Are you certain-”

“If you’ll excuse me.” It was almost as if the prince was oblivious to his blatantly rude attitude as he all but shrugged off the girl's touch and began striding across the room, where he had once more set his gaze upon the thing that had made his breath hitch upon first sight.

You were sat down beside a munchkin boy that- despite your best efforts- you could not for the life of you remember the name of.

Earlier that day in one of your classes, you had been paired with him for a project and while you had never spoken to him before, he had approached you after class with a good-natured joke that had made you laugh and immediately warm up to him.

Even as you wracked your brain tirelessly during the walk from the halls outside of the classroom to the library, you had been yet to come up with a name that went with his face. And as horrible as you felt about it, you knew it would be worse asking for a refresher, seeing as you had been zoning out when the professor was assigning the partners and you had been driven into a near frenzy when you hadn’t heard the name of yours.

He was intelligent and kind, though, and you did not mind working with him in the slightest. There were much worse partners you could have gotten paired with during the class.

A throat cleared from above the two of you, causing both of your eyes to shift upwards, “Hello, darling.” The owner of the voice warmly greeted.

Speak of the devil. Or the prince.

The boy that stood above the pair of you was the one you had initially been dreading that you had been paired with. Fiyero.

Ever since he joined part way into the school year, the menace would not leave you alone. You had met during his first night, having accidentally ran into him- literally- whilst you were hurrying back from the library to your dorm, and your books had been sent flying every which way.

Though he had immediately apologized and dropped to his knees beside you to help you pick up your scattered belongings, what he did next was what sent off the alarm bells in your head.

As if he hadn’t even glanced at you before trying to pick up your books, when he went to hand you one, he froze all together, arm partially outstretched. His eyes locked on yours and his lips had parted slightly.

All you did was raise a singular brow at him, internally concerned that you had some leftover dinner residue on your face, and that seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he had been sent into.

“Why, hello there,” He titled his head to the side, a charming smile blooming on his face, “My name is Prince Fiyero Tigelaar, darling. What’s yours?”

You knew who he was- of course you did- he was all anyone had been talking about for the last seven hours since he had arrived. And of course, that also meant that you knew you weren’t the first one he was trying to charm.

Setting your jaw, you had quietly murmured your name before quickly scooping up the rest of your books, thanking him quickly before scurrying off on your way without a glance back in his direction.

Turned out, stubbornness was one of his- many, in your opinion- annoying traits.

He was quick to rise to his feet as well, striding after you until you were hurrying along together side by side, “Late for an appointment, are we?” He teased, an easy smile resting on his features now.

All it took was a quick, sidelong glare from you to have the smile dropping from his features, confusion replacing it.

“Save it.” You snipped, arms tightening around your books. You were unwilling to allow yourself to fall into the same trap that so many of your peers already had. That trap being five foot eleven and currently had a frown pulling at his features.

“I don’t understand-” He tried speaking.

“Shocker.” Came your interruption with a roll of your eyes.

He stopped walking all together after that, staring after you with a look that resembled a kicked- puppy.

To be honest, you had thought that night was your first and last ever interaction with Fiyero, but apparently, you were wrong. So very wrong.

After that night, Fiyero had apparently made it his life's mission to figure out why you hated him- none of the other students did, so what did he do that was so bad to you?

Whether it was sitting next to you in the dining hall uninvited and talking your ear off, or waiting in the halls for you after every class- even the ones he wasn’t in with you- and walking alongside you to wherever your next destination was, it was like you couldn’t shake him no matter what you did.

Despite your best efforts not to, over time, you had become accustomed to his constant presence. Slowly, you had found yourself despising his companionship less and less, but you still refused to throw yourself at his feet like all of your other classmates did.

You weren’t oblivious, you saw the way he flirted with many other students when he wasn’t directly by your side, and because of that, you would not allow yourself to fall so easily like they had.

“What do you want, Tigelaar?” You droned in unamusement, crossing your arms over your chest and gazed up at the boy with eyebrows raised, waiting.

Gone from your features was the soft laughter that he had noticed lingering across the room as the munchkin boy from beside you had said words Fiyero- much to his annoyance- could not hear.

What was he saying to make you smile like that? To make you laugh?

Fiyero wasn’t oblivious either. He was surprisingly observant when it came to you, actually.

He was in the class that the partners had been assigned in, sat in the back with his fingers crossed tightly under the desk in hopes that your names would get called together. Being that he was in the back of the classroom, he had a perfect view of you, in the front, constantly scribbling down notes and drinking in everything the professor was saying.

Because of this, he also knew that you hadn’t a single clue who the boy next to you was before this evening.

So how could he be bringing a smile out of you when Fiyero had never been able to do so himself?

“Well?” Apparently the currently brooding prince had been silent for too long, leaving impatience to seep from your tone and the munchkin boy to glance between the two of you.

As if he hadn’t missed a beat, he beamed down at you, a light in his eye that wasn’t forced in the slightest as he gazed upon you, “Can’t I just drop by to see how you’re doing?”

If anything, you only began to eye him more wearily after the words came out of his mouth, “You’re acting weirder than normal.” You commented.

The quiet boy beside you apparently decided that was the moment to break his silence as he cleared his throat, “We’re working on our project for magical theory. You’re in that class with us, aren’t you? Who's your partner? I clearly lucked out with mine.” He chuckled, placing a hand against your forearm as he spoke, seeming to not even notice that he had done so.

The grip on your arm wasn’t bruising, but it was firm. Almost as if it were meant to send a sign.

Both you and Fieyro noticed, however. Two pairs of eyes snapped to the unwelcomed hand on your arm. Whilst your gaze remained there, Fieyro’s blue orbs drifted up to your face, immediately taking notice of the first signs of uncomfort that crossed your features- albeit briefly and almost unnoticeably.

“May I speak with you, darling?” His mouth was opening and the words were tumbling out in an instant without a single thought going into it as the prince stuck a hand out for you.

Under any other circumstance, you would have stared at him as if he had grown another head or laughed in his face, but the discomfort and surprise from being touched without consent by a boy you didn’t even know the name of seemed to have all logic flying out of your head as you didn’t even hesitate to grab Fiyero’s hand- much gentler than the munchkin boys was against your skin- as he softly helped you to your feet before imminently leading you down the closest row of bookshelves, not stopping until you were both concealed from sight.

The moment the two of you stopped walking, Fieyero turned around to face you, eyes filled with softness and concern, “Are you alright, love?” He asked tenderly.

It was only then that you realized he was still gingerly holding your hand in his, and you quickly slipped out of his grasp, maneuvering your arms to cross over your stomach.

You swallowed thickly then nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine.” You then shook your head a little, laughinging lightly, “I’m being so overdramatic right now, aren’t I? He didn’t even mean to touch me, I bet. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, either. It was just my arm.”

Fieryo’s gaze never once wavered from your own as you rambled, not cutting you off as he allowed you to finish getting your words out before he said, “It’s not being overdramatic if he made you uncomfortable just then. He had no right to touch you without you saying so.”

Another humorless laugh left your lips as you ran a hand through your hair, in disbelief with yourself, before you closed your eyes and sighed, “I should go back and apologize, that was rude of me.”

Before you could even fully turn on your heels, however, a gentle hand caught your wrist, a hold that could very easily be broken by you if you so wished, but it surprised you enough to stop.

As you turned to face Fiyero, his mouth snapped shut, almost as if he had forgotten anything he was going to say.

“What happened to me giving consent to others touching me?” The words were meant as a light hearted joke- something you had never done with the boy in front of you- but it had caused his eyes to imminently widen as he dropped your wrist and took a large stepped back, sputtering out apologies. This time, the soft laugh you let out was for real, “I was kidding.”

Fiyero blinked at you in surprise, “Oh.” Was the only thing he seemed to be able to say.

You cleared your throat, shuffling slightly closer to him, “Hey, thanks for saving me back there. You didn’t have to do that.”

Confusion overtook his features and he quickly shook his head, “Of course I did, please don’t thank me for it.”

Concealed by the shadows of the shelves around you and immersed in the unwavering gaze of Fiyero- away from all of the prying eyes of your peers- you suddenly felt vulnerable. You shuffled your feet back and forth slightly, “It’s not like I deserved it, though. I’ve never been anything but mean to you.”

Of that, you knew for certain. You had been so dead-set on not falling for the same trap as your classmates that you were openly rude to the boy you didn’t want to fall for. There had always been a bit of lingering guilt over that fact within you, but you had always felt as if you were too far gone to go back on it.

A grin suddenly split across his lips as you spoke, admittedly the last reaction you would have thought him to have over those words, “I’ve always kind of admired it, actually.”

It was then your turn for confusion, “Admired?” You questioned.

He shrugged a singular shoulder and you were suddenly aware of how close you two had subconsciously shuffled as he reached up and ever so gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Everywhere I’ve ever gone, people would do anything to win my favor simply because I’m a prince. I’ve quite enjoyed being treated like an outsider by you, as a matter of fact. Made things fun, and like I had to work to earn your favor.” He was speaking softly now.

A shy smile slowly spread across your lips, “Really?”

He nodded, “Really.”

A silence encapsulated to two of you for moments following as you stared at one another, a newfound admiration coming over you as well. Slowly- oh so slowly- the two of you began to lean into the already small space separating you.

Fiyero’s eyes were open, searching yours to see if you were truly okay with what was about to happen, and you answered by pressing your lips gently against his.

The two of you moved in sync and it took a few moments for you to pull away, and when you did, your chests were heaving up and down as you stared at one another with wide eyes, excitement and adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Just as the prince leaned in once more, you leaned back to halt his movements, “I should probably go reschedule to project-”

Fiyero cut you off by kissing you once more, “You don’t even know his name.” He muttered against your lips, “Let me have you all to myself for a just a little bit longer.”

A giggle escaped your lips- a true laugh- at his words and you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled the two of you impossibly closer than you already were.

your fiyero | fiyero tigelaar x reader

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader Summary: Ever since Fiyero Tigelaar started at Shiz University, he found himself fascinated by you – the one student who didn't care about him. When he notices you starting to struggle with something, he'll do anything to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of fainting, falling over, academic stress/burn out Word Count: 2.2k A/N: I've seen Wicked (the show) three times now with the amazing Australian cast that's currently touring and I fell totally head over heels with Fiyero, and then yesterday I saw the movie and fell even more in love with Fiyero and so I had to write for him. I do intend to write more for him, especially if other people want to read more! He's so fun to write for and definitely a challenge compared to some other characters I've written for in the past. I hope you all enjoy! 💗

It’s not difficult to sense the presence of Fiyero Tigelaar behind you as you leave Doctor Dillamond’s classroom, shoving your books into the bag over your shoulder. With the way the students heading into the classroom are staring at someone behind you, it’s quite obvious who they’re staring at. Everyone at Shiz University wants Fiyero Tigelaar. 

Everyone, that is, except you.

“Classes are over, you know?” Fiyero’s voice comes from behind you as you round the corner, heading down the staircase leading to the courtyard. “You don’t have to rush off.”

Irritatingly, the fact that you can’t particularly care less about wanting Fiyero Tigelaar makes himwant you. He usually isn’t the type. If someone doesn’t like him – something he’s actually yet to experience – he would just let it slide. Why waste his energy? But ever since he’d started at Shiz and met you, he’d found himself unable to leave you alone. 

“I know,” you glance back at him over your shoulder. “But some of us actually want to study and spend their time here learning, Tigelaar.”

Fiyero hurries his steps a little so he’s walking alongside you. “Did you miss the part where I said it was my job to corrupt my fellow students when I started here? It’s never too late, darling.” He flashes a grin your way.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, right at the same time you almost miss a step and stumble a little. Fiyero is quick, catching your elbow to help steady you. You don’t look at him as you steady yourself, meaning you miss the look of worry in his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

You clear your throat and shake off his grip. “Consider me corrupted by your presence.” 

With that, you make a beeline away from him and you’re glad to notice that he doesn’t attempt to follow you. You highly doubt that he’s going to follow you all the way to the library. Fiyero and the library have never exactly gone hand in hand. 

~~

The next time Fiyero bothers you, you’re sat on one of the benches by the gardens. There’s a book in your hands and he can see you staring intently at it as he saunters over to you. It’s almost like he’s approaching a wild bird or something, he thinks. If he moves too quickly, he’ll frighten you and scare you away. It’s the last thing Fiyero wants to do.

He’s a few steps away from you when you look up from your book and meet his eyes. His face breaks into a smile as he moves the last few steps and takes the spot beside you on the bench. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows raised. 

“Now, don’t say I’m interrupting your study,” he begins. “That book is most definitely not in the curriculum. And yes, I did actually take the time to look the curriculum up after I saw you reading here the other day, if you can believe it.”

For a few moments, you only stare at him. Fiyero, for the first time probably ever, finds himself actually a little uncomfortable at your unwavering gaze. It surprises him. He’s never the type of person to feel uncomfortable. He’s confident in almost every situation.

You let out a sigh. “It may not be in the curriculum, but you’ve interrupted me nevertheless, Tigelaar.”

“Apologies,” he says, with a small smirk. “Am I corrupting you even more with my presence?”

“Something like that.” You close your book and sit it on the small space of bench beside you. You had actually just been reading the same page over and over for the last twenty minutes and trying to convince yourself to stop overthinking things. 

You had so much studying to do, so much to learn and so many assignments to do and so little time to do it all. It was probably a little counterproductive to be sitting outside, reading a book and doing none of those things, but if you didn’t try and have a break from them all, you were pretty sure you were going to burn yourself out, which was the last thing you needed. It would have helped if you’d actually been able to relax and enjoy your book, though.

“Is it any good? Your book. Not that I’d read it, of course,” Fiyero grins.

You try your best to conceal your amusement. “I’d offer to lend it to you but, as you said, you wouldn’t actually read it so… I’ll keep it safe with me. I doubt the Winkie Prince knows how to properly take care of books if he can’t read them.”

Fiyero gasps jokingly. “I’ll have you know I can read, I just choose not to. I prefer to fill my brain with much more useless things. That way, I don’t have to think. It’s a peaceful way to live, my darling.” 

You shake your head, this time unable to keep a smile off of your face. Fiyero likes the sight of it. It strangely makes his heart beat a little faster. He can’t actually remember the last time he saw you smiling… not that he’s been keeping track. 

“How about you join me?” He offers. “No more studying for the rest of the day and no more thinking? I’m positive I could find something we could do to fill the time.” 

The reminder of studying, however, brings you back to reality after you small moment of joking with Fiyero. You reach down and grab your book before standing up and turning to face Fiyero, who is looking at you with slight concern in his eyes at your sudden movement.

“I can’t,” you say simply. “I’ve been reading all morning and there is a lot I have to do. I’ll see you around, Tigelaar.”

He watches you with furrowed eyebrows as you walk away from him, clutching your book to your chest and heading in the direction of the library. Fiyero shakes his head and lets out a small laugh. He really thought today would be the day he’d win you over.

~~

A week goes by without Fiyero even getting to utter a word to you. He sees you, though, fairly often around the school. In the courtyard, in the library (where he definitely didn’t go specifically looking for you), in history class and in the dining hall. But every time he’s thought to approach you, you’ve disappeared before he could even make his move. It’s on the seventh day when he notices that something is different about you.

You’re coming out of the library, carrying several books and what looks like a stack of papers in your hands when you trip. Fiyero isn’t quick enough to cross the courtyard and get to you in time to stop your fall. He does, however, take off at a run to be by your side as you start collecting all of the scattered pieces of paper and books that had fallen out of your grasp.

“It’s all right, Tigelaar. You don’t have to help me,” you mutter, trying to shove books into your already overfilled bag. “It’s a Friday night. I’m sure you’ve got other places to be.”

Fiyero, truthfully, does have other places to be. He’s been invited to the Ozdust Ballroom by nine separate people today. But how can he leave you to just clean all this up by yourself? He can see just by the look on your face that you’re utterly exhausted.

“I do,” he says honestly. “But I’ll help you with this first.”

He’s surprised when you suddenly stop putting things in your bag and when he looks up, he finds you staring at him again. It makes him uncomfortable in the same way he felt last week when you’d looked at him in a similar way. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Your lack of energy in fighting him is the second thing to make Fiyero realise something is wrong.

After the two of you finish picking up all of the things you’d dropped, the both of you stand. Fiyero opens his mouth to say something when he notices you start to sway. He’s quicker this time, moving to catch you before you fall. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you steady, while his other hand takes the book bag off your shoulder and moves it straight onto his. He’s surprised by how heavy it is. 

“Woah, darling, what’s going on?” Fiyero looks down at you as you blink and push yourself away from him. “Hey, be careful, okay? I think you were just about to faint.”

You shake your head. “I just stood up too fast, that’s all.” You know the words are a lie, and you can tell that Fiyero knows that as well. First, he’d seen you trip coming out of the library, then he’d caught you when you’d almost fainted… you can’t hide it from him. That much becomes crystal clear immediately.

“Let’s get you somewhere you can sit down, okay?” Fiyero begins. “May I?” He gestures to you, asking silently if he can wrap an arm around you to support you incase you fall over again. 

You nod and allow him to guide you just around the corner into the small seating area off to the side of the library. It’s dark, the lanterns not being lit yet despite the fact that the sun had gone down over twenty minutes ago.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy,” you say sheepishly. “That’s twice you’ve stopped me from falling in the last two weeks… I suppose I should say thank you, Fiyero.”

Fiyero sits you down gently on the bench and sits your book bag down on the ground. He crouches down in front of you and reaches up to take your hands in his. He’s surprised when you don’t immediately pull away from him. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my first name before.”

“Oh,” you think on it for a second, trying to ignore the warm feeling of his hands and how comforting it is. “I guess I haven’t. Sorry, Tigelaar.”

“No, no,” Fiyero shakes his head. “Don’t go back to that. I like when you call me Fiyero.”

“Well, I suppose it is your name,” you offer a small smile.

“There’s that gorgeous smile,” Fiyero smiles back at you and squeezes your hands. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you almost just fainted on me and why you’re clumsier than you usually are, darling?”

You stay silent for a few moments and just when Fiyero begins to think that you might just brush him off and try to make a quick exit like you did last week, you start to speak.

“I haven’t really been sleeping well lately,” you admit quietly. “I’ve had so much work to do, I fell behind on my assignments and I took on some extra work from Doctor Dillamond and… despite my best efforts, I guess I let myself get a little burnt out.”

Fiyero looks at you with his eyes full of pity and you hate it. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “that’s not important. Why would you care?”

Your attempt to make light of the situation fails spectacularly, judging by the look that Fiyero gives you afterwards. You’ve never seen him look that unimpressed before. 

“Of course I care,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why, though?” You can’t help but ask. “Why are you so fixated on me?”

Fiyero sighs and moves to sit beside you, letting go of your hands in the process. “If you’ll allow me to be honest with you for a moment,” he starts, “I suppose… you’re the only person at Shiz that doesn’t treat me like the perfect Winkie Prince that everyone thinks I am. You’re the only person that doesn’t think I’m perfect, and half the time you act like you can’t stand to be around me, and for some reason that only makes me want to be around you more.” 

“Are you not the perfect Winkie Prince?” You ask.

Fiyero grins. “Oh, not in the slightest, darling. But let’s keep that between us. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine. How does that sound?” 

You don’t even try to hide the smile that comes to your face at his words. “You promise you won’t tell anyone about what happened today?”

“I promise,” he nods. “But only on one condition: you tell Doctor Dillamond you can’t complete the extra work you signed up for and you take a break to make sure you get plenty of rest before diving into your other assignments. I’m sure I can sweet talk some of the Professors if you need help.” 

He smiles as you hit him with the same look as before, but for the first time, he doesn’t find himself feeling uncomfortable at the sight of it. Now, he finds it slightly amusing and incredibly endearing. He has always found you endearing, he supposes.

“Sweet talking my Professors will not be necessary,” you chuckle. “But okay. It’s a deal. And I’ll keep your secret too. You can continue to be the perfect Winkie Prince to everyone… except me.”

Fiyero laughs. “I’ll just be your Fiyero, then.”

“My Fiyero?” You repeat after him, eyebrows raised. 

He ignores the way his heart beats faster at the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. 

“Yes, your Fiyero,” he hums. 

“Everyone will think that you finally corrupted me after all this time,” you joke, voice teasing. “I’ll just be like everyone else at Shiz. Part of the Fiyero Tigelaar fan club.”

Fiyero fixes you with a look. “Oh, darling. You could never be like everyone else.” 

Lonely ♡ L Lawliet

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ L Lawliet x Fem!Wife!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Author's Note: UNEDITED! Established relationship between L and the reader. This is the first smut I have ever written, so pleaseeeeee be patient with me. I'm just a baby writer (I'm over 18. Don't take this literally). If you find any more warnings I should list, please let me know! I don't own any characters or images!

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Summary: It's lonely being the wife of the greatest detective in the world, especially when he's not the best at showing affection. However, something seems different about him today.

Word Count: 2533

Warnings: Sexual content, themes of loneliness, slight angst, OOC L, Fem! oral receiving, penetration, unprotected intercourse, light breeding kink, praise, begging, daddy kink, creampie.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you married him. You knew there would be many nights when he wouldn't come home. You knew there were some compromises you would have to make. Still, it took its toll on you over the years.

It felt like he married you out of convenience. You met young, and you fell so deeply in love with L the moment you saw him. Maybe it was his wit, or the deep charming look in his eyes. All your friends teased your obvious, painful crush on him. You didn't care. Your heart was set from the moment you met him.

The day he approached you and asked you to marry him was the happiest day of your life. You readily agreed without a second thought. You didn't pause to question why he asked. You didn't ponder about the fact you had only a handful of interactions.

"After much observation, I had determined that you will make an exceptional spouse." That's what L always told you when you would ask why. It was true. On the rare occasion that your husband was home, he had a nice meal waiting for him. He had a clean home and a made bed. It was a practical relationship.

He gave you affection, of course, but it always seemed like a chore to him. There were only a handful of times the two of you had been intimate. He never fully seemed to give himself to you, and the loneliness began to weigh you down.

A quick buzz sounded from your phone. You pull yourself off the couch, stretching a bit before checking the notification. It was a text from your husband. He was on his way home, after a week of being caught up in his work and sleeping at the office again. Despite all your conflicting feelings, butterflies fill your stomach. You love your husband. That has never changed.

You rush yourself to the kitchen. Early in your marriage, you'd managed to learn how to make his favorite desserts. You began to slave away over the counters, wanting to give your best effort. L was rarely ever home, so when he was, you gave it your all.

You hear the front door open. He's home much faster than you had anticipated. The desserts you were working on are still baking. You hadn't had time to get ready. Your hair was a mess, your clothes covered in creams and flour, and no makeup. You see L round the corner into the kitchen before his eyes land on you.

"Welcome home, Sweetheart." You say with a chuckle. "You came so much quicker than I thought you would. I haven't had time to finish my cooking or clean myself up."

L is silent, his gaze fixed on you. You grow nervous, fearing his disapproval. He seems tense or frustrated. You have trouble telling what's going on in his mind. He nearly never opens up about his feelings to you.

"Is everything alright? You seem... quiet." You comment, wiping your hands and approaching your husband. "Is everything going alright at work?"

"I want to have intercourse," Your eyes widen as L finally speaks. There were not the words you were expecting to hear. Not even a greeting. Straight to the point. "With you, of course."

"W-Well, no duh with me! I'd sure hope so!" You choke out, growing embarrassed. "What's this about? You seem off, Sweetheart. What's going on?"

"I love you." L says suddenly. He had only said this once before, on your wedding day, and you hardly believed that. It only felt as though it was part of his vows. You were always the more affectionate one, expressing your love without expecting any response.

"I... I love you too." You mutter, shocked by this sudden declaration. "W-What's going on, L. Seriously. If something is wrong, I need to know. I want to help."

"I know you do. You always have." L gives you a rare smirk, awkwardly wrapping his arms around you. Hugs were given on occasion, but this felt different. You could hear his heart beating out of his chest as you lay your head against him. "You have always been my greatest ally, Y/N. I realize that my appreciation for you goes unspoken more often than not. I would like to have intercourse, as a display of my gratitude and affection for you."

You look up at him, scanning his expression. It's comforting to feel his embrace. It's something you rarely get to experience. Yet, you feel this must be too good to be true.

"Darling, you don't have to do anything like that for me to know that you appreciate me, or that you care." Although, in the past year, you truly haven't felt appreciated or loved. You've felt more like a maid than anything.

"Y/N, I want you." He says, in a tone that sounds like a nearly frustrated whine. It's a sound you have never heard before. Still, everything indicates that he is speaking the truth.

He hesitates for a moment before leaning down to meet you face to face. His hands reach to your chin, tilting your head slightly. It's almost as if he's inspecting your face. Just as you are about to ask what he is doing, his lips land on yours.

Your husband was never fond of kissing. He was disgusted by the idea of sharing saliva. Yet, here you were, squeaking in surprise as his tongue forced his way into your mouth. You relax into the kiss. It's soft, and passionate. Your heartbeat practically echoes throughout the room as your excitement increases.

His hands find their way to your waist. He rubs circles on your skin and toys with the fabric of your shirt. You lean into him, your hands roaming his surprisingly toned chest. When you first married, he was much scrawnier than he is now. The thought of your wedding fills your heart with joy.

It was a small ceremony. Private. Very few people knew. Still, you felt as though you were the luckiest girl in the world. When those doors finally opened and L laid his eyes on you, you could've sworn you saw him tear up.

"You are arousing." He whispers in your ear, snapping you out of your pleasant memories. His hands snake under your shirt and gently trace your bare skin. "Even such minimal contact with you can cause a physical reaction."

You look down to see the outline of a very large bulge through L's sweatpants. His arms wrap at your hips, picking you up off the ground. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His erection prods against you. He carries you to your bedroom, gently placing you onto the bed. His dominance and affection are unusual, but very much welcome.

"Do I have your consent to remove your clothes and proceed with intercourse?" You chuckle at his formality. You've known him so long. He's seen every part of you. Yet, something still makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Yes, Lawliet. You do." With that, his hands swiftly move to your pants, sliding them off your hips, down your thighs, and finally off your body entirely. He kneels against the side of the bed, peppering kisses on your skin.

Beforehand, intimacy felt somewhat cold and distant. He had always kept your enjoyment in mind, but had never shown so much affection as he had been showing now.

You feel your arousal pooling as his kisses make their way higher and higher, his thumb teasing at the waistline of your panties. He hooks his index finger around them, slowly pulling them down.

"My, someone is eager." He jokes, his hands positioning your thighs over his shoulders. "Open wide for me, Princess." Simply the sound of his husky voice calling you an affectionate pet name would've made your heart race. What makes your heart nearly explode was the feeling of his tongue swiping a line up your wet core. You let out a shaky breath as he continues, lapping up your arousal.

At first, he is slow and delicate. This is something you had never done before. L was never a fan of foreplay. He enjoyed getting straight to the point. However, as small whimpers and moans escaped your throat, his intensity increased. He grew desperate to hear more, devouring you like an animal. Your thighs squeezed around his head, but this did not stop him. His tongue continued to make your mind go cloudy. Soon, you felt your climax approaching.

"L-Lawliet!" You whimper, moans cascading from your mouth like a waterfall. "I can't take much more!" Your hands, which once gripped the bedsheets, travel to your husband's unruly hair. You tug it lightly, causing him to grunt. His nails dig into your waist as he continues.

Soon, you find yourself releasing on his face with a loud moan. He licks up your liquids and you squeak as his tongue passes back over your most sensitive parts.

Your husband stands, his chest heaving as he undresses. Any remaining garments of yours are shed quickly as well. The moment feels so intimate, and vulnerable. You reach towards the nightstand. With how infrequently you and your husband would have intercourse, you find it somewhat pointless to consistently take birth control. Instead, your primary contraceptive was now condoms. However, L's hand stops you at your wrist.

"I want to have a child. Would this be acceptable to you?" He asks, gently, his eyes never leaving yours. This feels like such a sudden development. L had never expressed interest in having a family before. However, this was something you had been hoping for since the beginning. Tears of joy fill your eyes as you nod. "May I have your verbal confirmation?"

"Of course, my Love." You say quickly, as if the opportunity will pass you by. "I'd want nothing more, but where is this coming from?" Your husband smiles as he leans over your frame, his arms on either side of you.

"I have found myself thinking of you more and more often. The idea of protecting and providing for you has always been in my mind. Yet, in the past few weeks, I have been craving your warmth under the pressure of my current case." L says softly. You listen intently. He has rarely ever opened up about his feelings. Especially not about your relationship. "I do not mean physical warmth in this context. Although, that is something I have missed. I am referring to your overwhelming domesticity and optimism. You are comforting."

"I find you comforting too." Your hand cups his cheek. He nods, happy with your response as he lifts your right leg ever so slightly, positioning himself at your entrance. You look down, spotting his throbbing cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip. You didn't think it possible to become more aroused than you already were, but here you felt your heart race faster and your face grow warmer. He teases you, rubbing himself against your wetness. "Please, Baby." You groan, earning a hitch in breath from L.

He pushes himself in slowly, feeling your warm walls squeeze around his as he bottoms out. He exhales a shaky breath, his nails clawing at the sheets and his eyes squeezed shut. He fears that if he opens his eyes and sees you beneath him, he wouldn't last.

"You take me so well." His voice is low, and he finally opens his eyes. He has given you a few moments to adjust, and he begins to pump in and out of you.

His thrusts are slow and loving at first as he praises you, peppering you with kisses. As your moans and whimpers grow louder, his thrusts pick up in speed, like he's feeding off your pleasure. The sounds of wet slapping skin fill the room, accompanied with L's occasional labored breaths and grunts. Your legs are wrapped around his hips, and your nails scratch into his back. You can tell your husband is getting closer to his climax, as his thrusts become more animalistic and sloppier.

"That's my good girl." He growls as your walls tighten; you're getting closer to your release as well. You whimper, his name slipping from your lips. This only seems to send him further into depravity, as he lets out a loud groan and a hand grabs at your ass.

"I-I'm so close-" You whimper as your husband presses into your sweet spot over and over again. His pace slows down, his eyes laced with desire.

"Beg for it. Beg to cum for me, or I will stop." You don't dare test or tease him. You know that he absolutely has the self-control to stop right then and there. Your legs tighten around his hips.

"No! Please! Don't stop, L. Please, I need this so bad. Please, let me cum. You make me feel so good Daddy." Though you had never called him this before, it seemed to unlock something within him. His thrusts become faster than you can handle, and your orgasm begins to wash over you. "A-Ah! Please! Right there!"

"Fuck." He whispers, lowering his head beside yours. You can hear his subtle cursing and growls right in your ear. Your mind fogs as you reach your climax, biting down on his shoulder as you cum on his cock. "G-Gonna cum-" He does so soon after, emptying himself out inside you with a couple extra thrusts.

He takes a moment to catch his breath before collapsing onto the bed beside you. The glimmer of sweat on his bare chest is truly a sight to see. Somehow, his hair managed to get even messier than it usually is. You giggle, happy to see your husband in such a vulnerable state.

"I hope you found this satisfactory." He turns to you, his eyes shining with affection and adoration. You turn on your side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

"What's gotten into you?" You ask, tracing doodles on his body with your finger. He hums, thinking of a proper way to answer your question. "You're very affectionate today."

"There are a pair of individuals I have been observing for a time. They go by the names of Light Yagami and Misa Amane. Miss Amane is quite affectionate with Mr. Yagami. However, I notice that he often will not return this sentiment. She is left unsatisfied and desperate for any crumb of attention from Light." L turns to you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. "I do not desire to do the same to you. I do love you, Y/N. Since the day I met you. I would like to have a family with you. I would like to be more present. I want you to feel the love I have for you."

You smile, hugging his tightly. You try to hold the tears in your eyes. You've always been relatively confident that he cared for you and loved you. He just shows his affection a little differently. Yet, his concern for your happiness filled a loneliness you'd refused to acknowledge for a long time.

"I love you too."

Dueling Fates.

Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: Anakin really, really wants to win for once.

Warnings: 18+ definitely smut. Minors DNI or I’ll find you and bite you. Hatefucking (?), reader gets dominated, vulnerability, name calling, restraint, hair pulling, neck kisses, biting, honestly the works.

A/N: This is my first smut in years and i got a bit carried away with the lead up cuz im a sl*t for tension and foreplay and i had to cut it short but i’m pretty proud of this for my first time back. I’m sorry if i made any mistakes, i proofread but mistakes happen! Thanks for reading <3 Enjoy filthy Anakin.

Word count: 3.1K (I know it’s long I got excited.)

Anakin wasn’t a sore loser, not by his definition at least. He just knew he could do better. That’s why when he lost against you again in a sparring session something began to boil his blood. He stood up and stared at you for a moment, you knew what that look meant.

“Again.” He spoke sternly, not at all to your surprise. His lightsaber was still ignited and held in front of him with shaking, frustrated hands. His eyes were glazed over as if possessed by the idea of winning. This had been your third session together and prior to you two partnering up you had been training for 4 hours.

“I’ve been at this for hours I would much rather go eat than tend to your bruised ego, Skywalker.” You put your lightsaber in its rightful spot on your hip and looked up at him with your arms crossed.

It was true that Anakin rarely lost but almost every time he did, it was to you. If you had a scoreboard to keep track, it wouldn’t look good for him. You were older by two years and therefore had more experience. Not by much, but enough to make a difference. He was strong, big, and extremely quick with his reflexes but you were small, agile, and had levels of pattern recognition too high for him to catch you off guard. All his best traits came to your advantage and he hated it.

“Cut the bullshit. I know you’ve got one more in you.” He spoke, his eyes looked your tired frame up and down. You didn’t, in fact, have one more in you but you still agreed. Your legs were hurting in places you didn’t think they could and your arms were burning so badly they might as well have been dipped in lava.

“Fine.” You muttered as you neared him, taking your spot across from him at the training ring. You readied your lightsaber and the sound of it igniting filled your ears. His expressions were small, almost unnoticeable, but you could see how riled up he was in the small movements of his lip twitching and his eyes flickering from you to your lightsaber. You knew your mind wasn’t in it, your Master would have sent you to bed at the sight of you and you knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t encourage Anakin in the state he was in, as well.

A hint of something flashed across his face when you agreed and that settled the feeling you had, this would not be an easy one. The rivalry you two had was nothing more than friendly competition in the eyes of most but truth be told you were both too similar and stubborn, and it really did feel like you were truly enemies sometimes.

“Any day now, Y/L/N.” He spoke in that cocky tone that made you want to slash his head clean off his neck. You tightened your grip and swung first, the sound of your lightsabers clashing echoed through the large, now empty room. This was the best way to do it, offensive to start, swinging so he had the confidence that he could block your blows. Then when you began to feel even the slightest bit of exhaustion you’d play the defense, which was your specialty, until he spent himself. The rest? Too easy.

Your legs, while in pain, moved quickly. You dodged and rolled away from him multiple times. You enjoyed the feeling of him having to come to you, in the same way a dog owner experiences contentment when their dog obeys their commands.

You didn’t know what happened. You didn’t even know how it happened in the moment. He swung directly down your middle and you blocked him, pushing him back with a grunt. The noise he made in response was almost animalistic. It shocked you for just a fraction of a second but he swung and your block was delayed. He didn’t expect it and neither did you so when the swing connected to your leg you both froze. His reaction time, bless the Maker for it, was quick enough for him to stop before he melted your leg clean off but not quick enough to prevent it from grazing you.

You staggered back, retracting your lightsaber. Not a word left either of your mouths for a few seconds, though it felt more like a lifetime. The adrenaline was helping you feel less of the pain but it wasn’t fixing much.

“I didn’t think you’d connect.” You said through gritted teeth as your face contorted in pain. You dropped down on your ass to inspect the wound. “I didn’t think you’d fail to block.” He muttered as he rushed over to lean down next to you.

“I’ll get to a medic. Just leave me alone.” You nearly seethed at him. “I knew you weren’t the nicest sparring partner but I didn’t know you played dirty when you’re mad.” You pushed yourself off the ground, your injured leg bent at the knee as you hopped toward the exit of the training room.

Anakin narrowed his eyes as he walked next to you, not bothering to help due to your comment. “I don’t play dirty. Watch that loud mouth. It’ll be the reason you eat through a straw one day.” His hands were folded behind his back as he watched you struggle to get up the steps to get back into the temple.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and held on to the railing for dear life as you hopped up each step. You felt an arm slide across your back and under your armpit.

“I’ll show you dirty if you keep this up.” He muttered, it was barely audible but you heard it and decided the pain in your leg was far more important than his incessant rambling.

“Don’t touch me.” You seethed but you made no attempt to move away from him. He looked down at you and you got the reply of sweet silence. For once, he chose not to respond.

“The medical bay is in the opposite direction-“ You started. “Shut up. It’s just a surface scratch. I can clean it out for you and avoid us both getting in trouble for training after hours when we should have been eating.” He said sternly and a laugh escaped your mouth followed by a short wince.

“You mean avoid yourself getting in trouble. I wouldn’t get in shit over this. You challenged me and hurt me.” You responded. He shook his head and continued walking over to the dormitories. You recognized the hallway he was walking down to be the boys sector. You decided to bite your tongue for the time being. The wound, while not dangerous, was painful and you wanted to save your energy for something more worth while.

He opened the door to his room and placed you down on the small chair by his desk before turning to close the door. He walked away from you to find medical supplies while you inspected the wound and poked the skin around it, wincing in pain.

“Do you enjoy hurting yourself or something?” He muttered as he returned to see you poking away at your sensitive skin. You dropped your hand and looked up at him, your eyes followed him as he kneeled in front of you. You’d rather die than admit it but he did look good on his knees. Again, you stuck with the cold shoulder response, it was easier when you didn’t argue with him. You averted your gaze fairly quickly when he looked up at you for a moment. You didn’t even feel his hands on your hips until he spoke.

“Up.” His hands rested on the waistband of your pants and you cocked an eyebrow. “No funny business.” You muttered as you raised your hips to allow him to get the pants off and have better access to your thigh.

“Only in your dreams.” He spoke with a level of confidence that made you want to scream and rip his hair out of his head, but still, you stayed fairly silent.

He cleaned and dressed your wound, his touch was softer than you’d expected apart from the moments you would flinch and he’d use a bit of strength to hold your leg in place. “You’re gonna need new pants.” He said, his face was close enough to your skin that you felt the air leave his mouth as he spoke and it immediately created goosebumps on your legs. It was clear he noticed it because he did it again. “What? Is it cold in here?” His low voice sent vibrations to your leg and they flared up in little bumps again. His eyes trailed up your leg and the rest of your body until they finally rested on your own eyes. There was a look in his eyes that you had never been able to pin point and he had it often when he’d speak to you.

“Give me my stuff. I think we’re done now.” You said with a look of annoyance blanketing your expression. He followed promptly with a ‘tsk’ and his low voice, almost a growl, spoke again. “I don’t think we are.” His grip on your thigh squeezed gently and you tried snapping your legs shut only to be met by the barrier of his stupid head.

“What’s your deal, Skywalker?” You ask, your eyes boring holes into his own. You never made a single effort to move away, something about him was entrancing. His thumbs traced circles on your inner thigh by your hips and your legs twitched. You could feel your heart in your throat as he stared you down with the same intensity at you. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips when he felt you get nervous.

“What’s yours?” He mused as his hands travelled up to your waist and he pulled you down from the chair to sit on his lap where he was kneeling on the floor. A soft gasp escaped your lips and you felt a hand push on the back of your neck. Your foreheads were touching now and it felt like all the oxygen in the room had some how disappeared. Your hands instinctively rested on his chest as you straddled him.

Your mind was moving too quickly for you to say anything and before you knew it you felt his lips press against yours. His hand moved from its place on your neck to bunch up your hair and he held it in a tight grip causing a gasp to leave your mouth again.

‘I’ll show you dirty.’ His words from earlier rang in your head and you felt yourself shiver. He pulled away from you and laid you down on the cold, hard floor.

“Anakin-“ You started and he climbed over top of you, caging you in with his arms. “Years. I’ve spent years resenting you for the way you make me feel. Years watching you strut about and walk around with the confidence of thinking you’re better than I am. I hate how you speak to me and I hate the way you act.” He spoke, his eyes never left yours and your eyebrows furrowed.

“If you hate me so much why are you on top of me?” You found enough air to finally say something, your words came out shaky and breathless. “There’s one thing I can do to make myself feel better than you.” Anakin’s head dipped toward your neck as he spoke, he licked a stripe up from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear before biting on your earlobe.

Your body quivered again and he smiled against your ear when a yelp left your mouth at the feeling of teeth biting down. “I can make you look pathetic and desperate. Just like you look right now.” He whispered again, your cheeks reddened and a small whimper left your mouth as he bit down on your neck, leaving small kisses between each bite. You couldn’t speak, you could barely breathe but you liked it. Your hands reached around to tangle into his hair and you pulled him up to make eye contact with you before pushing your lips against his in a desperate manner, open mouths collided as his tongue slipped into yours. After all the years spent being at each others throat when this is what you’d always wanted, you didn’t hesitate to push it to where you needed it to go.

Your hands fumbled with his utility belt and he smiled before lifting a single arm from beside your head to undo it in a moments notice. He sat back on his heels and pulled your belt off, your robe and tunic promptly followed. Your bare skin shivered as you laid back on the tile floor in his room and he smiled down at you. “Too pretty for your own good.” He mumbled as he pulled your underwear from your body leaving you completely vulnerable while he was still clothed. Your hands went for his robe and he pinned them down above your head, his hair flopped over his forehead in a way that made him look absolutely delectable.

He shook his head and another ‘tsk’ followed before he ducked down and placed his mouth right on your nipple that had hardened from the cold floor and excitement. A moan escaped your mouth and you bit down on your lip to stifle it. His eyes flickered open and he looked directly into your own, eye contact was definitely something he enjoyed. His free hand grasped at your chin and his thumb pulled your lip from between your teeth. “Try and hide how good you feel again and you’ll regret it.” His voice was stern and it made your head spin. You nodded.

“Use your words.” He said again and your back arched a little as his mouth returned to your nipple. “Y-yes, Anakin.” Your breathless words came out almost unintelligible. “Louder.” He said and grazed his teeth over your hardened bud. “Yes, Anakin.” You said louder as the shock of the feeling engulfed you. He smiled against you and returned to his position of hovering above you.

His hand trailed down your body agonizingly slowly, stopping right where your pussy was. His fingers traced the outside and you squirmed beneath him. “Please..” You whispered and his eyes darted back to yours. “Please what?” He spoke with his fingers still tormenting you, dancing around where you needed them the most. “Please, Anakin.” You whimpered and he smiled. “So fucking pretty when you say my name.” His mused, his voice almost came out as a low hum as his fingers finally slid up and down between your folds, picking up the juices that had collected. He pushed his lubricated fingers against your swollen clit and started to rub small, slow, circles against it. Your entire body jerked and he let go of your hands to press your hips down, your tailbone pushed against the tile and you winced causing your eyes to squeeze shut. You felt his fingers stop and instead felt a hand push your cheeks together causing your eyes to snap open, the smell of your pussy wafted toward your nose and a moan escaped your lips.

“Look at me. Don’t close your fucking eyes.” Anakin said, pushing your face to the side and letting go. His hand reached back down between your legs and he slipped two fingers into you. A yelp escaped you as he began to slide in and out, curling his fingers upward. Your eyes didn’t dare leave his as he continued to graze against the top wall. Your legs squeezed and his body kept them from closing. “Open your fucking legs.” He seethed and removed his other hand from holding you down to push your leg back down before returning to its spot on your hips. You pulled your legs apart and he continued to stare into your eyes. He ducked down and his tongue pushed against your clit as he fingered you.

“Y-yes.. Please..” You moaned as he began to flick his tongue against the nerve endings. He still hadn’t broken eye contact and you felt a knot begin to form in your stomach, your legs began to shake as well. His mouth moved away from you but his hand continued to defile your hole. “You cum when I say so, desperate bitch.” He spat and slowly returned to licking away at your clit. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched loudly in your throat. Your cheeks and ears burned at the words that fell through his lips.

“Yes, Anakin.” You said through your moans. You began clenching your pussy to hold back but that made the feelings even more amplified. Your breathing began to get heavier and heavier as you tried to take your mind somewhere else to keep yourself from going against his words but it was nearly impossible when you were forced to stare directly at him. He went on for what felt like an eternity before whispering against you. “Now.” He said and the vibrations of his voice made your entire body convulse as you let yourself go. You whimpered and squirmed while he held you in place. The knot in your stomach unraveled and warmth spread through your whole body, you couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as you whimpered his name like it was the only word you knew. He pulled his fingers out and used your robe to wipe them off, his mouth followed shortly. He threw your clothes back at you and stood up.

“You can go now.” He said with a hint of a triumphant smile gracing his features. You sat up and immediately began to put the clothes back on, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable for your liking. When you stood up he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward him as he stared down at you with a firm grip on your bicep.

“Watch that wound and come back tomorrow.” He said with a voice that would have made any innocent bystander believe that nothing had happened in the last ten minutes. He placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on your head and his free hand moved your hair from your face.

You simply nodded and mumbled a quick, “Yes, Anakin.” before ducking out of his room and speed walking back to your own quarters, praying nobody saw you and suspected anything. You knew exactly how proud and cocky he looked as you left, you didn’t even need to look back at him. You felt like the dog obeying commands now and you really liked it, too.

PART TWO HERE YA NASTIES

@likeavillian24

Dueling Fates Pt. 2

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: After a particularly messy night left you feeling dirty, Anakin tries to fix things.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni pls, p in v sex, unprotected sex, swearing, choking, biting, daddy kink, alcohol, potentially dangerous situations with strange men, name calling, dirty talk, cunnilingus, smutty shit nothing too crazy idk

A/N: Part two (part one here) was requested by @granillx! Thanks so much for reading guys, this one’s … Super long. But by now you should see i’m gonna keep apologizing for long pieces while simultaneously not attempting to make them shorter. regardless i hope you all like it!

Word Count: 5.5K

Twenty-four hours. That’s all it took for Anakin to come searching for you when you didn’t bother to seek him out after your little endeavour in his bedroom, clarity set in the second you woke up that morning. You didn’t want to see him, the events had made you feel dirty. You racked your brain for the entire duration of that time, you thought of how used you felt, how infuriated both of your Masters and the Council would be, how wrong it was. It was far too easy for him to wrap you around his finger, figuratively and literally. That bothered you too, you’d have liked to think you had more willpower than that.

You were sat at a table in the back corner of the dining hall when you felt a familiar energy enter the space. Your eyes closed for a moment in frustration as you stopped picking at your food. When you opened your eyes again, his tall frame was in front of you with his arms crossed. His hair fell over his face and he looked like he hadn’t slept. You placed your fork down and rested your hands on the table as you looked up at him, trying to seem as uninterested as possible.

“Where were you? I told you to come back tomorrow. It’s tomorrow.” His voice was colder than you’d expect it to be and it immediately put you on the defensive. Your hands clenched and unclenched where they rested on the table. You took a deep breath to avoid snapping at him, you were still reeling after all.

“I made no promises, therefore I owed you nothing.” You shrugged as you began to pick up your tray to leave. He pushed it back down and it slammed down as he sat in front of you. His eyes were dark but this was normal when he spoke to you. You weren’t dumb enough not to notice how he looked at others, there was a kindness to him. Add that to the shit list. He can’t even look at you with respect. You thought to yourself. His eyebrows furrowed. It was clear he sensed what you were feeling.

“Do you regret what happened?” His tone was hushed now. You looked at him for a moment. Silence filled the air. He stared at you, reading your emotions. With a sigh he ran his hands through his hair. “Listen. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted to be closer to you.”

You scoffed. “Based on your own words that wasn’t what you wanted at all. You wanted to make me look pathetic and desperate. Or did you forget?” You spat and pulled your tray from under his hand. With a swift motion you stood up and limped away to the disposal station to rid yourself of the food you’d barely eaten. Your wounded leg was clearly not healed yet, it had only been a day and you were exhausted from lying to people about what happened. Another jot note on the shit list. You thought.

You sensed him following you and you kept walking until you reached a small and empty garden in the middle of the temple. The sun was bright as it set on the horizon and the flowers were in bloom. “Quit following me.” You muttered as you stared at the orange clouds.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He repeated and you turned around quickly. You walked over to him until there was barely a foot of space between you two and crossed your arms over your chest. “I heard you the first time. You think I don’t see what you’re doing here, Skywalker?” Your voice was filled with venom and for a moment he looked disappointed, almost remorseful. He didn’t speak.

“I know you’re just being nice so I’ll follow you back to your room and let you defile me again.” Your voice was quiet, as not to let anybody hear. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to defile you… I just- It felt right.. It did for you too. I know it. You wanted to be close to me, too. You’re just mad because you broke a stupid rule.” His words made you laugh. You were so mad you laughed. This was never good.

“How dare you tell me how I feel?” You were still laughing. Your pointer finger pressed on his chest and you narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m hearing a lot of ‘I didn’t mean to.’ What did you mean to do when you called me a pathetic bitch?” He stepped away from you and his gloved hand rested on your upper arm. You shook it off immediately. “Touch me again and I’ll take your other hand.” You spat.

“I said it before. I meant to get closer to you. You drive me insane. I’m so fucking mean to you all the time because I cannot know you as I wish I could. I can’t have you in the way I desire.” His hushed words bounced around in your head and made your ears burn with anger.

“Like I’m some.. Thing? To be had? A fucking commodity?” Your words came out slow and intimidating. His eyes closed. For once, you saw him in a state where he seemed genuine. He seemed to be telling the truth but you didn’t care. You did not deserve to be treated that way. “Search your feelings, Y/N-“ He started and you jabbed your finger into his chest again.

“Don’t. Do not fucking site that shit to me like you’re so high and mighty.” Your eyes stung, you’d never been this upset. You stepped away from him and turned your back to him to take a few breaths in order to calm yourself. Fear, anger, sadness. They were very strong within you and you’d be damned if you let this be the reason you did something stupid.

He sensed your calm and approached you, only getting close enough for you to hear him. Nothing more, nothing less. “I’m sorry.” His words shocked you and you shook your head. Silence blanketed the air. Again.

You were never one to leave words unspoken but with him it was almost impossible to speak without doing something you regretted, like getting mad or letting him finger fuck you on cold tiled floors. Not even a bed. Shit list. Your inner voice repeated. You felt like pulling your hair out. He had so many red flags, so many problems. Why was it so hard to just hate him forever?

You turned to him. “Next time you want a fuck toy to make you feel better? Walk down about six blocks to that dingy bar in the lower levels. I’ve heard what you go there for. Stick to it because I won’t be of service to your sick fantasies again.” Your eyes seemed to look through him as you you walked past him, making sure you hit your shoulder against his. You watched him stagger a bit at the impact. “Fine.” He muttered as the doors to the garden closed behind you.

He’s sorry? Oh he’s sorry. How swell. How fucking perfect! Happy endings for all! Now we just have to find some banthas to ride into the sunset. Your thoughts stewed as you made your way to your room. You were done for the night. You just wanted to sleep but that was not a possibility. Your feet pulled you around your room in a pace that you didn’t quite enjoy due to your leg injury. You winced with every other step but you couldn’t stop thinking, and walking, and thinking again.

As you stepped out onto the balcony of your room for some fresh air to cool you down you saw a small figure with its hood up sneaking through the brush outside the temple. No god damn way it’s him. You thought as you focused your energy onto the figure. It was him. He was actually gonna go to that stupid bar.

Something in you urged you to follow him, to see what he was going to do. You tried to fight it but as you watched him get further away you succumbed with a frustrated groan. The best course of action was to go in regular clothing as not to be perceived as a Jedi. Trouble wasn’t something you fancied getting into and word travelled fast around Coruscant.

You put on one of the only pieces of normal clothing you had, a black dress with puffy sleeves. Maker, you hated this dress but it was a gift from your mother and one of the only things the Council allowed you to keep to remember her by. ‘Besides, everybody needs something nice to wear for special occasions.’ Your Master, Adi Gallia, had argued for you to the Council. You smiled at the memory before remembering what you were doing. You put on your robe over the short dress and tied it tight around you before pulling the hood over your head.

You decided to take the easiest route into the brush. The balcony. You’d done this a million times to watch meteor showers after curfew. It was a relatively easy feat when your leg wasn’t injured. You’d forgotten but by the time you were scaling down the column next to your balcony it was too late. Your face contorted in pain as you climbed down and hopped to your feet on the soft grass below. You ran straight into the brush and found yourself on the streets very soon. You had ditched your robe in the bushes right at the edge of the tree line to seem like a normal civilian and you began the trek to the lower levels. Your limp wasn’t making you move any faster but the cold air and your motivation was strong enough to make you prevail.

You arrived within a half hour. Your breath was heavy as you heard music blaring through the building that was illuminated by neon lights. You ventured in and began to look for Anakin as the smell of alcohol and body odour hit your nose. It really was grimy here.

It didn’t take you long, his presence essentially formed a beacon guiding you straight to him. You kept space between the two of you as you watched him. His hands rested firmly on the hips of a Twi’Lek woman who stood in front of him where he was sitting. She was beautiful. You rolled your eyes when he smiled up at her with that same smile he used to charm you in his bedroom. His head snapped toward you as you stared and you ducked behind somebody. Clearly, your presence was just as loud as his. You cursed under your breath. You were sure he saw you but he made no attempt to come to you.

You felt a hand tap your shoulder and when you looked at the source it was a strange looking man. A species you’d never seen before, almost humanoid but something was off. “What’re you doing here alone, young lady?” He asked, he must have been about 7 feet tall and his breath stank of something more rancid than the drinks they served here. You looked up at him. “Visiting.” You said politely. You weren’t here to step on toes. Especially when those toes were anchored to a man much taller and bigger than any you’ve seen before.

“A visitor? You must let me buy you a drink. As my special welcome, of course.” He smiled at you and his teeth almost made you gag. With a curt smile you shook your head. “I’ve never drank. I don’t wish to.” You spoke as kindly as you could and the man laughed.

“All the more reason for me to buy you one! Your first drink!” He spoke as he snapped his fingers. Your shoulders tensed as a cantina worker brought you two purple drinks in small, clear glasses balanced on a tray in her left hand. You smiled uncomfortably at her as you took one and he took the other. He clinked your glasses together and you gave the liquid a weary look. You had to stay under the radar and avoiding this would make you look suspicious. As you lifted the glass to your lips and closed your eyes you felt somebody knock it out of your hand. Your eyes opened to Anakin standing between the two of you, his eyes were blazing and his jaw was so tight you could nearly see every crevice of every muscle in it.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He spat and the man rested a hand on his shoulder. “You know this girl, Skywalker?” He asked. Anakin was clearly a regular around here. The boy in front of you, blazing with anger simply nodded and the man nodded in response. His put his hands up in surrender and walked away.

“I see you took my words to heart.” You crossed your arms as you glanced down at the broken glass beneath you both. Nobody even seemed to bat an eyelash at the glass shattering. It probably happened fairly often, it wouldn’t surprise you given the state of the disgusting building. “I see you’re an idiot.” He spat as he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the establishment. The air was colder now and he pushed his robe at your chest.

“An idiot-“ He cut you off. “I don’t want to hear it. Cover up. Has nobody ever told you not to take drinks from strangers? That guys a fucking creep. He would have had you in every way he could when you passed out five minutes after drinking that shit.” His voice boomed over the music and you dropped your head. He smelt like alcohol and perfume.

He snatched his robe from your unwilling hands and wrapped it around you and he tied it tight causing your breath to get caught for a moment at the impact. “And what the hell are you wearing? God. Fuck you’re so smart. You’re the smartest Jedi I know but you’re so god damn clueless!” His words were filled with anger and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I wanted to know.” You muttered. “Know what? That I came to do exactly what you told me to do? What is it you want? Please just fucking tell me. You drive me insane, you let me have you, you reject me, and now you’re following me to see who and what I’m doing?” His jaw was clenched and he spoke through his teeth. You shook your head again. “Use your fucking words god damn it, Y/N!” He yelled. You looked at him shocked and he instantly softened.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered and he sighed, shaking his head. “You should have never come here. Let’s go. Now.” His words were softer but still held a stern aura to them. It made you feel like shit. He held your arm firmly like you would run away back to the man in the cantina if he let you go as he tugged you back to the Temple. After a few minutes of silence you pulled your arm from him and he snapped to look at you. “What now?”

“What about your little girlfriend?” You muttered and you swore he got right back to being as angry as before but this time he pulled you toward him by your hip. “She had the same name as you. That’s what about her.” He seethed and his intense, blue eyes bored holes into your own. Your face softened and your cheeks caught the lightest pink tinge. “What were you going to do with her?” Your voice was quiet.

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? I had to come rescue you.” His hands grip on your waist tightened as he stared down at you. “Why won’t you let me have you?” He whispered, his forehead falling against yours.

“You made it pretty easy to believe you were just using me. You used my clothes to clean yourself off and threw them at me before shooing me away like some sort of 99 cent whore.” You looked up into his eyes and immediately dropped your gaze again. He sighed. “I’m not the most.. Romantic. When it comes to that stuff, but I swear on everything. I care about you. I wanted to make you feel good. I wanted to have you more than anything.” His hand cupped your cheek and his thumb brushed against your skin. Your lips pressed into a line after you let out a deep sigh. You searched his eyes, he was being truthful. You could see it, feel it. “I made you feel good didn’t I?” His words were laced with the faintest smile and you nodded your head immediately. The heat from his body combating the cold air on the planets lower levels made you feel safe.

“Atta girl.” He whispered and your cheeks reddened again. He glanced down at your leg and remembered you had hurt it. His arms snaked around you and he picked you up bridal style, a shocked gasp left your mouth. “You were supposed to be resting that leg. Not walking 30 minutes in the cold to find me.” He mumbled as he began walking.

“I’ll rest it when I get back.” Your protests came to no avail and you sighed. This was nice, not having to walk. You wrapped your arms around his neck in defeat as he snuck you two back home.

He picked up your robe from where you told him you hid it and successfully snuck you back into your room without a single person noticing. Who would notice? The entire Jedi Temple was fast asleep anyways. His arms pulled away from your body as he sat you down on your bed. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He said as he walked toward your door.

“Anakin.” You stopped him and he turned around, his eyes bright with hope. “Stay.” You whispered and he made no hesitation to walk toward you and sit next to you. Your cold hands cupped his warm cheeks and you pulled him in to a kiss. He sighed against your lips as you both tried desperately to deepen the kiss as if you wanted to be inside each other.

“Are you gonna yell at me tomorrow for what I wanna do to you?” He whispered and you shook your head. Something about the situation made you feel like this was what was supposed to happen and for once, you actually pursued it. His hands pulled you farther into the bed and he laid you down on the pillows as he pulled away from the kiss. “You look so good, Y/N. I know you have normal pants and a shirt but you wore a dress..” He whispered as he pulled on the fabric and you bit your lip before speaking. “I guess subconsciously I wanted you to think that..” You whispered back.

“Job well done.” He responded before leaning in for another kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth and you moaned quietly causing a smirk to pull at his lips that were fighting yours. He pulled the dress off with ease and began to ditch his clothing too. For the first time, you laid eyes on his bare chest and you nearly forgot how to breathe. It was better than you ever could have imagined. His muscles moved under his skin as he pushed his pants off and bunched them into the rest of his clothes only to throw them somewhere in your bedroom.

The moonlight creeping in from the horrendous curtains the Council provided the rooms with shined over him and you could have sworn you died and went to heaven. He wasted no time in letting his hands roam your body. You jumped when he is fingers grazed over a specifically ticklish part of your waist and he smirked. His hands searched your body as if he was trying to memorized every curve and detail. You watched him with bated breath as he stopped at your breasts. His hands were big enough to engulf them and he squeezed gently. A moan fell through your lips and his orbs darted between your nipples and your eyes. He leaned down to place a kiss on your chin, moving down slowly to your neck and collarbone. The feeling of his heavy breathing on your skin was enough to cover you in goosebumps as you wiggled under him with excitement.

His lips were hot as he left a trail of saliva down your body. The cold air in the room hitting the wet spots on your hot body made you shiver. He trailed his kisses down the middle of your chest and licked up towards your nipple and he caught it in his mouth. Your back arched into him and gasp echoed through the room. Your hands tangled their way into his hair and your eyes watched him, widened and in awe, as his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked away at your taught bud. His hand moved up your body to rub his thumb in circles over the one he didn’t have his mouth on. Your chest heaved at the feeling and you pushed your head back against the pillow.

“That feels so good..” You whispered through heavy breaths and he smiled against your skin. When he began to flick his tongue against your nipple and twist your other one between his fingers your legs squeezed shut under him as you felt your cunt begin to pulsate. His face lifted for a moment to blow on the soft wet skin and you moaned, tugging on his hair harder to pull him up toward you. Your lips caught his in a lustful kiss. You both smothered each other, barely moving away to breathe and your hand reached between the two of you to stroke his length. Your hand wrapped around him and he moaned into your mouth, your heart beat increased when you felt how big it was.

Before you could pump him a second time a quick, rough hand grabbed your wrist and pinned it above your head. “Uh, uh.” He shook his head as his eyes stared into yours. “Ladies first.” His words came out raspy and breathless. He left your hand above your head and dipped his own hand down between your legs. He fiddled around your entrance for a moment and when you squirmed he looked at you again.

“Use your words.” He spoke gruffly as he contained his own need to feel how wet you had gotten. “Please, Anakin-“ His tongue clicked against his teeth and he stopped moving his hand. He dipped down between your chin and neck, biting gently before scattering wet kisses all over the area.

“What do we call somebody who takes care of us?” The words almost came out in slow motion against your skin and your eyes widened before you stuttered it out. “D-Daddy…” You whispered. You were no stranger to this kink, but it had never been something you’d done. Your cheeks burned a bright red as he lifted his head to smirk at you. He hummed in response. “Good girl.” He whispered. “Next time you say it, say it louder for daddy.” The words pierced your ears and he slipped two fingers into your sopping hole. A whimper left your lips at the sudden feeling of him pumping his fingers in and out, curling them every so often to make that pretty gasp come out of your mouth again.

“So wet.. So ready for me.. Fuck you’re perfect.” He grunted as his cock began to grow at the thought of being inside of you. “Thank you, Daddy.” Your voice came out whiny and he loved it. He made that clear when he pushed himself off of you and pulled his fingers out. He pressed your cheeks together to make your mouth open and he slid his fingers in. You hummed against him at the taste and began sucking like your life depended on it. “That perfect fucking mouth…” He groaned with a gleam of an idea in his eyes.

With a swift motion he rolled the two of you over and sat you on his lap before spinning you around so your back was facing him. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and tugged you so your pussy was in his face and his dick was in yours. “Be a good girl and do what you just did to my fingers to my dick. I’ll make it worth your while.” His command was immediately followed as you wrapped your lips around him. His hips bucked pushing his length further into your mouth and you gagged, causing your throat to tighten around him. You bobbed your head up and down, moaning at the feeling of his heavy breathing against your pussy. He watched you for a moment, basking in the sight.

“Now that’s something I can put that smart mouth to use for.” A hand slapped down on your ass, causing a beautiful burning sensation to make itself known and you let out a muffled yelped around him. The vibrations made him shiver before he stuck his face into your pussy. The taste of you and your moans vibrating his cock made him want to touch every corner of your pussy with his tongue. He flexed his tongue and fucked you with the muscle and you damn near screamed.

Your eyes were watering and your saliva was all over him when you finally came up for air causing a string of spit to break and fall on your chin. His hands were grasping your hips firmly to keep you from moving away from him but he removed one to push your head back down.

“You’re not done till you cum.” He spoke against you and you returned to licking and sucking on his cock like it was a popsicle. His tongue moved up to your clit as he licked small, quick circles around it. He moved one hand from your hips again to push his two fingers against your hole again. When he slipped them in your entire body jumped and his gloved hand that was still holding your hips dug into you further to keep you still.

“Oh daddy-“ Your words were cut off by a gasp when he curled his fingers and began to suck on your clit. Your breathing became quicker by the second and it was filled with breathy whines as you felt a knot build in your stomach. You repositioned your mouth around him immediately to keep him from stopping. Your movements became harder to control as he pushed you further and further. You moaned around him and your legs began to squeeze his head. You shook intensely as he pulled his fingers out to lap away at the juices that came from you, letting you ride your high gently.

He stopped eating away at your pussy when you came up from him to catch your breath. Your breathing was loud and erratic. He smirked as he flipped your positions so he was on top again. It was almost too easy for him to throw you around into different positions. “What do we say when daddy makes you cum?” He whispered in your ear before biting down on the sensitive skin underneath.

“Th-thank you, Daddy.” You whimpered beneath him as your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of his teeth on you. Your back arched into him and your hands travelled to his shoulders. You held onto him as he pumped his cock between your legs with his flesh hand. “Put it in for me.” He demanded and you complied with a quick “Yes daddy.” Your shaky hand reached between the two of you and you positioned him at your entrance before pulling him into you. The head pushed through and you yelped. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and you retracted your hand from his length to join your other one as you grasped him tightly. The moan that left his mouth as he pushed into you made your head spin and his eyes started directly at you.

“Watch me. Watch me push my dick into your tight little pussy.” He groaned and your eyes dropped to watch his cock sheath itself in you. You hummed at the sight and he stopped when the base of his dick hit your body. He didn’t move and your eyes snapped back up to his, pleading him silently to do something.

“What do you want?” He cooed at you, his eyes still held a high level of intensity and the juxtaposition made you squirm. “Please fuck me, Daddy.” You whined and grinded your hips toward him to feel something. He shook his head, pushing your hips down. “You’re not gonna move. You’re gonna take this dick with your legs spread. Got it?” He spoke in a sadistic way that made your pussy clench around him. He grunted at the feeling before beginning to thrust into you. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the feeling.

“Eyes.” He said sternly and you snapped them open to look at him again. “How’s that feel, baby?” Your breath caught in your throat at the nickname and your fingers dig deeper, causing your nails to press into his skin and he took a sharp breath. “Good, Daddy. So fucking good.” You moaned as you maintained eye contact. His movements sped up and instead of pressing your hips down, his hand trailed over the bottom of your belly and he pushed down as he sat back on his heels, angling his dick up into you.

“Fuck!” You screamed at the new feeling of him steadily thrusting against a spot that made you feel like you’d never felt before. His hand caressed your hair before trailing down to your neck. “I’m gonna do something, just trust me.” He whispered as he squeezed both sides of your neck gently, the feeling caused you to feel like you had stood up too quickly and you moaned. “I like it, Daddy.” Your words were weak and he smirked. “Good.” His pace picked up and his other hand trailed down your stomach before pressing his thumb against your clit. He didn’t move it but the feeling alone was enough to make you groan through the pressure on your neck.

“You look so good like this, baby.” He moaned, his breathing becoming louder. He circled his thumb against you causing your back to arch and you moaned his preferred nickname to him. He hummed in response when he felt you began to twitch ever so slightly.

“Another one for, Daddy.” His thumb moved a bit quicker and you felt yourself begin to drool as your mouth stayed open while he choked you. He chuckled. “My messy girl.. You can do it. Gimme another one.” He moaned when he felt your pussy begin to contract around him and he sped his pace up. You watched the muscles in his body tighten with each move and that, along with his words, did it for you. You let your juices spill over him as you found the orgasm he was helping you chase and his hand removed itself from your throat, instead grabbing your hip tightly while his other hand held your tummy down. He railed into you and multiple grunts left his lips before you felt him twitch inside of you. It wasn’t a second longer before you felt something warm spurt into you and a gasp left your lips.

He weakened immediately as little bursts of warm liquid filled you up, his body dropped down over yours and he moaned into your ear as his own body shook. His strokes slowed and he rammed into you slowly as he blew his load inside of you. “Oh fuck you felt too good to hold out.” He whispered and you giggled. “I guess I win then.” You smiled triumphantly. His head raised from your neck and he looked at you. “I have you beat 3-1. I don’t think it to be that big of a win.” His words were quiet but that confident smirk still graced his face. You rolled your eyes as he collapsed next to you. His hand rested on his chest while the other pulled you in to lay on his chest and combed through your hair.

You laid there with your hand on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. Your eyes suddenly began to droop with exhaustion and he looked down at you. “Tired?” His voice was quiet and surprisingly kind. You nodded and hummed in response. He chuckled and got up, he began to hop off your bed and you whined, pulling him back by his arm. “I can’t sleep here.” He chuckled again and you shook your head. “Just stay till I fall asleep..” You whispered and he laid back down next to you. You laid on him and he stroked your hair until he heard small snores leave your swollen lips.

Anakin quietly slid out from under you and pulled the blanket on your bed over your body before kissing your forehead. He pulled his clothes on lazily and snuck out of your room to get to his own. His feet padded down the hallway quickly and quietly and he got to where he needed to be with no interruption. The next day came and when you two weren’t at each others throats while training Obi-Wan took it upon himself to pull Anakin aside and ask what had changed so suddenly.

“We turned a new leaf. No point in fighting, it’s only a distraction.” He responded with a shrug and you looked over at him as Obi-Wan walked away. A small smile tugged at your lips and he threw you a wink before approaching you at the training ring with his lightsaber ignited.

“Again.” He spoke sternly, a hint of a smile pulled at his own lips. “Ready to continue your losing streak so soon?” You laughed and he raised an eyebrow. “Depends. Can I continue my winning streak later?” He said with a teasing voice and a playful smile. You rolled your eyes, swinging first and he blocked causing the sound of your clashing lightsabers to fill the room.

anakin breeding kink anakin breeding kink anakin breeding kink I want TWINS with this man. please… elaborate on this kink with him… please…

Anakin x afab!reader | Smut | Minors DNI

Warnings — BREEDING (obv, duh), soft dom Anakin, bit ordering you around, DADDY KINK, praise, pet names, explicit mentions of body fluids (goes without saying), brief nipple play, brief biting, clit play...

Word count — 2813

Notes — It's almost 4AM as I am finishing this. I'm pretty sure I'm lacking some warnings, and my editing is probably off, but I really wanted to post today. Thanks to my lovely mutual for requesting this; I loved writing it, and I hope it will be a nice read, XO.

There were a thousand thoughts in your head, running in circles and screaming what a miserable human you are for not being able to fight your primal urges, and they were all replaced by imagines of Anakin’s hands gripping your hips and stuffing you full of his cum. You could almost feel it in you; you could feel it setting into your ovum and dripping down your thighs, taking over every last piece of your identity and self-awareness. Your body wanted it. It was demanding it.

"What's the stare, love?" Anakin raised his head from a book, catching your eyes from across the room. His raspy voice and intense stare instantly snapped you out of your trance.

"N-nothing." You managed to stutter while trying to find a spot in your bedroom to focus on instead of his face or exposed forearm peeking from his rolled-up sleeve. Fuck.

He's got you.

Anakin let out a soft sigh, followed by a laugh. He slowly put the book aside and uncrossed his legs, staring at you. "Come here." He gestured with a swift movement of his hand.

If it was any other moon phase, you would have put on a show. You would have thrown a snarky comment at him, mocked his authority over you, or just ignored his commands, but since your clothes were almost evaporating from his gaze, you did not refuse.

"You're listening." A bit surprised, he smiled widely after seeing you slide out of the sheets and walk towards him. "Good."

He leaned forward, grabbing your hips as you stood before him and looked up at you with a little hint of amusement in his eyes. "I can smell it on you." He nudged his nose into your abdomen and took a deep breath.

You were about to protest when he turned you around and seated you on his lap, making your back rest against his chest. He leanedand kissed your neck softly. "You're wet."

He forced your legs open by making them rest on his outer thighs and spreading himself, dragging your limbs together in the process.

"I'm- " He was right, and you hated it, but you couldn't disagree when you felt his hand slip under the waistline of your pants and slide over your panties, rubbing the very core with his middle and index fingers.

Anakin let out a deep chuckle. "Oh, sweetheart, you're not wet... You're soaking."

With his free hand, he brushed your hair off your shoulder, softly scratching you with his metal fingers. He pressed his lips onto your now exposed skin.

"I could just slide right into your little pussy and you wouldn't feel a stretch..." Anakin whispered against your back, sending shivers down your spine.

His fingers continued softly rubbing over your panties and you could feel your core pulsing with anticipation. You make an unfortunate attempt to shut your legs close when he brushes over a sensitive spot, which makes Anakin chuckle.

"I know, baby, it's aching, isn't it? It's aching for me." Anakin gave your clothed core a gentle slap, making you gasp softly. "Tell Daddy what you need."

"I n-need you to..." You keep stuttering when his palm keeps fondling your wet folds slowly. "...Fill me up..."

You blurt out like a dog in heat, unable to contain its urges. Before you could say something else, Anakin froze. His hand stopped moving, his lips parted with your skin, and the only active sensation you could feel is his warm breath on the back of your neck. "You...What?"

"I-I..." Your face flushed deep pink when you sober up from the fantasy of your womb swelling with his seed. The shame you feel after making such a lewd request is almost unbearable.

Anakin grabbed your hips and, with a sharp movement, turned you around to face him. "Say that again."

His hands gripped your sides harshly, pressing your cunt onto his growing dick, which only made you stumble over your words more. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes. "I said, repeat yourself."

You stared into his orbs; his gaze is intense, demanding in silence and forcing words out of your mouth. "Fill me...up..."

That was all Anakin needed to hear. His lips pressed onto yours, wasting no time and pushing his tongue inside your mouth like a starved man. His spit smeared over your lips from how messily he was devouring you. You could feel a pair of hands roaming all over your body, gripping your thighs and butt, pulling you closer by the waist to grind his hardening cock onto your pussy.

"Is that what you desire?" He whispered in between kissing you. "Want me to breed you? Fill your pretty hole with my cum until you're leaking?"

"Yes, Ani..." You manage to breathe out. His tongue was good at so many things, his filthy mouth and your fantasies coming together was a bliss. Especially when his greedy hands gripped your curves so eagerly, ready to grant you all of your wishes.

Anakin lifted you up, carrying you back into the soft sheets. "My love, my beautiful girl..." He kept whispering into your ear while planting kisses all over your neck. As soon as your back pressed into the mattress, his hips bucked into yours, grinding his proud cock and earning an erotic moan from you.

His hands left your curves only to tear your pants down your legs, taking the messed panties together and throwing the mess of clothing across the room. "I'm going to breed that tight little cunt." He grunted while pushing his pants down and freeing his throbbing cock, which he instantly pressed onto your twitching clit.

"Look at that..." He slapped his length over your folds a few times, smearing your lewd wetness on himself. "I'll fucking ruin you..."

"A-Ani..."

Anakin wasn't going to take your shit today, not when he knew your womb was ready to host his seed. He leaned back on top of you and pressed his hand against your mouth.

"You are going to be a good girl and let daddy fuck a baby in you, is that clear?"

Did you want to be a brat about it? Yes. Could you? Well, with his body on top of you and with his dick an inch away from your slippery hole, promising to fulfill your fantasy... Not really. So you nod.

"That's my girl." Anakin pressed a tender kiss on your forehead. His hand moved from your mouth to your cheek, caressing it softly. "My perfect girl." Then he kissed you. Softly, not forcing himself onto you, allowing it to linger. An action completely opposite of his demeanor.

It wasn’t long before your blouse was being sent across the room, his pants following right after. You gripped onto Anakin’s robes, pulling onto them and exposing his chest. He pulls out his arms from the sleeves and snakes them around you once again, firmly caressing your hips and stomach, obviously thinking about how perfect your body is to bear his children.

You wrap your arms around his back, digging your fingers into toned flesh as he teases your entrance with his slick tip. There is a visible grin on his face. To ease your suffering at least a bit, you go for a kiss. Another messy wet kiss with teeth clashing against each other and tongues moving in a messy sync, that only made sense to him and you. When Anakin pulls his lips away, you can’t help but pant after realizing how much oxygen he’s stolen from you.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs more. Let Daddy in.” Anakin is panting too. His hands are trembling in anticipation after finally being this close to ravishing your body raw.

And when he asks like that, how can you deny him? Your legs wrapped around his hips, which brought you even closer to him. His presence made your head spin; you are holding onto him as if he were the anchor to your physical body, as if your soul would cease to exist if your fingers weren’t touching him so so feverishly. You were kerosene, and his touch — a flame.

Your eagerness only made Anakin more famished for your body. He kept grinding himself onto you while his teeth repeatedly grazed into your neck, making sure to mark you as his outside your body before imprinting himself in your insides. You hated the fact that he was still attempting to tease you, which, despite how annoyed you were, still made you overflow with wetness.

“Fuck, baby, need to be inside you…” Anakin groaned, and with that, you felt his length splitting your opening apart.

He entered you slowly, purposely delaying the full pleasure of feeling him at the deepest parts of you. His forehead slightly furrowed, eyes closed in delight from feeling your soft walls hugging him. He wasn’t just going to fuck you; he was going to feel every part of your tight bare cunt against his length for the first time and memorize it. His mind is clouded with thoughts about finally being able to raw you whenever he desires to, because after tonight you will surely be bearing his child.

“Ana-kin!” You let out a choked moan of a word you know the best, clinging to him, your starved body making it hard for him not to cum within seconds of hitting your cervix. If it were any other day, you’d probably be begging for him to ease it up.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He settled still deep inside you, kissing your neck and collarbones while caressing your skin tenderly, as if thanking you for letting him ruin the last bit of innocence you had left. Anakin remained in place for a few moments until he felt your walls greedily clench around him, asking to be bruised. Today, he wasn’t going to deny you.

It took all of his self-control to set a nice and firm pace instead of instantly pounding you to oblivion; he wanted to savor the special moment as long as possible. Once he set a satisfying speed, endless grunts started spilling from his mouth, which you answered with incoherent words. The intense ecstasy he was giving you stripped you of your ability to form logical sentences.

And it wasn’t just his thick cock that made your muscles spasm; it was also the way your name rolled off his parted lips, the way his firm hands groped your shivering body, and skin glistened with sweat. It was his whole presence, his entire existence, that made you break for him.

He slammed into you repeatedly, sending electricity all over your body. The room echoed with sounds of pleasure, which only made Anakin steadily increase his pace, making lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin more frequent. You have never felt so drenched in fluids; the mess between your bodies was smearing all over your lower abdomen, sticking his flesh to yours like vile viscous glue.

“That’s it.” Anakin grunted when he filled you to the brim once more. “You’re. Taking. Me. So. Well.” Each word was separated by him pounding into you harder and harder. This was a point of no return.

Your quivering body was now answering all of his actions on its own. Your back kept arching, hardened nipples brushed against his chest with each flex of your spine. Anakin watched your breasts bounce in awe before grabbing your sensitive bud between his prosthetic fingers and pinching it softly.

“You are made to bear my children.” He started kneading your soft flesh; thoughts of your body adjusting to nurture his babies scrambled his brain, making it more difficult not to fill your cunt. “You’ll swell and stretch for my seed; you’ll bless me with many sons and daughters, and I will worship every square inch of your exhausted body.”

If you had any doubts about making Anakin a father, they were gone the second his words of desire reached your ears. You nodded your head frantically, unable to verbally answer him, unable to tell him how much your womb craved to carry his child.

“I’ll plant it in you. Or maybe two; do you think you can give me two at once, my love?” He whispered through his ragged breaths. “It’s okay if you can't; I’ll just fuck another one into you again.”

“P-please…!” You weren’t even sure what exactly you were pleading for. In fact, you couldn’t just beg for one thing. You wanted to come. You wanted him to go faster, to thrust harder, you wanted him to kiss you, and most importantly, you wanted his cum deep inside of you. You wanted him to coat your insides in white, make it spill out of you, you needed him in a primal and animalistic way. The same way he needed you.

In different circumstances, Anakin would have pulled out and made you beg for him to continue, beg for him to let you release, but this was a special night and he was going to fulfill your wishes. His hips moved rhythmically, digging into your sore body, hands grasped any parts of you he could reach. The more he was giving you, the more your legs trembled. Your cunt was tightening around his cock, signaling him about the upcoming wave.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” You nodded eagerly at his words, attempting to mumble more pleas but failing miserably. “Good girl, baby, cum all over daddy’s cock. That’s it.”

He reached down between your bodies, pressing two fingers over your swollen clit. He looked you in the eyes proudly, knowing this position allowed you to see how your dripping pussy swallowed his dick fully with each sharp thrust. His fingers rubbed you slowly, making sure to apply just enough amount of pressure to send you to cloud nine.

So close, you were so close. Seeing Anakin like that, trying to hold himself over you with one arm as his whole body was focusing only on your pleasure, it made you crave impossibly more of him. “Cum, baby girl, cum for me now.” He leaned and whispered while pressing his lips all over your face tenderly, making sure that, in between the storm of lust and passion, you knew that he loved you more than anything else in the galaxy.

And that was all it took. His pleading permission for you to let yourself go, affection and desire for you, his body abusing itself to please you... You couldn’t hold it anymore. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smashing your lips against his. The kiss was full of moans and whimpers, and he ate it all up like his last diner. Your walls spasmed tightly around him, vision darkened as your eyes rolled at the back of your skull. He kept pounding himself into you until the ultimate pleasure was sent across your body like thunder, making you quiver with a moan of his name.

“My love, my beautiful love..." Anakin whimpered after your juices of passion covered his entire cock. It was nearly impossible for him not to follow right away.

And there was no point in holding himself back anymore; he moved his hand off your clit, wrapping his arms around your body, and with a last sharp roll of his hips, you were filled with his warm seed. Your whole body was shaking from the feeling of hot cream settling inside of you, marking you as Anakin’s, devouring your whole body. He kept cumming as if he'd been holding himself for months, and you made an effort to clench your muscles to milk him as much as you could. Anakin’s body collapsed on top of you, his cock still entirely inside, basking in a sloppy mess of your love-making.

“I love you. I love you more than life itself.” He clinged on top of you, mixing your bodies entirely, skin to skin, sweat to sweat, heart to heart. He was entirely yours, and you were entirely his.

Anakin raised his head slightly, and in fear of his absence, your limp body found strength to hold onto him. “Stay. Right here, stay.” You pleaded with your eyes and voice, still gasping for air.

He carefully reached to stroke your cheek, making sure to not separate from your body. His fingers started tracing the supple skin lovingly. For a moment, he just stared into your eyes, trying to regain his strength to speak. “The gift you’ll give me, I’ll forever be grateful for.” His hand left your cheek and found a place on your hip, rubbing it with his thumb softly as if expecting a crumble of joy that will soon start growing inside of your womb to know about his presence before it even exists.

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | austin!tex watson x kidnapped!reader

summary: the year is 1969 and you find yourself lucky enough to live up in the hollywood hills, spending your days dancing away to your favorite rock n’ roll vinyls in an old farmhouse and looking after your wild roommates. the only problem? you’ve caught the eye of tex watson. how does he spend his days? making moves towards finally getting everything that he could ever want. you.

pairings: obsessive!tex watson x kidnapped!reader

word count: 16,557

warnings/notes: HEAVY SMUT! serious gunplay, sexy russian roulette, cream pie, breeding kink, marking, claiming, possessiveness, tex literally stalks you, tex then kidnaps you, mention of the manson family, mentions of murder and violence- this is the sexiest thing i’ve ever written, and i will fully finish editing it tomorrow. i’m emotionally drained after finishing this.

masterlist | requests are currently closed for now.

Up in the California hills there sits a small house, nestled smack dab in the middle of a few sprawling acres of farmland. This is where Tex first saw you. 

There’s a long drive leading up to the old farmhouse, and behind it is a small red barn which has faded to a rusty orange over time due to the blinding summer sun. Every once in a while an older gentleman that looks to be in his early fifties will make his way up the mountainside to his little stretch of heaven, the large tires of his wide body chevy truck easily making it over the bumps and divots in the land, so that he can check on his tenants. He’s the kind, homely sort that the Texan was used to interacting with in the south. Watson, who was currently parked on the back bend of the mountain and just out of sight of the house and the main road, watched the older man closely. Tex’s shoulder length hair blew into his face with a large gust of wind, and he was quick to tuck it right back behind his ear, readjusting his cowboy hat to stop the annoyance from happening again. 

A gaggle of girls lived in that farmhouse, all appearing to be what the Californians would consider to be hippies. The free lovin’, barefoot walking, rock n’ roll dancing type of gals that Tex had been told to stay away from once or twice. Of course, these types of girls were the kind that Charlie seemed to like the most. 

The older landowner seemed to have no reservation about their scantily clad forms or the fact that three out of the four of them smoked like chimneys. The man would always climb out of his truck and head to the side door that was connected to the kitchen, and then you would duck your head out with a smile and beckon him in. Tex had been watching that house of yours for what seemed like days, but had really been weeks. Charlie had said in passing that he had seen a car full of pretty girls that might want to come stay at the ranch, and had given Tex the task of extending the invitation. What the “prophet” hadn’t expected was that the tall, lanky boy might grow fond of one of them. 

It was impossible to deny your charms, even from a few hundred feet away. You’d dance to your records like no one was watching, your head thrown back as you loudly sang the lyrics to your favorite songs. It was obvious to him, even after the first few hours of watching you through the windows of the house, that you were the designated ‘mother’ of the group. You cooked most of the meals and cleaned up after the messy hellions with little to no complaints. He supposed that the older gentleman must have been someone’s father, though Tex didn’t care enough to get a very good look at him and his features. Why would he pay attention to anyone else but you? Charlie would ask every other day about the progress Tex was making with talking “the pretty little things down the road” into joining the family, and Tex was guilty of lying about the strides that he was taking to make nice with the group. 

Today was just like any other day. The sun was beating down on the brunette and his tanned skin, his sensitive blue irises shielded by the brim of his hat. He was wearing a t-shirt that communally belonged to the family, though it was a size or two too small for him. It must have been one of the girl’s shirts, because it was quite snug. When he raised his arms the shirt would brush up and over his navel, and when his arms were at his sides, like they were now, it brushed against the soft flesh of his stomach. Today's outfit wasn’t exactly appropriate for crouching down in briars. Not even the fabric of his low waisted, boot cut jeans protected him from the painful stick of thorns. Nothing was going to get in his way of getting a good look at you though. 

“Thanks for dropping by to fix the sink, sir. I’m just sorry that Debbie was out of the house though. . . I know you don’t get to see her often, Mr Swanson.” You were talking to the old man out on the front porch, opening the screen door for him so that he could make his way down the rickety old steps. 

It wasn’t often that Tex got to hear your voice so clear. You seemed apologetic, and from where he stood in the tall brush and thorns, Tex could see that your eyes were soft on the man. Almost like you felt bad about something. The man, who Tex now knew as Mr Swanson, stopped by the door of his truck, quickly waving off your concerns. 

“I’ll just see her the next time I swing by. Let her know that I love her though, will ya?” His voice was deep, with a southern drawl that made the brunette feel a sort of kinship. It wasn’t entirely unusual for people to move to Los Angeles from southern states, but it was rare to meet someone with an accent as thick as his own. ‘Tex’ was a nickname he had been given by the group, and he found that he preferred it to his birth name anyway. Texas, they called him. 

“Will do. Thank you again, sir.” You made sure to watch the man drive off, staying on the porch until his car disappeared behind a thick patch of trees. 

For a second Tex worried that the man might be able to see his car once he got far enough down the mountain, but relaxed when he realized that there were a couple of thick saplings that covered up the car completely. Tex was quick to stand up, clenching his teeth as a few thorns ripped into the skin of his hands as he continued to shuffle through the bushes. Thankfully his cowboy boots protected his lower legs, but the rest of his lithe body was fair game for the sharp weeds. 

He watched your form float through the house, smiling softly to himself as you ended up in the kitchen, just as you always did. You were currently stirring away at something in a big pot, and he was sure that you were already getting things ready for dinner. You were kind and thoughtful like that. It was one of the many reasons why he was so enamored with you. He waited a few more minutes, watching to see if there was anybody else in the house. The upstairs lights were all off, meaning the girls probably weren’t in their rooms. You had also apologized about Debbie’s absence, who he assumed must have been the older man’s daughter. Clearing his throat to calm his sudden nerves, Tex walked out from the bushes, over the dirt driveway, and up the front steps of the house. The porch creaked under his weight as he stalked his way up to the front door. 

He stood there for a few seconds, his fist raised and hovering over the wooden door. He had come up with a story as a means to get you to trust him beforehand, but a strange sense of guilt had begun washing over him. Tex was by no means a good person. He wasn’t shocked by the fact that he was really standing on your front porch, mere seconds from stealing you away to the ranch. Instead of being shaken to the core by his innermost urges, he had mindlessly acted on them. Now here he stood, right on your front porch. Right where he shouldn’t be. He still had time to turn around. He could have told Charlie that he knew you personally, and felt odd about taking you back to the ranch. The head of the family would have been annoyed, and perhaps Tex would be forced to prove his loyalty, but you would at least be safe and untouched. You were too sweet and pure to be tainted. 

Tex slowly turned his head to face the long drive, biting the inside of his cheek as he wracked his brain for some sort of definitive answer. What should he do? The second that he took you there would be no turning back. You’d be forced to stay with him… but wasn’t that what he really wanted? Fate had placed you right into his lap. You were meant for him and nobody else. You gave the lanky man no time to mull over his decision. From the kitchen window you had seen him walking up the drive and decided to investigate.

At first you had been terrified, and rightly so. You rarely got any visitors since you lived so far out in the middle of nowhere, so it was unusual for a man who was around your age to be wandering around on your land. You had placed the wooden spoon down on the counter, shuffling over towards the front door in the hopes of being able to see him through the small windows that overlooked the porch. Sure enough he seemed to just be standing there, his eyebrows knit in concern, his plush lips downturned into a deep frown. It was his obvious distress that made you open up the front door, looking at him through the screen. Little did you know that you would be sacrificing both your safety and your life. He blinked at you, his handsome face hidden behind the shadow that was cast from the brim of his hat. 

“U-Uh. . . can I help you, sir?” You asked, trying to keep the fear out of your tone. 

You’d recently caught wind of a few recent robberies, and the last thing that you wanted was for something like that to happen to you. The longer that you looked at the handsome stranger, the harder it was to believe that he could be a thief though. You eyed his clothing for a second before finally deciding that he must be one of the girl’s guests. The cropped shirt and tight fitting jeans made him fit in with the sort of crowd that you usually hung around. Without a second thought you swung the screen door open, allowing him to shuffle a few steps closer to you. “Are you here to see one of the girls? They’re actually headed into town right now, but feel free to wait around-” Your heart lurched as you watched him lean against the doorframe, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watched you. 

No one had ever looked at you the way that he was looking at you in that moment. Sure, you attracted men’s attention, but this wasn’t just a glazed over sexual glance- this man was staring at you almost as though you were his favorite person in the whole world. Like you were some celebrity that he was finally getting to meet after years of idolization. It was wholly unsettling. 

“I’m actually not here for any of that.” Your face paled, and all you could do was pray that a robber wasn’t halfway through your open door. “I was actually headed up the mountain to go hiking? But I must have turned onto your drive instead. I’ve got an ole’ piece of shit beater, and it broke down on the way back down the mountain. Can I use your phone, darlin’? Just to call a friend.” His southern accent was thicker than Mr Swanson’s, and there was something about that Texan drawl that disarmed you. It made you feel like he was someone kind and trustworthy. 

“Yeah- of course. People get lost up this mountain all the time. Here, come on in.” You took a step back into the house, your mind far from accepting of the possible dangerous circumstances. It was nineteen sixty-nine, so what was the worst thing that could happen? Not to mention that the man looked like he understood the way that you lived your life. He seemed free spirited, what with his outlandish sense of style. “Our phone is right in the living room.” You called out to him, your bare feet creaking on the old hardwood floors as you made your way down the hall. Tex took his time looking around the house, his palms beginning to sweat as he realized how close he finally was to you. He could finally tell the exact color of your eyes, and smell the incense coming off of your long, wild locks. He loved you more than he could express in words. 

The rugs on the floor looked handmade, like someone had tied a bunch of silk scarves together. They felt plush under his boots as he made his way down the hall and into the living room. The southerner had spent a lot of time watching you from just outside that living room window. He could see his hiding spot where he stood now, just behind a thick patch of trees and brush, far off from your driveway just in case your roommates got any late night visitors. The house smelled like patchouli, nag champa and whatever you were currently cooking on the stove. Though of course this wasn’t the first time that he had been inside of your home. He had made visits from time to time when no one was home, eagerly shoving keepsakes into his pockets that you wouldn’t miss.

You and your friends didn’t spend much time watching tv, but there was a small television set up in the corner. He could tell that you had quite the record collection, but now that he was finally in the home, he saw that there were crates everywhere. “You like the blues?” He asked, bending down so that he could leaf through a few of the vinyls that you had right beside the telephone. You blinked a few times, almost in shock that he was going through your things before you relented, looking almost shy. 

“Yeah, don’t you?” Tex froze, taking a steadying breath so that he could gather up the strength he needed to look at you head on again. You were so beautiful that it hurt him to see you this close up. He didn’t think that it was possible to fall deeper in love with you, but he was. . 

“Me? I love rhythm and blues. You’ve got a nice collection here too. I see ya like Neil Young. . . he’s a real nice guy; a buddy of mine, actually.” Tex was stalling, and he knew it. Either he made an excuse and left the house now or he took this opportunity and brought you back home with him. He risked another glance up at your face, tracing your plush bottom lip, and then making his way up to your large doe eyes. Another stab of guilt hit him when he realized just how much you trusted him at this moment. He’d teach you how to protect yourself later, but for now he thanked God for your innocence. You were his sweet, naive baby. He’d take good care of you from now on. 

He reached out and picked up the phone, holding it against his ear as he stared at the dial pad. For a few seconds you thought that maybe he was trying to remember the right number, but there was something blank in his stare that made you begin to feel uneasy. Unsafe. Your heart picked up, pounding away in your ears as you shuffled in your spot, trying to soothe yourself by running your foot along the shag rug you had set up in the living room. 

“A-Aren’t you gonna use the phone?” You finally asked, motioning to it with your hand. 

Before you could drop your arm back down to your side he was gripping your wrist, yanking you down towards him. You barely had enough time to scream before you were lurching forward. The phone made a shrill sound as Tex threw the receiver to the ground, yanking hard at the cord to tear it out of the wall. The second that you were on the ground, Tex was moving to straddle you, trying his best to calm you with his words. “I’m not gonna hurt you, darlin’. You’ve just gotta calm down.” He tried, grabbing your wrists in one of his large hands while he fought to tie the phone cord around them to bind you. 

Your beautiful features were twisted with fear, tears pouring down your cheeks as you came to the hard realization that you had been betrayed. That you had chosen to trust the handsome stranger and that you had been an idiot in doing so. Tex watched in real time as you realized that your own innocence had been your downfall. He wanted to tell you that he wanted you to hold on to those rose colored glasses of yours. The hurt that he saw in your eyes made him want to stop what he was doing, or even turn the gun that he had burning a hole in his side on himself. He was hurting you. Tex was hurting you. 

The fear felt like it was going to eat you up alive. You could barely fill your lungs with enough air to keep yourself conscious, your loud sobs and screams tearing up from your throat only to be muffled by his hand. The stranger allowed you to buck and kick from underneath him, his hips moving with your body almost as though you were a bull trying to catapult him off. He must have had a lot of experience riding horses, because he stayed anchored to you, his solid weight crushing into your much tinier form. The long haired man flinched when your small foot made contact with a lamp on a nearby table, listening to the glass shatter behind him. 

“You’re evil!” You bit out at him, briny tears slipping past your lips and into your mouth. 

“Pure evil. Practically the devil. But I’m an angel where you’re concerned, so you better stop tryin’a kick’ me or else, lil lady.” 

Still, he kept trying his best to shush you, whispering sweet nothings to you that you weren’t quite ready to hear or understand. Finally, after what felt like hours of tirelessly trying to fight him off, you succumbed to your aching muscles. You sucked in gulps of air, shaking like a leaf as he smoothed your hair off of your sweaty forehead, cooing to you gently. 

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, pretty girl. I’m not going to do anythin’ bad to ya, alright? I just want ya to come home with me.” And then it all made sense. Things started to click into place. 

You’d felt like someone had been watching you for weeks, but any time you looked out the window or flicked the porch light on there would be no one there. Your roommates had tried to tell you that you were being paranoid, and while a part of you wanted to give up and tell them that they were right, you had known that something just wasn’t right. You didn’t want to ask him if he had been watching you. You were too scared to hear him say it- not like you needed to hear the answer anyway. You already knew. Deep down you knew that he had been trailing you for weeks. For what purpose? You weren’t quite sure of that yet. 

You pressed your cheek against the carpet, closing your eyes tightly as he slowly climbed off of you. He wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to hurt yourself with all of the glass on the floor. He hovered above you for a few seconds, making sure that you were done putting up a fight before breezing through the house, acting almost as though he owned the place. If there was ever a time to try and get up, now would be that time. You refused to die without putting up a fight. So once he was off of you and looking around the house, no doubt for something to probably tie your legs up with, you fumbled to sit up, pulling at your arms with all of your might. The plastic wires didn’t bend or break at all, and so you were left to pull yourself up with great difficulty, hissing softly in pain as broken pieces of glass embedded themselves into your bare legs. You were tired, terrified, and now injured. This didn’t stop you from stumbling up and onto your feet, breathing heavily as you made your way down the hall as quietly as you could, the front door in sight. Maybe you could run down the driveway and out onto the road, praying that someone in their car might see or hear you screaming for help. It was worth a shot. You’d almost made it to the screen door when you heard a very soft clicking noise directly behind you. You’d heard the sound in enough western films to know that it belonged to a weapon. Specifically an old revolver. Something with enough power to blow a hole straight through you. 

“I was tryin’ to be nice, honey. Now I know you’re not the type to go ‘round takin’ advantage of others kindness.” Kindness. You heard his voice right behind you, your muscles tensing as you realized that the only chance you had was now gone. This was it. Either you died right here or did as he said. 

Of course you didn’t know that he was madly in love with you. How could you know that? The gun was merely a prop, something that he had brought to scare you, and if there happened to be a confrontation at the house while he was getting you, he would use it to protect both you and himself. Even if you managed to run out of the house, he would have never shot you. Not in a million years. You could do anything you wanted to him, and he still wouldn’t raise a hand to you. Besides, even if you somehow managed to get yourself free, Tex knew that he could outrun and overpower you in seconds. You had absolutely no chance of escape. He just needed to scare you enough to get you into the car with him, and from the looks of it you seemed to be absolutely petrified already. He watched your legs buckle underneath you, eyes wide and watery as you stared at him. 

“A-Are you gonna kill me, sir.” Maybe it was the way you looked at him like he had deeply betrayed you, or the fact that you had tears running down your cheeks. Perhaps it was the way your voice broke as you tried to speak, sounding far more innocent than anything or anyone Tex deserved to put his filthy hands on. Whatever it was, Tex felt like he was going to burst into tears right along with you. 

He blinked them away, quickly shaking his head in the hopes of alleviating your fears. “I promise you that I will not hurt you or let you be hurt by anyone else. I just gotta have you, is all.” 

Your shaky legs weren’t able to keep yourself up anymore. You were cut up and your muscles felt like jello from all of the constant kicking and jerking from earlier. The pure, unadulterated terror had filled your joints with cement. You had fought as hard as you could, and it still had been nowhere enough. You had seen movies in the past where girls were kidnapped or held for ransom, and you felt horrible now for ever thinking that they didn’t fight half as hard as they should have during those scenes. Because you must have looked the exact same way they did. Kicking and flailing without any real rhyme or reason, praying that your legs or fists might connect with something to make him back off of you. Now here you were, battered and bruised- and the worst part was that it was all your own fault. He really had stayed true to his word. He hadn’t hurt you at all, save for the fact that he had bound your wrists so tightly that it felt like it was cutting off your circulation. 

You looked up at him like he wasn’t speaking English at all. To you he might as well have been speaking in tongues. He had to have you? He noticed your confusion instantly. Tex had all of your mannerisms downpat already. You two might as well have been lovers for years. He studied you much like a devout catholic might study the holy bible. Front to back. No page left unturned. Every twitch of your nose, pout of your lips, and twinkle in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed by him. He wanted to massage the small line that was appearing between your furrowed brows, and now that he had you bound and weakened, he was finally able to. Tex let out a breathy sound that sounded like a sigh of relief to your ears as he pressed his thumb in between your eyes, rubbing out the worry lines that had appeared on your adorably scrunched up face. Your skin was hot, sticky with sweat under his hands. He was practically buzzing as he made the realization that he was touching you. . . touching you so nonchalantly. He’d be able to do this from now on too. 

“Ya see… I’ve been watchin’ your house for some time now. I came for Charlie but stayed for myself.” He told you this almost as though he was telling you that it was going to be overcast tomorrow. Not a lick of shame. 

At the mention of another man’s name your terror began to mount. Why did he want you? What would you be used for? Were there multiple men in on this kidnapping? Were your roommates in any danger? It was almost as though Tex could read your mind, quickly getting down on his knees in front of you, grabbing your shoulder in one strong hand. You noticed the scratches on them, the veins visible, twisting up his strong forearms. You immediately made the connection to the briar patches in the wooded area around you. 

“No one else will have anythin’ to do with ya, alright? Like I said darlin’, i ain’t gonna let nothin’ touch ya.” But you weren’t sure that you believed him. 

For a minute or two you both just looked at each other. He was willing you to trust him and you were willing him to let you go. His handsome features weren’t lost on you. Even despite the hell that he was bound to put you through, you couldn’t help but look up at him and see a beautiful face. Pillow plush lips, big blue eyes framed by thick lashes, and a body that both towered over you and easily overpowered you. He had slung you around like a ragdoll earlier. Like you weighed nothing more than a bag of downing feathers. 

He was oleander; both beautiful and deadly. 

Tex had left you alone for far too long. You had busied yourself with following the shapes and designs of his crumpled comforter with your eyes, hoping that it would fight off the panic and horror that was beginning to grip at your lungs. You still felt shaky, like at any moment you might break down into some unsalvageable fragment of your once carefree self. You readied yourself for the madness, but it didn’t come. No matter how hard you tried to disassociate from your current plane of existence, no relief was awarded. Whatever commune or “family” that Tex had dragged you into was one of labyrinthian complexity. He had parked his rickety car right in front of the farm, which happened to be not far from your very own home. It made you think that perhaps he had seen you driving home one day and had felt compelled to follow you onto your little safehaven of land. 

The girls and you had joked about it being your own little slice of heaven. A paradise. All the four of you had to do was look after the land and make sure that no one looted the house. Debbie’s father was a very kind and very rich man who never made a fuss about taking care of all of you. He had been born and raised in North Carolina; a man that had been brought up on good southern values. He loved his daughter more than anything, and so he always saw you as family. You had been there for Debbie when they had first moved to California, a fast made friend all the way back in high school. Your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest, aching to the point where you were sure that it might just pop in your small heaving chest as you began to imagine what Debbie might be feeling right about now. You always took such good care of her. Loved her and your other friends like sisters. They were probably in a frenzy, calling up all of your friends to see who might have been there with you. Who might have hurt you. 

All Tex had told you before sitting you down on his bed was that he had to talk to Charlie. Had to explain things to him and then all would be well. That must have been thirty minutes ago now. You had only caught a glimpse of the group of misfits on your way up the stairs to his room. Most of them looked high out of their minds. You recognized that glazed look in their eyes. You were all about people joining hands and living as one, but this wasn’t that. This was something strange all together. This was something so completely other that your brain couldn’t quite define what it was that you were thinking or feeling. All you knew for a fact was that alarm bells were sounding off in your head in a steady stream of white hot noise. You had seen a man that you thought might be Charlie. Three girls were practically laid out on top of him when you and Tex had walked through the front door.. One had been playing with his scraggly hair, the two others rolling what might be a smoke, but you knew was probably dope. 

You didn’t tend to judge when it came to couples like that. You’d seen your fair share of “free love” at festivals. Most polyamorous couples stuck to themselves, nothing more than good and honest people who had a little too much love in their hearts. There was something odd about the damn near robotic way the girls were fawning over that man though. Almost like they felt as though they needed to take care of him. Like they were nothing more than servants. Just homely little wives that were born and bred to fuck, feed, and fawn over him. You hoped that this wasn’t something that Tex expected of you. You hoped that in a few days he’d change his mind and bring you back. You already had a speech ready: If you take me back now I won’t tell anybody what I’ve seen or what you’ve done. I’ll just lie and say that I got a bad phone call and had to blow off steam for a few days. 

The sad thing was that your friends would probably believe that lie. Your home life has been one of constant disappointment and misery. No one would ever question Tex, and you sure as hell didn’t want to get yourself mixed up with the cops. Whatever was happening on this ranch was bad news. Really bad news. 

“Little lady?” Your sore muscles tightened again, wide eyes instantly flashing back over towards the closed door. It was Tex. His accent set him apart from everybody else. Made him memorable. 

He looked even taller than you remembered him being now that his back was pressed up against the doorway. He was quick to slip in, closing the door behind him. He seemed happy about something, and it unnerved you to no end. He was smiling at you almost as though he had just won the lottery. 

“Charlie said that you’re welcome here,” He purred out, striding towards you confidently before crouching down on his knees, placing one of his hands on your thigh as he spoke, acting as though the two of you had known each other for years. “You’re part of the family now, which means you don’t have to worry. No one is gonna hurt ya or try to take ya from me.” 

Your heart jumped, lodging itself in your throat. You felt light headed. His smile slowly fell, his blue eyes rounding a bit as he stood up hurriedly, laying you back against the mattress. His hands shook as he grabbed your calves, situating you on the bed so that he could pull the comforter up and over you. His sheets smelled like fresh ivory soap, sweat and man. Your vision was tunneling and your teeth chattering. What little hope you had that this delusional man would take you back home was gone. No. . . he didn’t look even the least bit nervous about taking you. What timidness he had shown during the drive up to the ranch must have been about whether or not Charlie’s reaction to your presence would be negative. Now that the confrontation was out of the way he seemed fit as a fiddle and right as rain. 

“Your lips are turning white. . . y-you okay, honey?” He was rubbing your arms up and down through the fabric of the comforter, your skin pulling uncomfortably at your wrists where you were still bound. “Come on. Speak to me. I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wron-” 

It was the utter audacity of the stranger that turned your nerves into rage. You felt it building up, the heart aching sadness morphing into some big, ugly beast that you didn’t recognize in yourself. “What’s wrong? I-I was just attacked in my own home and kidnapped. Now you’ve got me tied up in a house with a bunch of weirdos-” His large hand was quick to cover your mouth, his eyes narrowing on your face before turning towards the door quickly. He must have been nervous of someone overhearing you.

When his friends got their feelings hurt they usually blew the offender’s head off or slit their throats in their sleep. You tried to speak through his calloused hand, but he only pressed down harder, your lips digging uncomfortably into your teeth. His hand smelled of sweat, men's cologne and grass. Judging by his boots and dirt stained pants he had probably been working out in the yard before he had come for you. “Those weirdos have short tempers, darlin’. If someone hurts you. . .  then i’ll react with violence myself, and I don’t wanna make an enemy outta any of em’. Do you understand what I’m tryna say?” 

You didn’t understand exactly what he was saying… aside from the fact that he had just told you- in a rather roundabout way- that they were dangerous. You tried to calm down, realizing that panicking and yelling wasn’t going to get you anywhere with the man. You took a few steadying breaths through your nose, nodding your head to let him know that you were catching on to the severity of the situation. Slowly he removed his hand, allowing you to quickly lick your lips and gather your bearings. You could taste his salty sweat on your tongue and fought back the urge to spit. When you looked back up at him, ready to question as to what the hell was really going on, he seemed to be distracted with his hand. The very hand that had just been pressed against your lips. You cleared your throat to get his attention, hoping that you hadn’t ended up biting him by accident. He might have said that he wouldn’t hurt you, but that didn’t mean that you believed it. He seemed to be entranced by the palm that had been pressed against your lips. Before you could question him as to what he could be staring at, he brought his palm up to his mouth. You wanted to voice your disgust as you watched him drag his tongue along his calloused skin to lap up your spit. 

He let his eyes flicker up towards your face, almost like he was daring you to say something. It was almost like he wanted to explain himself. You didn’t want to act too shocked. Didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting some kind of reaction out of you. Now that he had removed the jet black cowboy hat from his head you could see his eyes better. They were as blue as a summer midday sky. They looked startlingly bright against his sun kissed skin. You needed to avert your eyes away from his face, especially since he was still licking at his palm, seemingly to get every remnant of what had been left over from your mouth. The heated eye contact that he was making with you whilst doing that had you nearly shivering as a result. It was startling. Grotesque. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. Like he wished it was your own mouth that he was lapping at instead. Or maybe even. . . 

You tightened your thighs on impulse, blinking wildly to rid yourself of the image that your panicked brain had conjured up. 

“W-What is your name?” You needed to work your way from the ground up, you could tell. He wasn’t about to volunteer sensitive information straight away. At least. . . you didn’t think that he trusted you that much yet. 

His face fell, his hand falling limply on top of your legs as it finally dawned on him that you didn’t even know his name. You really did no nothing about him. How ridiculous it was of him to forget. “Tex. Tex Watson.” He cleared his throat before letting his eyes bounce around the room, his cheeks getting a bit pinker as he continued. “I-I mean people call me Tex. I’d prefer it if you called me that too.” Which meant that Tex probably wasn’t his real name. Ah- there it was. The shame in his eyes. The sudden realization that you knew nothing about him, yet here he was, talking to you like you were long time lovers. Touching you like it was all he had been doing for years. 

The self reflection was gone just as soon as it had come though, a gleeful damn near smirk soon pulling at his lips. “Ask me anythin’ you want.” Perhaps he wanted you to ask about the happenings of the ranch. Maybe he enjoyed the fear that it was instilling in you. 

“What is this place?” You tried to keep your voice steady and school your face into an expression of slight indifference. If he was just playing with you like a cat would a mouse, the last thing you wanted to do was give him what he wanted. Maybe he would kill you quicker if you helped him play out whatever sick fantasy this was, and you couldn’t have that. Still though, you couldn’t help but find his behavior out of the ordinary for someone who might just want to kill you. No matter how terrified you were, you were beginning to believe him. He wasn’t going to kill you. He just wanted to keep you. Stare at you. Possibly even love you. It was odd, and to your sane and sound mind this was the farthest thing from normal, but if you had any hope of getting out of here alive and in one piece, you had to play along. 

“We call ourselves a family- one that you’re now’a part of,” He placed a hand on your cheek, and you couldn’t keep yourself from flinching, your body giving in to it’s natural instinct to evade his touch. If he noticed he didn’t seem to mind. He ran his thumb against your cheek, marveling at how soft it was. He was beginning to feel a bit more greedy with his touches. “But Charles looks after all of us. We have a divine purpose on this earth. You do too. I knew it from the very first second that’a laid eyes on ya. Ya were destined to be my wife.” 

You found out a lot about the family and it’s dynamic. Charles was the leader and they- the people that you had seen downstairs- were his followers. Most of the women in the family were romantically involved with the man in charge, and they called themselves his “wives”. The more Tex spoke, the faster you realized that this place was less of a group of friends and more of some sort of a religious cult. They seemed to believe that it was their duty to help and bring on the apocalypse. From what you could remember of the countless brainwashing bible camps that your parents had forced you to attend, the apocalypse was supposed to not only be the end of the world as everyone knew it, but the end of the human race. No one evaded death. The good went to heaven and the bad suffered and went to hell. 

Did this mean that Tex and the rest of his “family” members wanted people to die? Did they do any killing?  It was all very strange and very confusing. You pried a little bit more about Tex and how he fit into the hierarchy of the family. He seemed to be high up on the totem pole, stating that the only person that he answered to was Charles himself. You asked whether or not he had any other wives, but he was quick to try and “alleviate your fears”, letting you know that he strictly practiced monogamy. 

You asked him questions until the sun set behind your beloved mountain, the two of you now talking in a dark room. He offered to feed you, bringing back a plate of dinner that one of Charlie’s “wives” had prepared for the entire ranch, but you declined. You were positive that if you tried to eat anything that it would come right back up. He had hesitantly accepted the fact that you were in no state to eat, finishing the plate of food himself. 

Getting to know Tex did nothing to deaden your fears. If anything, you felt terrified for your well being far more than you had before. He was absolutely unhinged, but the fact that his friends were ten times worse was crystal clear. As long as you laid low in the house and stuck to Tex like glue, it sounded like you would be able to slip right under the radar. There was no way you were going to get off of the ranch by yourself, so you needed help. You needed Tex’s help to do that, so you needed to get on his good side sooner rather than later. You couldn’t afford to have a mental breakdown- not yet at least. You could scream and cry after you were home safe. 

After he had told you his entire life story he seemed content enough to place his hands on his knees, standing up with a small groan before heading towards the ensuite bathroom. Being left alone, even if he was just in the other room, made your body lock up in terror. You were able to shyly ask him through your nervous cottonmouth whether or not he’d be willing to let you sit in the bathroom with him. He seemed to hesitate but gave in regardless. It wasn’t until the both of you were standing under the bright fluorescent lights in the bathroom that he finally realized how horrible your bound hands looked. They were practically white from the lack of circulation. “God damn it, baby! Why didn’t you tell me ‘bout this?” He was quick to exclaim, hurriedly reaching into the back pocket of his pants and pulling out a pocket knife. You were unable to keep from letting out a small shriek, backing up against the bathroom sink as tightly as you could. He threw his free hand up in what seemed to be exhaustion and annoyance. 

“I just rattled on for ages about how I was meant to marry ya, and you think imma hurt you? Stop fussin’ so much, alright? You’re safe. I’ve got ya. I have the means to protect ya, so nothin’ is gonna happen.” With that being said he closed the gap between your bodies, shoving the knife under the tightly wrapped cord and pulling, hacking away binds. 

The second that the blood started rushing back to your hands you felt a sharp sting. You flinched and tried desperately to get your fingers to move. Tex closed the pocket knife, shoving it back in his back pocket before reaching out for your hands, rubbing at the sore skin with his thumbs. It felt like you had ducked your hands into a pocket of spiders, your nerves twitching and coming back to life. After making sure that you were alright, Tex stood up a little straighter, nodding his head towards the bathroom door. 

“I don’t like threatenin’ you, honey, but you need to know that if you leave this room without me there will be consequences.” His hands moved to his shirt as he spoke to you, slipping it off without any hesitation in front of you. You were quick to avert your eyes as his hands moved down to his pants, biting down on your lower lip as you tried to keep yourself from screaming yet again. How could he ever think that this was normal? 

“You can look if you want,” He was still standing right in front of you, his deep voice still sounding just as close. “It’s all yours.” 

It’s not like you had never had sex before, but it was infrequent enough for the shame of this entire situation to redden your cheeks and ears. Your roommates weren’t opposed to sleeping with friends or strangers on a regular basis, and while you never judged them for what they did, you weren’t the kind of person to involve yourself with someone you didn’t know well enough. You half expected Tex to try and coerce you, but the second he saw the look on your face he turned the shower on, climbing in and closing the curtain tight behind him. 

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have undressed in front of ya. That was wrong of me.” That was the most regretful that you’d heard him sound this entire time. “I just. . . I just love ya so much. It’s very hard to control myself, but I will. You don’ have to be afraid of me.” But you were. Terrified. Petrified even. You didn’t answer him. 

“I know that eventually you’ll come ‘round. You’ll see. You’re mine and I’m yours, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to be between a married couple?” You had dropped your head into your hands as you sat down on the counter, your feet dangling above the floor. You didn’t have the energy left to be shocked. 

“Married?” Your voice came out more even than you expected it to. 

“Spiritually, at least. We’ve been tethered since our very inception. That’s what Charlie told me at least, and I believe him.” But you sure as hell didn’t. 

Much like you had done with the comforter just hours ago, you laid awake on your back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. You tried to find any cracks or imperfections with your eyes, making unnecessary note of each one. Tex, though he had stayed true to his word the entire night and hadn’t hurt nor forced himself upon you, had insisted that you sleep with him in his room. He had given you space, scooting back far enough on the bed to where only your feet touched under the blanket. You’d be lying if you didn’t think about making a run for it, and he had made sure to let you know that staying with him would be safer than running into his friends downstairs. It wasn’t exactly a threat, but sure as hell felt like one. You hadn’t been able to fully relax until you heard his breathing even out, risking a glance over at him once you were absolutely certain that he had fallen asleep. 

Once again, the duality of him was on full display. It was difficult- damn near impossible- to imagine someone that looked like he did to do such a thing. How could he kidnap anyone when he looked like an angel? He had held you at gunpoint not even five hours ago, yet here he was, lashes gently fluttering as he dreamed. The gentle slope of his nose was nuzzled against his dark green pillow case, and the hair that was still wet from his shower was sticking to his cheeks. Now that his blue eyes were closed you were able to see just how thick his lashes were, even in the pale moonlight. The worst part was how innocent he looked. You hated him, but there was a small part of you that didn’t want to. 

Was the crime that he committed a good indication that he had mental health issues? Was he someone that should be pitied rather than detested? Still, he was articulate and had a way with storytelling. He seemed intelligent and calculated with his thoughts and decisions. 

You spent the rest of the night like that, staring up at the ceiling and trying to come up with excuses for his bad behavior. You had drifted off a few times, but startled awake whenever you felt his large body shift closer to yours, unused to sleeping next to someone. Your body was on high alert, sensitive to everything around you. 

These anxieties bled into your daily life on the ranch. The more days passed though, the less afraid you were that you were going to be hurt. Rather you became hyper aware of Tex rather than just the things around you. Tex’s friends didn’t seem very interested in talking to you, not even during dinner. 

Their loud voices blended in with the constant music pouring out of the media system in the living room. The Beatles, Neil Young and The Beach boys became the soundtrack to your everyday life. You weren’t mad about the incessant background noise either. It was in the dead of night when no one was awake to flip the vinyl that things got eerie. Silence became your worst enemy. You’d wake up in the dead of night to the dull crackling downstairs from the speakers, all of your newest fears at the forefront of your mind. Tex got closer to you as the days passed. He was testing the waters and chipping away at your resolve. You’d lost the fight that you once had, so you no longer pushed away his arms when he pulled you into a hug. He loved to be touching you at all times. Whether it was him brushing his hand against yours, placing your thighs over his lap when the two of you were in the living room, or even pressing his nose against the back of your head as you both slept so that he could breathe in your scent. You’d never had a serious boyfriend in your life, and to be touched constantly at all hours of the day made you feel confused and conflicted. 

It also didn’t help that Tex wasn’t exactly a monster. He had asked to kiss you a few times as the days passed by, and all it took was a shake of your head for him to give up. Anything farther than fleeting touches were off limits to him. Even when you felt his hands shaking with need as they brushed over your thighs, he never pushed you. He never took too much from you. It was easy to fall into a pattern of monotony. Tex would wake up early to feed the animals, letting you sleep in when exhaustion was still melting you into the mattress. Then breakfast was served, oftentimes you helped the other girls wordlessly. You used to cook for your girls everyday, so the task made you feel normal. Like your life hadn’t just been torn from you. Then you and Tex would drift into the living room and listen to music with Charlie and the rest of the group. The way that they all spoke to one another just seemed like a close knit group of friends shooting the shit to most, but you knew that there were secret codes and heavy meanings between each nod of their head or odd hand movement. Tex might have loved you, but that didn’t mean that he planned to tell you everything about his life. 

The group rarely called you by your name. They’d assigned you little nicknames, which was supposed to make you feel more comfortable around them. Tex also had a habit of referring to you as “the ole’ lady”, which you didn’t hate half as much as you should have. 

“Why are you so against me dyin’ my hair?” He spoke up from his spot on the corner of the tub, picking at a small hole on his bell bottoms as he waited for you to get started. He had been wearing the same shirt that you had worn yesterday before he had shrugged it off and over his head, not wanting to stain it. That was another thing that made you homesick. The group liked to share clothes. 

You were clutching the bottle to your chest, glaring at the back of his head as you tried to come up with an answer. “I just don’t think black hair is going to look good on you, is all.” You grumbled, quickly evading his eyes as he turned his head to face you with a smirk. 

“So. . . what yer’ tellin’ me is that’cha like my natural hair color? S’ that it?” Damn him and his dumb accent. Damn him and his big blue eyes. Damn him. 

Instead of answering you simply reached out, giving his hair a quick tug. You were trying to be mean to him and to get him to stop his teasing, but you being the one to initiate the touching must have caught him off guard. He let out a loud yelp, the sound echoing around the tiled bathroom. A few seconds afterwards you heard a shuddered breath slip past his lips, and the sound made you clench your jaw. His hands moved out to grip the sides of the porcelain tub until his knuckles were white, the muscles of his bare back tightening. There it was again. The tension was often unbearable between the two of you. Your passionate distaste for him had shifted into a passionate “something”. You just couldn’t pinpoint what it could possibly be. What it could mean for you. The fact that you could even tolerate the asshole wasn’t right. It made you think of your mother, who loved your father despite the constant hell he put her through. 

All men had ever done was disappoint you and let you down. Tex, while he had done something awful to you and had hurt you, was always so soft with you. He did things without having to be told. He looked out for you. He tucked you in at night. He looked at you almost as though you were the only woman on the entire planet. He couldn’t get enough of you. He never stopped telling you how much he loved you, and you believed him. Maybe you were just as sick in the head as he was, because you believed that he loved you. When he said that there was no one else out there for him, you knew that he was telling the truth. It was because of this constant attention that you found it hard to deny yourself of the urge to explore. There was this insanely bratty part of yourself that wanted to test him and his devotion for you. 

You stared down at his chocolate brown hair for a few more seconds, rubbing your fingers against a few fine strands before saying your final goodbye to his natural color. “Don’t cry to me when you look ridiculous though.” You tried to sound cold, but really just sounded like a nagging girlfriend. He didn’t seem to mind. You could hear him chuckling softly, his eyes glued to the yellow shower tiles in front of him. It didn’t take you long to apply the black dye, tossing the applicator in the trash once you were finished. His sudden urge to dye his hair confused you to no end, but very little of what Tex did made complete sense. 

“How long do ya think I should leave this in for?” He finally asked, standing up inside of the tub and stretching out his long arms up and over his head as he waited for your answer. You watched the muscles in his shoulders tense, his biceps bulging ever so slightly with the movement. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed you staring, but you turned away from him to wash your hands at the sink before he could say anything. 

“Uh. . . probably twenty minutes, I’d think.” You had gotten a few specks of dye on your wrists and palm, and no matter how hard you scrubbed at the skin with soap it didn’t want to wash out. Tex seemed to stain you that very same way. He had tainted you- did something fucked up to your mind, and now you were different. You felt damn near brainwashed at this point. You’d never be the same. He’d stuck himself right onto you, and no matter how badly you wanted him off, he wasn’t leaving. 

You scrubbed at your palm until your hand was raw, Tex being the one to walk over to the sink and turn off the water. You dared a glance up at him, looking through your lashes. His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion at your odd behavior. You did this every now and again. It was almost as though you were too stuck in your own mind to really understand what was going on around you. This was one of those times. 

“You’re gonna make yourself bleed, honey.” He took your palm in his hand, covering it with his unstained fingers. 

You dared to look up at him, taking in his face against the black inky locks that hung down around him. You had smoothed the hair off of his face and neck so as to not stain him. You weren’t sure why you had been so gentle and considerate with him, but you had been. You weren’t sure if you regretted it either. He didn’t look half bad with black hair, and that made you want to rub at your skin even harder. If anything he still looked just as great. His eyes were such a vibrant shade of blue now that you found it hard to look away. If someone wanted to paint Tex, all they needed to do was grab a true shade of blue and mix it with a little white- they were so pretty that it was unnatural. 

You snatched your hand out of his grip, clearing your throat before backing out of the room. You needed to escape and fast. Something registered in his eyes. They widened a bit, his lips parting in silent shock. You wanted to play dumb. You wanted to ask him what had his stupid jaw on the floor, but you knew that he had made a vital, fucking dangerous realization. 

He finally realized that you were attracted to him. 

Not just in passing, but as someone that you were beginning to enjoy being around. The kind of attraction that often resulted in dating in the normal, real world. You didn’t want to give him any time to mull over it either. If Tex said something to you, you weren’t sure whether or not you could answer him without sacrificing a vital part of yourself. The part of yourself that had been keeping you safe the last few weeks. The part of yourself that had shielded you from the fact that no one had come looking for you on the ranch. No one probably thought that you were really gone. Was your mother worried that you hadn’t called? Did your father even really care? 

You sat in the bedroom alone for the next fifteen minutes, pacing back and forth next to the bed. Now that the shower was running, you knew that he would be unable to stop you from looking through his things. Your fear of being caught had been too great up until this point, but the self loathing made you bold. Most of his drawers were filled with pants, jackets, and shirts. You riffled through them and found nothing out of the ordinary. His bedside table was a little more exciting, but only because you had found drugs. He had a few novels shoved in, along with what you knew had to be tabs of acid. It wasn’t until you ducked your head underneath the bed that you finally found what you had been expecting to find all along. 

That revolver along with box after box of ammunition. Your hands shook as you reached under the bed to grab the weapon, swallowing thickly as you held it up in front of you to get a better look at it. This was the same one that Tex had pointed at you the day that he took you. It was odd to see it up close, and even more odd that you were the one holding it. Not once in your life had you ever shot a gun, but you could probably find out through trial and error. How hard could it be, right?

 There were other weapons underneath his bed that made your heart pound. Ropes and knives among other things that you couldn’t bear to stare at for too long. But then, further back, there was a shoebox that felt out of place amongst the other things. Setting the gun down you reached out, biting your lip as you dragged it out from underneath the bed as well, looking anxiously at the bathroom door. You were past the point of feeling guilty for prying. You tossed the lid off, your face paling instantaneously. Pictures. Pictures of your old kitchen, living room, and bedroom. You were in every single one, either smiling at something one of the girls had said or busying yourself with a task. Most of the photos weren’t so innocent though. No- There were pictures of you naked in front of your bedroom window, getting ready for bed. Your breasts were on full display as you looked out the window. You remembered those nights. You remembered how uncomfortable you had felt in your own home, almost as though someone was watching you. You tore the photos out, flipping through them with trembling fingers. What was underneath the photos was worse. Ten times worse. A hundred times worse. 

Panties. Panties that you had worn and thrown into the dirty clothes weeks ago, only for them to go missing. You let out a small whimper when you grabbed a pair, holding them up in front of you just to check. Just to see if he had done anything. You regretted it the second that you saw the stain. “Oh my god. . .” You threw them back into the box, pushing the pictures under the bed with hurried hands. 

There it was. The truth. All laid out in front of you. 

Maybe he wasn’t ever going to kill you, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a killer. If the cops came out here looking for him, you were sure that you’d be roped in with the lot of them. You would be seen as nothing more than another one of those hippies that runs off and joins a cult. You stood up and off of the ground, the gun still clasped tightly in your hand. You were shaking so badly that you weren’t sure how you were even able to keep hold of the thing. Has anything he told you about himself been the truth, or had he been lying this entire time? Spinning this huge web of stories just to catch you, waiting until you were completely tangled up just to sink his fangs into you. Were you hyperventilating? Were you crying? You slapped a hand against your cheek, wiping at the soft skin there. Sure enough you were in full blown hysterics. 

Here it was. The long awaited mental breakdown. 

Had you really been sleeping in a house with murderers this entire time? Sitting at the dinner table and breaking fucking bread with them all? You stumbled over towards the bedroom door, creaking it open to pop your head out and listen out for Charlie and his other followers. Someone was playing an acoustic guitar downstairs, all of them probably reading the bible and coming up with more religious nonsense to fuel their evil intentions. You let your eyes flicker to the bannister just down the hall that led out to the kitchen, trying to map out just how long it would take you to sneak your way through the kitchen door. You’d gone through that creaky door enough to know that everyone in the house would hear it open. You’d have to outrun men who had far longer legs than you. Even with the gun, you weren’t quite sure you could make it down the mountain to your home, or even to the main road. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” You gasped so loudly that you nearly coughed, your heart rattling in your chest as you swung around, pointing the gun out with a trembling hand. 

Tex was drying his hair with a towel, his bell bottoms hanging low on his waist, the front unzipped to reveal the hem of his briefs. His plush lips pulled down into a frown as he raised his hands up in surrender. He didn’t look scared. Didn’t look angry. He looked annoyed and exasperated, like he had caught his child sticking their little nose into something that they shouldn’t have. He popped his hip out, putting his weight on one leg as he shook his head back and forth. 

“S’ya were goin’ through my things?” He looked around you at the open door, letting out a small sigh before he took a step forward. You put your finger on the trigger as he began walking closer, your jaw dropping as he rolled his eyes. 

“Stop! I’ll do it. I-I’ll shoot!” Without a second thought he gripped the barrel of the gun, easily angling it upwards and towards the ceiling as he boxed you in with his tall body, pushing the door closed behind you. 

You tried to jerk the gun out of his grasp, but he held on tight, not budging at all. You were boxed in against the door, his hand still pressed against the wood behind you. He leaned in close, his breath fanning over your face as he spoke. “You ain’t gonna do nothin’, lil lady.” 

It wasn’t a challenge. It wasn’t him mocking you. He was saying that he knew that you didn’t have what it takes to hurt him. Sure, you would have been able to shoot and injure him at such short range if you had the guts to actually pull the trigger. There was a chance that if you had shot him that you might have killed him, but there was also the large possibility that you might have missed. The gun was shaking like crazy in your grasp, never once being aimed at any of his vital points. Factually, if the gun had gone off he might have been fine. He also knew you better than you knew yourself. You wouldn’t hurt him. No. . . no. . . not when you liked him so much. 

He gently removed the gun from your grasp, letting out a small sigh as he tossed it onto the dresser with a loud thunking noise. He raked his hands through his soaking wet hair and dropped the towel so that he could give you his full attention. If you had snuck your little ass out of here while he was in the shower? His heart was pounding as he thought about what might have happened. If someone hurt you in the process of your escape, he’d annihilate the entire family without a second thought. He had enough ammunition beneath his bed to start a war. 

Because Tex would have rather died than ever actually hurt you. He couldn’t even imagine your pretty little body completely still, utterly unmoving. The mere idea of you dying, even at the hands of fate, had him nearly doubling over. He could see the way that you eyed the revolver that he had on his dressing table. Your overly tired brain was trying to string together some sort of plan to overpower him in order to get your hands on the weapon. He could practically see the cogs turning. Even if you did succeed in killing him, there was no promise that you would make it off of the ranch alive. Tex had already put himself in the line of fire when he had decided to save you. His own neck was on the chopping block now, and he knew with surety that the other member’s of this cursed family were looking for any reason to slit his throat while he slept. Dying for you, especially after all of the wrong that he had done in his life, seemed like a pretty good way to go. If you killed him before he could get you off of that mountain and as far away from California as he could get you, then you’d be next. A simple revolver, buck knife, and whatever else Tex had in his room wasn’t going to save you from Charlie’s wrath. You were severely outskilled and outnumbered. 

“How about we play a game?” Tex watched you flinch at the sudden sound of his deep voice, your eyes widening as you watched him cross the room to grab the gun. You were quick to back up into the bedside table, arm reaching behind you for something to grab onto. The sight of him holding the gun so nonchalantly by his side reminded you of just how many people might have met their maker at the other end of that thing. Your breath came out of you in deep pants, your legs growing wobbly beneath you as you yanked up the glass lamp, the plug sparking as it was roughly ripped from the wall. 

Tex was quick to hold the hand that had the gun clasped in it in front of you, his fingers off of the trigger. His other arm was out in surrender. He didn’t need you getting glass on the floor unnecessarily, especially if it meant that you might end up cutting yourself by accident. “Hey- hey there, little lady. I’m not gonna hurt you. See?” He opened the chamber, letting the bullets spill out into his hand. The cold metal rattled, and slowly you inched forward, leaning a few inches closer to him so that you could make sure that he wasn’t trying to take you for some sort of fool. 

“Look, honey. I’ve taken all the bullets out.” As if to prove his point the man slapped his palm against the barrel, it clicking back in place. He pulled back the hammer of the gun, aiming it to the ceiling. Click. Shoot. Click. Shoot. Click. Shoot. Nothing. No sheets of plaster rained down on you. No deafening shot echoed through the room. He really had removed all of the bullets. He smiled that straight, white smile at you as he watched your shoulders relax. You refused to die here. You couldn’t do it. You were a nervous wreck, your emotions all over the place. You were so used to men treating you roughly. The no good sort of men that Tex made look like babies. 

The man standing before you, his newly black dyed hair still soaking wet and dripping onto his shoulders, confused you. It was so easy to despise him. He had stalked you with the purpose of killing you. Him forcing you to come with him up to the ranch did you no favors either. He tried to convince you that you were safe with him, but you could hear the other murderers downstairs even now, their loud whoops and laughter making your chest burn and your blood go hot. It was easy to hate him for everything that he had done. He had murdered people, and you weren’t even sure how many. He had ripped your life away from you in the blink of an eye, and tried to manipulate you into believing that it was for the greater good. What you absolutely couldn’t stand was the fact that it was working. Maybe it was because your past relationships with men had shaped and molded you to be the perfect candidate for manipulation. Tex was a horrible person, and he had turned your life completely upside down without any permission to do so. He had taken almost every bit of your free will from you, not allowing you to make your own decisions. 

But no one had ever loved you the way that Tex presumably did. No one had ever looked at you the way that he looked at you. 

“What kind of game?” Your mouth felt like it was going numb, your hip still pressed hard into his bedside table, the lamp clutched in your hand. 

His blue eyes looked startling against his black hair. It was unreal how vibrant they were. They flickered down to your hand, staring at the lamp before he motioned towards his hand that held the bullets with a nod of his head. “It’s called Russian Roulette. Except this time we cut the bullshit and raise the stakes.” 

You knew that if you said no that he would drop the subject. You also knew that, as far as you could tell, that he had no intentions of ever hurting you. “Raise the stakes?” You hated that you were so naturally curious. Your heart was pounding incredibly hard in your chest. You could feel it in your throat. 

He smiled down at his boots, trying his best to hide the sly nature of it from view. He knew that he had you on the hook now that you were asking questions. “Each time we pull the trigger,” he popped a single bullet into the barrel. “And the gun doesn’t go off, we take off an article of clothing.”

You hated him. 

You also hated the fact that you couldn’t find it within yourself to truly hate him. 

Your hands shook as you placed the lamp back down on the wooden table with a clatter, your eyes flickering back up to his. “And what happens once we’re naked, huh? Why not just say that you want to see me naked. You haven’t exactly been a gentleman this entire time.” Your voice was shaking, and he seemed to take advantage of the weak tremor. He knew that all he had to do was calm you down. Lay out the facts all nice and pretty for you so that you can finally make your decision. 

“I do want to see you naked.” He didn’t miss a beat. He didn’t shy away from telling you the truth, because there would be no use in denying it. He had already confessed his feelings. He knew that you felt how stiff he was this morning, pressed up against your side. Tex might be a mass murderer, but he wasn’t a fuckin’ liar. There was very little that the blue eyed man hated more than a filthy liar. “But like I said. . . I think it’s about time that we cut the bullshit. I love chasing after you. We’ve got a fun little game goin’, the two of us.” He motioned between the two of you with the gun, his eyes twinkling as he looked at your face. “But I want you, and I know that you want me.” He took a step closer to you, and if you hadn’t already cornered yourself against the nightstand, then you would have taken a step back. 

Your hand gripped tightly onto the edge of the table, eyes widening as he crossed the room so that he could stand in front of you. He was so close that your chests were touching. The bullets clattered against the wood behind you, but he kept the gun secure in his hand. “There’s just one bullet in the cylinder.” He assured you, angling the gun so that you could see. 

Through all the niceties and gentle touches, you had never stopped reminding yourself that Tex was slightly insane. He had to be a little crazy to join Charlie. This was your first time seeing that part of him. His eyes were wild as they took in the scared expression on your face, almost like he was enjoying your fear. He liked the meek, meager little expression on your face and the way that you had cornered yourself. If only you knew the half of it. If only you knew how turned on he was just by your glassy eyes alone. He wanted to possess you, body and soul. If he could have hollowed out your bones and fit his way inside of them- he would have. 

‘Surely,’ He thought as he looked down at you. ‘No one has ever loved anyone else quite as much as I love her.’ 

“Here, I’ll teach ya how to do it.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, causing you to jump. He could feel your little heart pounding against his side, and it reminded him of a little rabbit. Jumpy, terrified, but just as adorable. “You press this button to release the cylinder,” He demonstrated for you. “And then you spin it. Don’t worry about the bullet coming out. It’s in there snug.” And then he slapped the cylinder back in place, putting the gun in your shaky palm. His large, warm hand swallowed yours up whole as he raised your arm, rubbing your finger so that he could nudge it onto the trigger. “And then you squeeze the trigger.” He raised the gun and your arm up to the side of his head. 

You could have vomited, the fear gripping you so hard that you found it hard to breathe. But there was this strange sensation- a heat pooling in your abdomen as you thought about where this all might lead. You could try to convince yourself that you wanted him to die all you wanted, but the gun against the man’s head was a terrifying sight. Being alone on this ranch would most likely have deadly consequences, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t the reason why you were so terrified of him dying. The truth was entirely unwelcome: you liked him. God damn it, you actually liked him. 

“I’ll go first.” He stated, not a hint of fear in his eyes. He looked at you hungrily, like he could devour you whole. He pressed his finger down on yours, and in turn you were steadily putting pressure on the trigger. You wanted to say no. Wanted to scream at him to stop and that you changed your mind. You couldn’t find your voice. Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. 

There was a heat pooling between your legs that you felt insanely guilty about. 

Before you knew it the trigger had been pulled completely, a soft click echoing around the silent room. He smiled brightly at you, slowly removing his hand from yours. Your arm fell limply at your side, the gun still in your hand. He had just pulled the trigger and hadn’t even flinched. He could have died, and it would have been nobody else’s fault except for his, and he didn’t seem to care. The danger seemed to rile him up. 

“Looks like I’m safe.” The jean button up shirt that he was wearing was the first article of clothing to come off. His long, nimble fingers made quick work with the buttons. 

You watched as he slipped the faded blue fabric from off of his shoulders, revealing his lean body. His skin was golden from long hours spent outside in the California sun. No matter how skinny he appeared to be in his clothes, you could tell that he was surprisingly strong. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were on full display, his prominent v-line disappearing beneath his jeans. He was beautiful. Truly beautiful. 

You hated him for that too. 

The gun suddenly felt very heavy in your hand, and you remembered that it was now your turn to go. You brought the revolver up, twisting your hand this way and that to take a good look at it. You wanted to prolong this moment. You needed to calm your pounding heart or else you feared that it might stop all together. People could die from fear, right? You sucked in a breath, nearly jumping out of your skin when Tex made a small noise right across from you. It was a breathy sounding groan that felt so out of place during a moment like this. You let your eyes flicker up to his face, noticing his flushed cheeks and parted lips. 

“That gun looks so pretty in your hands, honey.” He licked his lips, motioning towards the gun hurriedly. “Show it to me.” His voice was now barely above a whisper. 

You felt confused yet again, his reactions coming across as unnatural. Here you were, standing before him with a loaded weapon, and he was moaning at the mere sight of you. “You’re crazy.” You whispered, your hand beginning to shake as you raised the gun a little more, nearly pointing it at him. 

His lashes fluttered as he stared at your hand, taking his bottom lip between his teeth so that he could bite down on it. You nearly dropped the weapon when you watched him readjust himself in his jeans, your eyes widening as you finally realized that he was hard. He was actually getting off on all of this. You let your eyes drink in the sight of him for a few more seconds. You traced the shape of him through the pants, trying hard not to dwell on the fact that he appeared large, even through the cloth. 

Slowly, never taking your eyes off of him, you did as you were taught. Your finger pressed against the cylinder release, gave it a good spin, and then slapped it back into place. Tex seemed tense as he watched the cylinder spin, but relaxed when he noticed something that your eyes didn’t. Your hand shook as you brought the gun to your head and pulled back the hammer. 

“You're safe, baby. I wanna see you do it. Pull the trigger.” 

You hated that you trusted him so implicitly. You squeezed down on the trigger, squeezing your eyes shut as your heart continued to pound away in your chest. The clicking sound echoed in your ears, your arm limply falling to your side as the damn near euphoric relief spread through you. It fizzled hot in your blood like champaign, setting every nerve ablaze. At the sight of your heaving chest Tex took a step closer to you, reaching out for the gun. He licked his lips hungrily as he stared at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he took in your relieved expression. The flush on your cheeks was adorable. He took the gun from your shocked form, giving you a few seconds to recuperate before he reminded you of the rules. 

You just stood there staring at him, bubble gum lips parted as you sucked in air. You looked like a deer in headlights, and he wanted to devour you. The need to touch you, any part of you was overwhelming. It had been for weeks. Some nights he only pretended to sleep, just so that he could press himself against you. Feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest under his hand. He wanted to rip you to shreds only to put you back together again, piece by piece. Tex’s adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, clenching his jaw as he tried to show restraint. You hadn’t turned him down yet. Not today at least. You wanted this. You were okay with this. 

He had you and he was never going to lose you. He’d keep you locked up and tied down if he had to. And if you ever happened to get away from him, he’d find you. Ohh. . . he’d find you. 

You jerked back in shock as you felt the cold barrel of the gun press against your belly, Tex using it to push the fabric up. You’d been too busy staring at him to remember the rules of the game. Now it was your turn to remove something. 

“Off.” Was all he said, his eyes burning holes into your body. 

You gripped the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head before tossing it onto the ground. You wanted to hide yourself away from him once you realized that you weren’t wearing a bra. You started to cover yourself up, but stopped as Tex merely shook his head. Don’t hide from me. 

 It was nothing he hadn’t already seen though. The pictures. 

The reminder of them made your stomach tighten, the heat between your legs becoming more prominent. Your face heated up in shame as you finally gave in. You surrendered to the full truth of it all. You couldn’t hide or run from it any longer. There was no escaping it anymore. 

Tex’s devotion turned you on. Tex’s obsession made you feel loved and taken care of and you wanted to fuck him. You’d been attracted to him this entire time, too blinded by your own fear to realize that you were fucked up enough to develop feelings. Maybe it was familial trauma. Maybe it was all of the bad dates you’d been subjected to. Or maybe it was just you. Either way, there it was. All out in the open for you. You weren’t nearly as insane as Tex. You were no killer. You didn’t have it in you to hurt a fly, but his hands were capable. 

He was big and strong. He could protect you. He was begging to let you relinquish your control and let him look after you. You’d never been looked after in your life, and yet here he was, looking at you like you were the messiah. You watched those big, capable hands clench into fists as he took you in. He was trying not to touch you. 

“As soon as you give me the word. . . i’m going to eat you alive.” Those blue eyes were pinning you down, narrowed and heavy and so full of adoration. 

You could feel your slick already pooling in your underwear, your eyes fluttering closed for just a second as you tried to ground yourself. You had to stay steady. You had to play this game with him for just a little longer. He was practically vibrating with need and you wanted to test him. Wanted to see him fall apart before he absolutely destroyed the last bit of sanity you were clinging to. 

He pressed the button, spun the cartridge all while watching it closely and then slammed it closed. He pressed the barrel right back up to his temple, pulling the trigger without flinching. Without blinking. 

“Are ya gonna let me have it?” You couldn’t fully process what he was asking you, just that his accent was sexy and his voice was so deep that it was vibrating in his chest. 

“H-Have what?” You licked your lips, not missing the way he followed your tongue with his eyes. 

He might as well have already been inside of you. Your knees were already starting to buckle and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

“Your body,” He handed you the gun, pulling his already undone jeans off of his legs. “I already own your soul, but I want it all. I want ya so bad that I nearly came in my pants just seein’ your tits. So are ya gonna give it to me now, or are ya gonna make me wait longer? Cause I can’t take it anymore, darlin’. I can’t keep lovin’ ya the way that I do and not fuck ya.” 

Your eyes flickered back down to his crotch, your mouth filling with saliva as you noticed how hard he was. You could make out the exact shape of him, his length uncomfortably trapped beneath his tight briefs. He was gorgeous. Absolutely perfect. 

And you didn’t answer at first. 

Instead you just played the game. You pressed the button. You spun the cartridge while he watched closely. You slammed it back in place and then you pressed it against your temple. “Let me touch you. Fuck. . . Please let me just touch you.” Click. 

You tossed the gun onto the bed, unbuttoning your own bell bottoms and pulling them down and off of your legs. You kicked them away from you, nodding your head towards the gun so that he would feel inclined to continue himself. He was in disbelief. Not only were you playing along but you seemed to be liking it just as much as he was. How could someone be as perfect as you were? How could you be real? He scooped the gun back up, knowing that there was just one more thing he had left to take off. 

“If I take these off, will you add them to your little collection?” His eyes flickered down to your panties. The pretty pink bow. The lacy red fabric. He turned his attention towards the other side of the bed, realizing that you must have seen every secret that he kept hidden in his room. This turned him on even more. His hips involuntarily jutted forward, meeting nothing but air. 

“F-Fuck. . .” He didn’t have words. He wanted to tease you and make it harder on you, but he could barely function. He was beginning to get scared that if you did let him touch you, that he might hurt you. He might lose himself completely. Tex didn’t mind though. You owned him. He was all yours. 

And so he went through the motions one last time. Button, spin, and shoot. He watched to make sure that he was safe from the bullet, pulling the trigger that one last time. He didn’t let go of the gun this time when he shrugged off his underwear, his cock springing loose. He watched you take him in. You drank in the sight of him, the poor thing practically throbbing with need. He was bigger than anyone else you’d ever been with, and a part of you worried whether or not you’ll actually be able to comfortably take him. His angry red tip was weeping with pre cum, his underwear slick and stained with it as he licked it away from him. That was all it took. 

“Please.” And your voice sounded so small. So pathetic. So broken. 

He lurched forward, his muscles already tense and ready to attack. His lips pressed against yours so hard that you thought that your top lip might be bleeding. The free hand that wasn’t holding the gun gripped the side of your head, holding you to him as he forced his tongue into your mouth, his teeth gently knocking against yours as he opened his mouth to absorb your shaky breaths. Your mouths moved in sync, his lips as pillow soft as you expected them to be. He smelled so good fresh out of the shower, his warm hands all over you, cold drops of hair falling onto your shoulders as he pressed your bare chests against one another. He couldn’t be close enough. You bit his bottom lip, your eyes fluttering open just so that you could see him only to find that he was already watching you with half lidded eyes. He moaned into your mouth as he realized that he had been caught. The guttural sound, the smell of him as well as the way that he tasted was enough to make you bite down harder on his lower lip, his hips jerking forward as he grunted in pain. You could taste blood. 

His blood. 

You licked that up to, hands gripping at anything you could reach. 

You felt something press into the hem of your panties, shivering against the cold metal as he brought the gun down further and further. He pressed the barrel against your heat, rubbing and nudging, stimulating you. You gasped loudly as you became aware of the fact that he was touching you with the gun. He stopped his movement against your clit only for a second, using the gun to slip your panties to the side. You felt it now against your bare skin, sliding against your soaking core. 

“You’re so wet… are you turned on by this, darlin’? Are you just as fucked up as I am?” All you could do was moan, letting him hug you tighter against him as he spoke into your hair. “I’m gonna fuck you and make you mine. Rub my cum all over you, that way everyone will know you belong to me.” You nodded, your cheek rubbing against his stumbled chin as you began working your hips against the gun. 

“So needy. You wanna be filled, honey? Want me to fill you up?” You could feel the barrel of the gun stretching you as he pushed it further and further inside. He was fucking you with a gun. 

This man was fucking you with a gun. 

You mewled as you moved your hips, your legs buckling beneath you as he continued his attack. Again and again he pushed it up inside of you, watching your face intently as he held you closer against his chest. He held up most of your weight as you leaned into him. He loved seeing your soft features pinched, eyes pinched shut, hips moving against his hand in a desperate search for release. He needed you. Needed you now. 

Inside inside inside. 

He tossed the gun somewhere onto the bed, his hands shaking like a mad as he tore the panties down your lips. You heard the fabric tear in his haste, already crawling onto the bed in an attempt to have him in you. You couldn’t deny him anymore. You couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Oh god, I love you.” He thrust in, not giving you even a second. Not letting you take him inch by inch. He was ripping you apart. Stretching you out. Molding him to the shape of his dick. You cried out, moving forward as if to get away from him. The pressure in your abdomen was insane. You could practically feel him in your stomach. Your attempts at escaping him only spurred him on more though, his hips slamming into you, making you take all of him. Forcing you to take it all. 

And you wanted it. Every inch. 

The pleasure and pain all blended into white hot passion. It was impossible to deny the chemistry between the two of you now. There was no getting rid of it anymore. 

“I’m gonna fuck my cum so deep inside of you. Do you want me to get you pregnant? Fucking ruin you so that you’ll be stuck with me.” And you didn’t know why you were nodding but you were. He was just fucking into you so well, hitting that same spot inside of you again and again. The spot that had you seeing stars. 

His hands moved up to your breasts, his touch so hot that he was practically scalding you. His fingers pinched at your nipples as he continued to point into you. The pleasure was too much. It felt too good. All of this had been building for weeks now. It was almost as though all of that had been foreplay. Every touch. Every heated stare. All of it. 

“Say it. I wanna hear you tell me that you’re mine.” He was talking through clenched teeth now, still slamming into you. He yanked your head up by your throat, wanting to look in your eyes. Wanting to see your lovely lips shape the words. 

“I-I’m yours!” His hips stuttered, his loud moan only spurring you on. “I’m yours Tex. All yours. Please- please!” You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. The pleasure was building though, ready to snap. 

“Give it to me. Cum- I want to feel you milk my cock. That’s a good lil girl. Come on.” 

It was at his urging that you let go. Almost on command. Your muscles tensed, your eyes rolled back, and you could barely breathe. You must have called out his name. Must have screamed because he was fucking you even harder, panting in your ear as he pressed you down further into the mattress. 

“That’s it, honey. Keep sayin’ my name. I want everyone downstairs to hear. Fuck, don’t stop.” So you didn’t. He ripped the orgasm straight out of you, chasing his own like a madman. 

He came with something akin to a roar, his sweat slick arm wrapping around your throat, cutting off your airway as he hugged you tighter to him. You could feel his length twitching inside of you. Pumping you full. Giving you every drop. He fucked you through it, pushing the cum in as deep as he could. 

He stilled after a while, gathering himself for a second before he pulled out, resting his hand against the mattress as he climbed over you on top of the bed. He was still panting hard when you finally found enough strength to turn over and face him. 

He was back to looking like an angel again. 

Wet hair sticking to his sticky cheeks, lips red and kiss swollen, and eyes glassy. He looked at you like you were God. And to him you were. 

Your love was like god. Wholly. Infinite. 

And all his.

special special special thanks to my sweet lil sluts. once again, they assisted emotionally with this fic and even beta read a few chunks! I heard russian roulette with tex and here it is. . . @babylovepresley @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

@knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior

Sharing is Caring (I)

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: A mission has both Miguel and you sharing a room… what could possibly go wrong?

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. ‘There’s only one bed’ trope. Dry humping. Fangs. Wet dreams. Love bites. Miguel in denial of his lust for the reader, but secretly touch starved.

You glanced at the watch on your wrist, suppressing a yawn.

Three in the morning had rolled around, and there were still no signs of the anomaly. Miguel O’hara stood by the hotel window, gazing into the distance through narrowed and ever-watchful crimson eyes.

He was also not showing any signs of stopping for the night, but you were already far too sleep deprived to go on.

“Miguel…” you said miserably, sinking into the bouncy matress. “We should get some rest. We’ve been at this for hours…”

His face hardened slightly. “Get some rest, then. I’m staying up.”

Impossible man.

He was as relentless as he was stubborn. Once he had his mind set on something, there wasn’t much one could do to talk him out of it. He always had to have his way.

“We have sensors scattered all around the perimeter,” you said, feeling every last ounce of patience leave your body. “Any movement and we’ll be on it.”

This time he turned his head to you. “Sleep,” he grumbled, positioning himself closer to the windowsill, but just out of range of the raindrops that began to fall hard outside.

You exhaled in defeat. “Suit yourself.”

The bed squeaked as you moved to find a comfortable spot, eagerly flopping onto your back, facing the bland ceiling of the poorly lit room.

“The bed’s really comfy,” you said with a sigh of sheer relief, feeling the soft material dig into your sore muscles pleasingly. “You’re missing out.”

“The bed’s too small,” he said simply.

Right.

Trust Miguel O’hara to find flaws in anything whenever it's convenient.

"Don’t be ridiculous," you scoffed, earning an intense glare from him. “We can totally fit here.”

“Uncomfortably, yes.”

You bit the inside or your cheek to keep yourself from mumbling a snarky reply, deciding not to push it and dive into a never-ending argument. You knew better than to do that with him.

Miguel suffered from chronic last word syndrome.

You exhaled noisily, as you pulled the soft sheet up to your shoulder before flipping onto your side to face the wall, ready for a much well deserved break from this boring mission.

Thankfully, the pouring rain outside presented itself perfectly, lulling you into a state of relaxation, and you felt your eyelids heavy as you drifted into sleep.

･ﾟﾟ･｡｡･ﾟﾟ･

You weren't sure what time you awoke, but the room was now engulfed in darkness, with only the moonlight casting a dim light through the window.

The bed was dipped lightly behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to find Miguel sleeping on his side. He had retracted his digital suit and you were now faced with his broad bare back.

You had never been in such close proximity with him, let alone in this state of nakedness, which had your stomach do a sudden flip. But both of you were beyond tired, so you told yourself to go back to sleep.

But then you heard it.

A soft grunt coming from him made you look over again. The muscles in his back twitched lightly with each breath. But something was off. his breathing was harsh and erratic, as if he was in a state is distress.

Another low and throaty moan was heard.

Was he having a nightmare?

He suddenly flipped onto his back and you were met with his bare chest, covered midway by the flimsy sheet you both shared. His face was twisted into a light frown, eyed firmly shut, but mouth parted, revealing his protruding fangs.

That was odd... Miguel wouldn't bare his fangs lightly unless the occasion called for it during missions.

But then your eyes traveled down his body to find a tent rising in his lower half, and your eyes nearly bulged out.

Miguel O'hara's cock was pressing against the fabric proud and erect. The faint lighting was enough for you to make out the growing wet stain. From time to time, his hips would buck instinctively, causing a few beads of precum to seep through.

Oh.

You had nearly forgotten Miguel wore nothing under his suit.

Your mouth went suddenly very dry at the realisation that Miguel was actually having a wet dream.

Maybe you were the one dreaming, because the alternative just felt too much to be true. Witnessing the Miguel O'hara in such a vulnerable and intimate position was not something you had on your bucket list, for sure.

Did you find him attractive? Yes. Would you gladly fuck all that grumpiness out of him if given the chance? Definitely.

So now you were torn on what to do. Should you wake him up? Should you just try to ignore the pant and grunts that kept spilling from his mouth? Should you also ignore the way your clit was now pulsing?

But the answer came with him moaning your name.

Your eyes widened and you gasped, immediately flinching away from him, turning to face the wall, heart drumming fast and in unison with your clit.

Before you could fully process the initial shock, a second one quickly followed as you felt him shift next to you to swing a strong arm over your waist. The top half of your suit had ridden upwards from all the commotion, and goosebumps immediately spread across the point of contact between him and you.

"Miguel..." you whispered, too afraid to make a sudden move.

He hummed softly, his large hand pressed flat against your tummy, as he pulled you closer into him, his breath hitting a sensitive spot just below your ear. But what truly made you jolt against him was when his cock came into contact with your ass.

At this point, you knew you had to brace yourself somehow, because you were too far gone to fight the overwhelming wave of pleasure that washed over you. It hit you slowly at first, and then all at once, as he slowly jerked his hips into you.

You were essentially trapped between his large body and the wall, leaving you with no choice but to press your hand against the latter, trying to steady yourself as he picked up the pace.

He mumbled your name under his laboured breath once again, rubbing his cock harder against you, the unmistakable spill of precum now coating your skin.

Your eyes were fixed on your fingers that soon curled into a fist against the wall from the jaw-dropping sensation, and you couldn't stop yourself from undulating your body to match his.

"Miguel..." you groaned in a miserable attempt at waking him up.

His hand slid up and below your covered breasts, his thumb dipping inside the tight fabric of your suit.

You immediately clenched around nothing, and felt your own wetness drip into your underwear.

There was only so much one could take. The voice of reason inside you was telling you to put an end to this right away, but you were not one to listen to reason, especially when you had Miguel O'hara humping you desperately.

His hand slid down to the hem of the bottom half of your suit and began to tug at it.

That was enough to snap you from the haze of lust. "Miguel!"

The reaction was immediate and you found yourself quickly being flipped onto your back and pressed firmly into the mattress, arms pinned above your head, as a breathless Miguel positioned himself on top of you, baring his fangs.

"Miguel... it's me," you said, eyed meeting his crimson ones. "You were..." your voice immediately died down as you felt the weight of the underside of his cock pressed firmly against your covered clit.

The grip on your wrists loosened and his eyes narrowed as confusion settled on his face. "What..."

You were trying your best to ignore his heavy cock, but failed miserably with a whimper, eyes snapping shut and your back arching reflexively.

Miguel grunted from the friction, and you felt him press further into you. "What are you doing?"

With a roll of your hips, you moaned. "Me? You were having a wet dream about me and dry humping me..."

His face drew near yours. "Nonsense."

"It's true..." you whispered shakily, yearning for more.

He moaned again, his balance faltering momentarily, head dropping next to your face. "I would never think of you that way."

You weren't entirely sure why he was now saying this, while still firmly pressed against you.

"Why not?"

He grazed his fangs along your neck. "You're too annoying."

"Then how do you explain that hard cock?"

"Biology," he groaned, hips jerking slowly.

Somehow, his refusal to accept his lust for you only served to fuel yours for him. His subconscious had dragged him earlier into a wet dream about you, and he wouldn't never be able to square this circle.

"So we should stop," you teased, dragging your soaked suit along his cock.

He stilled you with one hand, teasing your skin with his fangs once more. "Yes."

"Then stop."

"Hmm."

His lips latched on to your pulse point, sucking lightly, as one hand beside your head held his weight above you, and the other snaking in between your bodies.

"Let me just feel it... with nothing in the way," he grumbled after tearing away from your skin, and probably marking you with a hickey.

"Why?" you moaned, feeling your clit throbbing uncontrollably. "I'm too annoying."

He pulled the fabric down at once, visibly impatient. "Too annoying."

And when you felt his cock settle between your soaked folds, you jerked with a gasp. Miguel shuddered and glanced down along the length of your body. You followed his motion and were presented with the most alluring sight ever.

His cock lay neatly settled against your, strings of precum drooling from the tip and onto your skin, letting you know his body craved more.

"We should stop now," he said with a feral grunt rumbling from his throat.

You began to roll your hips to have your clit slide effortlessly along his cock, wet sounds filling the room. "You don't want to."

The way he snapped into you next almost had the tip at your entrance, earning a gasp from you.

"I do."

"Then why don't you?" you pouted, caressing his face and having him lean into your touch.

"Biology."

And as he closed the remaining distance with a searing kiss, his tip slipped past without much obstacle as your wetness mixed with his made it way easier. You felt the air in your lungs being crushed by the sudden stretch and you immediately parted your lips from his to let out a strained groan.

He was too thick.

"Just the tip, then," you panted against his lips.

He remained still inside you. "You can take more than that."

Probably, but all the teasing and unintentional foreplay had dragged you so close to the edge you feared you might combust before he buried himself balls deep.

Miguel proceeded to plant persuasive pecks along your jawline and down to your neck. "You can bite down on my shoulder, if it helps."

Your eyes widened at the proposal, and you nearly jerked into him, the promise of struggling to take all of him being way too alluring.

"Okay... but I'm too close..."

"I know."

He positioned himself and your lips brushed against his shoulder, before sinking your teeth into the flesh, and that was enough to signal him to slide in deeper.

You tried to easy the pressure on his skin, but the stretch was too overwhelming and he next thing you knew, your fingers were clawing at his back.

"Stop clenching...." he moaned and you detected despair in his voice.

You would if you could, but the friction was too good to turn down.

He growled in your ear, one hand gripping your knee to further spread you open for him. “Almost there, cariño..."

And just as you were finally beginning to easy your grip around him to fully accommodate him, the obnoxious sound of an alarm flared across the room, lighting up your travel watches.

Fuck...

The fucking anomaly...

･ﾟﾟ･｡｡･ﾟﾟ･

Part 2? 👀

Masterlist

hi! how about kaz brekker smut with a reader who's crying cause it feels sooo good??

Tears.

Kaz brekker x reader. 18+ Drabble. (No confirmation of gender)

YES! YES I WILL DARLING.

I hope this is okay! It’s short, also added a bit of another kink in it- Hope it’s okay. Also a glimpse of slightly dark Kaz entering.

Warning: Crying of pleasure, fluffy? Smut, spanking.

Kaz brekker was one who needed you to be comfortable at all times. You had stayed by his side and waited for him until he was comfortable with touch. The time with waiting, wanting and painfully watching you, he finally let the demons in his head go away.

So he hasn’t been letting anything get in the way of him having you, where he wants, when he want. (If you want it too) But he was a monster in bed, even though he cared he was always so rough with you. But you didn’t want it any other way.

“Fuck.” He groaned above you as he slammed his hips between your spread thighs. The room smelled like sex and the two of you, the room was getting hotter as each second passed by. He didn’t care that you both had pushed the bed back into the wall.

You wrapped so perfectly around him and the warmth felt so fucking good. He would slam so hard to get his cock to hit the deepest parts he could reach. He knew just the way you liked it, what way to push his cock in and the rhythm you liked. You had taught him how to touch you right, even taking some leads on his own that made you see stars.

His head leads back and his eyes closed from the pleasure. He had no clue as you started to tear up but he could feel the effects it had on your hole. But when a sob left your lips his head stopped and his eyes snapped open to pay attention. You had tears leaking from your eyes. It was painful to feel him stop, you didn’t want him to stop.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worries and went to pull out but you grabbed ahold of him. “No! Keep going. It feels so good, please.” You cried and raised your voice to get him to fuck you again.

He liked it when you had a tear or two from pleasure but this was new, it was different. Something in him slapped and screamed at him to make you cry worse, he wanted to hear you sob over and over as he pounded into you. But there was one thing he needed to do before releasing a new monster from within him.

“Are you sure? I need to know your okay.” He asked so calmly that it made your heart strings tug. You nodded quietly and looked up at him with scrunched brows of need. “I’m fine, so please just keep fucking me.” You whined and wrapped your legs around him and arched your back to get a new angle.

And with that you unleash him from a cage. Smirking darkly and got a almost a evil look in his eyes. “I want you weeping all night.” He took his hands and flipped you over on your stomach and pushed your head down but lifted your ass up. A moan left your lips as he pushed himself back in and slammed into you, earning a sob from you.

“I’m going to have every hole wet and dripping, when we are through the pillow better be soaking wet.” His firm hand slapped across your ass cheek. “I enjoy seeing, and hearing you cry for my cock.”

chad meeks martin x reader

prompt: reader lives with sam and tara in new york. she’s been in the friend group for years and is very close with chad, who is extremely protective of her. he’s always had a thing for her but never brought it up due to the fear he would ruin the friendship, until one night..an innocent game of truth or dare changes things

warnings: SMUT, p in v, making out, praise kink, riding, no condom, dirty talk, kinda slowburn but not rlly?

side note: I haven’t written smut in a while so sorry if this sucks! also I did not proofread so sorry for mistakes.

———————————————————-

It was a cold October night in New York. Your friends, Tara, Sam, Mindy, Annika, Ethan and Chad were all sat around the coffee table that was covered in the condensation from each one of your drinks. The sound of the TV was playing softly in the background as you all laughed, playing a game of truth or dare.

You had successfully made it through three rounds of the game without having to do something embarrassing. Granted, you chose truth everytime, which Mindy was not pleased with.

“Come on, you HAVE to choose dare this time.” Annika and the others agreed with her. “Says who?” you asked. “It’s the rules of the game.”

“Since when?” you laughed. “Since right now, i’m making it a new rule.”

“I don’t remember taking a vote on making you game maker.” you bantered.

“Everyone in favor of making me game maker take a sip of your drink.” Mindy said, watching with anticipation as everyone took sips of their drink. “Even you, Chad? I thought you had my back,” you whined at him. He smiled.

“Normally I would be against whatever my sister says buuut, you are the only one here who hasn’t done a dare yet,” he said. “Fine, I choose dare,” you gave in despite all efforts.

You knew by the look on her face that Mindy had something up her sleeve. “I dare you…” she started, giving it thought before looking between me and Chad. “I dare you and Chad to go into the bedroom and make out.”

Chad chimed in before you could, “Mindy that is so inappropriate.” You agreed. “Give me something else.”

“Nope..sorry those are the rules and since you all voted me game maker…what I say goes.” Mindy said, visibly pleased with her dare. “Hurry along now…i’m getting impatient.” She finished. The others piped in, pushing you to do it as if there wasn’t enough pressure already.

You sighed, looking at Chad with pleading eyes, hoping for him to step in and save you. Instead, he did the opposite. “Let’s go,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand. You hesitated but ultimately grabbed his hand as he helped you stand up.

Your hands stayed connected as he led you back to your bedroom. He allowed you to go in first, shutting the door behind him once he entered and leaned against it. His tall stature was almost the same height as the door frame. You sat on the edge of the bed, heart beating a mile a minute.

This was probably the first time in all the years you’ve been friends, that you and Chad had been alone in a room before. To say there were some unsaid feelings between you to would be an understatement. You’ve always had a thing for him, you loved the way he was so caring and protective over you. He treated you like a little sister, which was another reason you felt like he would never see you in a romantic way. Strictly platonic.

But the energy in your bedroom tonight was different than anything you experienced before. There was a sexual heaviness in the air and you couldn’t explain why. Chad didn’t take his eyes off you, he could tell you were deep in thought.

“Hey…you know we don’t have to do anything, right? I just brought you in here so Mindy would shut up,” he said, walking over from the door to sit beside you on the bed.

This brought some relief— but at the same time, it made your heart sink. There was a small part of you that wanted to kiss Chad, to feel his lips move against yours, to feel his hands linger on your body, to pull you on his lap while he explored your mouth, and eventually fuck you until you were cumming on his cock.

But that was a fantasy and you knew it. A fantasy that only occurred in your dreams and would most likely never become a reality. “Well, thank you for saving me.” you smiled, turning to make eye contact with him. “Anytime,” he smiled back. Fuck, you loved that stupid smile.

“I think ‘game maker Mindy’ is going to be pissed when she finds out we didn’t do anything,” you joked. “We’ll just have to convince her that we did.”

You gave him a questionable look. “For starters..we need to mess up your hair,” he said before taking his hands and roughing up your hair. You laughed in the process.

“Perfect, now you need a hickey or something.” You questioned him again. “If you think i’m burning myself with a curling iron..think again.”

“I can just give you one,” he chuckled. Your lower stomach fluttered. “I’m pretty sure that’s more intimate that actually making out,” you told him. “No, let me show you,” he said bluntly. You said nothing, but the look in your eyes was saying something totally different and Chad noticed.

He slowly took your hair and moved it behind your ear, exposing the soft skin of your neck. He leaned over slowly. Despite both of you sitting down, the height difference was still there. You let out barely audible sigh when he lips connected with your neck.

He left soft kisses over the skin, kissing up to your ear and back down to your collarbone. You involuntarily grabbed his arm and squeezed it, before he stopped at the most visible spot on your neck and began sucking.

Somewhere along the way, his hand had rested on your mid-thigh, rubbing and squeezing here and there. He didn’t do it for long before pulling away. He admired the reddish, purple mark he left, a smirk falling upon his lips. “Now, they will believe it.”

You were speechless. How could such a little act of affection, have you so fucking feral? You’re not exactly sure what came over you in that moment. “I like when you touch me,” you said innocently, looking down at his lips. “Yeah?” his smirk grew even bigger. “I like touching you.”

You both remained silent for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what the both of you just admitted. “Do you want me to touch you again?” he asked. You nodded. “Need to hear you say it baby.” It rolled off his tongue in the most sensual way. ‘Baby.’ replayed in your head over and over.

“Please…I want you to touch me,” you didn’t care how desperate you sounded and Chad was reeling over the use of ‘Please.’ Dirty thoughts flooding his mind.

He wasted no time leaning in to actually kiss you this time. It started out slow, because he wanted to give you time to back out if you needed. But you had no plans of doing so. It wasn’t until you let out a soft moan against his lips that he deepened the kiss.

His tongue slid in your mouth, fighting for dominance and easily winning. He couldn’t get enough of you. He pulled you onto his lap, hands resting on your sides as you made out for several minutes. A pool of wetness gathered in your panties, and you grinned yourself against him for some sort of friction.

“Chad..” you whined, desperately wanted more. “Can I take these off?” he referred to your pants. You nodded before he unbuckled your pants, lifting you up slightly so he could remove them. You also removed your shirt in the process.

It was embarrassing how soaked you were. He noticed the damp part of your pink panties. He smirked. “Stop smirking.”

“I just love how wet you are for me baby,” he said, fingers trailing down your stomach before reaching the top part of your panties. He looked at you for permission and you gave him a reassuring nod. He slipped his fingers below the fabric, finding your clit with ease and rubbing slow circles on it.

You moaned, feeling some release in your core from his touch. “Please don’t stop,” you whined.

“Mm, such a good girl..always using her manners,” he praised in your ear. He continued to rub you, adding a little more pressure. “I bet I could make you cum just doing this,” Chad said. “I know you’ve always had a little crush on me..I see the way you tense up when i’m near you, how you bite your lip while you look at my muscles, how red in the face you get when you see me talking to other girls.”

You couldn’t do anything but moan in response. You were seeing stars as he picked up the pace of his fingers, rubbing your clit faster and more aggressively. “Admit it to me y/n. Tell me how you feel about me.”

“I-I’ve wanted you for s-so long,” you sigh pleasurably. “Yeah? Tell me more.” God he was being so hot.

“Sometimes I touch myself at night to the thought of you.” You knew that would boost his ego like hell, but you didn’t care at this point. “Mm, I see. You’ve thought about cumming on my cock? Screaming my name while I fuck you numb?”

“Yes..n-need more Chad,” you moaned. He removed his hand, before reaching down to remove his own pants. His cock was painfully hard at hearing your confessions. He was honestly dumbfounded by the fact that this was happening. Though he would never admit, there was not a day that went by where he didn’t think about fucking you.

You removed your panties, Chad’s eyes immediately glued to your pussy. “Fuck” he breathed out. You helped him remove his boxers, both of you now completely naked. You crashed your lips on his again, making out as you reached down to stroke his cock in your small hand, which barely wrapped around the width. The movements earning a deep groan from his lips.

“You’re so big,” you moaned into his mouth, hand moving up and down his cock faster. “Wanna feel it inside you?” he asked in between kisses. You nodded, he gave you a look of disapproval. “I wanna feel you inside me,” you told him, he was much more satisfied with that answer.

He pulled you back onto his lap, hand gripping your waist as you hovered over his cock. Chad positioned himself at your entrance and looked up at you for one last reassurance, just in case you wanted to stop.

You answered his question as you slowly slid down on his cock, just enough for the tip to go in. You could tell he was trying to keep composure. So were you.

He held your hips, guiding you down farther as you both moaned in sync at the feeling. “Oh..f-fuck,” you whine. “You’re so fucking tight baby,” he groaned. He was big, way bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with. The pain mixed with pleasure made you feel like you were going to explode.

Once every inch of him was inside you, he began moving you back and forth on his cock. Profanities spilled from both of your mouth, absolutely drunk with pleasure. You rested your hands on his shoulders for support as you rode him. “Look at me when you ride me,” he demanded.

You moaned, meeting his eyes, sending you closer to the edge. “You’re doing so good baby, taking me so good..” he moaned, throwing his head back. You both continued like this for several minutes, before he took your arms and held them behind your back, leaning back and beginning to pound into you relentlessly.

“Fuck…fuck..fuck…don’t stop…please don’t stop,” you moaned louder as he thrusted like there was no tomorrow. “You’re making me feel so good y/n,” he said, “Fuck, I could do this all fucking night…make you stay on my cock forever.” His dirty words only pushed you closer and closer. He thrusted harder even though you weren’t sure how it was possible.

You core ached with the need for release. You could feel him deep in your stomach, every thrust deeper bringing you to the brink of collapse. “C-chad…g-gonna cum..”

“Me too baby, me too..” he assured you. Letting go of your arms, he reached between your bodies and began rubbing your clit. The overstimulation too much for you to handle. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock..” he said, rubbing your clit faster and fucking you harder as you came undone.

“Mm that’s right..Good girl…cum for me baby…fuck I love the way you’re squeezing me..” he talked you through the orgasm before reaching his own..

He wanted to pull out but there was a part of him, the sick, selfish and dirty part of him, that wanted to cum inside your pussy.

You knew he was on the edge, you could feel the way his cock throbbed inside you. He let out small whimpers as he felt the pleasure overtake him. Without giving it much thought, you said “Want you to cum inside me.”

He didn’t try to ask if you were sure, with the fear that you would take back what you said. Instead, his warm cum spilled inside you, coating every inch of your walls while moaning your name.

He thrusted a few more times before coming to a stop, but he didn’t pull out. You collapsed in his arms, listening to the faint sound of his rapid heartbeat that got slower as you both came down from the high.

“I can’t believe you just let me do that,” he laughs. “Honestly, me either..but it felt right,” you admit. He pulled out of you, “Spread your legs.” he told you as he sat up. You didn’t question it, you just did what he said. He watched as the white cum slowly dripped out of your hole. “Looking at my cum drip out your little pussy…yeah it was definitely the right decision.”

You blushed with embarrassment. “I never knew you were so naughty,” you laughed. “Baby, this isn’t even close to how naughty I can be,” he said with all seriousness.

A few minutes passed and you both got dressed, Chad helped you get cleaned up before leaving the room. To be honest, you had completely forgot the others still existed. Chad wrapped his arm around you as you walked back to your friends.

“Match-maker Mindy has done it again!” Mindy said, proud of herself, knowing she orchestrated this whole thing. “But I absolutely NEVER want to hear the foul and absolutely disgusting things I just heard in that bedroom.”

“Well thanks to you…you get to hear it every single night,” Chad said before both of you joined back at the coffee table for another round of truth or dare.

AU: CHAD IS DEF THE TYPE TO TALK U THROUGH IT AND I STAND BY THAT

you meet joel again after the outbreak and he finds out you have a daughter

seeing joel again after the outbreak was something you thought would never happen, but there he was, twenty years later, with almost completely gray hair and beard, and looking more tired than he used to. his brown eyes shone when he saw you, thinking that you were some sort of hallucination produced by tiredness, but your arms hugging his neck felt so tight and your head against his chest felt too real to be a creation of his mind.

he gulped nervously and took a few steps backward when you took the little girl in your arms as if he was scared of the little human. you had always been very good with children so he wasn't surprised that you were now taking care of them in jackson. because that's what it was, wasn't it? you were looking after someone's child, right?

"this- this is my daughter, joel." oh shit. your face expressed concern, waiting for a reaction from the man in front of you, but his eyes were locked on the child in your arms. he should have guessed. enough time passed, you were a grown woman and life was good in jackson, probably the best place on earth right now to start a family. he softly nodded his head, trying not to show how shocked he was. the baby was sucking on her finger, cooing and doing that stupid baby sounds like she was mocking him. "congrats" was all he could say.

he was waiting for you to introduce him to the father of your daughter, but you never did, it was as if you were torturing him slowly. maria wanted to put joel and ellie in the house across the street from hers and tommy's, but you offered them to stay with you.

"oh, that place has been untouched since the outbreak, i actually think only the heat works." you cut tommy off when he was saying that it was decent. joel was gonna decline your offer but ellie, who had been tickling your daughter's belly and playing with her tiny hands until that moment, was quicker than him on saying that they'd love to.

he hated to see that baby. joel hated her chubby cheeks and her small hands trying to reach for him every time he was near. he also hated tripping over her toys around the house and how she cutely laughed when ellie played with her. he hated seeing her wrapped in a towel like a burrito after her bath and he hated to see her cheeks and nose red from the cold weather, and how she stomped when she was wearing her big coat and fell on her ass in the snow.

"so, where's the dad?" ellie asked you with her mouth full of food. joel gave her a look that would have killed her and huffed. there was truly no way this kid was shutting the fuck up. "you don't have to -" "no, it's fine." you assured joel while making sure that your daughter was liking her food. you threw a glance at joel to see his reaction and he was looking at you with his face more relaxed than usual. his brow was not furrowed and his eyebrows were arched, trying not to show how interested he was in your answer but at the same time very annoyed because of ellie being so nosy. "he left." "shit- i'm sorry." you shook your head. "it was before she was born. it's better this way, you know? if he was gonna be a shitty dad, i prefer him not to be around." "hell yeah. fuck him." ellie said while nodding her head in agreement with what you were saying. joel threw another deadly glance at ellie after she cursed in front of you and your kid. " i bet you are the coolest mom, right joel?" ellie's words made you giggle but you were also waiting for joel's answer. it was easy for him to empathize with you since you were going through the same thing he went through with sarah. he found it very easy to be a single parent. sarah was the best kid and he had you and tommy to help him. but you were alone, you lived alone, you had to go to work, and you had to take care of your daughter. he clenched his jaw. "that's right."

when you showed them your house, ellie loved it. she lay down on your couch, she opened your fridge, she sat in front of the fireplace, she turned the lights on and off multiple times, checking that they were indeed working. joel told her to stop but you assured him that it was okay, you liked seeing the girl so excited over such small things.

joel on the other hand was static next to you while ellie played around. your daughter was looking at him with her head resting on your shoulder, and joel looked at her from time to time only to find that the baby was still staring at him.

you showed them the rest of the house. ellie had her own room, which was meant to be your daughter's future room but she could have it, and you would share your room with joel. but after seeing his face, you thought it might have been a better idea to offer him the guest room.

"we also have a guest room. there's no bed but there's a couch and the heat doesn't work there but if you want-" "oh no, old joel will be great here." ellie appeared behind him, giving a few pats on his shoulder. you smiled at the girl but waited for an answer from joel. he was trying so hard to ignore the crib next to your side of the bed and how the little girl was sitting in the middle of the mattress, playing with her stupid little toys and violently sucking on her pacifier. instead of that, he decided to remember all those nights sleeping with ellie either in the woods or in the car, and the way he could hardly move when he woke up the next day because his body ached so much. but joel also remembered how good it felt being your little spoon and waking up next to you. of course, he didn't expect things to be like they used to be, but probably sleeping next to you was the only thing he had left of what once was his home. "this is okay." "great! and it's not as if we haven't slept together before, so..." you added trying to downplay the issue. "woow." ellie was so interested in this. "how is that?" "no-" "we were neighbors, and sometimes we-" "enough."

you knew why joel was so distant with your daughter. meanwhile, ellie loved to be around her, joel tried as hard as he could to keep his distance. you lived next to them and in the afternoons you helped sarah with her homework. you stayed with them for dinner and then enjoyed a movie or played some board games with them. the night the outbreak started, joel knocked on your door and told you to go inside his truck immediately. you were familiar with the relationship joel had with his daughter and you knew what a shock it had been to lose her. that's why you didn't blame him for his behavior.

"is she okay?" joel asked you half asleep and you hummed in response. "she's just hungry. i'm sorry. you can go back to sleep." you sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep of your eyes and picking her up in your arms. you mumbled something to her and kissed her forehead while you started to softly rock her in your arms. "no. how can i- how can i help?" joel sat on the bed and waited, noticing how she calmed down after you took her in your arms. the light coming from the street illuminated your silhouette and allowed Joel to appreciate your daughter's wet face. "hm- i need her bottle. it's ready in the kitchen. if you could heat it in the microwave for like a minute, that would be great." while he waited, he couldn't help but think of baby sarah in his arms. her cheeks were wet and her eyes were wide open, joel had to leave early in the morning for work but he didn't mind staying with her up all night if it was necessary. joel was trying to distract her until her bottle was ready, letting her small fingers wrap around his big one. joel had to take a few seconds before going back to the room with you, his hand pressed against his chest trying to control his breathing. once he came back with the baby's bottle, he sat by your side, handing it over to you and nodding after you thanked him. he watched as she enjoyed her meal and as you softly rocked her in your arms. your head fell on joel's shoulder and he didn't know what to do so he just stayed with you like that until you finished feeding her.

"i'm late. i'll see you at lunchtime." you couldn't be late another time, maria will literally kill you. you placed your daughter in joel's arms before you could remember how hesitant he had been with her and he had no other choice but to hold her so she wouldn't fall.

"are you okay? do you want me to take her?" ellie asked after seeing joel's shocked face. he held the little girl with outstretched arms, keeping her away from him. the baby cooed and extended her arms wanting to reach joel. she opened and closed her fist, getting really impatient and starting to make sounds of discomfort. the man frowned and had no other choice but to hold her against his chest. "shit... well done, joel. look, she even seems to like you." ellie added when the girl hid her face in joel's neck.

a few days after that he seemed to be closer to your daughter, you even caught him playing with her rattle, your daughter lying in her crib and with her arms up in the air trying to reach the toy. he was serious, not allowing himself to show how he really felt. your baby laughed with him and you decided to leave the room carefully to not interrupt the moment.

he started with small things like letting her hold his thumb between her fist every time he noticed she was staring into his soul again, and always keeping an eye on her when ellie was helping her to walk in the snow in case she fell or got tired of trying. then joel started feeding her, cutting the fruit into very small pieces, making sure that the milk wasn't too hot or too cold. at first, just sitting by your side but she was too distracted by his presence to eat so he had to start feeding her eventually.

you sighed in exhaustion once you entered your house. "i'm so tired." you sighed again and rested your head on joel's shoulder. your baby was half asleep on joel's arm, visibly comfortable by the way she cooed every now and then and by the way she rubbed her face against his arm. joel was rocking her softly. using one finger you tickled her belly to let her know that you were home. he put her in her pajamas, fed her dinner and you would even say that he had bathed her by the way her little curls were still damp. "she likes you." you said. he brought the pacifier to her mouth and with closed eyes, she quickly caught it with her lips. "she likes you more than me." "that's not true." joel spoke with a low voice, being careful not to be too rough and wake the child up. he turned his head to look at you, his eyes finally leaving your daughter to pay attention to you. you also looked at him with your head still resting on his shoulder. "you like her more than me." you pouted, trying to stay focused on his deep brown eyes and not on his lips and how close his mouth was to your face. "also not true." you smirked and moved one of your hands to play with your daughter's. she squeezed your index finger tightly between her tiny fist while joel kept looking at you. all that you had now should have been with him. your daughter, your house, your life. before the outbreak happened, one night drinking a few glasses of wine at his house after sarah went to sleep, you told him what you hoped your life would be like. you wanted to find your person and maybe even get married, you wanted to travel, moved in with them, start a family, raise your children, have movie nights. not much different from what you had with him at that time. you were almost there, touching your dreamed life with your fingertips, if you only had more time... when joel realized, your eyes were on him again and you had his chin between your thumb and index finger. your thumb brushed his lower lip, testing the waters, and his eyes slowly closed. you understood that as a green light to continue so, you leaned towards him and pressed your lips against his. just like that, no need to move them or rush things. you just missed feeling his lips against yours as much as he did. the kiss lasted ten seconds at most, but it was enough time for your breaths to mix and for joel's body to truly relax after months. you showed a little smile to him after the kiss and the soft look on his face let you know that he was satisfied. you went in for another kiss and he had his eyes closed already but then all of a sudden, your daughter on joel's arm started crying. "oh, i think someone's jealous."

kar’taylir

din djarin x female!reader

kar’taylir [kar-tie-leer]

to know, to hold in the heart.

summary: the four times Din Djarin almost says it, and the one time he does. alternatively, the four times you almost say it, and the one time you do.

a/n: *gif is not mine, it’s from Pinterest* just imagine that trend on tiktok where people scream and cry in their shower to the bridge of enchanted by taylor swift, except it’s Din doing it. also, did I include a Princess Bride reference? yes, cause I’m trash, but I thought it fit (sidenote this may just be my most favourite thing I’ve ever fucking written??)

warnings: a FUCK ton of angst, major one-sided pining (is it though?), jealousy, broody Din, reader is fucking oblivious, Cobb Vanth being a flirty little shit, eventually a lotta fluff

word count: 6.1K (it's a long one, guys, but I promise its worth it)

🪐

i.

“Stop. Moving.” You spit through gritted teeth as you try to wipe at the bloody mess before you.

Mando flinches beneath the wet rag. “Just-“ he groans as you swipe rather harshly at the wound that traces his entire bicep. “Just use the bacta spray, dank farrik!”

“It’s called cleaning the wound first. Maker, Mando, how you made it this long is kriffing beyond me.” You squeeze out the bloody rag into the bucket placed at your feet before draping it on the side.

The vibroblade that had caused the wound had made a perfect gash—deep, bloody, and very infected.

Usually, you had a weak stomach and weren’t able to tend to wounds, especially of this magnitude. But the more injuries your Mandalorian had acquired, the more you were put in a position to take care of him. And so, here were the two of you, hunched over each other in concentration.

You pull out said bacta spray from the medical kit along with a pair of scissors. Placing your hand along the rip in his shirt, you run your fingers gently around the fraying ends and look at your friend. “I’m going to have to cut the rest of the fabric around the wound so that way the bacta can reach the surrounding areas—“

“No, I—that’s enough—“

“Mando…” you warn lowly, attracting his attention to you. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

He lets go of a shaky breath and allows himself to lean back against the metal wall. You take that as your go ahead and begin to cut the shirt. You know about his Creed, how strictly he follows it and what he allows himself to feel comfortable with. You respect him greatly, and so you make sure to only cut away the parts of the fabric that is needed.

Splaying your hand on the curve of his armor-ridden shoulder (you had somehow managed to convince him to remove it in order for you actually heal him properly) you take the bacta and spray along the jagged edges of the now clean wound. It’s a nasty cut, but far more manageable when it’s not covered in blood and scabs.

He flinched again at the cool contact but quickly settled into you. “You need to even out your breathing. You're gonna make yourself light-headed.” You say nonchalantly, making sure you are focused on getting bacta to every exposed area possible.

He doesn’t respond, but you do hear him pause, then inhale and exhale deeply through his modulator. You’re grateful for the way it calms you down—hands cease shaking, allowing you to start wrapping his arm in bandages. “You gotta keep this on. You can take it off in a couple days, but until then…” you tuck the open end into itself and stand up wiping at your knees and the dirt that accumulated on them from the ship's floor. “Until then don’t do anything to aggravate it.”

He huffs, but you can tell he tries to hide it as a cough when you shoot him a sour look. “I’m serious, Mando. I see that thing come off before it’s supposed to and you’re a dead man. You hear me? I’ll beat your ass so hard even the New Republic officers won’t be able to find you.”

He groans as he sits up slowly. “They already can’t find me.”

His quip elicits a harsh look from you. He raises his non-injured arm up in defense. “Alright, I get it. I won’t take it off.”

You keep the glare on him until you’re sure he got the message, then slowly allow the hint of a smile to breakthrough.

Then, you hear a coo and feel two tiny hands grab at your ankle. You look down with an even bigger smile and pick up the baby. “Hi, little guy!” You sit him in the curve of your inner elbow and bounce around on your heels, waiting for him to burst into a fit of giggles. Although it doesn’t take much for your tiny green child to laugh, he is almost always overjoyed when you bounce him around or spin with him in the air.

“You wanna see your dad?” His mouth falls open in a silent laugh when you reposition him against your chest. “Yeah, he’s alright. A little stupid, but he’s okay.”

You look up to Mando mid-laugh only to see that he’s already looking at you and the kid.

Typically, it’s unnerving when he stares. After all, intimidation is his strong suit. When he wants to be scary, he is, and with a type of ease only he possesses, he parts crowds like the Geyser Sea. But right now, he isn’t like that. It’s…different, somehow.

Instead of the sharp lines of his visor being pointed down, they’re slightly titled upward—an air of softness to the minuscule movements he makes. A strange, yet familiar feeling bubbles in your stomach, but you do what you know best and push it down. You clear your throat before sitting down beside your friend and place the baby in the middle of you two.

“Tell me again why you waited almost two days to treat that?”

He shrugs, head lolling to the side as the kid plays with his gloved fingers. “You’re better at patching me up, I guess.”

You feel your face quirk up. “Well, you’re not wrong. I am an amazing medic.”

He lets out a soft laugh, picking the green child up and sitting him in his lap. “An amazing medic who passed out after seeing a blaster burn for the first time.”

“Oh, c’mon, that was one time. I didn’t have any experience yet!” You lean into him unconsciously as you both play with your adopted child. “Besides…you don’t seem to be complaining. I mean who else is gonna patch you up? Certainly, not him,” a pair of big brown eyes meets yours. “The kids smart, but he’d definitely try eating at least half of what’s in that med kit.”

He laughs harder this time. The sound reverberates off the walls of the Razor Crest and rattles your ribs.

He’s lovely.

The two of you fall into another bout of comfortable silence. The only sounds are the occasional creaks of an old ship and the baby’s soft humming.

“Y/N…?” You turn your head enough so that way your eyes catch his through his helmet. He breathes deeply, chest rising and falling until yours fall into the same rhythm. He takes one particular shaky breath and then… “thank you.”

"Anytime."

ii.

“Y/N, this is Cobb Vanth. A frien—“

“The Marshal,” you say in awe. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

The man in question shoots you a friendly smile: wide and toothy. He’s an attractive man, with dark silver hair swept to the one side of his face and bright hazel eyes that lift up at the corners. He softly takes your hand in his, cradling it like you do your child. “All good things I hope.”

You snicker, earning a wink from the stranger. He lets your hand fall at that, but never leaves your side, opting to face Mando and bump shoulders with you.

“Mando,” he muses. “You didn’t tell me how pretty your uh, friend here was. Would’ve liked to freshen up a bit, ya know.”

“No need.” Mando’s voice is low and dark and sends chills down your spine. “We’re just visiting. But we should go, it’s getting dark.” He practically stomps towards the two of you, shoulders squared out and head held up high. You quickly notice how his arms are held to his sides, fists clenched as though he’s restraining himself. It makes you nervous.

What he's restraining himself for? You don’t know. But the sight makes you gulp and want to hide in the safety of your bunk on the ship. Even the child, whose head pokes out of the brown satchel that rests on your hip, cowers back into the safety of the bag at the sight of the angry Mandalorian.

“Now wait just a second.” Cobb places a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder and points to the closest—and quite frankly, the only—cantina in Mos Pelgo. “You two just arrived. Take a break for once Mando, yeah? You’re all work and no play, it’s not healthy. Lemme buy you and the lady a drink.”

Somehow, your Mandalorian bristles even more at that notion, and before anything can escalate, you choose to interject.

“That sounds wonderful, Cobb, thank you.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see the familiar beskar helmet snap in your direction. He backs up a bit, adding distance between the three of you, and somehow that one act shows you just how tense the air had gotten.

You watch your friend as he shifts. It’s subtle, hardly noticeable if you’re a stranger—but all too familiar to you. He’s retreating. “You, you want to stay?” His voice is softer than usual and you swear you catch a hint of sadness.

It’s like a punch in the gut.

“Well, we’re just visiting, right? Might as well get a drink. I could go for some spotchka, and uh, I think you could use a break too.” You try to keep your tone as even as possible as you send Mando a comforting smile. One that you hope he accepts as an olive branch.

Instead, he just stands there for a couple seconds as your pulse pounds. Then, he bows his head. “…As you wish.”

“Great!” Cobb says as he leads the three of you up the steps of the cantina. He walks in ahead, calling to the bartender with a loud laugh.

Mando goes to follow him to the bar until you stop him in the middle of the room. You’re both extremely exposed, but that thought doesn’t concern you right now. As a matter of fact, not much does. The only thing that concerns you is him.

It’s always been him.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The air is thick and heavy but it’s not from the Tatooine heat, rather, the sudden coldness between two friends. You don’t know what to say to him, but you can’t leave it like this. You can’t pretend that something didn’t just happen, regardless of the fact that you don’t know what that something is. But he waits. He patiently stands there, but he never looks at you. You realize you can’t look at him either.

It can’t just be you…

The kid pushes himself further out of the bag to greet his father, probably picking up on the weird silence. That action alone gives you strength. “Are you okay?” You whisper. You meant to sound stern, but your throat is dry and scratched. You chalk it up as a side effect of being surrounded by sand, but you can’t rule out fear either.

“I don’t know what you mean,” is his response.

Your heart drops…maybe it is just you.

He’s far more composed than you: with his hands on his hips and visor trained on the baby gurgling at your hip. You take a quick once-over of him to make sure you’re not hallucinating, but he remains relaxed. There’s still something wrong. Something feels off with his words, and it hurts to analyze. To worry. To hope that everything’s okay when it definitely feels like it isn’t. “Look,” he sighs and goes to reach for your arm in a way he’s done countless times before. But he stops. He stops mid-air, and you wait for something to happen, but it never does. Simply, you watch him retreat for the second time in ten minutes. “You’re right. We need a break and Cobb’s good company. Seems to like you a lot. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.”

You step closer to him and wish more than anything that you could actually see his eyes. You want to see the colours that flicker in his iris’; the way you imagine they soften at the sight of his son, and how they glow when he laughs. You want to pinpoint the different emotions he feels through eyes alone, but he doesn’t give you that. He just nods politely and walks inside the cantina leaving you and the little green guy to fear the worst.

iii.

He feels stupid.

Like, really kriffing stupid.

Cobb had picked the table furthest from the bar, smack dab in the corner, providing an ample view of the entire cantina. Though there weren’t that many patrons, Din still liked to be in the corner. He was an observer after all. It was where he had the most control because he didn’t have to worry about anyone sneaking up on him. It also allowed him to see everyone in a more subtle way; one where he wasn’t blatantly staring and would likely rile up a drunk who wanted to pick a fight.

He could monitor things and still be able to enjoy what little amount he allowed himself to partake in.

But he feels stupid. Because that’s not the case right now.

He could have a group of raiders walk right up to him and he would never notice. Not when he’s staring at you. It isn’t that this is a rare thing he does because it happens more often than he’d care to admit—when his attention drifts to the one thing, the one person, that somehow constantly invades his mind.

He tells himself that it’s for safety. He’s keeping an eye on you, making sure you’re alright and that no one’s bothering you (although he’s the first one to say anything whenever anyone does). But even he knows that’s a lie.

It’s not uncommon for him to steal subtle (or what he hopes are subtle) glances at you, but it is uncommon for him to be this angry when looking at you.

Usually, he’s at peace when it comes to you. But he wasn’t anticipating Cobb to invite the two of you for a drink. He wasn’t anticipating Cobb to take such a liking to you, nor, to offer to go with you to the bar to get said drinks even though you’re more than capable. But out of all the surprises he’s had today, the one that shakes him the most is you taking such a liking to Cobb.

The two of you are talking wildly to each other as the barkeep prepares your drinks. You’re smiling at him and he’s smiling right back, and you’re doing that thing where when you get excited you talk with your hands.

Din finds it endearing, but right now it’s different. Because he’s just watching. He’s not the one you’re excited about. So, he can’t bring himself to join you two. He knows that he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you look at him like he’s a burden, a buzzkill who only knows how to follow you like a lost pet. But he wants to. Maker does he ever. Because maybe at the end of it all he’d get to keep you. You’d choose him after realizing that he’s always chosen you.

He forces himself to look away at that. Why would you choose someone who you can’t even see return your smile?

He’d never disobey his Creed. It’s a part of him, it’s what he stands for. And yet, he can’t count the number of times he’s second-guessed himself just to show you that he does in fact smile, that he’s alive, that he needs you more than anything. He’s a breathing man with a bleeding heart that wasn’t made for you but can’t live without you. And he hates it.

“Here we go,” Cobb sits down gently on the chair and places the drinks in the middle of the table.

Din keeps his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you take the seat beside him. The kid notices your back and immediately grasps for your attention. Which you give to him every single time because you love him.

Din would give anything to be him.

You sit the child down in your lap and grab at your glass of spotchka when a look of realization hits you. “Oh, we forgot his broth.”

Cobb, in what Din sees as a chance to impress you, is already up before you can ask. “I got it. You sit tight little guy.”

The man saunters off and when he’s out of earshot, you turn to look at him. Din feels himself start to sweat. “So, I know you said everything’s okay, but I call bullshit.”

Din’s eyes widen at the blunt statement. Not that she can see, but he’s very aware of his reactions to her (maybe the fact that she can't see is for the best). “Mando, what’s going on?” She lifts the baby up so that he can see him clearer. “We’re both worried.”

He sighs and shifts in his seat. Quickly, he weighs his options.

He could ignore her, wait until Cobb gets back, and then interrupt their little date. Cobb would get the hint and she’d be back with him and their kid on the Razor Crest. But he realizes that’s selfish of him and she’d be even angrier with him…possibly even hate him, which is the last thing he wants. Ever. So he scraps that thought. He thinks that he could bluff his way out of the situation: tell her his mind is once again on his abandoned covert and that he’s just having an off-day. It wouldn’t be the first time, and if he was convincing enough she’d probably believe him. But then he thinks of something different. He considers, for a very brief moment, what it’d be like if he just told her. He could tell her everything. How she’s all he can think about most days and nights, how he imagines what it’d be like to actually hold her hand without reason, and most importantly, how his biggest fantasy involves him taking off his helmet and kissing her. Actually kissing her like he’s longed to do since the first week of having her stay with them.

She doesn’t long for you, though.

He realizes she’s still looking at him and so he makes his decision. “It’s just an off-day for me, cyar’ika. I’ll be alright. I’m sorry if I worried you and the little one.”

She pauses, her face turned downward in sadness. His heart twists painfully. But soon she smiles. It’s faint and fake and nothing like her usual self, but it’s something.

“Okay.”

Cobb comes back to the table with a small bowl of broth and places it before the kid. The conversation returns to normal and Din is thankful that the noise is just loud enough to drown his thoughts. Even if for a short while.

iv.

“Oh, Mando look at this!”

You show him a large green and blue textile with intricate designs along its edges. It was knitted with care and looked impossibly comfortable, as far as Din could tell. “It’s beautiful.”

You smile widely and lift it up to properly look it over. “It reminds me of him.” You look down to the child that this time Din was now holding. He lifts him out of the bag in order to show him the blanket, which he immediately grabs onto. The baby coos at you, which elicits a giggle and smooth knuckles to run over his cheek. “He likes it,” you say. “We should get it for him. It can be his new blanket.”

“He has lots of blankets, cyar’ika.” He knows you know this. You're both a sucker for the little guy, but at some point Din reasons, he will have to stop spending so many credits on blankets. Though, if it keeps his cyar’ika and his ad’ika happy, he figures it can’t be all that bad.

It seems though you’ve already beat him to that realization. “Yeah, and who gets him all those blankets? Us. ‘Cause, we’re the best parents in this kriffing galaxy.”

His parents. Din preens at your words. “I’ll buy it. You go look around some more, we’re gonna have to leave soon.”

You frown playfully at him but take his advice and skip off to another booth filled with hand-made items.

Din smiles at you beneath his mask then looks down to see his child already looking up at him. The baby, who knows far more than he lets on, looks at him and then looks at you, only to look back at Din. It’s then his turn to follow the kid’s line of sight before it clicks. “No. Not happening,” Din mutters, pulling a couple of credits out of his pocket and passing them to the vendor who gives him the folded blanket.

He tucks the blanket under his arm then walks in your direction. You had moved on to a new vendor, touching anything you could get your hands on. This particular display though seemed to have you preoccupied as you proved to be too distracted to notice him come up beside you. “Find anything you like?”

You don't respond, but Din sees how your eyes were fixated on one particular piece of jewelry. The necklace was strung up on the stand closest to the woman who he assumed made them: a beautiful, long silver chain with a small moonstone attached to it. You admire it, but eventually back away from the display. You take a quick glance at all the pieces one last time before smiling at the lady then looking up to Din.

“No, it’s alright. Let’s go home.” Home. Our home.

He looks at the table and then at you. He’s not really good at the whole surprise thing (in all fairness he’s never had anyone to surprise) but, he thinks, as Cara always tells him ‘there’s a first for everything', he might as well start now.

“You go ahead, cyar’ika. I’ll catch up. I just need to finalize some things with the bounty.” Din passes you the child and the blanket and he pretends he doesn’t notice his pulse quicken when you look at him like he’s the kindest person in the galaxy.

He’s not. But he hopes he’s enough for you.

You touch his shoulder, the same shoulder you healed only weeks ago, then walk away to the loading dock with your child in tow as Din heads back to the market.

v.

You don’t think you will ever get used to hyperspace.

Colours, the kind you imagine even the queen of Naboo is envious of, rush past you in a mosaic of light. Your heart drops to your stomach as you lurch forward into what always seems like another dimension. It’s a visceral experience. It’s addictive.

The Razor Crest is a big ship, but in hyperspace, it’s weightless. And maybe that’s why you love it so much because you can’t get that kind of weightlessness anywhere else.

You’re invigorated by it at all.

Unfortunately, not everyone on the ship is having as good of a time as you are.

Below the cockpit, down the stairs, and to the right is where Din paces back and forth. The child watches from the corner, eyes going back and forth, stopping, then going back and forth again as he tracks his dad's nervous movement.

Din then stops and sits beside the kid with his back against the wall. “I don’t think I’ve ever given a gift before.”

Mandalorians don’t get nervous; they’re not supposed to. They’re supposed to be composed warriors, the soldier everyone relies on. But right now, Din can’t even rely on himself.

It’s really nothing special, simply a necklace. A piece of jewelry that you eyed, but eventually dismiss—

Wait. Did you even want the necklace?

Maybe Din read the situation wrong and you had actually decided you didn’t like it. Maybe you were simply looking at it because it was ugly, like how you study something you don’t understand.

Great. Now he’s going to give you an ugly necklace that you don’t want.

Maybe he’s not as observant as everyone says he is. As he likes to think he is.

“Dank farrik.” Din slams the back of his beskar covered head into the metal wall. This wasn’t exactly how he planned this to go.

In hindsight, he wasn’t exactly sure of how it would play out anyway, but he liked to believe giving you the necklace would lead to you giving him some amount of attention. No matter how little or how much, as long as it came from you he’d do anything for it.

Maybe he’d give it to you and you’d smile in the warm way only you can. The kind of smile that even the most beautiful of moons cry over because they’re nothing compared to you. Maybe you’d touch his face through his helmet and he’d soak into your embrace the way he’s done thousands of times before. Or maybe you’d laugh, take the gift and never think about it again.

Yeah. That sounds more probable.

“I don’t know, buddy… Do you think she’ll like it?” He goes to reach for the necklace in his pocket but it’s not there. And quite frankly neither is his kid.

He’s frantic in his search for the child and the jewelry until his eyes catch him on the ladder.

Since when did he—

Damn it.

He jumps up, as quickly as his body will allow, but the baby’s already at the top with the necklace in hand.

Your little green child coos. Your turn your head to see him shuffling over to you, a huge grin on his face with something stuck in his mouth.

“Ugh,” pushing yourself off the captain's chair, you nab the kid and sit back down with him. “How do you find this stuff, I swear to Maker, kid.”

His teeth clamp harder on the object as you try to pry it out of his mouth until you finally get your fingers around it and pull it out. It’s wet from his saliva and he laughs at you as you wipe it on your shirt in disgust. Lifting him up so he’s above eye level you give him a stern look. “Stop trying to eat everything. Especially when you don’t know where that thing's been.”

Your scolding just makes him giggle harder, forcing you to roll your eyes. You swear you’re going to roll your eyes right out of their sockets one day.

You both then turn your heads to the sound of shoes pounding up the ladder, and then the door opens to the cockpit.

Mando stands there breathing heavily, as his helmet scans the entire room before landing on you two.

“Are you…are you doing okay?”

Even under his helmet, you can tell he’s flustered, and then as quickly as he came up the steps, he focuses on you. “Sorry, I just…he had a thing in his mouth and I didn’t want him to swallow it.”

“Oh yeah trust me, I already fought with him over it.” You laugh while picking up the object you set to the side.

You swear you actually hear Mando’s breath stutter as you finally take a look at the object. At first, you don’t recognize it, concern flooding your mind at the thought of your little baby choking on something as dangerous as this.

But then you realize what it is.

Din’s shifted his weight to his other leg and he can feel his hands flex nervously—compression gloves not enough to stop him from wanting to grab the object right out of your grasp.

But he knows you. He knows you well. And he can see you’ve already figured out what you’re holding.

Your eyes meet his through his helmet. “This is…this is the necklace.” It dangles from your fingertips, and the child swats at it—the jewelry becoming his newfound obsession. “The one from the market I was looking at…”

“Yes.” He cringes at how he sounds. So quick and robotic and awkward, and so very unprepared. He’s never felt this nervous before, and yet he can’t back away. He has to deal with it. “You didn’t buy it, but, I thought maybe you still wanted it. So I got it for you. As…as a gift.”

You look down at the pendant and smile softly, running your thumb over the cool, smooth stone. “If you don’t want it, I can trade it for something else when we land. Something more desirable—“

“What’s that word…?” You both speak at the same time.

“Sorry,” you chuckle out. You’ve caught his attention though, caught him off guard on his needless apology, so you clear your throat. “How do you say beautiful in Mando’a?”

He’s stunned beyond words. Beyond thoughts. And yes, he’s acutely aware of the fact that he knows he probably looks like an idiot—a man who doesn’t even know how to talk to the woman he loves, much less surprise her with something so heartfelt. But the way you look at him, sincerity in your eyes as you await a response, his brain short circuits and he somehow gives you one.

“The word is mesh’la.”

“Mesh’la,” you repeat softly. He feels his knees buckle at your voice speaking in his mother tongue and he curses every deity for putting him in such a foreign situation.

But then you’re putting the necklace on without a second thought. As though it’s routine and the necklace is already part of your being. And then his nervousness melts away. It de-escalates into something different. Something that propels him further, closer to you.

You’re a magnet and he’s the piece of metal flying through the air, willed by a force he cannot control. “Do you…like it?”

“I wouldn’t be putting it on if I didn’t like it, now would I be, Mando?”

“Din.”

“…what?”

He hadn’t even noticed that it slipped out. And he’s surprised his covert haven’t already started to beat down the walls of his ship. A confession of a gift is one thing, but Din telling you his name is just purely reckless. He should stop while he’s ahead, but the dam has been cracking beneath the weight of his feelings for a long time. So it seems that it’s time he gives them a chance.

“My name,” his voice shakes, wavers with each syllable. “My name, cyar’ika, is Din Djarin.”

You stare out, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. But then there’s a calmness that shines through. You look down at the kid, who has been watching the two of you closely for a while now.

He hears his heart pounding in his ears so loudly he’s positive he's going to pass out. “Din…” You repeat the name slowly, unsure of it as you test out the way it feels as it rolls off your tongue. “Din. I like that name. It suits you.”

“I like your name, too.” You laugh loudly. If it were out of context, he would’ve panicked at your laughter, but after realizing how ridiculous he sounded, he finds it easy to laugh right along with you.

You hold the kid in the crook of your elbow as you stand in front of the man with a permanent smile on your face. “And uh, cyar’ika…” Din’s heart drops to his stomach and his blood runs cold. “What does that mean? I figured it meant friend or something like that but…” you’re hesitant to voice your thoughts, worried that maybe you’re overthinking it; anticipating and expecting something only for it not to be there. Wishful thinking. “I’m just curious.”

Of course, you are. Why wouldn’t you be? It was only a matter of time before you were going to ask him. Only a matter of time before you put all the signs together. Before you realized you didn’t want him that way.

Cara once told him he wasn’t subtle. At first, he had no clue what she meant, but he knows now. And he wishes he didn’t.

He takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the welling up in the corner of his eyes, but understands that it’s pointless. His time is up.

“Cyar’ika…” his tongue swells up his mouth. He’s never felt this breathless before. “It means sweetheart.”

Even from behind his helmet he feels exposed. Everything is out in the open and nothing he can do, or say, can fix it. And the fact that this is the first time since he met you that he can’t read you? It truly terrifies him.

He tenses up, waiting for the moment in which you say goodbye. When you kiss the forehead of your child, pack up your things, and give your awkward thanks to Din for allowing you to stay with them.

He waits, and waits, and waits. But it never comes. Instead, you slowly bring your hands up to his. He holds his breath, or rather, his breath holds him. Your hands gently glide on his arms until they reach the broad expanse of his shoulders, and then the edges of his helmet.

He hesitates, but you don’t stop there. Eventually, your hands stop on the sides of his helmet, where you assume the sides of his face would be if you were to hold him without his armor. He can’t help but lean into the contact you provide him. Even through the impenetrable beskar, he can still feel the warmth of your hands on his skin, imagines how it would feel to place his skin on yours. It may be temporary, but if this is all he’ll get for the rest of his life, he’d die happy. “What should I call you then?”

He…wasn’t expecting that. Actually, it was the last thing he expected you to say. You take his silence as a good sign to keep going. “Well, if you call me sweetheart…what should I call you?”

“I…” Din almost cries. He’s tired, stressed, and feels like he’s on a tightrope. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes you aren’t running away. You’re staying here. Touching him through his helmet and looking at him the way he’s wanted you to for what feels like forever. You're looking at him the same way he looks at you. “Din. I just want you to call me Din.”

You smile at that. At him. “Din…” he melts underneath you, relishing in the way his name sounds in your voice. And then you're reaching up to him, hands still holding his helmet firmly as you ever-so-gently pull him to meet you. And then…

Then you kiss him. You plant a feather-light kiss to his helmet, one that lingers and permanently takes ownership of his breath. You pull away from him before pressing your foreheads together and Din swears he just died.

The two of you stay like that for…you aren’t too sure how long. It feels like it’s been both seconds and minutes. Although you really aren’t keeping track, the dizzying feeling rattling around in your skull makes your brain feel like mush.

You can feel Din’s breastplates move slowly, letting you know that he’s calmed down, coming down from the shared high of two friends who’ve finally collided. He inhales deeply and his hands rest over yours. Your fingers intertwine on the sides of his helmet, but then he’s lifting up the beskar, and you panic.

“Din, stop.” You don’t realize how breathless you’ve become and you’re shocked that even with the lack of oxygen to your brain, you’re still aware of his creed.

But he cuts you off and presses his forehead to yours again. “It’s okay, just…just close your eyes. Please.” It's almost a whimper, and the sound ruins you (you take mental note of that sound for later). So you close your eyes.

You’re eager to feel him. To touch skin rather than just beskar. You don’t know what he looks like, might not know for a long time, but you’ll know what he'll feel like. And right now that’s the only thing keeping you going.

Your hands feel him first. Smooth and warm and a hint of stubble. You begin to map out his face with your hands, all while he holds you. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with someone…the most intimate you think you’ll ever be. Then, he’s kissing you. It’s firm, yet gentle. Soft, yet hard. It’s everything you both imagined it to be, and more.

It’s so beautiful it hurts. But at least now you two don’t have to deal with the pain on your own.

The Only Exception (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Ahhh here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This has been sitting in my WIPs since late November/early December. This is what I was working on before I got sick. I’m so happy it’s done. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, although I may have written something similar to this already. It’s very much inspired by “The Only Exception,” by Paramore. I’m hoping I didn’t use this song as a title yet….Oh well. ENJOY!

Summary: Din has been wildly overprotective of you lately, but maybe it’s because there’s something lying deep below the surface that’s been threatening to bubble over…

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! 18+ Please!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, canon typical violence, Jedi!reader, Razor Crest still exists (and it’s def bigger in my head than it is in the show), praise kink, friends to lovers, angsty but fluffy and smutty dw, I only proofread like 2 times so it may be bad (it’s 3:16am…so…we die like men!), AFAB reader, uhhh I think that’s it…

Word Count: 3,078

“I swear to the Maker, if you don’t get back on the Crest now, I’m gonna-,”

Din is cut off by the sound of your lightsaber clashing through the plastoid armor of the stormtrooper to your left. You swing your saber around, showing off more than you need to. You throw it down the alleyway, feeling through the force as it cuts through another stormtrooper before finding its way back to your hand.

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Imagine Din Djarin finding you asleep with Grogu.

i just wanna nap with grogu. this whole thing is entirely self indulgent, sue me. written by: archie

He emerged from the refresher after an hour, body and beskar finally squeaky clean. Sand was always too good at getting inside his armour, and after being swallowed whole by the krayt dragon outside Mos Pelgo, he knew he’d stunk of stomach acids and monster’s insides. As soon as the Crest was in hyperspace, he’d excused himself away to save both you and the Child from living with scrunched noses.

He felt much better now as he climbed up the hatch into the cabin, only to be met with a sight that brought out surprising warmth in his chest.

There you were, curled up in the Crest’s passenger seat, fast asleep. Your boots on the edge of the seat and knees drawn to point at the roof. With a stray blanket draped over your form and head bowed as you dozed, you’d never looked so cosy.

He stayed quiet and turned to the other seat to check on the Child, too- But he wasn’t there.

His brows furrowed behind his helmet. He glanced around, wondering if he was hanging by his feet like he so often was, but no. He was nowhere.

A gloved hand reached out to your sleeping from, about to shake your shoulder to ask, but-!

A soft gurgle. A twitch beneath the blanket over your chest.

The building panic melted away like it’d never existed.

He stepped in close and took the corner of the blanket, lifting it ever so carefully to not disturb either of you… And was greeted by a sight that brought surprising warmth to his chest.

His troublesome green blob was bundled safely in your arms, eyes closed and ears flopped against the fabric of your shirt. His head was nestled into your chest as soft babbles and gurgles spilled from his mouth, a little thread of drool attaching him to your shirt. It left a tiny patch of wetness that was uncommonly cute. He’d never looked so peaceful, Din mused.

He raised his eyes to your face. Peaceful, tired. It was clear you loved the Child like he was your own. With that, Din trusted you like no other.

In a pure moment of affection, he extended his finger to run a knuckle delicately down the bridge of your nose, then touched lightly on the kid’s hairy head. Each of you shuffled slightly at his touch, but didn’t wake. It was no surprise: he’d put you both through a lot that day.

He smiled to himself and tucked the blanket back the way he’d found it, soon settling into the pilot seat. He leant back and crossed his arms, allowing his eyes to fall closed, too.

With any luck, he’d see the two of you in his dreams.

Hopelessly Devoted to You ☢

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You’ve been by Ellie’s side since she was little, a family figure and her protector, after both of your families passed away and you found one another in the QZ. So, when the gruff and demanding Joel Miller steps into the picture to take you both to the lab Ellie needs, the two of you don’t see eye to eye. But after time passes, attraction settles in and you and Joel might feel more for the other than you thought. 

A/N: hehe so it’s been a minute… i hope you all are doing well and happy new year to everyone!! the last of us show has been occupying my thoughts for the last two weeks oh my god and PEDRO?? i love him with everything in me, first mando and now joel fucking miller, so i had to write for him and i hope you guys enjoy this drabble and as always let me know what you think <3 be gentle with me, smut is hard to write T-T (i have never wished i was a steering wheel this badly before seeing this fucking gif) I already wanna write more 

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, AGE GAP (Reader is late twenties, Joel is like 56), language, near death experience, violence, oral f receiving, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, enemies to lovers ish, just filth, daddy kink, slight angst, mentions of death, injuries, tending wounds, rough!Joel, dom!Joel

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Daddy Dieter {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.1k

Warnings: Drug use, pregnancy mention, surrogacy talk, oral sex (female receiving), sex toys, unprotected sex, cream pie, pregnancy angst, doctors, breast play, talk of anal play, oral sex (male receiving), lactation kink, cum play, food cravings, angst, Dieter being Dieter, labor, childbirth. 

Comments: Your boss, Dieter Bravo is the embodiment of an adult child. You are shocked when he decides on day that he wants a baby. Even more shocked when he wants you to be his surrogate and have it for him. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ’creator chooses not to use warnings’. You also agree that you’re the right age to be consuming anything here.

“I’ve decided I want a baby.” Dieter announces this just as easily as he’s decided to get a puppy. In his mind there’s not a whole hell of a lot of difference between the two. Both are small, need to be fed and will shit everywhere, both would love him unconditionally. He’s thought about it longer than anything else he’s decided in his life, almost two days. That article with Sandra Bullock about her kids making him yearn and wonder if it was ever going to happen for him. He wasn’t getting any younger and like most things he wanted, he wanted it now. 

Your eyes widen, shocked and in disbelief, until you burst out laughing. Dieter looks offended which makes you laugh even more. The man can barely remember to shower without you telling him he has to, how the fuck is he going to look after a baby?!? “You’re joking, right?” You ask him, raising your eyebrows. 

He pouts, looking at you with annoyance. “Why would I be joking?” He asks, tilting his head, “I’m perfectly capable of being a daddy.” 

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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐁𝐨𝐲 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Previous Joel Fics: Mule [5.1K], Atta Girl [10.2K]

Summary: Ellie steals one of Bills magazines and you and Joel decide to see what the fuss is about.

Word Count: 3k

CW: Possible spoilers for episode 3, but I haven’t seen it! Based on the game. Heavily inspired by my bestie @foxilayde. A much lighter fic than the last few, a little bit of dry comedy, a little bit of playful Joel, but also a little bashful. Consumption of porn magazine, companions to lovers(?), p in v sex, fingering. Not proof read.

Tease: “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna c** for me?”

“N-Now Ellie, that ain’t for kids-“

“Woaaah!” Ellie had exclaimed, holding up the magazine rustling in her hand by her fingertips, her arm outstretched to take in the whole double page, “How- How the hell would he even walk around with that thing?!”

That had piqued your interest, eyes snapping up to the rearview mirror. Ellie was giggling, grinning from ear to ear as Joel turned in his seat to snatch the paper emblazoned with PLAYGIRL in red lettering from her hand.

“Would you jus’-“

“Hold your horses!” Ellie had insisted, “I wanna see what all the fuss is about!”

You hadn’t said anything at the time, chuckling at the way Joel’s cheeks flushed as Ellie asked all kinds of inappropriate questions. It was only when she discarded the pornographic magazine on the floor of the truck at the end of her smutty inquisition and fell asleep on the back seat upon Joel’s insistence that you made a note of where she had dropped it in the footwell.

Joel, having stopped to rest, slept in the front seat. His head tilted forwards; a gentle snore indicated he was out cold. With some courage and a little luck, you managed to grab the magazine without waking either of the sleeping duo and exit the truck.

Settling back in the bed of the pickup truck now and minding how uncomfortable it was to lean against the metal, you set a flashlight against the floor, open up the worn pages of the filthy magazine and chew nervously on your lower lip.

Of course, you weren’t to judge Bill for his sexuality. You never had before the outbreak, and there certainly wasn’t any point in being a bigot when the world had ended. In fact, thumbing through each crinkled page, you can’t help but thank Bill for his impressive collection of smutty male pages.

Each page had a collection of pictures and articles on everything from the ‘best sex positions for your zodiac signs’ to ‘average penis size of men around the world’. Clearly photographed in the 80s, based on the moustaches alone, each man photographed in a multitude of poses was muscular, slathered in oil, and donning the tiniest speedos while exhibiting the most prominent bulges beneath the aquablade fabric.

Ellie was right, how do they walk around with those things?

One, in particular, caught your eye; the sunset-orange speedos sat snug against the globes of his ass. The muscles in his back were defined, rippling with each of his poses. They were so clear beneath his golden tan you could probably label each picture like an anatomy textbook. He was pretty, and he made your face warm up.

“That your type?” A gruff, rumbling voice makes your body jolt in shock, inhaling a petrified gasp.

Joel had stepped out of the truck while you were distracted by the glutes and pectorals of the gorgeous male models, catching you off guard as he walked up behind you. He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps straining the sleeves of his denim shirt.

“Mhm- N-No! No, I was just reading about how standard American men have a less-than-average dick length,” you lie smoothly to cover up being caught red-handed, using some of the data you had read a few pages back. “What about yours? Is your moody personality compensating for something?”

“You ain’t funny,” he answers flatly, refusing to rise to your childish jabs as he climbs up into the truck bed with you. You catch a glimpse of the pistol buried in the waistband of his jeans, and your pulse races faster than it had with any of the round bums you’d seen in the pages.

“I’d say I’m hilarious. It’s the trauma of experiencing The End. It builds chara-cter,” you ramble, only stuttering when Joel manages to pry the glossy papers from your hands. His eyes scan over the page with a look of disinterest.

“But outta date, don’t you think?” He grumbles in that grumpy, man-child way he does that always has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He’s pointing at the very 80s-style porn staches.

“Dunno, wouldn’t exactly call your facial hair ‘trendy’,” you scoff, watching him flick to the page titled in bold capitals: EXCITING SEX TRICKS TO TRY!

It’s ridiculous. You’re both grown adults, and it’s not as though the two of you were born during the outbreak. You’d both been through high school, and no doubt had sexual partners before Cordyceps took hold of the world. However, the prospect of talking sex with Joel Miller was mortifying.

You can feel the heat creeping up your throat as his eyes scan the sections of information with such indifference that you’re almost sure that he’s bored. Perhaps he was. It wasn’t as though you had caught him taking some time to himself during your great journey.

Joel is so lost in the writing that you allow yourself a moment to take in the slope of his nose, the slant of his cupid's bow framed by his greying moustache. Beneath his creased, frowning brow, his long lashes surround the deep brown of his eyes as they flick back and forth across the page. He was a handsome man. Was there no one waiting for him back in the Boston QZ? He’d never sa-

“The fuck is guddlin’?” Joel speaks out, shocking you from your thoughts with a start. You blink slowly, probably looking really fucking stupid as you choke on the words stuck in your throat when Joel looks up at you with a quirked brow.

“I-“

“I mean, I know guddlin’ in a fishin’ sense,” he interrupts, pointing to the page and prodding it with the tip of his finger, “Not in a-… Not in this sense, though.”

“Does-… Does it not explain?” You ask him quietly, your mouth suddenly very dry. Joel gives a light shrug, his eyes wandering over the page in search of a definition.

“Oh- Here,” he points out. He takes a second to read, his tanned skin tinged with pink as the words sink in. “Uhm… It’s- Well, it’s-“

Poor Joel looks as though he’s seconds away from an aneurysm attempting to explain the bizarre sex act without actually saying it. You scoff, snatching up the crinkled magazine and reading over the asterisk in small print at the bottom of the information page.

‘To insert one's finger(s) into a woman's vagina to pleasure her digitally while simultaneously having penile-vaginal intercourse with her.’

You pause, your lips parting as you look at Joel with a weak laugh. He’s rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes cast somewhere on the horizon in an attempt to avoid your own. He’s as embarrassed as you are, it seems, clearing his throat with a weak chuckle.

“Well,” he mumbled, eyes flicking to the magazine, “Must’a been good for it to end up in that.”

You nod slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you glance down at the black and white print that appears to all blur together in embarrassment. “Mhm.”

You can feel your pulse between your thighs, your skin tingling beneath what you assume is Joel’s gaze. It’s crude, utterly filthy, but you can imagine the stretch, the feeling of his weapon-calloused fingertips coaxing your g-spot as he slowly sinks into you.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you close the magazine with a nervous laugh, discarding it with a half-hearted toss over the edge of the truck bed and onto the roadside. “Stupid shit anyway…”

Your aimless comment is met with silence, and you’re far too humiliated to face the notion of looking at Joel. You imagine he thinks you’re insane, having caught you reading and enjoying this filth.

“… Take it you ain’t tried that before?” Joel’s gruff voice cuts through the sound of the crickets in the surrounding grass, and you can’t help but laugh, simply shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.

A delicate brush of skin against your ankle sparks something raw up your spine. You look at it quickly, seeing Joel’s fingertips tracing the rough circumference of the joint beneath them. Your skin prickles pleasantly, and you look up at your partner- your smuggling partner- through your lashes.

His expression is firm, but his eyes betray his outward calm display. They’re flickering between your lips and eyes, his exhale slow as he attempts to force out some words he appears afraid to put out into the atmosphere.

“Do you… Do you wanna try it?”

It’s haphazard, delivered clumsily, and so utterly unlike Joel. You can see the cringe in his expression when the sentence settles in the air, and your heart lurches when you see he’s sincere. That he wants you and that he’s letting you know after years of hiding it from you.

God, you don’t even give him another second to doubt himself. You’re scrambling into his lap, straddling it and pressing your mouth to his in a kiss that hurts more than it pleases, his teeth scraping your lower lip and your tongue tracing his own.

You can feel it through the thin, worn denim of his jeans, the jump of his cock when you settle your crotch down against the seam. His hands are vicious, grasping handfuls of your thighs, your ass, your hips. He could bruise the shape of his fingerprints into you, and you’d thank him, would beg him to put you through the pain again to brand you as his.

He groans out your name into your mouth, but it sounds more like a growl rattling in his chest. You’re fumbling in the low lighting with his belt buckle, the clinking of the clasp bringing you relief when you free Joel’s hips from their leather confines. It’s almost frantic, the pace you set as you try and fail, try and fail before you successfully pop the button of his jeans and yank them over his hips. There’s not enough time to rid him of them completely, so Joel settles with the waistband resting just above his knees.

“C’mere,” Joel husks, his lips brushing yours as he speaks and forces your cargo pants over your hips without even bothering to let down the zip. It hurts a little, smarts, but it sparks something desperate in you when you realise it’s pulled down your underwear too, leaving you exposed to his gropes.

One hand grasps the globe of your asscheek, giving a brutally harsh squeeze. The other sinks between your thighs. Joel’s groan of delight when he finds the insides of your thighs soaked causes your cunt to throb before he’s even touched it.

"Is that all me?" He asks you, his voice dipping to a deep, spine-shuddering hum. He sweeps the calloused pad of his index fingertip up the inside of your thigh and through your pussy lips. You can hear the wetness there when he notches against your clit, when he sinks the very tip of his fingers into your entrance. "That all me, or did you like the pornstache more than I realised?"

You usually would scoff in Joel's face, tell him to stop being so ridiculous and self-absorbed, but he's slowly circling your frayed bundle of nerves with his thumb, and your jaw is slack. You can't even think of a witty retort, just grasping feebly at the collar of his denim shirt.

"I'm gonna take what I want from that lack of response," he fills the silence for you, an infuriating smirk settling on his lips as he sinks his fingers inside of you.

The lack of resistance and eagerness from your cunt catches you both off guard, Joel groaning in delight as you take the length of his digits so easily. "Fuck~”

You whimper out Joel’s name, thighs trembling on either side of his lap as he coaxes his fingers towards him inside of you and wasting no time in finding the spot that would bring tears to your eyes.

“Ah,” he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips when he sees your torso crumple inwards as his touch brushes something electric inside you. “Ah- that’s it, ain’t it?”

It’s pathetic. You want to answer him, even sob out wordlessly as the wave of pleasure crashes through you at the delicate touch, but your words are stalled in your throat as Joel circles that sensitive wall inside you with his nimble fingers.

“C’mere,” he growls, seeing your expression contorted desperately and deciding he can’t wait much longer. One hand is still busy with building your orgasm, and his other clumsily pulls down his boxers and exposes his ruddy length.

Joel gives you barely a moment to absorb what it is you see, managing to process the pink tinge to the velvet skin of his cockhead and the smear of precum that glistens under the low lighting before he’s hoisting you over him, knees on either side of his hips.

It’s filthy and disgusting and raw, the way he uses his free hand to sweep his cock across your clit. It sparks something dangerous deep inside your abdomen, another wave of increasingly unmanageable bliss that wraps around your spinal cord and constricts your lungs. You barely choke out his name, your fist punching his shoulder as if to say, ‘stop teasing!’ before Joel sinks into your wet heat with a broken rasp of your name.

Tight. Everything is coiled up so tightly inside you as the width of Joel’s cock-head pushes past your entrance, your walls swallowing him and squeezing him as he sinks in slowly. Your fingernails are digging into his shoulders through his denim shirt, tears of bliss welling in your eyes as he fills you completely. All the while he continues to circle and poke and prod at your g-spot, simultaneously building up your orgasm and wrecking you.

“That’s it,” he husks, breathless as he helps you settle down to the hilt of his dick. He’s nudging your cervix, and you feel so impossibly full that your body is trembling around him, pushed to its absolute limit as your tears stream down your cheeks. They drip from your chin, leaving deeper wet stains across the faded blue of his shirt.

Then he’s shoving his hips upwards and into you, and it’s like you can’t hold onto him tight enough. You’re scrabbling for some kind of grip that can brace you against the simultaneous stimulation of his thrusts and his fingers circling something mind-numbingly raw inside you. The rusty parts of the van creak beneath the motion, and between your slurred curses and weak cries of his name, you’re trying to warn him to be quiet, not to wake Ellie.

You can barely manage to coax him on, eyes rolling back and forehead falling forward onto his shoulder as you give in entirely to the creeping orgasm that picks up your spine.

“C-Can feel you,” Joel stumbles over his own words and laughs, his cock twitching inside you as he continues to drag in and out of your abused pussy, “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna cum for me?”

You want to slap him. Want to make him walk to Pittsburgh with this cocky attitude, this cavalier facade that is so unlike his usual brusque persona. Instead, you’re keening for him, nodding your head against his collarbone and squeaking out your best impression of a ‘yes, Joel, please, please!’

Shit- it’s coming. You feel it racing through you before he even delivers his devastating blow. You think it can’t get any more intense, that it can’t feel any better than this, until he’s pushing his hips upwards and manoeuvres his hand to brush his thumb against your swollen, sensitive clit.

The print of his thumb doesn’t even make it a full rotation before your orgasm comes roaring forwards, slamming through your body to the point it’s almost painful in the best way. You’re quick to smother your scream of his name, biting down hard on the denim fabric at Joel’s throat and releasing the devastating shout of his name into the fibres between your teeth.

Poor Joel stumbles with how hard your body clamps down on him, his galloping thrusts reduced to sloppy stutters of his hips as a grating, pained groan rattles through his ribs beside your ear. Distantly, you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you until his cum is spilling down the sides of his cock.

“God-“ He chokes out, voice catching in his throat as you heave for breath. It’s not as though he has the energy to lift you from him, still buzzing. You’re somewhere else entirely, vision blurry and consciousness far outside the dermis walls of your body.

Slumped against Joel, you focus on breathing. How do you do it again? In and out… In and out. It’s embarrassing, the way he’s left you unsure of essential bodily functions. The ease with which he’s numbed your mind and body.

Ironically, though, he makes it easier to find your way back to yourself. His steady, albeit heavy, breathing ticks like a metronome, easing you down from the impossible high you’ve ascended beneath his touch. He smells like salty sweat, like mud that cakes his boots and the truck's tyres.

“You think maybe we should pick that magazine back up?” Joel mumbled into your hair, oddly quiet and almost shy despite the blunt delivery of the query.

Pausing, you glance up at him through your lashes and catch a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks. He’s staring down at the sidewalk next to the tyres, no doubt eyeing up the pages strewn across the cement flags.

“… Well,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “You never know what survival skills we might need. With your blueprints for Molotovs and upgrading weapons and my articles on ‘bizarre sex positions’, we’re bound to survive the apocalypse-“

“Alright, darlin’,” Joel attempts to speak you down from your amused ramblings, made awkward by the crudeness of the conversation once again.

“I mean, what the fuck is the ‘Pretzel Dip’?”

“Fuck if I know,” he admits with an air of chagrin.

“… You’re not much of a playboy, are you Miller?”

“Shut up and put your pants on.”

END

@hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @hold-our-destiny @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina

RIGHT ON THE MONEY joel miller x f!sex worker!reader 2,959 words warnings; age gap, arguing, unprotected sex

 “oh fuck. that’s it, that’s right. god, i love this pussy so fucking much, that’s it.”

 she was lucky she was on her hands and knees so that the bum behind her couldn’t see her face. she was so incredibly bored, and to tell the whole truth, she just couldn’t wait for him to finish so she could get paid and he’d leave. she even felt like she could fall asleep right then and there, if there weren’t ration cards on the line. 

 so instead, she resorted to gripping onto the dirty sheets that were clearly too small for her mattress and whimpered, praying that her acting skills were believable enough to send her customer over the edge. 

 fortunately, she was a better actress than she thought. 

 “you like that, girl? you like taking my cock?” he panted, his hips stuttering with his release, leaning over her until his forehead pressed against the valley between her shoulder blades. she sighed as she fell into the mattress, her patience running thin the longer she waited for him to climb off of her. his palms soothed over her ass and she flinched when he chuckled, giving her flesh a few light smacks. “always feel so goddamn good,” he muttered breathlessly, finally rolling off of her, the mattress dipping beside her where he laid. “hope to do this again sometime.”

 her hands found her blanket and she balled the fabric in her fists as she sat up, covering her chest as she reached for her shirt, slipping it over her head. “well, as long as you got cards for me, i’m always here,” she replied as she snatched up her underwear from the floor, stepping back into them and tugging them up her thighs. she turned to the man in her bed and cocked an eyebrow, “i’ll take them now, thank you.”

 he rolled his eyes and scoffed as he sat up to snatch his jeans from the ground, digging into his pockets and pulling out a wad of ration cards, tossing them back onto the bed. she dipped her head in thanks as he redressed himself, rolling his neck while he buttoned his shirt back up, making his way over to the door. she followed close behind, catching the door when he threw it open. he turned around, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk as he ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. “see you around.”

 she only pursed her lips and nodded in reply, ready to close the door on him. 

 all up until he turned to stare at something outside her apartment, his eyebrows furrowed. “the fuck are you looking at, old man?”

 her heart skipped a couple of beats at this, and she peeked out into the hallway and there he stood. 

 joel fucking miller.

 she couldn’t remember the last time she’d even seen joel, which was quite remarkable, given the fact he lived literally right next door. she guessed that the last time would have been just a few weeks prior, when her grumpy and, in this case, rightfully annoyed neighbor came knocking on her door one night after her customer had finally left.

 the customer in question from that night was quite a moaner, and really, it was like he wanted the entire building to know what he was doing. he was so loud, and unfortunately, right in her ear, and she swore her eardrums didn’t stop ringing until a few days later.

 it was safe to say that she was especially happy when he finally came, and even more ecstatic when he didn’t hesitate to drop her payment off on the bed and hurry off. she sighed in relief when she closed the door behind him that night, letting her eyelids flutter closed as she leaned back into the door, feeling her muscles ease and relax in her body. 

 that was, until the knocks on her door interrupted her peace.

 the wrinkle in her brow returned deeper than ever, wondering why the fuck her customer would come back. she turned and swung the door open angrily, only for her breath to hitch in her throat when she realized that it wasn’t her customer standing there after all.

 she blinked. joel miller.

 her next door neighbor, the man she’d seen around boston a couple of times, even had a shift with him here and there. they never so much as spoken a word to each other, however, but it certainly didn’t stop her eyes from wandering. he was older than her, at least two or three decades older, but damn it, how could someone have aged so well in the world they lived in now? 

 and there he was standing before her, his eyebrows pinched together, clearly pissed. 

 “you know the walls are thin here, right?” his voice was deep and a little husky, and she flushed, ashamed that it had such an effect on her. “it’d be nice if i could get some sleep.” her eyes widened and her feet shifted beneath her weight, her gaze cowering to the floor below. “i— i’m sorry, i—“ her teeth sunk down into the plush of her bottom lip as she glanced back up at him, “i can make it up to you. what do you want? i can give you some of my ration cards, or i have—“

 “just keep it down,” he interrupted with a grumble, “i don’t care how you get your cards as long as it doesn’t affect my sleeping schedule.” he turned and began to shuffle his feet away and back into his apartment, but something within her didn’t want him to leave, not just yet. so, she practically lunged forward and caught his upper arm with her hand, his breath hitching as he glimpsed from her hand back over to her. 

 “please, let me make it up to you.”

 she was just going to offer him some whiskey or some cards and that was it— full honesty. 

 she couldn’t even remember how one thing led to another, or what came over her and possessed her to creep closer to him, her eyes trained on his lips. 

 she was surprised that he didn’t make any moves to pull away.

 before either of them knew it, their lips were on one another’s and his hands— god, his hands were all over her body, he was practically worshiping her. and for once, she moaned— and not just one of her fake moans she’d emit for the sole purpose of working her customers up in hopes of draining more money from them— no, she moaned at her own will. 

 truth be told, she’d never ever been touched the way joel touched her then. he touched her with a purpose, as if she were a treasure to be sought, to be handled with nothing less than delicacy and respect. joel kissed her with passion, real fervor that was so intoxicating, she felt drunk on it. and when he finally pushed his cock into her and fucked her like none other had before, she actually came, giving her her first real orgasm in she hadn’t even the slightest idea how long. 

 there was no denying that she felt something towards him, felt some sort of connection that she had never felt before. it came so suddenly and all at once that at first, she hadn’t known what to do. but as joel nursed her into her high and she gazed deep into the dark, earthy soils of her irises that were so dark, they seemed to bleed into his pupils, she knew that she was fucked. 

 literally and figuratively. 

 but yet, it was in those ravines of dark umber that she saw something else, something faint but still clearly there. in that little spark of light she seemed to catch in his eyes, she knew— she knew that joel felt something back.

 why else would he be touching her like this, like she was delicate?

 it was because of that glimpse that she was so confused and truthfully, hurt and upset when after that day, he seemed to just never be around. at first, she wondered if he had left boston altogether. he was still her neighbor after all, how could she have not caught him early in the morning or returning back home at midday?

 it was why she decided to stake him out, and it was then that she realized that he hadn’t left boston as she had previously assumed— he was ignoring her.

 it was the reminder of that notion that drove her to mutter his name underneath her breath, ignoring the customer still standing behind her as she narrowed her eyes at the man before her. he glanced away and stepped back into his apartment, hand finding the door to slam it back shut. 

 thank god she was quicker than that. 

 just before the door could slam closed, she smacked her palm into its center and swung it back open, letting it crash into the wall beside it. joel’s eyebrows furrowed at this as he turned, like he was trying to just ignore her presence altogether. when he realized she wasn’t leaving, he turned back to her, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “the fuck are you doing here?” he asked with a sigh, and the wrinkle in her brow deepened. “the fuck am i doing here?” she scoffed, shaking her head and crossing her own arms over her chest. “how about we start with the fact that this is the only way i’ve been able to see you for weeks?” she tittered, throwing an arm off to her side, letting it smack back down to her side. 

 “why do you care?” he questioned, and she rolled back onto her heels, teeth gnawing down on the inside of her cheek. she knew why she cared, the question was: how could she explain to him why? what if all this time, she’d just been misreading his touches, that faint spark she saw in his eyes that night? what if there hadn’t been anything there at all, that she was imagining things. 

 but then, why would joel seem somewhat nervous standing before her today?

 joel usually seemed confident, and it showed in his body language that he knew what he was doing. but right now, as he stood there before her, his body didn’t seem to add up to the way he felt. there was something almost insecure in the way he stood— he almost really did seem nervous. 

 “why do i care?” she reiterated, her vision glossing over with a layer of tears, and she cursed herself for seeming so vulnerable, so weak. but she couldn’t help herself— joel hadn’t escaped her mind one minute since that night weeks ago. tonight, she stood before him, and she feared that it’d be her only chance to tell him how he made her feel. “i care because i— fuck, joel, i feel something for you.”

 the lump at the base of his throat visibly bobbed when he swallowed, clearly taken aback by her admission. she scoffed and rested her hand on her hip, her opposite cupping her forehead as she tore her gaze away from his, trying to sort out her thoughts. she shook her head and blinked away the tears in her vision, although they were still there, evident through the sting in her eye sockets. “and i— i think you felt something that night too.”

 she glanced back up to joel but he wasn’t looking at her anymore, his eyelids closed as he shook his head towards the floor. he snorted, but it was in his hesitation to reply that seemed to make her feel more convinced that she was right. “that’s crazy.”

 she pursed her lips together and dared to step closer to him, and he blinked up at her, furrowing his brow. she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head, the glossy barrier returning to her eyes and burning them. “no it’s not,” she murmured, standing as close before him as he’d let her. “you’re crazy,” he said again, voice firm but yet, still somehow wavering. she dropped her head to catch his gaze again, blinking when she found it, uncertain if a tear had slipped from her eye or not. “what is it? am i crazy? or are you scared?”

 his eyelids narrowed but he didn’t dare speak, now avoiding her gaze altogether.

 she knew it. she fucking knew it. she was right. 

 “are you scared, joel?” she repeated, “are you scared because you think you might have fucking felt something?” 

 he didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. it was in the way he gulped and tried to meet her gaze to prove she was wrong but failing miserably that it was confirmed. she stood a little taller when joel straightened his own posture and looked down at her, the anger he felt before melting away and all he could think to himself was how much he yearned to have her again, just like that night weeks prior. she stepped just a little closer until their breaths were practically one, and for a moment, it was silent, save for the sound of their own uneven breaths. 

 “guess i was right on the money, huh?”

 again, joel didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. instead, he circled his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer, the grays on his chin scratching hers when their lips surged into one another but she didn’t care, in fact, she loved it. she was like putty in his hands when he kissed her, her own hands venturing from his shoulders, up his neck, and all the way to his salt and pepper locks of hair, gripping them tight between her fingers. 

 there it was again, that feeling of being touched like she was made of porcelain, fragile and delicate. she could feel joel’s passion through every touch, through every feel of his tongue exploring her mouth. his grip around her waist only tightened when he backed them up and towards his own mattress, spinning them around so that he could gently guide her down into the bed, their lips never once leaving one another’s. his palms soothed up and down her waist, his fingertips sneaking their way beneath her t-shirt, tugging it up, up, up, breaking their lips apart so that he could slip it over her head. she tugged at the hem of his t-shirt as she panted, insinuating that she wanted it off.

 he was quick to discard his shirt, and she made quick work of unbuckling his belt, letting himself do the rest. he pulled her panties down her thighs, skipping past the foreplay, both of them wanting nothing more than to feel each other as much and as deep as possible.

 when joel bottomed out into her with just one snap of his hips, the moan she released was like music to his ears. he threw his head back and squeezed his eyelids shut, a groan slipping past his lips as he pulled back just to bottom out back into her again. he gazed down at her as a stream of tears fell in rivers down either side of her face, his name along with a string of curses spilling from her lips.

 and joel thought to himself that this was the most complete he could remember feeling in years. 

 she reached up for his face and he obliged, letting his body fall down onto hers, their lips finding one another once again. joel’s pace was brutal, just the right mix of hard and deep that had her over the moon. for a moment, the entire world, fucked up as it was, and all it’s infecteds and humans and all living things seemed to melt away, leaving them, just them. 

 for at least a little while, it was just her and joel.

 “oh, joel,” she cried between kisses, his forehead resting against hers as he pounded into her sopping heat faster and faster, and she tightened around him, chasing both of their highs. her elbows rested on either of his shoulders and his fingers tugged at his hair, her hips grinding up into his, seeking even more friction. she wanted him deep, as deep as possible. 

 she was drunk again, drunk on joel.

 “oh fuck, oh, fuck!” she mewled and she clenched around him again, earning a string of grunts and groans from him. “i’m gonna— oh joel, you’re gonna make me come.” he nodded his head against hers, trying to catch his breath enough to speak. his hips dared thrust even harder, droplets of sweat dripping down onto her skin as he sent her tumbling over the edge. his hips stuttered when he came soon after, letting himself go inside of her, letting himself be vulnerable for someone else for the first time in a long time.

 silence fell down over them like a warm blanket as their sweat-slicked chests heaved, both chasing air back into their lungs. joel slid off of her and landed on the spot of the mattress beside her, one hand resting on his stomach, the other sliding behind her head to support it. she turned her head and blinked over at him, her lips curving up into the shape of a crescent moon as she turned herself onto her side, resting her hand on top of his. with the arm stretched behind her head, he drew her in closer until she was nestled into his side, his fingers finding his blanket and draping it over their bodies. 

 “you feeling alright?” he murmured and her smile grew, nodding. “i feel.. wonderful.”

a/n; so that fic i was talking about earlier today… yeah.. finished this sucker all in one sitting while rewatching episode two lol anyways i think i feel kind of good about my writing here, so hopefully you all enjoy<3 and as always, feel free to imagine either pedro’s joel or video game joel

Bad Boy Type

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: Girls' night at Billy and Max's new place takes a turn when El insists on you marrying Billy.

Warnings: Mentions of Neil, extreme fluff, mutual pining (because I'm a whore for that shit), language

Word Count: 4056

A/N: This might be the fluffiest thing I've written. It's also the longest. And yes, I still have requests to finish. But life really said, "It's Billy's time," and I'm not mad about it.

You were fiercely protective over Max and El since you met. They became the younger sisters you never had. You’d do anything for them. And you always made sure to plan something with them as often as possible.

Today, you three were holed up at Max and Billy’s new place. It wasn’t much. It was a steal since it’d been so run down no one else wanted it. You and the rest of your group helped fix up what you could. After everything you’d all been through, it created an untouchable bond. And everyone was eager to help in whatever way they could, especially once Max confided in you about Billy’s father. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Neil was a shitty person. He gave off enough hostility to power a freight train. A few months after renovating, the house was finally livable. And between your car and Billy’s, they moved within the hour.

All three of you were on the floor around the coffee table, snacking on candy and discussing very important business.

“Okay, okay,” Max said, trying to rein in her laughter. “El, kiss, marry, kill…The Outsiders.”

You grinned and leaned closer as El looked down in thought.

“Kiss Sodapop, marry Johnny, and…I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said timidly.

And because it was El, you and Max accepted that.

You faced Max. “I’m guessing yours would be the same?”

“I’m killing Steve,” she added, and you snickered. “What about you?”

You hummed, running through the characters before picking three.

“Kill Two-Bit, kiss Darry, marry Dally,” you said with a nod.

“Dally’s an asshole!” Max groaned, slapping her thighs.

“But he’s hot,” you countered.

“But he’s an asshole,” she repeated, giving you a look.

“But he’s hot.”

After a few seconds, you all started giggling. You really loved spending time with these two.

El grew quiet, deep in thought, and she made you and Max stop laughing with her question.

“What about Billy?”

Your brow furrowed. “Billy?”

She nodded. “Would you marry him?”

Your face grew warm. Did El think because you liked the bad boy character in a film, you liked one in reality?

Billy had never been outright rude to you—his attitude rubbed you the wrong way—cocky and smug like he knew he could get away with almost anything. It wasn’t until after the Mind Flayer that you befriended him.

You’d describe your friendship as…quiet. You didn’t hang out together—only in a group with everyone or Steve and the other adults. Usually, though, you saw him most when you, Max, and El hung out.

You were the girls’ friend first and foremost. When you started picking Max up when they lived with their parents, he always scowled at you through the door as she raced to your car. Later, you thought it had something to do with Neil’s reactions to his stepdaughter not being home even though he knew where Max was. You had enough knocks on the door from Billy to put two and two together.

Now, Billy was relaxed when you picked her up or stayed over. You sometimes wondered if he was glad Max had you to rely on now that it was just him and his stepsister. If she ever needed anything, he could count on you to lend him a hand.

So while he wasn’t the same rage-filled boy you knew in high school, his reputation still preceded him. Though now you knew him in a different light—provider, protector, and maybe that was why you started to like him.

You shook your head to rid yourself of that thought.

“I…Well, I…I don’t…” Jesus Christ! How were you supposed to answer this without giving yourself away?

Just then, a car door slammed. Billy’s home.

He threw his jacket on the hook and his keys on the table and stopped when he noticed you, Max, and El.

His eyes seemed to linger on you before addressing everyone.

“Hey,” he said, mentally kicking himself. Couldn’t he think of anything better to say? Maybe “you look nice,” not “hey.”

“How was work,” you asked, still trying to shake off El’s question and the fact that he walked in as if summoned.

“Fine. Didn’t know you’d be over.” He would've cleaned up and made it look nice. Maybe then he could cook you dinner.

He had to stop from asking if this little get-together was overnight. He sure hoped so.

“I dragged her out of her house for girls' day. They’re sleeping over, too,” Max said. Maybe she could read his mind—maybe that was why most of your time was spent at Billy’s place and not yours—because Max knew he needed an excuse to talk to you since the Mind Flayer.

He nodded slowly and gestured toward the bathroom.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Order pizza or I can make spaghetti?” he asked.

You tilted your head at his words. Billy cooked?

It made sense. You’re sure he’s had to fend for himself most of his life. You just never thought about him in the kitchen.

Before you could say anything, El said, “I like spaghetti.” And that seemed to settle it.

When Billy left, Max leaned forward. “Don’t worry, he’s actually a really good cook.”

And to play off your daydreams of Billy cooking you breakfast, you said, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

—

When Billy emerged from the steamy bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you were both relieved and disappointed your back faced him.

The girls were telling you their boyfriend troubles, and it took everything in you not to imagine the remaining water tracing Billy’s toned stomach.

“Sometimes I think you have the right idea,” Max said, flopping back in the chair.

You blinked, coming back to reality. “Me? What idea is that?”

“Being single.” She shrugged. “Boys are a pain in the ass.”

You rolled your eyes. “While that is true, sometimes I think it’d be nice to have my person, you know?”

“Your person?” El asked, furrowing her brow.

“Someone who’s always there for you, no matter what. They accept every part of you, good and bad.” You sighed. “They're the person you want to be around the most.”

She looked at you seriously. “We are your person.”

It nearly brought tears to your eyes. One of the many reasons you loved El was her heart.

“C’mere,” you whispered, holding open your arms.

She scootched toward you and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“You too.” You motioned Max over.

That’s how Billy found you three, hugging each other on the couch like you were trying to absorb into one being.

“Am I interrupting some girl thing?” he asked, opening the cabinet.

You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. “No, you’re fine.” You looked over the back of the couch. “Anything I can help with?”

He gave you a flirty smile. “Don’t worry. I got it.”

It didn’t take long for him to announce it was ready, and you all grabbed your plates and huddled around the coffee table again. A little thrill went through you when Billy sat beside you, taking your dish from you and setting it down so you could lower yourself.

It was quiet for a few minutes as you all took your first bites. It was only pasta and marinara sauce, but it hit the spot. Maybe it was because Billy made it.

“I’m impressed,” you said, waving your fork around your plate.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Billy mused, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Does this mean you’ll marry Billy?”

You nearly choked on the bite you took. You wished she could read minds so you could scream, “Not the freaking time!”

Billy’s face flushed as he glanced between you two.

“Am I missing something?” He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating. You wanted to marry him? Well, no. It sounded like you didn’t want to marry him. Why didn’t you want to marry him?

“No,” you said quickly. Billy tried to convince himself his chest didn’t constrict at that word. 

“(Y/N) would marry Dally,” El said. “And Dally’s an asshole.”

You put your face in your hands. There was no stopping her.

“And I’ve called you an asshole so many times.” Max provided as an explanation.

Billy could only look at you, and as you curled further in on yourself, he smirked—even though he’d been called an asshole twice—maybe there was something to El’s question.

“Didn’t think you were into that type,” he said, leaning back against the couch.

“I’m not. Not really.” You couldn’t look at him, opting to push the noodles around your plate.

“No? Then what is your type, sweetheart?”

He was teasing you. You could push back with teasing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That’s why I asked.” And the way he said it, it took on a seriousness you weren’t prepared for—like he really wanted to know because he cared about the answer. Like it meant something to him.

“I—”

The phone saved you. And Max jumped up.

“It’s probably Lucas,” she said. They’d been having a good week.

You took the opportunity to excuse yourself. “I’m gonna change.”

You grabbed your things and closed the bathroom door.

—

Billy watched as you fled. It was cute how flustered he could make you. And that’s when an idea struck him.

With you and Max busy, he turned to El.

“You think she likes me?” he asked, leaning toward her.

“Do you mean like like?” She stared at him with those big innocent eyes.

He nodded.

“I think so.”

“You think so? She hasn’t said anything to you or Max? Girls talk about that stuff at girls' night, right?” He bit his cheek. Was he reading the signs wrong? Were his feelings clouding his judgment?

Since his recovery, you’ve always been there. You made sure he took care of himself and kept an eye on Max. When he told you about the rundown little place he found, you got Hopper on board to pull a few strings and help remodel. Hell, you got everyone to help.

He still remembered the day you painted the walls, and you and Robin put handprints on each other's chests. He and Steve had said, “What about us,” and you and Robin fitted them with their own set. He still had that shirt.

Even the shit that went down with Steve. You were somehow able to mend things between them. It took a lot of work, and arguments popped up, but with you there, he did it. He didn’t have many friends at Hawkins High—they were a means to an end. However, now? He had ones that would have his back in an apocalyptic world. And it was because of you.

You were his rock, even if you didn’t know it. And he wanted to be that person for you.

“She doesn’t tell us,” El said. “But she looks at you the way Nancy looks at Jonathan.”

He knew the look she was talking about, and he hoped she was right.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“You…You like her, right?” she asked tentatively.

He smiled fondly. “More than Eggos.”

El giggled.

He shook his head slightly, smile remaining, mumbling, “Just want her ‘round all the time.”

She beamed, but before she could say another word, you and Max returned.

—

Everyone seemed to forget about the conversation before the phone rang. When you came out of the bathroom, El asked if you could start watching movies, and Max quickly put The Karate Kid in.

What surprised you the most was Billy making popcorn and bringing everyone a soda. You thought he’d retreat to his room like he usually did, but he sat next to you on the couch as the girls spread out on the floor with their own bowl of popcorn.

Halfway through the movie, the sun had set, and the air grew cooler. You rubbed your arm absentmindedly, focused on the screen. You vaguely noticed Billy disappearing somewhere, and when he returned, he held a sweatshirt.

Your heart sped up a little at his offer.

You played it off and raised an eyebrow when he handed it to you.

“You’re cold, right,” he asked, putting it in your lap when you didn’t take it right away.

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I’m just shocked you own a sweatshirt.”

He rolled his eyes but held back a smile. “Very funny.” Then when he was settled. “Indiana’s fucking cold.”

You slipped it over your head, the material warming and engulfing you in his scent. Bunching the sleeves into your fists, you leaned against the cushion and tucked your legs under you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

The movie soon ended, and Max inserted the second film.

Neither you nor Billy spoke after that. It was…nice...being there with him.

Between him and his sweatshirt, you were surrounded by warmth. The noise from the TV lulled into the background, and before you knew it, you were asleep.

Billy noticed almost immediately. He’d been arguing with himself about whether to put an arm around you after he gave you his hoodie.

After the shit he went through, Billy didn’t go after women. He was so in his head about what he’d done—what the monster made him do—he thought everyone was better off if he stayed away. And his body wasn’t the same afterward. Part of him wondered if you’d recoil if he touched you.

And then your head was on his shoulder. Your soft breathing in his ear. And he froze for a second. But then he sunk into you.

If this was the only time you’d be this close to him, he would take it.

He carefully moved his arm to pull you closer, and you shifted in your sleep to snuggle into him. He let his cheek rest against your head for one…two…three…four…five seconds, then lifted back up. He didn’t want Max or El to catch him and ask questions.

It wasn’t long until the movie ended, and the girls were passed out on the floor. And Billy debated staying right where he was, but he knew he shouldn’t.

He did indulge and place a feather-light kiss on the crown of your head before laying you down and pulling a blanket over you. He did the same for El and Max. And once the VHS was safely back in its case, he walked to his room with a final look at you thrown over his shoulder.

—

When the rising sun hit your eyelids, all you wanted was to turn over and go back to sleep. The sizzle of a frying pan and the smell of pancakes made you sit up.

Billy was by the stove, waiting to flip them and keeping a watchful eye on the bacon.

“Smells good,” you whispered, mindful of the two sleeping girls. Billy’s sweatshirt protected you from the morning chill.

He glanced at you and quirked his lips up. “It’s almost ready.”

You gave him a small smile in return, and it took you a moment to realize he had never done this before. Dinner was one thing, but breakfast was entirely different.

“What brought this on?” you asked, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to impress you again.” He finally turned around to face you and crossed his arms, spatula in hand.

You let out a breathy laugh, looking down before eyeing the cooking pancakes.

“Don’t let them fold in on themselves when you flip them, and you’re golden,” you teased. 

He raised a brow at you, turned around, and seamlessly flipped both over before setting the spatula down and facing you once more.

You held your hands up in surrender. “Consider me impressed.”

“Good.” He pulled a mug out of the cabinet for himself. “You sleep okay?”

You shrugged. “Good enough. Didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”

He would have gladly lent you his bed. He didn’t even need to be in it with you. He would’ve taken the small couch he had crammed in his room.

“Good thing you don’t snore. I think Max would’ve suffocated you,” he said.

You bumped your shoulder with his. “She likes me too much.”

You stared at each other for a moment. Something about Billy in the morning, with the soft light from the sun reflecting in his eyes and shading his hair, was almost breathtaking. He was relaxed, and you hoped it slowly became his new normal.

His eyes trailed down to your lips, and you swore you stopped breathing until you glanced away and saw the pancakes.

“Better watch before they burn,” you said, swallowing to rid yourself of your dry throat.

He had forgotten about them as he took you in. From your pajamas to your still-sleepy gaze and the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest—you seemed so…at home here.

He tried to shake that thought as he plated breakfast and set it down at the kitchen table.

You could lean against the counter every morning, sipping coffee as he made you both breakfast. He’d peck your lips each time he passed you for something, and as he waited for things to finish cooking, he would wrap his arms around your shoulders and bury his nose in your hair. Your arms would tighten around his waist, and you’d both stand there, completely content as the warm rays filtered in.

Since last night, since El’s question, a spark had ignited within him. The flicker of…hope, something he hadn’t felt since…since…he didn’t even know when. You didn’t say you wanted him explicitly, but if El saw a connection between him and Dally, then maybe you did too. He couldn’t deny that he’d been a dick in the past. He was still trying to correct those mistakes. But where Dallas Winston had Johnny, Billy had…well…the closest he could think of was you.

And potentially having a life with you? That didn’t sound too bad. Not at all.

You sat across from one another. You could feel Billy’s eyes on you. When you glanced up from your breakfast, he gave you a smirk as if to say, “Impressed?”

You were about to speak, but he beat you to it.

“So, we didn’t finish our discussion last night.”

“Discussion?” You tilted your head.

He nodded and tried to keep his smug smirk at bay. “You into the bad boy type, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widened before you covered your face with your hand. “Didn’t the time for this pass?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “C’mon, tell me, what’s it about him that gets you goin’?”

You shook your head and attempted to suppress your smile. Even though this was embarrassing, you still found Billy cute.

“I’m not doing this with you and that dirty mind of yours. It’s too early. Besides, the girls are still sleeping,” you said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh please, Max used to hear me with girls.” He stated it like a fact, without pride or accomplishment in his voice.

“I know. She’s complained to me multiple times,” you said matter-of-factly.

He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing pink. It surprised you.

He shrugged as if to shake off his actions. “Guess Winston and I are different then.”

“That’s not such a bad thing.” You hoped your smile told him that it really wasn’t a bad thing—that you genuinely liked the person he was growing into—that you cared for him.

“Hope so,” he said softly, taking a bite.

You could’ve stayed there and stared at him for the rest of the day. His eyes were so blue, his hair still a bit messy, and he just looked…he just looked content.

You wanted to reach across the table, grab his hand, hold it between yours and trace each finger. Maybe he’d stop you by pulling your hand to his lips. Maybe, you’d follow with your own.

And as soon as that thought reared its head, Max and El strolled into the kitchen.

“You made pancakes?” Max’s face scrunched up.

“We have guests,” Billy said with a shrug. Like he was concerned with being a good host.

At least for you, he was.

“When has that forced you to do anything?” she asked, stacking her plate.

You locked eyes with Billy from across the table and smiled shyly.

—

“So, you coming here next week?” he asked, putting your bag in the backseat for you.

You shook your head. “It’s at mine next week. Parents are away for a few days. I was thinking of making it an all-weekend thing.”

He slowly nodded, disappointed he wouldn’t see you—only to drop Max off and pick her up.

“Just let me know when I can get the shitbird out of my hair.” It’s all he thought to say to hide his discontentment.

You pursed your lips. It was now or never. “Actually, I was thinking—if you weren’t too busy, maybe you could come over, too? I know it’s technically ‘girls' night,’ but…last night was really nice.”

He tried to keep his face neutral, make it seem like he wasn’t experiencing heart palpitations, but his smile couldn’t stay hidden. It made you immediately relax.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

The way he looked at you sent shivers up your spine and heat through your veins. It was like he couldn’t believe you were real. You’d never seen him have this warmth in his gaze. Like he’d happily follow you anywhere and listen to every word you said.

You returned his smile with a gentle one of your own. “Good,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly.

He really was beautiful in the sunlight. His skin full of its own sun. You were so close to each other earlier that you felt it radiating off him. It took everything in you not to rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle in.

He took a step forward, resting a hand on the roof of your car. “You gonna make me sleep on the floor at yours?”

You lightly bit your lip. And fuck, you were in for the best kind of trouble. “Depends on how much you impress me.”

“And what do I have to do to make that happen?” There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.

You tried to repress your smile as you leaned to whisper in his ear. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips. He shivered when your breath hit his skin.

“You’ll have to figure it out.” You pulled back with a little smirk, and he let out a soft chuckle.

His gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips and back again. His hand came up to caress your cheek, grazing his thumb there.

“Not even a little hint?” he asked teasingly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You pushed your head further into his hand.

He hummed. “Guess you’re right. Have to earn it.”

You grinned. “I have complete faith in you.”

And even though you were both joking with each other, that meant more to him than he would ever admit. You believed in him. You had gotten to know him and helped him through the hardest parts of his life without even knowing it. He wanted to prove to you that trust wasn’t misplaced. That he deserved your patience, your kindness, your love.

Without another thought, he pulled you into his embrace. He held onto you like he was afraid to lose you—like you’d suddenly change your mind and not see him.

You could feel it in the way he held you. You struck something, something crucial, something he needed to hear. So, you hugged him back, smoothing your hand up and down his spine.

When you pulled away, you slipped your hand into his. “I should probably get going.”

He nodded. “Get home safe.”

“Thanks, Billy,” you said. “I’ll see you next week.”

Before you could step around him, he encircled your wrist gently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“See you next week, sweetheart,” he said, a smirk slipping back onto his face.

You shook your head slightly as you climbed into your car, waving to him as you pulled out.

He stood there, watching you drive further away from him. And he knew you two were about to be much much closer.

Hi hi! I’m sure you’re being flooded, but I’d love a little something about younger (20 or older though!) reader babysitting for dad! Steve. Smutty if you feel so inclined. Can be single or not, dealer’s choice!

I went wayyyy overboard with this, oops, but it was so sexy omfg

word count: 2k

warnings: huge age gap (45+ vs 20), unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral m receiving, sliiiightly mean dom steve, size kink, stomach bulge kink, daddy kink

You'd been crushing on Mr. Harrington for years, actually... even before the divorce.

It wasn't just that he was good-looking, although that was obviously part of it. It was the way he acted with you, it made you feel all girly and little and dumb; it was the way he played with his kids which made your uterus sob in envy; it was the way he wore reflective shades to the pool and you had to wonder if he was looking at you and seeing how much you'd grown.

For the longest, much to your dismay, nothing happened between you. You'd been trying to make conversation after he came back each night to finish your babysitting shift, but it never really worked. Nothing worked, actually, not even the skimpy outfits or the strategic bending over or the casual touches to his arm or knee.

Nothing worked until last night.

It started mostly normal, except that he was obviously in a worse mood than usual. You asked how his date went; he dodged the question. You pressed again, and he shook his head as he sat down on the couch, running his hands over his hair.

"It's starting to feel futile," he explained, speaking quietly knowing his kids were asleep down the hall.

"What is?"

"All of it," he breathed. "Dating, work, all of it."

You sat next to him, pulling your knees up on the sofa and tilting your head sympathetically. "Tell me about it," you offered.

Amazingly, he did. He told you about how each woman he went out with was worse than the last, and he didn't trust any of them with his kids. That made your heart skip; I'm his babysitter, he trusts me with his kids.

He told you about how rough the divorce had been, and then the custody arrangements. Apparently he was still dealing with that even though Mrs. Harrington had moved out probably almost two years ago now.

He told you about how hard his job was, how the hours killed him, how he could barely find time to spend with his family because he was putting out everyone else's fires at the office.

"That all sounds really stressful, Mr. Harrington," you cooed when he finished his rant. "You need to relax."

He chuckled a little. "Easier said than done."

"Maybe I can help you."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, but his eyes went wide as he watched you get on your knees on the ground.

"Let me help you relax, Mr. Harrington," you pleaded, running your hands over his legs gently as they stayed slightly spread on the couch.

"Oh, uh— I— sweetie, we can't—"

You reached up to his belt, and even if his words were hesitant, he lifted his hips slightly to make it easier for you to unbuckle it.

"Are you— fuck— are you really—? Baby..."

It made your hips wiggle against the carpet hearing him talk like that. You got his fly open next, and started to rub his cock through his boxers underneath. His eyes followed your every move in disbelief.

He was just starting to get hard when you took him out, but he was already so big... your mouth was watering. You couldn't wait any longer: you looked up at him for just a second before you leaned forward and took his fat head into your mouth.

Groaning and tilting his head back, his hands found purchase in your hair instantly.

"Fuuuck," he breathed, "you're... you're so bad, sweetie, you know you shouldn't... oh my god."

You bobbed your head eagerly, feeling him swell and harden against your tongue until your mouth was stretched to its limit by his size. You hummed around him joyfully, revelling in the softly salty taste on your tongue. Stroking with your hand what your lips couldn't reach, you took a break after a few minutes to look up at him for approval.

"Where'd a sweet girl like you learn how to do that?" he asked with a long sigh. "Fuck, keep sucking... look up at me, baby."

You did as you were told, and he adjusted his hips slightly so it was easier for you to keep eye contact with him while you suckled at his throbbing head.

"Good," he praised, stroking your cheek as you worked. "Such pretty eyes... and that pretty mouth too, god. Take it deeper, sweetie, you can choke a little."

His hand helped push you down until his dick hit the end of your throat, and you gagged helplessly. He moaned loudest at that, eyes falling shut for a moment.

"Too big for your little mouth, huh?" he noticed. "Poor baby. Choke on me again."

You did as he said and noticed his hips rocking up to push his cock even deeper and gag you even harder. Tears welled in your eyes but he purred in satisfaction.

"Mm, good job," he praised, "you're so good for me, sweetie."

Needing a break for your throat, you pulled back and stroked him slowly as you made conversation. "How long has it been since somebody sucked your cock, Mr. Harrington?" you asked sweetly.

"Fuck, I don't even know— years? Before Allie was born, probably. She didn't... she never did it, really," he mumbled, and you tried not to bite your lip. Of course his bitch ex-wife never did this to him, he was probably so starved for affection for ages.

"That's such a shame," you pouted, "it tastes so good. I'd never be able to stop tasting you, Mr. Harrington."

"Then don't stop," he encouraged, pushing your head down again. You got back into the pattern, only taking breaks to lathe the shaft in long licks from base to tip; he seemed to like those a lot.

Sometimes you felt his cock throb and you hoped it meant he would come soon: you couldn't wait. You went on for a while longer, though, and started to get desperate for it. When his heavy breathing made you pretty sure he was close, you broke the pattern one more time to encourage him. "I want you to come in my mouth," you informed him. "M'gonna swallow it, sir, I promise."

"No, fuck no," he interrupted, surprising you. "No, I want that pussy. Fuck, I need your pussy, get up here."

You climbed onto the couch eagerly, straddling his lap as he started to pull your skirt up right away. He snapped your panties off like it was nothing, instantly groaning at the sight of your mound beneath; you felt so exposed in the best way, you worried you were going to drip right down onto his khakis with him looking at you like that.

"Fuck, sweetie, you're so gorgeous," he sighed, "such a gorgeous little pussy. C'mere..."

He held your thighs, petting them as he guided you down to his cock. He stopped looking at it once he was just barely pushing inside, instead starting to watch your face as you sank down onto his length with a moan. "Fuck!" you whimpered. "Fuck, too big, you're too—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed, "gotta be quiet, baby, the kids are asleep."

Your gut burned from how stupidly hot that was, and you bit your lip to try to keep it down. His cock reached the end of you and you jolted, trying to move back up, but he shook his head and kept guiding you down.

"No, sweetie, you need to take all of me," he scolded gently. "You're gonna take all of me, fuck, so good..."

Finally, somehow, he managed to get it all inside until your thighs were flush with his. You were shaking, it was so deep you were shaking; there was a slight bulge in your tummy where his cock filled you. "Mr. Harrington, it's too deep..."

He growled, actually growled, and held your hips tightly. "No, baby, it's just the right amount. You're taking me so good... all of my cock is in you, sweetie, you're doing so fucking good. Now just ride me."

Shaking and whimpering, you started to rock your hips on top of his; he sighed and watched you, looking wrecked in the best way.

"Yeah, fuck," he encouraged, "fuck, you know how long it's been since I had pussy like this? Tight, wet, young pussy like yours? You feel so fucking good..."

"You too," you moaned, "you feel so good, Mr. Harrington..."

He smirked a bit. "I think we're on a first name basis by now... but I want you to keep calling me that anyways. It's so fucking cute."

Pulling you a little closer, he whispered right by your ear.

"Maybe," he suggested, "you could even call me daddy."

"Oh, daddy," you pounced on the opportunity immediately, and he groaned in satisfaction. "Daddy, it feels really really good..."

"Yeah? Well then why don't you cream for me, huh? Let that cute little pussy come on my cock—"

You didn't even let him finish. You'd been worked up since he got here and it hit you all at once. He watched you proudly, thin laughter ringing in your ears.

"God, you're so sensitive," he groaned, "it's gonna take me a while, baby, I'm not as young as you... takes me all night sometimes."

You shuddered; "I don't have anywhere to be..."

"Yeah you do," he corrected, starting to guide your hips as your motions faltered from the exhaustion of coming. "Your parents are probably worried about you, sweetie. They don't know what a slut you are, do they?"

You shook your head. "N-no, daddy..."

"Fuck," he breathed, "you're so cute... show daddy your tits, sweetie— lift up your shirt for me and show me your tits."

He was more than capable of doing it himself, but he preferred to watch you roll up your tank top and let him see your tits, hardened from being so turned on by all this. You'd stopped wearing a bra around him months ago, and it was all worth it as he reached up and palmed one of your breasts.

"Mm," he hummed, "you've got great tits, baby— you show them off too much, though."

He slid his hand across your chest to touch the other gently. "I only did that for you, Mr. Harrington," you promised, "I just wanted your attention... wanted you to see how grown up I am..."

He smirked. "You got my fucking attention, sweetie."

With renewed energy, you started to take control again, riding him in earnest. "Really?" you confirmed hopefully. "Did you think about me, daddy? Did you ever jerk off and think about my tits?"

He delayed his answer by hissing a little, looking down at where your pussy slid up and down on him before tilting his head back again. "Yes," he admitted, "yeah, I thought about you. I would've done it a lot more if I knew you wanted me to."

"Of course I wanted you to," you giggled, "I have such a big crush on you, Mr. Harrington, I have for so long..."

"A crush, huh?" he laughed.

You nodded eagerly, whining when he held onto you tighter and started to thrust up into you off the couch.

"You know I'm more than twice your age, right?" he reminded you with a purr, and you nodded. "You know I'm older than your dad, right?"

Your head was spinning, but you nodded again.

"And you know I could get you pregnant... right?"

You moaned, head falling back, and he laughed.

"I knew it," he gloated, "I knew that was what you wanted— knew you needed some babies fucked into you, sweet girl. Daddy's gonna knock you up, s'that what you want?"

"Yes, yes!" you sobbed.

You weren't moving at all now, you were limp and useless as he thrust up into you hard and fast, making you cry and moan so loudly he had to cover your mouth. "I'll come, fuck, nice and deep," he promised, "and give you a baby, yeah? Get you so full and pregnant, just how you want it."

You were begging him for it, but it was all muffled into nonsense under his hand as he fucked up into you rough and fast. It ended with a groan, his head falling back and his body going limp under you as he came. You collapsed onto him, both of you sinking into the couch as you caught your breath.

His hands rested on your thighs still, sometimes petting them or moving up to your waist; you shyly hid your face in the crook of his neck, hardly believing that this really happened— and terrified you would wake up and realize it was all a wonderful dream. "Think I'm gonna need you to babysit for me again tomorrow night," he broke the silence suddenly. "I'll pay double for the short notice."

"I'll do it for free," you replied.