#free my man he did all of it but I don’t care
Note
OMG HANDMKFUXHAB
reader running away makes me so happy 🥺🥺 if you plan on making a part 4 for the creepy trucker series im on the edge of my seat!!!!
I'm so happy so many people enjoyed the cliffhanger with her running away!! I hope part 4 doesn't disappoint🩷
Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part 4 (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part1, Part2, Part3
Master List✍🏽
Tags: @nachofriess, @blue-spices, @teddy2510, @soosouyoung, @vivasab0tage
🚫As usual this story has HEAVY triggers! Please do not read if you cannot handle them! Ily all and I hope you take care of your body and mind🩷🚫
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>cw: fem/afab, non-con, p in v, being chased, pregnancy, Stockholm syndrome
3.2k word count
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As you run you can hear the booming of footsteps, quickly in your mind you’re trying to figure out where you will go; you can’t just keep running, he will outrun you. You see a woman getting into a car with a man so you run to her, yelling in your native language, “Help me! Please!”
The woman looks at you scared and locks the car doors, hitting the guy to start driving. He does and quickly tries to get away from you and whatever danger you, a foreigner, is causing. Your heart sinks and you begin to cry loudly, clearly very distressed. You don’t stop running.
Across the road you can see a row of small businesses. Without thinking you just run across the road. You hear a car horn and tires screeching.
“MAUS!” König shouts as he sees you almost get hit by a car. He sees the car stopping just before it hits you. He freezes for a second as you do in front of the car. Then you look over at him and keep running. König pursues.
You continue to run, more cars having to stop, honking at you for dashing in front of them. König is right behind you also causing traffic to stop as he runs in front of cars. You make it to the other side.
Running into one of the stores, you run up to a man shopping and begin to ask him to call the cops. The man looks at you confused and backs away. Running pass, him, you go to the woman working behind the register.
“Please help me. There is a man that kidnapped me and is chasing me! Please!” She looks at you with the same look before telling you to go.
“No, no, I need help! Please!”
“Get out!” she shouts at you; she assumes you caused trouble for yourself and wants nothing to do with it.
Then König comes into the store, his eyes looking over the place and you run and hide; ducking behind the shelves in an aisle. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, your breathing shaking as you try to sneak out of the store past König.
König walks up to a man and in German begins to describe you, asking if he saw you.
“My crazy wife is manic and ran out of the car, she isn’t taking her medicine, please I’m trying to help her.” König lied very convincingly to the man. He nodded and pointed to the other side of the store where he saw you run.
You hear his footsteps as you try to guess which way they’re about to go. You take your chance and make a run for it. König’s head snaps and begins to run after you. The lady behind the counter yelling at you and König to take this somewhere else.
Just as you’re about to escape through the door, the man in the shop grabs you. You begin to fight the man, “Let me go!”
“Bitte sei ruhig.” The man says thinking that you’re a mentally ill person.
Then you hear König’s voice, thanking the man for his help. His massive hands grasp your arms tightly and pull you to him. He wraps your arms in an x across your chest and wraps his arms tightly around them, lifting you.
You kick back, trying to hit König and shake your body trying to break free, but nothing works. König thanks the man again and begins to walk you out of the store. You’re crying as he does, making sure to quickly cross the road again.
“You fucked up Maus, you really did.”
“Please just let me go!” You sob still trying to break free but twisting your body.
König squeezes you so hard the air leaves your lungs, “Stop!”
You give up and just sob, “Please, let me go!”
“You’re mine, you have to realize that.”
You sob as he walks back to the truck. A small group of people standing outside and watching this happen. König looks at them, feeling panic but trying to appear as a worried husband. He loudly apologizes to the crowd for your behavior and tells the same lie about you being manic.
One older woman in the crowd didn’t believe König, something in her gut telling her that you’re in trouble and that he is lying. She feels helpless watching this scene play out in front of her. She seems to be the odd man out so she is scared to say something. She just watches with sadness in her eyes.
Once back inside the truck, König slams you down hard on the bed and slaps you. “You stupid bitch! You could have gotten hurt! Gotten me caught! Selfish!”
König grabs your handcuffs and restrains you again. This time also grabbing a rope and tying your ankles. You try to kick him as he reaches for them, but he is stronger than you as he grasps them firmly. He ties them so tightly that it hurts. He grabs an old t-shirt laying on the floor and stuffs it into your mouth so he doesn’t have to hear your screaming anymore.
“I was being nice to you, and you fucked it up.” He grows at you as he quickly gets into the drivers’ seat and begins to drive off.
The woman watches the semi take off as she gets on the bus with her group. A heavy guilty feeling in her stomach because she didn’t do anything. She sits next to her friend on the bus, 40 minutes pass as she sits in silence.
“What is wrong?” Her friend asks.
“I-I feel as if that man was lying. That woman looked terrified.”
Her friend nods her head, “She did.” They both take a deep breath before she speaks again, “Maybe you should report it?”
“I think I will.” She takes out her cell phone and calls the emergency hotline. She describes you and König, giving details about the odd situation that unfolded before you all today. She tells them the address and describes the semi the best she can, but she never got his license plate. The man on the line thanks her and they get off the phone.
Because of the adrenalin that flooded through your body, you ended up crashing hard and falling asleep after an hour. König was relieved, but now paranoid that someone might have called for help. Every few minutes he looks over his shoulder to check if he’s being trailed by a cop. This whole situation made him realize you’re safer at home where you can use the bathroom and eat inside the house instead of interacting with the outside world. You’ve lost those privileges.
Hours pass since the incident; you don’t know exactly how much time though. You open your eyes to very bright sunlight flooding your vision. You try to move your hand in front of your eyes to block the light, but you’re still cuffed. This time though you realize your legs and arms are handcuffed spread apart. You’re on a bed in some house. You lean your head forward and look around. You see a wooden desk, wooden dresser, and a dark blue recliner. Next to the recliner is a tripod and a ring light.
Trying to pull yourself free you realize that you’re completely naked. You begin to shake and pull, letting out an aggravated groan once you can’t pull your limbs free. Heavy footsteps travel down the hall, approaching the door to the room you’re in.
König opens the door and walks forward towards you. He stops near the side of your bed and caresses your stubbly legs. “Finally awake.”
You look at him with fear in your eyes, “Where are we?”
“My house, our house.” He sits beside you on the bed. “Why did you run? I was so nice to you.”
“I- I,” you can’t even think of a way to answer without angering him and making things worse. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” König tilts his head to the side and looks at you with a blank stare.
“Yes.”
“No, you aren’t Maus. You’re just scared. But don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. You’ve just lost your privileges. You’re safe. Don’t worry.”
While he is trying to be comforting, he isn’t. He’s the one keeping you captive. He’s the one hurting you and taking you away from a happy life. You keep your eyes on him and then look back towards the bright light from the windows. You realize the window is open and there’s a light breeze coming in.
“Don’t bother screaming Maus, I live in the country. Just you and me for miles.”
You don’t look back at him, just let those words sink in and look out of the window.
“Welcome home, I’ll show you around soon. It’s a nice place to raise a family.”
Your head snaps in his direction, “A family?”
“Ja, Maus. A family. You’ll make me beautiful babies. Plus men will pay extra for your pregnant body.”
König rubs his hand along your abdomen and smirks.
Meanwhile, police have made their way to the truck stop you were seen at. They talk to the woman that was working the cash register that day.
“They came in, both went to the bathroom, and then next thing I knew she was running and he chased after her. When they came in they looked like maybe boyfriend and girlfriend? They were close.”
“Okay, are there any surveillance cameras I can look at?”
“I’ll have to get my boss.”
“You do that.” The cop puts away his notepad and looks around the store before the boss walks out.
“Right this way, officers.”
You don’t even know how much time has passed and there has been no sign of help. You remain inside of König’s home. Your stomach is growing, swollen with his child. An old medic friend from his military days comes to the house to check on you and the baby, König tries his best to take good care of you.
It’s a warm day and you stand outside in a green summer dress, 6 months pregnant. You’re kneeling in the flower bed and pulling weeds. You stand and begin to walk to the water hose, and then your chain pulls.
König has a metal shackle around your ankle, bolted to the house so you can’t run off. He hears the chain pull as he is behind the house trimming back bushes.
“Need something, Liebling?” He walks over to you wearing jeans and a black shirt, both covered in small green specks from the bush leaves.
“The hose,” You point only a few feet away from you.
He walks over and grabs it for you, “Don’t stress yourself out, you still have to film today.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
König leans in and puckers his thin lips waiting for you to kiss him. You tiptoe to meet him the rest of the way and kiss his lips. He smiles at you before slapping your ass and walking back to what he was doing.
You water the garden, feeling your baby move within you. Resting a hand on your stomach, you begin to caress your belly. You let out a deep sigh and look around, trying to imagine giving birth to your baby here and raising your child here. König as a father…how will that work? Will I eventually fall in love?
“Liebling, are you okay?” König walks up behind you, wrapping one arm around you resting on your stomach as the other takes the water hose from you. “You’re drowning the flowers.” His voice has a light chuckle.
“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about giving birth. Being a mom. I’m scared.”
König drops the hose and wraps his arms around you.
“Don’t be scared. I knew from the moment I saw you that you’d make an amazing mom. Don’t stress you and our baby out, okay? I’ll run to the city tomorrow and get you whatever you’re craving.”
You nod your head, “Thank you König.”
“Of course, now let’s go film, ja?”
Filming was your least favorite thing to do, but it’s how König makes enough money to stay home with you, so you do it. He takes out a key and unlocks the cuff on your ankle. His arm goes around your body tightly so you can’t run away if you try.
Walking back inside, he brings you into the bedroom. “Shouldn’t I shower first?”
“Nein, the sweaty look is hot.” He kisses your forehead.
You sit on the bed as he sets everything up, placing the cameras where they need to be and making sure the lighting in the room is good. Once done he strips down to nothing, his cock soft but still 6 inches. He begins to record on all cameras and walks up to you on the bed.
He gets behind you and begins to massage your swollen breasts. You’ve already started to fill up in preparation for the baby, growing two bra sizes. König does everything he can to stimulate more lactation. He begins to squeeze your breast, forming a small wet patch on your dress. You look away embarrassed, he laughs. He squeezes more, letting the wet patches continue to grow, his erect cock rubbing against your back now.
“Let’s take this dress off Liebling.” He whispers as he helps you stand.
Once standing he slowly takes off your dress, his hand gliding over your pregnant belly. His lips kiss your neck tenderly as he makes his way down to your breast. Squeezing, he squirts a small amount of milk on his face before wrapping his mouth around your breast and suckling, drinking in any milk he can squeeze out of you. You let out soft moans as he licks your nipple before sucking again.
“Your milk is so sweet.” He growls as he seats up on the bed.
Again, he goes behind you and begins to squeeze your breasts for the cameras. Make sure to get good squirts of your milk, rubbing some of the milk all over your breast to make them shine. His head resting on your shoulder watching as he does this. Turning his head he begins to kiss the side of your face and you turn your head to meet his mouth and kiss him back.
He lets out a soft moan as he gently cups your breasts in his large hands. His tongue pushing into your mouth and twirling around, mixing your spit with his. Pulling away from the kiss a line of spit follows.
“Lay back Maus.”
You do as he says and lay back flat on the bed. He comes up and caresses your large stomach, leaving a trail of kisses up to your lips again as he positions himself between your legs. He reaches over and grabs one of the cameras and holds it angles at your pussy. He slaps his heavy cock over your tiny clit, causing you to mewl and move your hips. Disgusted with yourself because you actually want his cock.
“Beg for it.”
“Please fuck me.”
“Be more specific, Liebling.” He slaps your clit with his cock again.
“Please give me your cock. Please.”
“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.” He begins to slip his cock into you.
You moan out and grasp the bed sheets as you feel his cock push in all the way. His hand pulls one of your legs back, making sure to leave room for your big belly. He holds the camera up to your face and you make sure to act as if you don’t want to be recorded; he said the men like it more when I act like I hate it.
“Moan for me.” He taps your face.
You let out a tiny soft moan while suppressing the enjoyment that you’re feeling. He puts the camera down to rest his hands on your belly as he begins to buck his hips more rapidly into you. It hurts so you genuinely moan in pain and try to scoot back.
“Don’t run for it.” He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him.
“It hurts!” you moan out as you squirm.
König lets go of your hips and leans forward, holding your shoulders, and he begins to fuck you so hard you begin to scream.
“Ja! Scream for me! Hure!” He lightly slaps you but you act like it was worse.
Recording takes hours to complete. König helped you get all cleaned up after and chained you to the bed again, the chain is long enough for you to walk around the room, but bolted to where you can’t get to the door or window.
“I’m going into the city to get you food and treats, what are you craving?”
You shrug and think for a few seconds, “Maybe something cakey? Also, just some stuff to make brownies or cakes to have around the house.”
“I can do that.” He leans down and kisses you gently.
“I love you both, I’ll be back.” He caresses your stomach.
“We love you too…” you watch him leave the house.
Once you hear the car door close you rush to the drawers trying to look for something that you can use to break free from the shackles. As usual, there was nothing. You sit on the bed and cry, hugging your stomach.
“I’m sorry baby, I don’t know what to do.” You whisper to your stomach. You feel torn between wanting to run towards freedom and wanting to stay here with König. A weird part of you beginning to feel for him, but also wanting your old life back. You can’t even recognize yourself anymore.
In the city König goes into a local grocery store. He collects everything you asked for plus just thing for the house. He finds a baby onesie that says “I love Daddy.” König holds the tiny little piece of clothing in his hands, smiling thinking about holding his baby in his arms. He adds the onesie to the cart.
He walks up to the front of the store and begins to bag his items as the older woman working the register scans his items. He looks around the store as he waits for his payment to process and he sees a board of posters.
“Here’s your receipt.”
König’s attention turns back to the nice woman. He smiles and grabs the piece of paper from her, grabbing all of his bags and walking to the poster board.
In big red words he reads the words MISSING. König stays there and reads the details. His heart sinks.
Young woman, your skin tone, hair color, body build. His semi-truck color, build, hair color. The fact you’re foreign and what language you speak is even listed. He can feel his cheeks turn red as he begins to sweat. He reaches up and rips the sign off the board and turns to leave the store.
He sits in his SUV and looks at the poster. He wonders how many there are and how much information the cops actually know.
“FUCK!” He yells in his SUV and he runs his hands down his face. He takes a deep breath before pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to speed home to you.
#tw: noncon#please read the warnings#konig#konig x reader#konig x y/n#könig#konig cod#könig x reader#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#könig x reader smut#smut#cod smut#konig x reader smut#konig x you#könig x you#trucker!könig#trucker!konig#cod konig#könig call of duty
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drabble: 8:39pm
Choi San, the man he is, he sends shivers down your spine whenever he looks at you with that icy look yet his palms feel so warm against the exposed skin of your short ruffle dress. It was a hue of baby pink with a small bow on the back of the dress, then he let you wear a school style pump and styled your hair in half updo with a white bow that matches the one on the back of your dress.
You walk down the staircase of his penthouse whilst he was on a phone call with Wooyoung— his right hand. One arm draped on the back of the couch and his legs creating a form of ‘4’ figure as his foot juddered impatiently. You walk towards him with your hands in front of your dress. His free hand motioned you to stop and you immediately obliged, you halted just a few feet away from him.
“Okay that is noted Woo, I’ll call you back.” He tosses his phone to the side, like literally throwing it away, before unbuttoning one button of his suit. Underneath his suit was just his bare chest and a gold chain hanging loosely, his tongue poke on his cheeks before scoffing, “If it weren’t for Woo’s report that I need to do a meeting, I would have you bend over this carpet and destroy you right now.”
Your cheeks flared with his direct and bold statement yet it made you squirm under his gaze. You were his favorite doll, one of the best collections he took when he did a raid not a few months ago to his enemies. A porcelain doll that is out of reach, a perfect display yet only limited could access the beauty you hold.
You were his favorite doll, his dolled up wife.
“Come here doll.” He leans back, patting his thighs. You know what he wants, you walk towards him before throwing your legs each on the side of his thighs, “I thought you had a meeting with the boys?” Soft and quiet voice always turns him on as whenever he ravages himself inside you, your little whimpers and cries always send him cumming inside you. And the way you mewl on the overstimulation after hours of him eating you out? He would be balls deep, his tip nudging your cervix and would stay like that overnight and when the morning comes, he would have you on your knees, ass up as he drills you on the mattress.
You enjoy them. You enjoy his fingers curling inside or the way it goes on a ‘come here’ motion with his middle and ring finger. You enjoy his girth and length nudging each of your walls that you see stars, toe curled in ecstasy as you cum—squirt on his cock, wetting not only him but the bed and he loves it whenever you try to pull away from him for wanting more, to see your pussy pulsing and gushes of translucent liquid squirting out of your pussy as he slap it before making out with it.
“Hmm~ does my lovely wife want me gone? Who’s gonna take care of you? Who’s gonna take care of this wetness right here?” His hand went around your figure and lift up the dress, exposing your silk cotton underwear, a wet patch already evident on how your thoughts were all over him. Fuck you on the carpet, ass up as he bottoms out—fully clothed on.
“N-No I do not wish for you to be late for your meeting.” San chuckles, running his fingers down your clit while the other on your hair, looking at you with both admiration and lust. “Wifey … they don’t care if I’m late or not.”
He leans closer, lips hovering yours. Your breath hitch as his eyes look on your left eye, right eye, down to your lips then back up on your eyes, “So be a good wife, on your knees and our color is ‘grey’.”
#ateez#ateez choi san#choi san#choi san imagines#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez smut#ateez hard hours#ateez hard thoughts#choi san smut#choi san x reader#san ateez#ateez fanfic#kpop smut
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Jesper: Free my man. He did all of it but I don’t care
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Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 1
Read this fic on AO3 (Link)
Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.
…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.
Chapter Summary: Tav gets kidnapped and is surprisingly calm about her new predicament. She spends her first night in the devil’s bed. Raphael is a pain in the ass to share a bed with.
(AN: A pretty self-indulgent fic that I am working on. It is a lot more light-hearted than what I have previously written. The plot also gives me an opportunity to explore a more private and less performative Raphael. There will be more chapters.)
Warning: NSFW
It was a couple of weeks after the defeat of the elderbrain. Tav had been out drinking with a few of her companions. She had gotten very drunk and at some point during the evening she had gotten lost from the rest.
A handsome young tiefling man had approached her and bought her drinks. He had red skin, yellow glowing eyes, and a disarming smile.
They talked for a couple of hours. He claimed to be a wizard like her. She should have known something was up when he seemed to be very unknowledgeable about even simple spells, but what could she say? The man was charming, and the alcohol made it hard for her to care about him potentially lying just to get her into bed.
When they got to his place, she was half-way out of her clothes when something hit her head.
Everything went black.
When she woke up, she heard the faint sound of something...jingling? She felt a sharp poke to her ribs. She grumbled quietly, still not entirely awake. She received another poke to her ribs. She whined and mumbled in response. Then there was a full force kick that squeezed the air out of her and made her turn to her side.
She held onto the boot that had kicked her and opened her eyes. Black boots that went into a tip at the toes. She knew where she had seen those silly jingly boots before. She looked up. Familiar orange eyes looked down on her. He was in his cambion form.
“Oh shit,” she mumbled.
“Indeed,” Raphael said in a dangerously low tone.
Tav had signed his contract back then and used the Orphic Hammer to free Orpheus. She did intend to give the Crown of Karsus to Raphael, but her companions made her change her mind. The Crown of Karsus ended up in Mystra’s hands instead, in order to cure Gale of his orb.
“Thank you for bringing her here, Cassius,” Raphael said to someone else while his eyes were still locked on her. “Now leave us.”
Tav looked behind Raphael to see the young tiefling man that she had gone home with. So, he was a warlock… It suddenly made all the sense in the world why he did not know his ass from his elbow when it came to wizardry. The warlock smiled at her as he left them. Tav’s eyes narrowed at him.
“Ugh…” she groaned and looked up at Raphael. “He’s one of yours? You couldn’t have sent Korrilla or something?”
“You know Korrilla’s face, little mouse,” Raphael sighed. “You may not be the brightest person I have ever crossed, but I don’t expect you to be so dull that you would walk into my trap willingly…Then again, nothing would surprise me with you.”
Trap? Why couldn’t he just whisk her away like he did that first time they met if he wanted her there? Tav’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand. She lifted her head to look down her body. She wasn’t wearing a shirt. That was going to have to be a concern for a later time, because she noticed that she was wearing something around her wrists. They were tight metal cuffs with infernal letters inscribed in them.
Her brain was not her friend between the high levels of alcohol still in her blood and the fact that she had been hit on her head with a blunt object. She held the cuffs up to her face and studied them with all the concentration she could muster. She had seen something like these cuffs before…
“Help me out here…” she said and looked up at Raphael.
“They are constructs like those that held Prince Orpheus,” Raphael explained. “I’m aware that your mental capabilities leave something to be desired at the moment, so I will gladly explain it to you in simple terms: You won’t leave this house with those on, and you won’t get them off without the Orphic Hammer.”
“Is that what all this is about?” she sighed. “You could have just asked for it back. The damned thing has just been collecting dust at my house anyway.”
“No, Tav,” Raphael said in a darker tone. “This is about punishment. We had a deal, and you broke it. You snooped through my house, took things that did not belong to you, killed my incubus…I allowed it because I thought you still had the sense to go through with what we agreed upon.”
She winced. It had been a stupid decision to go to his house and one that did not even pay off. When Gale had been offered Mystra’s help, they went to the House of Hope to gauge their options. Everything seemed so tightly secured and locked down that they decided not to risk it in the end.
“Listen, I’m sorry about Haarlep…” she said.
“Don’t be,” Raphael replied smoothly. “I have half a mind to make you his replacement until your dear little friends bring me my hammer back…Then, I will make you watch as your friends die a cruel and slow death. After, I will take what is now rightfully mine: your soul.”
Well…fuck.
This wasn’t good. Her friends would without a doubt come to her rescue if Raphael told them that she was held captive in his home. She needed to keep them away and bide her time until she could figure out a solution.
“Say that they don’t come,” She said. “What then?”
“They will,” Raphael said. “You will be treated well until then since I need you alive and in one piece to lure them here. You will be granted free roam of the house, three meals a day, and a soft bed to sleep in. Consider yourself prized livestock that gets pampered in its final days before being sent to slaughter. Not that you deserve it…”
She took a deep breath. She had to somehow contact her friends and ask them to stay away. Then, she would have to find a way out of those damned cuffs so she could return home. How in the Hells she would manage to do that without the Orphic Hammer, she did not know, but it was not an option to gamble with her friends’ lives in order to bring it to her.
Tav had always found a way to be calm and relaxed, even in the worst of situations. She already had half a plan in her mind. All she needed was a moment of privacy to use a sending spell to alert her friends.
Raphael extended a hand to her, to help her up and off the floor. She took it and was pulled to her feet. She winced and held a hand to her head once the blood rushed to her injury from the blunt object hitting her.
“Come,” Raphael said and led her through the house.
They stepped through the barrier to the boudoir.
“I trust that you have already familiarized yourself with this room during your burglary, so I believe we can skip the tour,” Raphael said with no short amount of bitterness and then gestured to a wardrobe. “You will find clothes and essentials in there.”
Raphael turned around to face her. He looked her up and down. His gaze lingered at her bra and cleavage for just a second too long. Tav crossed her arms to cover herself.
“Bathe, rest, make yourself at home,” Raphael said with a smug smile.
Tav looked around the room and then at Raphael.
“Where will I sleep?” she asked.
Raphael’s smile widened and he gestured to his bed. Tav’s brow furrowed as her eyes went from him to the bed.
“Are you serious?” she asked.
“Deadly,” Raphael said calmly. “You killed my bed warmer. I believe it’s only fair that you take their place…Of course, I would never force you to do anything. If this little arrangement doesn’t suit you, I can have a cell in the dungeons cleared out for you. Its last visitor has been decomposing in there for a while now…”
“Alright, alright,” Tav said in defeat. “Fine. I get it…I won’t complain.”
“I thought not,” Raphael said smoothly. “I have business to attend to before retiring. Until then, Korrilla will be watching you.”
Tav sighed. She had hoped for a moment of alone time, but Raphael was not stupid. He was probably fully counting on her trying something, so he made sure to keep a close eye on her.
Korrilla entered the boudoir shortly after.
“Evening, boss,” Korrilla said with a smile, greeting Raphael before turning to Tav. “Tav.”
Tav smiled and waved casually at her. She had never minded Korrilla. After all, Tav did not know the circumstances of her pact, and she did not feel like judging her solely because her boss was a pain in the ass.
“Remember,” Raphael said addressing Korrilla. “Do not let her out of your sight.”
Korrilla nodded and Raphael gave Tav one last glance before leaving the boudoir.
Tav and Korrilla stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other. Tav was trying to figure out how she could divert Korrilla’s attention away from her.
“I think I’m going to take a bath,” Tav said casually and moved towards the restoration pool.
“Good idea,” Korrilla said, already following her. “I have to say, you look a mess. Cassius really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
“Yes. Surely, he could have used a spell to knock me out instead. Not too bright, is he?” Tav said and started slowly taking off her clothes, waiting for Korrilla to give her a moment of privacy. “He’s new, I presume?”
Korrilla seated herself on the other side of the pool, so she had a clear view of Tav.
“Correct,” Korrilla answered.
“'Correct' to which statement?” Tav asked with chuckle. “That he is not too bright, or that he is new?”
“He is new,” Korrilla said with a smile that signaled to Tav that she did not disagree with the other statement either.
Tav pulled off her pants, leaving her in her underwear. Korrilla was still watching her.
“Are you seriously going to keep staring at me while I bathe?” Tav asked.
“Oh, don’t be shy,” Korrilla said and gestured for her to continue taking off her clothes. “I promise you that no matter what, I have seen far worse within this room.”
Tav sighed quietly. She reluctantly took off the rest of her clothes and slipped into the warm water of the pool. She felt relief as the water instantly healed her head-injury and took the edge off her hangover. Tav leaned her head back on the pool’s edge and closed her eyes for a moment.
After a long bath, Tav dried herself off and wrapped herself in a towel. She walked to the wardrobe with Korrilla at her heels. She opened it and sifted through the clothes.
There was a bit of everything: dresses, shirts, pants…Tav looked at some of the underwear. She pulled out a strappy leather bra with matching panties and showed them to Korrilla.
“Is he serious?” Tav asked with a deadpan expression.
“Leftovers from Haarlep, if I should guess,” Korrilla said.
Made sense. Tav looked after any type of nightclothes. Most of it was very revealing, but she managed to find a long silk night-gown. It was still suggestive, but it was her best option out of the bunch. The neckline was quite revealing, but at least it covered more of her body than the other negligees she found.
“This will have to do,” Tav sighed and put it on.
Tav crawled into bed after. It might have been the most comfortable bed she had ever laid in. The mattress was neither too soft nor too firm, and the sheets were silk. She felt sleepy moments after she had laid down. Korrilla was watching her from a chair.
“You’re not sleepy?” Tav asked and looked at her. Was there even a small chance that Korrilla would fall asleep so that Tav had the chance to send message to her friends, she would fight her sleepiness and stay awake.
“I’m not going to cuddle with you, if that is what you are asking,” Korrilla answered, looking wide awake. “I don’t sleep on the job.”
“Oh, you flirt. Not what I meant. I was just asking,” Tav mumbled with a sigh. Her sleepiness won against her determination. She gave up on her hope to reach her friends that night and decided to try the day after as she drifted to sleep.
She stirred from her sleep when she heard Korrilla leave, and Raphael enter. She yawned quietly. She made sure her night-gown was adjusted so it covered as much as possible before closing her eyes again. She felt a dip in the mattress as Raphael laid down behind her.
She gave a surprised yelp as Raphael grabbed around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her back was up against his chest, his arm held around her tightly, and he settled his chin on the top of her head. He placed his leg over hers, effectively making sure that she could not move during the night.
This was without a doubt the closest she had ever been to Raphael. His skin was unnaturally warm, like that of a person with a high fever. She knew that protesting would not get her anywhere, because there most likely was a reason as to why he held her like that: to make sure that she would not try anything during the night.
She tried making herself comfortable despite the restrictions to her movements. Raphael’s grip tightened slightly in response.
“Lie still,” he grumbled.
Tav felt the deep rumble of his voice through his chest, and she would have been lying if she said that it did not do things to her.
“You’re a really uncomfortable big spoon, do you know that?” she complained and squirmed again. “I’m just trying to make myself comfortable.”
She felt something through the fabric of her nightgown as she adjusted her position in his arms. It made her freeze for a moment.
“Are you naked?” she asked in disbelief.
“Mm,” he affirmed tiredly. “Sleep, mouse.”
“I can’t persuade you to put on some clothes?”
“You are very demanding for a woman in your position,” Raphael said. “No. I will sleep in my own bed as I please.”
She sighed and adjusted herself one last time before closing her eyes.
Sleeping in the arms of a devil was pure hell for a multitude of reasons. Tav had never sweated so much in her life.
With difficulty, Tav rolled over to her other side since her back was literally soaked with sweat. Raphael’s grip was so tight around her that she was almost forced to lean her head against his chest as she faced him. She refused to do so and leaned her head back and away from him. The awkward position made her snore softly in her sleep. She was rudely woken during the night by his tail hitting her thigh, as a hint for her to stop snoring.
She was rudely woken yet again, when he suddenly snaked his arm under her to grab her and move her with him like a ragdoll as he rolled over to his other side.
In the early morning, Tav opened her eyes as she felt something press up against her behind. She could hear on his breathing that he was still at least somewhat asleep.
He was rock-hard and his, what felt like, impressive size was resting against her ass.
He rolled his hips against her and groaned softly.
The arm that had been holding her tightly, moved down to her hip to push her back against him. Another soft groan.
Tav’s eyes widened, and she was suddenly very awake.
She was careful not to move, but she did feel a tinge of growing arousal despite herself.
He pushed her back against him once again and groaned slightly louder. It was followed by a sharp inhale and a stir, as he woke up entirely.
A few moments later he got up and off the bed.
Tav squeezed her eyes shut. They had both knew what just happened. Should she say something? Should she pretend that she was asleep the entire time? Pretend she was dead? The last option was honestly tempting but she decided to try her luck with option two.
She listened to his movements. After a short while, it got quiet. She waited a few moments to be sure that he had left, before opening her eyes.
This could be her opportunity to reach her friends.
She sat up quickly and looked around the boudoir. Her eyes fell on the young tiefling warlock who must have entered without her hearing a thing. He was sitting in the chair that Korrilla had sat in the day before.
“Morning,” Cassius said with a smile.
Tav groaned in frustration and slid back into bed.
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cubscarian cuddling? maybaps? or maybe a tango of the tek variety…… hotguy in general would be fun :3 or cuteguy’s outfit!
There was a careful balance to strike here at the edge of Cub’s bed. Cub and Scar were sound asleep, reasonable given the time, and Grian was eager to join them in his own deliriously tired state, but these things required tact. Strategy. Scar did not wake easily, but if Grian did happen to rouse him by accident, he would surely be smothered in those godforsaken arms for the foreseeable future. Grian was quite cold from the night chill, but he’d rather not be flattened in his pursuit of warmth. Despite this, Scar was Grian’s favorite furnace, and if he could manage to finagle himself into the curve of Scar’s chest without the carelessness of those wing-crushing arms..
Even in the dead of night, half asleep, Grian was nothing if not a betting man.
So Grian hopped up onto the backboard settling into the marks his talons had left from hundreds of instances of this exact movement. Hm. Cub might be a problem. He and Scar were cuddled just a little closer than Grian had initially thought, but it wasn’t like they were locked together or anything, there was room.
Hands and feet curled inwards so he didn’t poke holes in the blankets, Grian crept forward on his knuckles. The path was clear; Scar didn’t wear his legs to bed, obviously, so the free space was Grian’s way in, though the major obstacle of Scar’s arm draped over Cub’s side was still a present threat. Grian could just move it of course; it definitely wouldn’t wake Scar up and would be much easier to slot himself between the two of them, but something in Grian wanted it there, over him, keeping him securely buried on all sides. Grian squinted, giving the narrow space between Scar and Cub another scrutinizing look. It would be a tight squeeze. Tighter with Scar’s arm in the way..
He could make it. Just get his shoulders through. The rest would come easy.
Getting his shoulders through was more difficult than anticipated. Grian found himself pushing at an opening that just wouldn’t budge, Scar keeping a firmer hold now that Grian was trying to rift himself between him and Cub while the latter groaned. Had Grian mentioned Cub was a considerably lighter sleeper? This was fine. Asleep Scar was just stubborn, and with a little more force Grian would surely slide right through. Just a little more force. A little more oomph. In his single minded focus on this goal, Grian failed to realize he was flapping his wings until he hit both of his partners in the face at least twice.
Well! At least that got Cub to move!
“Grian.” Cub hissed, just about unhappy sounding as it gets, but Grian was too pleased with getting right where he wanted to care, only to feel Cub’s absence with great sadness moments later. He was still so cold.
“Come back,” Grian whispered, failing just a little at the being quiet part.
“No.”
“Please?”
“Bad man. Greedy. Sharp. Bad.”
“I am not-“ Even when Grian sensed the first shifting of Scar’s body behind him, it was too late. Scar’s arms punched the life right out of him as they latched around his stomach, leaving Grian flailing and wheezing for air. His wingbeats were hard enough to properly wake Scar up, the other yelping and falling out of bed, though, not without taking the entire top blanket with him. Grian just managed to hold on to the bed frame, wiggling from Scar’s grasp not a moment too soon, but didn’t get to balance before Cub’s foot connected with his chest, pushing him right over the edge.
“Banished. Both of you. Be gone. Goodnight.”
“Why am I banished!” Scar wailed, voice hoarse from sleep. “This was all Grian! I’m innocent!”
“You are innocent.” Cub conceded, muffled as he spoke into the pillow, “But I’m really hot and you can not control yourself.”
“What I do in my sleep is not my fault! You should consider being less holdable if you don’t want me attached at the hip!”
“Perhaps,” Cub mused, “But it is my bed. And my crimes are excused because I don’t care. Both of your future crimes will be met with violence, as will the crime of speaking, so choose wisely. Court dismissed. Goodnight.”
Grian and Scar exchanged a guilty look. There was plenty to fight over here, Scar having far more to complain about (not that this would stop Grian), but they’d been down that road, and it ended with both of them being locked out of Cub’s room.
Well. With Cub settled on the opposite edge of the bed, there was space. If they played their cards right..
Grian took his place on the backboard, keeping a careful eye on Cub as Scar tested the waters, not unlike a cat the way he pushed one hand, then two into the mattress. The dip did not seem to disturb Cub, who probably would have given the two of them a sharp glare by now if he was actually pissed off. Nope. He was probably just hot like he’d said, and this was the easiest way to communicate it. Grian didn’t really mind, and even if Scar hadn’t been asleep before, Grian doubted he minded either. If it hadn’t gone this way, Cub probably would have just kicked Scar until he woke up or rolled off anyway.
Grian took Scar’s hands, pulling him up with great care, like any disturbance of the bed would end with both of them back on the floor. Listen, it had already been established by now this wasn’t a danger, but sue a guy for imagining a little forbidden fun! Grian saw the glint of Scar’s smirk through the darkness, mirroring his internal sentiment. After Scar was settled in the most gentle of fashions, Grian hopped off the bed to crack the window, then retreated back to Scar’s arms, safer from the incoming chill.
“You’re cold,” he mumbled, just loud enough for Grian to hear.
“S’alright,” Grian replied, though the words might not have left his lips coherent enough to be heard. No worries. He wouldn’t be very cold for long.
(I was actually going to do more or all of what you requested and then this turned out to be. Bigger. Because I can’t help myself. Anyway!)
#hermitcraft#hermitfic#gtws#goodtimeswithscar#cubfan#cubfan135#grian#hermitshipping#cubscarian#convexian
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Stormy Weather
Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; angst/comfort/fluff
Trigger Warnings: major domestic issues, trauma response, things are resolved but hard, language
A/N: Hey my loves! So this one is… pretty hard core for me? I rarely write angst but this one has been on my mind for a bit. This does get pretty aggressive but I needed to process my own experiences with DV and relationship issues. This story isn’t meant to glorify or make light of DV, but rather it’s a way for me to process my fears about my future relationships after my bad one. I hope this made sense, and maybe someone could find some catharsis in this like I did. Love you all to bits and pieces, I’m trying to get to my inbox!! As always, feel free to send me prompts or requests. Love you all 💕- Mo
It had been tense recently in the Solomons house. The new men in the bakery were just above incompetent despite Shelby assurance. American prohibition put another twist in the binds. And the recent weather had done nothing to aid Alfie’s sciatica. Through no fault of your own, and despite your best efforts, Alfie was knee deep in angry old man territory.
Though that wasn’t something that put you off. Women are not so easily turned by nasty weather, for better or worse.
You weren’t naive to the tempest of your husband. The beauty of his heart and his mind had to paid for by torrential rains once a season. His roar never came to your quiet garden, though you were acquainted with his rumbles and thunder. But you knew how to temper it. You knew what brought him through it into the clear.
You hummed to the radio in the corner, settling your finishing touches to a soothing evening with your beast of a husband. Brisket was just pulled out, with carrots and potatoes buttery and tender. You had washed the sheets and blankets, pressed them with dried lavender and eucalyptus oil. Lamps were turned low, and the fire was a soothing crackle, the entire parlor a syrup sweet orange glow. Water was hot for a bath for two, and everything was set for a soft warm evening.
As you pour out your first glass of wine, you hear the front oak door swing open, and slam shut shaking the walls. Light on your feet you flew to the front, opening your arms as a harbor. “Alfie darling, get your coat off, I have dinner and wine all set for your already! Let’s get you warm!”
His eyes don’t even meet yours as he evades your soft arms.
You feel as though your body wilts. Completely crumbling under the weight of the dejection.
But maybe he didn’t see you! Maybe he just didn’t realize!! He works hard he probably just has to attend to something quickly.
Your bare feet flex against the frigid wood stairs, creaking under the weight of your trek. Your ears perked up to the rustling of the papers and slamming of drawers and rumble of his voice. Like a dragon arranging his lair.
You crack the heavy door, requiring all of your weight. Paper and ink were thrown around, drawers yanked crooked, and you see him take long swigs of the amber liquid in the crystal decanter. “Alfie? Darling you alright? Did something happen”
He does not even toss a glance, “nothing that concerns you. Close the door one your way out.”
The rolling thunder edges closer to the home, “Aren’t you going to come down and eat? I’ve made your favorite tonight.”
“Does it look like I care about dinner? I’m preoccupied at the moment and don’t need your yowling right now.”
A bright flash illuminates the room.
“Alfie I don’t know what’s wrong but you will not speak to me like this.”
“I’ll fucking speak to you how I fucking feel like! Now get the fuck out!”
The sky explodes. Shaking the paintings and photos on the walls. The mirror above the fireplace behind you shifts precariously. Your eyes shut but the sounds wash over you.
You don’t let the anger out of your chest very often. You pride yourself on keeping an even temper and offering a gentle hand in place of the rage. Especially when being with Alfie, your honeyed lips and temperament is what makes you the queen of Camden. There’s been so few people who have seen your rage, much less deserved to receive it.
“Get the fuck out you said?”
A slight chill runs down Alfie’s spine. “Yeah. Yeah I said get the fuck out. You deaf now?”
Another flash.
“Ok.”
Alfie hardly blinks before he suddenly sees glass hurdling towards his face. He just barely ducks before it shatters against the wall behind him.
“What the fuck!” He roars and thrashes.
To his shock, you pick up the glasses on his bar cart, throwing them with all your might at his head, one by one, with deadly aim.
“Get the fuck out eh Alfie! Get the fuck out!! I’ll get the fuck out! Maybe I’ll take you fucking with me!”
You make your way to the Faberge eggs on the shelf.
“Don’t you fucking dare sweetheart! There will be hell to pay if you touch those fucking eggs!”
“Oh we are well past that Alfie. You tell me to get the fuck out? I’m taking your fucking stuff!”
Three perfectly beautiful eggs are slammed against the fire with your husband roaring and punching the wall, “Enough damnit! Get the fuck out of my office! Get to the fucking room you fucking lunatic! I’ll lock you in the bedroom if you keep this up!”
“Oh I’d like to see you try! You call yourself a man! King of Camden! King of Camden so upset he curses out his woman! So mighty yet he can’t take care of his own home! You’re a fucking CHILD! A fraud!”
You grab at a cabinet and pull it down, slamming against the ground. The glass shattered. The tin type of your wedding surely shattered in the frame. In the moment of silence after the shatter, you don’t realize Alfie coming up behind you and lifting you in the air.
You scream and kick, trying to get away and out of his grasp. But he was immovable. A wall. All you hear was his grunts as you howled and cried. He wrenches the bedroom door open, throwing you onto your marriage bed. You scramble up the bed, reaching for the knife under your pillow.
Heaving breaths, Alfie puts his hands in surrender, “Treacle treacle please. Enough ok. No need to stick me. Let’s.. let’s talk.”
“You’ve already said anything you need to. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say you fucking-“
“Darling I was wrong. Ok. I shouldn’t have swore at you. Come on. Just… put it down. Let’s… let’s talk about this ok? Truce?”
You push the hair out of your eyes, wipe the tears off your face and put the knife on the night stand, far enough from either of you.
Alfie has never raised a hand towards you ever. He’d rather put the gun on himself than touch you. But old habits die hard.
You pull your feet under your night gown. Watching Alfie pull off his coat and shoes before sitting on the bed. The ancient frame creaking under his weight.
He reaches for your hand, but retracts when he sees your dark stare toward it. With a sigh he relents and decides to begin. It’s never good to be the starter of negotiations. “Darling. I am sorry for shouting at you. It wasn’t fair to you. The business doll… it does my head in. But. It doesn’t excuse shouting at you. Can you forgive me?”
You feel the heaviness slowly slipping away from your neck. You nod meekly, allowing your fingers to drift to his, weaving around his warm fingers.
Brushing the inside of your wrist, he continues, “Now darling. While I was in the wrong, you don’t normally start throwing shit around. Very unlike you it is. You want to explain what caused that? What’s going on in that pretty head?”
You shake your head no. It’s sitting on your tongue though it’s so bitter. You can’t bring yourself to spit out the poison.
“Oh come on darling. It’s just me. Nothing can put me off. You and me forever right?”
You nod, and reveal your feelings, even if it’s a slow trickle.
“I just… got so angry at you Alfie. I’ve been so lonely these past few months. You’ve been gone. Any time you say you’ll be home you’re not. I’m without you all the time. And when you are here, you’re not really. Your mind is still gone and I don’t have my husband. Just his body. And his words hurt me so much. And I thought, I thought tonight I could finally get you. I thought if I tried hard enough you would be happy and with me. Like we were. And then when I tried to help you and be your wife, you screamed at me. And it hurt me. So I wanted to hurt you and break things to make myself feel better. But it didn’t. It made me more angry and sad and…”
Your words were reduced to tears as your husband pulled you into his lap. Your tears soaked his neck and shirt, “Oh God Alfie I’m so sorry! That was wrong and I’m sorry! Alfie was please forgive me! I’ll never disturb you again! I’ll never throw anything ever again! Oh God Alfie can you forgive me!”
A gentle kiss to your forehead settles your fears, “Now my darling you know in your heart of hearts that we are bound for eternity. Nothing is taking us apart. Not even when we fight like demons. I’m yours and you’re mine. You and me… well we just need a little medicine yeah? Just need some help right now. You and me need to do a better job talking to each other and listening yeah?”
You can barely get words out as you nod. Cheeks hot and sticky. But it doesn’t stop Alfie from kissing your cheeks so tenderly. “My dove. My sweet dove. The business has been out of control but it’s finally settling down. I came home angry because of all the messes I’ve had to clean up. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on the one person I like. The one person I love. But it’s finally settled my pet.”
His thick hands tenderly touch your chin to bring your eyes to his, which are also wet with tears, “I promise to always tell you when I’m not doing ok. And if I can’t tell you then, I’ll make sure to tell you when I need a moment. You think you can promise your old man the same?”
“Yes… I promise.” You whisper
There is a slight twinkle that flies across his eyes, “Think you can seal it with a kiss?”
You throw yourself against him, and he catches you with a grunt. You hated to fight. You’d sooner walk into the ocean than be at odds with the love of your life. When you finally come up for air, Alfie whispers against your lips, “I’m staying home for the rest of the week. I’ll tell Ollie what he needs to do in the morning.”
Without moving a millimeter you say, “No you can’t darling. It’s your life I don’t want you to have to stay home if you can’t.”
“You’re my life treacle. Forever and all eternity you’re what matters. I’ve decided. I’m staying home. And come Saturday we go up to Margate.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I am that you’re the only woman for me.”
He kisses you sweetly, and you whimper as you let yourself be further embraced by him. Barely moving from your lips he whispers, “Why don’t you start a bath darling? I’ll grab tea from downstairs and join you soon.”
“I made dinner… it’s on the stove for you.”
“I’ll bring a plate for us. You just… get comfortable for me treacle. I think we need some time.”
For the rest of the night… and the rest of the week. You spent time talking and embracing, coming back together and healing what had been fraying at the edge. Though mistakes were made, and there were deep wrongs, you both wanted to fix it, to heal.
Neither of you were perfect. You never would be. But there was love there, and determination to get through the wounds that lead to these kinds of mistakes. These moments were not ok, and they stemmed from deep seated traumas that were undealt with. But you both wanted this marriage. You both wanted each other. And you both would work everyday to make it work.
With every word.
With every caress.
With every kiss.
Things would heal.
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons x y/n#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders
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Can you give sammy a cheese burger for me, he deserves it
He really does deserve it (he killed like 5 of his coworkers).
#free my man he did all of it but I don’t care#thank you for the ask anon !#and thank you for the cheeseburger :)#sammy lawrence#batim#batdr#bendy and the ink machine#bendy and the dark revival#ask response#berlingot’s asks
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Ruined!
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
#NOBODY SPEAK TO ME UNTIL I’VE HAD MY MORNING COFFEE#AND BY MORNING COFFEE I MEAN THIS MAN’S LOAD IN MY MOUTH#PREFERABLY FOLLOWED BY AN OLD FASHIONED#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you
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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren
eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.
thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.
your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.
eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”
you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”
eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”
don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.
but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you
“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.
eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”
it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.
you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.
after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”
with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.
in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?
when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.
with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.
eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”
#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐#plug!eren x reader#plug!eren#plug!eren x black reader#plug eren x black reader#plug eren x reader#plug eren#plug eren smut#eren jaeger x black reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger smut#plug!eren smut#aot x black reader#eren jaeger x chubby reader#eren x black reader#eren x chubby reader#aot x chubby reader
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Transfer proof- L. Norris
Lando Norris x Influencer reader!
In which a makeup brand sends you a lipstick that claims to be 100% transfer proof and you need your boyfriends help to put it to the test
Warnings?; making out, hints to sex/oral, can’t think of anymore
Part of my 1k celly :)
“Hi guys! Today we are trying this liquid lipstick from the Brand Lynn’s beauty! This liquid lip claims to be one hundred percent transfer proof, vegan, and cruelty free!” You started smiling at your phone that was being held up by your tripod.
“I am going to be wearing this throughout the day and putting it up to multiple different test.” You explained.
Opening up the lipstick you gave it the basic smell tests, before applying.
“There’s no fragrance which I like, and it’s a beautiful red color so I’m very interested to see if it’ll actually hold up to its high claims! You smiled.
“I’m going to be putting it up to a few test! One will be how it lasts while eating, the second will be with drinks, the third will be how pigmented it stays through the day, and the last is to see how it lasts with kissing.”
You give a small goodbye and stopped the recording for the clip to be later added into a whole video, and set off the find Lando for his help.
“Lan baby?” You called to the man as you entered the living room.
“Yeah?” He smiled at the sound of your voice.
“I need your help with a video” you asked giving your best puppy eyes.
“Nope, not again. You’re not staining my face with whatever crap you have this time” he denied at the flashbacks of the last time you had brought him in for help.
“But I promise you’ll like this one!” You tried but all he did was shoot you a pointed look.
“Don’t look at me like that! I’m being serious, it includes one of your favorite things” you smiled as you sat next to him.
“What is it?” He groaned dramatically.
“I need you to make out with me” you spoke
“You need me to make out with you?” He laughed gently.
“Yeah! And it’s not funny, I’m trying to test out a lipstick and I need to find out if it’s kiss proof.” You explained
“Oh baby, you should’ve just said that in the first place. I’ll never turn down getting to kiss you” he smiled as he sat all the way up and pulled you onto his lap.
His hands immediately slipping under his shirt you sported as you made yourself comfortable on top of him.
“Thank you” you smiled.
“Anytime baby” he softly replied before dipping down and pressing his lips against yours.
You two sat like that for a while, lips attacking each others while his hands ran from your hair down your body and yours ran through and tugged on his soft curls.
All was well until you could feel him beginning to grind his hips up and his hands move up your back in attempt to unclasp your bra.
“Lando!” You scolded as you pulled away from him.
“What?!” The boy laughed
“I asked you to kiss me, not fuck me” you depended.
“You’re literally on top of me kissing me like your life depends on it! What did you expect from me?” He whined as you once again smacked his hands away.
“To not be a horny little shit for once” you laughed as you got off of him, not caring to mention the lipstick that had in fact transferred and now covered his lips.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“To make lunch and test this lipstick out other ways” you called out behind you.
“But babyyy, I have plenty of other ways for you to try it out” he whined, getting up and following you to the kitchen.
“I’m not giving you head Lando!”
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#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris#formula 1#f1 fluff#f1 smut#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#jays1kcelly
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Change My Ways For You
Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader
Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with
Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good
Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one
A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!
“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing.
All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater.
“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”
You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.”
He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.
Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet.
Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.
You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student.
As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.
Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.
“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.
You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.
Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door.
“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting.
“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”
He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”
Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants.
He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.
“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.
The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming.
Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.
“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.
“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.
Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes.
“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.
She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”
He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!
The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself.
Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.
“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.
“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”
There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”
As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.
Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.
He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.
The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?
“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”
“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.
“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second.
Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.
So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.
Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.
You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull.
“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.
“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.
Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.
“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.
“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”
“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.
“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”
Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”
“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”
You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”
The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.
“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.
“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off.
“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.
Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”
The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.
Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”
How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.
“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was.
You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”
“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.
“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”
Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall.
He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.
You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.
Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.
You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.
Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed.
Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”
You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.
“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”
The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.
You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.
“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you.
He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes held so much emotion in them, even when you didn't let it show on your face. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout. The small belmishes on your face, the tiny imperfections, created the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom.
He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.
You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”
Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.
“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”
You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.
The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.
He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him.
Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.
As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.
“C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.
“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.
“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.
Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.
You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.
But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips.
You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”
Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.
Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”
Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”
You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.
“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.
You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can���t deny that your past scares me.”
“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.
“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.
“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”
That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.
“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”
Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face.
The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”
You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.
Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”
Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.
“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”
Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.
You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.
Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.
Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom.
He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock.
“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.
Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”
Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.
Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.
He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.
He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.
Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours.
Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.
Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.
“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.
You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.
At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”
As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”
You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”
Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.
“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.”
“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.
“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”
If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.”
“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”
“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.
“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.
Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.
“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet.
“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.
“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”
He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.
“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.
“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.
Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.
“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.
But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.
“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathing, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.
“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.
“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.
“What?”
“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly.
“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.
“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time.
“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.
You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you.
The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.
“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt.
“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.
“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.
“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you.
“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.
“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.
Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”
You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.
You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be.
The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.
His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.
Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”
Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”
Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”
You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”
You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”
He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.
“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”
Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak my sheets.”
He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.
His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out on his bed consumed by the pleasure he is giving you.
“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.
When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.
“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”
A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”
Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you.
Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.
Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.
“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.
A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight.
You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.
All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”
You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over his sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.
“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.
“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would.”
You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to his nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”
Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”
Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on his bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”
Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”
“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.
“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were.
Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.
“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.
“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.
“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.
Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.
You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.
“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.
“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.
“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.
You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”
That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”
He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words.
“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed to him new to him.
He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together.
The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.”
Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.
He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”
Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.
Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.”
In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber, groaning deep, almost whining your name.
He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.
Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up. You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the highs of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.
“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.
Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done.
The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself.
“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bite to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.
When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his sweats on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.
You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.
Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?
“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.
“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.
“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.
“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.
“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.
“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck.
“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”
You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”
Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes smut#bucky x you#bucky imagine#bucky smut#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#fuckboy!bucky#bucky x f!reader#bucky fluff
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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort
word count: 4.9k
summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.
warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)
a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it
a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕
Joel was never that into gambling.
Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy.
He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it.
Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way.
However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up.
One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs.
Liam folds.
A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants.
“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat.
Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.”
“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.”
Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak.
“You still have that pretty girlfriend?”
Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.”
“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins.
“Fuck you, Miller.”
“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.”
Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes.
“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.”
“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”
You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.”
That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?
“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.”
“You should’ve thought of that before.”
“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.”
“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?”
“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.”
“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.”
You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.
“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.”
“You can’t leave, where would you go?”
The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world.
And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes.
You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing.
Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color.
Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded.
The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate.
You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart.
You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything.
And it seemed like you were no exception.
Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners.
You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear.
“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.”
Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there.
And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam.
It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much.
And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self.
The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another.
You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel.
There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down.
“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.”
After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you.
“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.”
He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?”
“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.”
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow.
Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.”
“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.”
Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue.
He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?”
“God, yes.”
You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard.
Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.
He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most.
Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.
“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.”
Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion.
Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed.
“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?”
It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?”
“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.”
The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage.
“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue.
Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight.
After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin.
“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.”
He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?”
“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.”
You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”
Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely. “Don’t make me say it again.”
You sink to your knees immediately after that.
He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek.
You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks.
“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.”
You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.”
“Get on with it then.”
Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock.
“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth.
“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”
Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.
“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.”
As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass.
“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—”
His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses.
“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.”
Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts.
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.”
“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.”
“Is this pussy mine?”
“Yes, it’s fucking yours.”
Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning.
He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?”
“Yours! It’s fucking yours!”
Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking.
You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger.
“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?”
“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust.
“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words.
His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously.
“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?”
“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.”
His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.”
Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him.
With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.”
“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.”
Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!”
You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you.
“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!”
“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself.
“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.”
You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful.
You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone.
“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—”
Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out.
If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips.
“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls.
“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.”
“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss.
Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss.
“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?”
“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you.
Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm.
Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides.
Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together.
“I think he left, sweetheart.”
“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.”
Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone)
➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.)
➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries
➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this.
➸ WC: 2k
❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.
"Oh, yeah? What about?"
"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”
“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.
“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”
You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”
“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”
“I would.” More than he knows.
It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.
Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.
You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.
The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.
You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.
He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.
You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.
The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.
And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.
He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.
Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”
His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”
You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.
(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)
And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.
Of course, you take your job very seriously.
You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”
“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.
“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”
“The verdict, then?”
“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”
Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.
You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.
“You gonna treat me or what?”
Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.
The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.
Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.
“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”
But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”
You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.
You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?
But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.
“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.
He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.
After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.
Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.
And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.
“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.
Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#simon riley fluff#simon riley fic#cod x reader#cod fic#call of duty fic#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw x reader#cod mw fanfiction#cod mw 2
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Single mother with Simon as neighbour au? Yeaaah in love with them.
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic
Simon Riley/female reader
Simon hasn’t seen you in a few days.
He hasn’t seen you in the hall, or on the roof. Hasn’t seen you on your little balcony, like he did the other day when you were sitting on the little rickety metal chair, sipping a hot cup of something, too big sweater wrapped around your shoulders.
“Good morning.” You called to him, somehow keeping your voice light and soft, warm. He managed a response, serrated and off key, as he stubbed his cigarette out and slipped his mask from his pocket to his face.
He wonders if you’re alone. He never hears anyone else with you except little Emmaline, no man’s voice. No woman’s. He hears you, though. He hears you leave in the mornings, off to somewhere he’s not aware of. Hears you come home in the afternoons, your voice carrying down the hall while you talk to the baby, words muffled and tone light. Hears Emmaline, crying in the mornings and at night. Hears her screaming sometimes, angry about something, the raw pitch of her displeasure filtering through the paper-thin walls, her screeching and wailing probably loud enough to wake the entire floor. He hears you sing to her, just the lightest sounds of a muffled lullaby, coming from the room that’s opposite his bedroom, and he wonders if that’s where your bedroom is too.
He thinks about you being alone, doing everything by yourself, taking care of the baby, taking care of yourself. Who makes sure you’re okay? Who’s watching out for you?
He gets his answer, two days later, six hours before he’s slated to leave for the next op, when he stumbles upon you in the pouring rain, nearly in tears, Emmaline in a cloth wrap pressed to your chest, paper grocery bags in your arms, standing outside the building’s front door, one free hand frantically searching for what he automatically assumes must be your keys. As soon as he spots you, he increases his pace, legs stretching out in front of him and closing the distance between the three of you in record time.
“I know, I know.” He hears you trying to comfort her as he gets closer, your usual sweet voice edged in a frantic, viscous tone that has his fists clenching. “I’m here, baby. It’s okay.”
“Need some help?” He calls, and you turn with wide, nervous eyes. When you see him, when you realize it’s him, you relax, and blurt out hurriedly:
“Oh my god, do you have a key?” He pulls his own from his pocket, sliding it into the lock and then holds the door open, your body pressing against his when you brush by. “They usually don’t lock this door during the daytime.” He knows. He doesn’t tell you, but he had a strongly worded conversation with the building manager two days ago, when he came across the bloke in the lobby. He terrified the man, but he’s not sorry at all, and he feels certain that the front door will remain locked from now on. Leaving the bleedin’ front door unlocked, for anyone to walk in here. Not anymore.
“It should be locked.” He says flatly, and you purse your lips like you’re going to argue, setting down the grocery bags and then fidgeting with the wrap that has Emmaline sitting snugly against your chest.
“Shhh. I know, I know. You don’t like the rain.” He eyes you curiously, watching you unwrap the long pieces of linen slowly. He’s never seen that before, never seen someone carry a baby around like that, Beth always…
Beth. His skin slicks cool with sweat when the thought rips across his mind, old, buried memories gnawing at where he’s put them away, where’s he’s kept them hidden. Beth. Joseph. Tommy. Tommy holding his son, Joseph as a baby, little boy with blonde curls and happy smile, Tommy and his mom-
“Simon?” you say his name softly, tilting your head, and he blinks, snapping his focus back to the present, back to the now, with you, with Emmaline. “You okay?”
“Yeah, alright.” He points to the brown bags. “Need a hand?” He offers, and you reward it with a gracious smile that shines like a bright light that he can’t look away from. Fucking hell.
#peaches writes#light on#simon riley x female reader#Simon Riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader
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When Eddie comes out to him, Steve makes a big mistake. His first reaction was to thank him for trusting him, which is what Robin told him to do in this situation.
But his second reaction was to say “I also like guys.”
Eddie blinked at him, clearly confused and defensive, like maybe Steve was making fun or not taking him seriously.
“Uh. You do?”
“Yeah man! I mean, no one else knows, but yeah.”
Eddie smiled and thanked him for trusting him with it, said they should hang out more, and recommended a queer bar in Indy if he needed a safe place to explore.
And Steve smiled and nodded like he couldn’t agree more.
As soon as Eddie was gone, he rushed to the phone in his kitchen and called Robin.
She called him an idiot, a dingus, a bisexual disaster —whatever that was—, and told him he absolutely wasn’t allowed to go to a queer bar without her.
She did at least agree to keep up the lie until he could find a way out of it without Eddie thinking he lied to hurt him or something.
But he started hanging out a lot more with Eddie and finding that they had more in common than he originally thought.
Eddie took Robin and Steve to the queer club and Steve…felt at home, felt welcomed, felt like he belonged. Robin kept giving him these looks all night, and Eddie kept dragging him to meet people who he cared about, and one of the guys on the dance floor kept pulling him out there to dance with him.
He felt free and alive and-
Queer.
It hit him as the guy, Paul maybe, was pulling him closer by his waist as his hips rocked to the beat of a song he didn’t recognize but felt like something he wanted on a mixtape. It hit him that he liked this because he liked dancing with Paul like this. He liked this because he saw himself visiting more, even without Eddie and Robin. He liked this because he could picture making out with Eddie in the bathroom.
He froze.
“You okay, sweet thing?” Paul asked him.
“I think I’m in love with my friend.”
Paul’s eyes widened momentarily before patting Steve’s hip. “Is he gay, honey?”
“Huh?” Steve was already trying to find Eddie in the crowd. “Oh, yeah. He’s here tonight.”
“Shouldn’t you be dancin’ with him then?”
Steve finally looked back at Paul, who had his hands on his own hips now, teasing smile on his face.
“Yeah. I should,” Steve thanked him, apologized for any misleading, which was immediately brushed off. Paul was here to dance, he didn’t much care for who he was dancing with.
“Send that beauty over here. She looks like she needs some lessons,” Paul pointed to Robin, who was still looking a little nervous despite the friendly bartender handing her sodas every time he passed by her.
“She’s gay, man.”
“So am I! Doesn’t mean we can’t dance!”
Steve laughed. “You’re right.”
He walked over to Robin quickly, avoided getting pulled back into the crowd.
“I’m in love with Eddie.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “I know, dingus. You literally risked your entire reputation to come to a queer bar to try to impress him.”
Steve balked. “That’s not what this was!”
“Uh huh. Well he’s sulking in the bathroom if you wanna go tell him.”
“Sulking? Why?”
“He saw you dancing with that guy. Think he assumed you were interested in him.”
“Not a chance. I prefer long hair and ripped jeans,” Steve winked. He turned to walk towards the hall with the bathrooms when Robin stopped him.
“Don’t do this if you’re not 100% sure,” she said seriously. “Eddie really likes you and it would destroy him if you were lying to make him feel better.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve started, but stopped when Robin gave him a look.
“You’ve literally been pretending to be queer for the last two months because he came out to you and you accidentally came out to him. You’re lucky it wasn’t a complete lie.”
“Yeah but I wouldn’t fuck with his feelings like that.” Steve knew what it was like to be led on. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie. “I’ll be careful with him.”
“And be careful with you.”
He saluted her as he walked away.
When he found Eddie sitting on the counter at the sink in the bathroom, he was swinging his legs back and forth and humming something distinctly less pop than what was playing on the dance floor. No one else was in here, but that didn’t mean no one would walk in.
He walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his knee.
Eddie immediately stopped kicking his feet and looked up.
“What’s with the face?” Steve asked, reaching up to touch the line between his brows that always appeared when he was pouting.
Eddie shrugged. “Just not feeling it tonight I guess.”
“The music isn’t really your thing. Kinda surprised you like this place,” Steve said as his hand drifted down to his wrist. “Seems closer to a small club than a bar.”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
Eddie’s tone was sharp, laced with jealousy. Even if Steve hadn’t had his realization five minutes earlier, he would’ve seen what that was from a mile away.
“I was until I realized I’d rather be out there with you.”
Eddie snorted. “I don’t really dance.”
“But you’d dance with me if I asked, right?” Steve’s fingers circled his wrist and he tugged Eddie off the counter. “Even if I asked you to do it right here with no music?”
“Steve, what are you doing?”
“Dancing. Or trying to.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips and started swaying them in sync with his. “It is hard without music.”
“Why don’t you go back out there?” Eddie’s hands went around Steve’s neck.
“Because you’re not out there. I don’t wanna be where you aren’t.”
“Steve-“
“You know I didn’t actually know I liked guys until tonight?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, I really like this one guy. Not sure about others yet.”
Eddie was silent, but didn’t push Steve away.
“He was hiding in this bathroom though. I didn’t really think he’d join me out there, so I brought the dancing to him,” Steve winked.
“You like me? You? Like me?”
Steve nodded.
“And you just realized this?”
“Kinda.”
“In a queer bar?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s pretty gay, dude.”
Steve snorted and smacked Eddie’s chest. “That’s the point.”
Eddie moved in impossibly closer, no room for Jesus between their chests anymore. “So you lied when you came out to me?”
“I panicked! But it doesn’t actually count as a lie if I’ve seen the light.”
“Was it a rainbow light? Or the reflection of the disco ball in the glitter shorts Perry was wearing?” Eddie joked.
“Perry!” Steve smacked his own forehead. “He’s nice. Made me come tell you how I feel.”
“Oh. He did?” Eddie seemed shy for maybe the first time ever.
“Yeah. Said I should come dance with you if I’m in love with you.”
Steve hadn’t felt like this in a while, and hadn’t left his heart on his sleeve like this in even longer. As Eddie’s face went from shy to shocked to flustered, Steve thought about how long he’d been dancing around these feelings.
But no more dancing around them. Now it was time to dance with them.
“Can’t believe you just said you’re in love with me in the bathroom of a queer bar. Don’t even think they clean this place,” Eddie laughed, letting his forehead fall against Steve’s.
“I’ll tell you again outside.” Steve kissed his cheek. “And in the van.” His nose. “Your house, my house.” The corner of his mouth. “Everywhere.”
Eddie licked his lip, skipping over a soft kiss for a hungry one. It was hot, desperate, impatient. Everything Steve hadn’t known he needed.
Then again, he hadn’t even actually known he liked guys until tonight. Maybe he was just late to learn things about himself.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#headcanon#robin buckley#drabble#Steve Harrington is a bisexual disaster and in this essay I will#coming out that’s funny as hell#Steve coming out before he even realizes he’s queer is the epitome of cinematic masterpiece#alas I’m high and could only write this
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INFATUATED!
“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.” — mini series ❦︎
Synopsis: The feeling of finding a person who makes your tummy do cartwheels everyday, no matter what the situation is.
Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader
Warnings: super cute duper fluff, jk being the epitome of every girls dream man. Argument, oc crying, Jungkook wasting money on oc, banter, cussing, flirting. Js super cute cliché shit…
a/n: they’re my babies… they’re so ‘tear in my heart’ coded but after this I might be inactive. I have a paper due in three weeks 10 pages long so…. Plus in my free time I’m working on a series that I will drop the teaser and aesthetic maybe later or tmr🤍🤍🤍 enjoy!! Kithes.
Falling in love with Jungkook was so easy that it scared you. He did everything right, and whenever there was something wrong, he would do anything in his power to make it right. You thought it was too good to be true, and he would just disappear into angel dust if you blinked too fast.
“How do you feel?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead in the process. “Warm.” You talk about the fever you have. The covers that were wrapped tightly around you are shredded from you. “Hey!” You pout, shaking from how cold you feel even though the air is off and it’s not cold. “You’re not going to get better, baby.” He pouts back at you, holding the covers tightly on his chest as you try to fight back for it.
“I'm freezing,” you whine, your eyelids fluttering shut as his palm touches your face.
“You’re burning, baby,” he lets you know while sighing.
You had gotten sick yesterday, which had started with a sore throat. You had thought when you would have woken up today it would’ve been gone; spoiler: it got worse.
Jungkook makes his way to his kitchen, opening up the gray cabinet in front of him. He pulls out the tray filled with medicine his mom gave him whenever he moved out around four years ago. He pops open the pill container, taking two small white round pills out before grabbing a water bottle and making his way to you, who’s curled up on his couch.
Jungkook feels like shit whenever he can’t do anything to make you feel better. It didn’t matter what it was; he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. Seeing you sick, your face red from how hot you are, your eyes closed, and curled up from how cold you felt had him thinking that if he could take away your sickness and be sick instead, Jungkook would choose that option in an instant.
He hands you the pills and the water bottle and watches you take them one by one. He remembers when you gawked at him when he took 4 pills at once and learned that you have a fear of the pill going down the wrong tube.
He also remembers that you prefer pills and injections instead of just medicine syrup. Which baffled him, to say the least; how could someone prefer an injection instead of just strawberry-flavored syrup? He laughed at you, which you just shrugged because it was the truth; you preferred to get poked by a needle than just drinking something.
“That’s actually crazy.” Jungkook throws his head backwards as a laugh rips out of his chest. “It’s nasty. I don’t care what flavor it is. I would literally throw it up.” You scrunch your nose, remembering the taste of the medicines your parents literally shoved down your throat so you could get better.
“Don’t get me started on how anything medicine strawberry flavored gives me PTSD till this day.” You shiver from the thought, which has your boyfriend laughing at you.
“I can’t breathe,” you say, your voice scratchy from your sore throat as you breathe from your mouth. “I should’ve enjoyed breathing when I could,” you joke, watching your boyfriend's eyes twinkle. They had a small glimmer to them, making you wonder how that could possibly happen and why you haven't seen it before with anyone else.
Jungkook had no clue how he ended up here… with a girl he met in a chemistry class that accidentally dropped sulfuric acid all over the floor alongside the beaker smashing into tiny pieces. He watched how your eyes widened as a small piece of your hair dropped beautifully in front of your face out of the low ponytail. You had tied it with a blue latex glove as a hair tie since you didn’t have one after no one in class had one to let you borrow.
That was two years ago; now here he was taking care of you as you struggled to breathe from your congested nose.
“Can I get my blanket back?” You pout at him, which he only shook his head with a chuckle.
….
“Get whatever you want,” Jungkook gave your ass a little tap as you entered the makeup store, your eyes widening from excitement. “Don’t say stuff like that,” you give him a look, which has him tilting your face up with his hand.
“Why, baby?” He chuckles, pecking your pouted lips.
“Because it makes me feel things, duh,” you whisper into his lips. He smiles into your mouth. His lip piercing sends cold shocks through your body that has you playfully shoving him away, remembering where you guys are.
“Get whatever you want, and then we can go to the bookstore,” Jungkook picks up the black and white striped little Sephora bag before pointing in front of you to walk.
You giggled as you started looking for the things that have been sitting in your phone cart for a while now. Jungkook follows behind you, stopping whenever you stop to look at the shelves for something before you drop the product in the basket in your boyfriend's hand.
“That’s really cute,” Jungkook mentions the lipstick tester you have in your hand. “You should get it,” he says, tilting his head at you, watching you open the lid being met with a reddish-dark color.
“Don’t you think it’s too dark?” You look up at your smiling boyfriend.
“What?” You giggle as you stare back at him. “You look beautiful,” he says casually, reaching for your beanie and pulling it down a bit more, fixing it. “You literally want me to die right now,” you joke. “Baby!” Jungkook laughs at the tone of voice you used.
“You can’t keep saying things like that without expecting me to literally melt away,” you lean your body onto him while he wraps his strong hands around your much smaller frame as you look up to him.
“I just say whatever is in my mind at the moment, princess,” he explains, giving your waist a small squeeze, making you squirm as the feeling made you ticklish. “Ah!” You laugh as his fingers dig into your rib cage, tickling you.
You push him away as he tries to continue to tickle your tummy. “Stop!” You laugh, trying to get away as far as you can from him.
Jungkook stops when he sees two girls around your guy's age pass beside you both with judging eyes. “Someone’s mad...” Jungkook whispers into your head as you just shake your head with a laugh.
“Let’s leave, I got everything,” you giggle, intertwining your fingers with him, making your way to the line.
When you guys finally get to the line, you are met with a pretty blonde girl, her dimples carved into her skin when she smiles up at you both. “Hi, is that all?” The girl said, you take notice of her name tag.
“Yes, that's all, thank you,” you smile back. “Find everything you wanted?” Genesis asks, as she starts scanning the products. “Yeah, thanks,” you say, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you see the price rise with each scan.
“Card or cash?” Genesis says, as she points to the credit card reader.
“Card,” Jungkook says before you could reply. He pulls out his black card from the back of the phone case, before scanning it through the white card reader without looking at the price. The machine makes a small sound, “here you go, have a wonderful day!” The girl says ripping the receipt before putting it into the white and black bag, handing it to you.
“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk out the door of the store, Jungkook smiles at you before shrugging. “The least I could do, princess,” he gives your hand three small squeezes, which feels like he’s squeezing your heart as well. “It was expensive as fuck,” you pout at him. “How much?” He asks, “a thousand.” You cringe, scrunching your nose up at realizing the astonishing price. “That’s it?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow before reaching to the passenger side of his car.
“What! You’re crazy,” you say, giving him a slight swat. You watch as the side of his lips quirk up, making you mirror his actions.
“I love you,” you pout, as he leans into his car. “And I love you so much more,” he says, pulling you into him from your waist.
You tipped toe to reach for his lips, his lips mold with yours perfectly as you both were pieces of a puzzle. “How do you want the kiss?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze. “What is this, a drive-thru? I get to ask what type of kiss I want,” you giggle, letting your forehead drop onto his chest which rumbles with a laugh.
“You get to ask whatever you want from me,” Jungkook rubs your back softly on top of your thick hoodie. “Oh shit,” your eyes widened as you saw the small print of your makeup on his black shirt when you raised your head upwards. “What?” He looks down to his shirt where you’re rubbing your fingers on the dirty print.
“I just ruined your shirt, baby, ahh!” You freak, which has Jungkook laughing while trying to reassure you that it’s fine and he’ll just wash it when he gets home.
As much as you guys had moments like this, you guys had your disagreements. They weren’t as bad where they ended in screaming matches or end up not talking for days, you guys usually make up the same day before going to bed. Jungkook loathed going to bed whenever you two fought; he felt compelled to make things right before even considering sleep.
“Why are you making me feel bad?” You say, your voice cracking, which echoes the fractures in Jungkook's heart. “I’m not, baby. It’s just... I can’t do anything about it,” Jungkook tries to reason with you.
“She was literally all over you, and you didn’t stop it,” you feel your eyes start to water before staring down at your converse.
“She’s my mom's best friend's daughter; I can’t just tell her to fuck off, y/n. I backed off. I can’t control what she does,” Jungkook raises his voice, a tear falling down your cheek as he addresses you by your first name, a departure from his usual endearments, which feels like a knife to your chest.
“Okay, then,” you nod, tears starting to cascade down, smudging your makeup in the process.
Jungkook's throat tightens; he feels like he can't breathe, feeling like shit. He watches you wipe your tears, small sniffles escaping your mouth. “I’m going to go,” you sniffle, turning your back to him and reaching for your bag.
“No, don't leave, let’s talk this out,” Jungkook implores, turning you around to face him. He reaches for your cheeks, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down your puffy cheeks. “You’re hurting me,” you say, with a sniffle.
“I know. I’m fucking sorry, baby,” he feels his heart racing, wanting to die for making you feel bad for caring about him.
“Why didn’t you push her away or say something? You made me look fucking stupid, Jungkook,” you cry, recalling the pang of feeling as Kailey flirted with him in front of his family, and he did nothing to stop it, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he kisses away your tears, trying to soothe the ache in your heart. “I promise I’ll shove her off whenever I see her, and if I have the chance to avoid her, I will,” he whispers into your cheek with each kiss he leaves on your face.
“Promise?” You whisper, finally meeting his worried eyes.
“Promise, baby,” he whispers back, holding eye contact with your red, puffy eyes.
“I hate making you cry; please forgive me,” Jungkook pulls you into him, hugging you tightly as if afraid you'll slip away. “I forgive you, just don’t do it ever again,” you sniffle into his chest, feeling the throb in your heart melt away.
“I love you,” he says, swaying you both in the middle of his living room.
“I love you,” you sniffle.
….
"But the Maze Runner is so good," you literally whine at your boyfriend, who is in the middle of changing his shirt.
"Yeah, but not as good as Spiderman," he says, poking his head out the shirt hole with a grin.
"Okay, true, but the Maze Runner is just as good; you need to read the book to understand," you mumble, trying to separate a piece of hair from your mouth as you curl another strand with your wand.
"You just have a huge crush on Dylan O’Brian, let’s be honest," your boyfriend chuckles, sending you a look through the mirror, to which you just roll your eyes back at him, acknowledging a) that he was right. b) he was literally right.
“Says the boy who had a crush on Fluttershy when we watched My Little Pony,” you say, giving him a 'don’t try me' look. His jaw falls before giving your hair a tiny soft pull.
"You said you wouldn’t bring it up," he laughs before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Well..." you just shrug.
“Fluttershy reminds me of you,” Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers playing with your freshly curled hair. “Until you act like a brat,” he tugs on your hair, making your head snap backwards, where he leaves a big fat smooch on your lips.
“Okay, princess, let’s go,” he says before unplugging the curling wand wire, grabbing your bag and coat, before holding your hand and leading you outside.
#jungkook#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#jjk#bangtan#jungkook x reader#fluff#bts jk#jungkook smut#jungkook x y/n#established relationship#jjk fanfic#jk fanfic#fanfic#bts fluff#bangtan smut#bangtan fluff#jeon jungkook#jeon jk#jeon jungguk#jeongguk#bts x reader#bts smut#kpop fluff#bts masterlist#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jungkook masterlist
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