#you can’t tell me we all heard he had prepared drinks and immediately went
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Doodle dump for the video. Will do some actual art of Avery x Vind cuz… THEM.
#redacted#redacted audio#redacted imperium#echotober#imp!lasko#imp!lasko Moore#imp!freelancer#ace!freelancer#imp!avery Davis#imp!huxley#imp!gavin#imp!vindemiator#vindemiator#art#if freelancer fragging chugged the drink LASKO MOORE GAVE THEM#God help them they’re stupid#you can’t tell me we all heard he had prepared drinks and immediately went#’yeah. no. not drinking that’#100% chance it’s drugged#ain’t no way#don’t DO IT FREELANCER PLS#also I’m ready to break my incubus bf out of jail#thank you very much#can’t wait to kill lasko#how dare he disrespect healing magic like that
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Yushiro x Reader Adorable Mistakes
Yushiro was working on a potion that his witch friend, Tamayo, needed help with. You were doing your own thing in another room when you eventually grew bored. You walked to the room Yushiro was working and snaked your arms around his waist which startled him a bit.
“Yushiro, can you stop working for a bit so we can go eat and spend time together?”
He smiled a bit and placed the bottle and syringe down so that he could turn around and talk while looking in your eyes.
“You know I can’t do that, Lady Tamayo said that if the potion sits out for too long, something bad could happen, if you’re hungry, I can quickly make something for you.”
You nodded and he started walking to the kitchen but he stopped and gave you instructions.
“Make sure the potion does NOT start bubbling, if it does, call me immediately alright?”
You nodded and he went to whip something up for you. You started staring at the potion but that got boring real quick, who likes staring at a bottle full of mysterious liquids for a long period of time? You started staring out the window and watched the wind rustle the branches and leaves of the trees and bushes. Soon enough, Yushiro came in with your food and a glass of strawberry milk.
He placed it on the counter for you and said he would be right back and left again. You went over to his desk and started eating, you then grabbed the cup and started drinking it but then soon stopped. It tasted abnormally bitter and you tried to inspect the inside of the cup to try to see if anything was in it.
Yushiro came back in and was wondering why you were staring into the cup.
“Yushiro, there’s something wrong with the milk, I think it’s spoiled.”
He furrowed his eyebrows and came to smell it and when he did, his eyes widened.
“Uhh, what cup did you pick up? The one on the left or the right?”
“The one on the left.“
“…oh no…”
You then realized that you drank the potion that he was preparing for Tamayo and that’s when you started panicking.
“Oh my god, am I going to die?!”
“No! It wasn’t a harmful potion, it was just a…transformation potion.”
“Can you elaborate on that?”
He sighed and looked you in the eyes.
“It turns you into a neko. It gives you cat ears, a tail, and whiskers.”
“Why did Tamayo need a potion like that?!”
“I don’t know!”
All of a sudden, you felt a sharp pain in your stomach and sat down to try to ease the pain. Your breathing became ragged and Yushiro immediately came to you and started patting your back.
“Hey hey, it’s okay, it will be over soon-“
That was the last thing you heard before passing out. After some time, you woke up in the same room but felt different. You sat up and stretched and Yushiro heard you and came over to you.
“Hey, how are you-“
He stopped and blushed a bit before turning away and clearing his throat.
“The um- potion worked…”
You reached up to touch your head and felt two soft fluffy ears. You ran to the mirror and saw yourself but with a couple new features. You had big fluffy ears, a silky soft tail, and cute little whiskers on each cheek.
“Oh. My. God…I LOOK SO CUTE!”
You squealed and started playing with your whiskers and smiling in the mirror to see your new little fangs and Yushiro chuckled a bit.
“You do look cute, but I don’t know what to tell Tamayo…”
He said as he started stroking your head and then he blushed even more when he heard your soft purr and you gasped.
“I CAN EVEN PURR?! THIS IS AMAZING!”
You beamed and asked him to pet you more and when he did, you purred even more. He thought you were too adorable and couldn’t resist pulling you into a hug.
“Wow, you are really soft.”
He started caressing your ears and held you as he felt your purrs ringing through his own body. He would figure out how to tell Tamayo what happened later but for now, he wanted to cuddle with his now neko partner.
#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#requests open#feel free to ask questions#yushiro#yushiro x reader#october#spooky month
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Don’t Rain on my parade (part 2)
So I made a second spicy part to appease lol jk 🤭 I am half awake drinking coffee as I write this filth lol
Tagging: @thevoidwriting here is the 2nd part
Warning: this second part is spicy, filthy, nsfw— read at your own risk
Link to the first part: https://www.tumblr.com/krysta-cross/722418740682162176/dont-rain-on-my-parade
Rain instructed his colleagues to take care of the injured students as the test came to an end. He is still carrying you in his arms and lay you down on his bed, he immediately summoned the best healing mages of the academy to his quarters to tend on your injuries. He specifically instructed them to do the best they can to make sure you will live to see tomorrow or he will punish them immensely, not even showing his pent up guilt of causing this. The poor threatened mages put in their best effort to heal your wounds and change your clothes, after hours of spells they succeeded in saving your life. One of them went to tell Rain about the treatment success. “Head mage, we managed to heal her severe wound, her scratches and bruises and performed transfusion to make up for her blood loss. She will be awake later on.” he bowed his head down as he speak to the purple and gold clad mage who keenly watched as they do their job. “Very well, you both can leave now and assist the other injured fledglings.” he ordered and the pair immediately scurry out of the room.
The water mage sat down on the bedside to take a closer look at you. On your unconscious state he took his sweet time observing your now steady breaths, your lips slightly parted and your chest rising and falling as you breathe. “You have potential, you just need to undergo training and you can aid me on my works after sometime, little vixen…” he whispered and caressed your warm cheek. He can’t help but to stare at your calm face and lean closer, now inches away where he can feel your warm exhales from your lips.
You then opened your eyes and it met his so close so you felt threatened, the flashback of the previous fight unearthed from your memory. Your shocked response is to push him but you’re still too weak to even do so, the mage felt you’re threatened so he held both your hands that is on his chest and said “Apologies for startling you, I am just checking if you’re alright now, don’t force yourself to move…”
You snatched your hands away from his grasp and positioned yourself to sit upright, your back on the headboard. “What happened to our test? Did I pass?” you asked anxiously, knowing that your last attack didn’t even leave a scratch on him. “You did, I admit I didn’t expect you to use your own blood to shoot at me and that’s impressive, though it’s so weak it didn’t even made an impact. Nevertheless you did splendidly out of all the newbies so I will congratulate you and take you as my personal apprentice from today on, Y/N. Be prepared for the hellish training I will put you through to hone your talents.” he told you and that filled your heart with glee and dread at the same time as he had mentioned a hellish training but you sighed heavily to ease the building tension and spoke “Thank you master Rain, I will be in your care then, please be patient with me as I am really clueless sometimes but I am very much willing to learn from you!” your voice tone rises as you talk to him, you simply cannot contain the excitement as you just didn’t manage to pass but the head mage acknowledged your talents and took you as his personal student. That itself is a golden opportunity for a nobody like you.
Rain chuckled as he heard your response,”You are indeed something, Y/N. I gotta admit I am not a patient type of person but I will try to be patient with you as you wish, please do the same for me.“ he said and tucked some of your hair behind your ear which stunned you and left you speechless.
The head mage moved closer to you from where he was sitting a while ago and cupped your face and whispered in his husky voice “You’re beautiful up close, Y/N. Did you cast a spell on me to be drawn to you like this?” he leans so close, you can feel his breath near your lips, seemingly waiting for your reaction but you are too stunned to even react so he took his chance and kissed you, his playful tongue played around your warm mouth and you can’t help but moan as he conquered your lips. You can feel his hands crawling around your body, making their way under your top and his warmth are sending sparks of heat in you that you feel your knees weaken even if you’re sitting upright on the bed that you wrapped your arms around his neck for support as his kiss goes deeper and intense he is now going down on your neck down to your collar bone, trailing kiss marks over them as he go.
“Uhhhnnnn, m-master Rain…” you uttered softly as you feel his touches and kisses all over you.
“Y/N, you drive me crazy and it’s unbelievable since we’ve just met… I can’t stop myself for wanting you this bad.” he whispered in your ear and that made your heart skip a beat. Never in your wildest dream you thought someone as beautiful and majestic as this man will be mad for you this fast. The surge of your emotions got you washed over and you kissed him back, throwing your inhibitions out of the window which he reciprocated with a tight hug and another deep kiss, the heat of the moment consumed you as you went on.
You knew the man is experienced as he already removed your bra under your shirt and already working on the tied belt on your waist. His impatience showing as he is doing all this so fast while his mouth is busy silencing yours that your moans are all kept in, a way not to make anyone hear a sound from this secluded chamber.
He managed to remove your top clothing and pulled off from the kiss to appreciate the half naked beauty in front of him. You felt anxious under his gazes and hugged yourself but he pinned your arms above your head and indulged himself on your rich mounds, he has a way with his mouth that he knew how to tease you from there. You bit your lower lip to stop the impending sounds lumping on your throat as he romances you, you can feel his other hand touching your inner thighs, his fingers are now playing on your still clothed clit that you can feel yourself getting wet on each stroke.
He stopped teasing your nipples and went back to torridly kissing you, he lets go of your hands in hostage so he can use his other hand to caress your breast as his other hand is working on removing your last pieces of clothing. Your tied on belt is already undone a while ago so he yanked your skirt and shorts down, leaving only your thin silk lace panty covering you.
He pulled away from you and you blankly stared at the man removing his clothes in front of you, leaving nothing on. His godly features in full glory for you to see. You can feel your tension rising as you look at his erect dick, your mind trying to process if this size will even fit where it will.
“Keep your drool in check, Y/N. I don’t like them on my covers.” he said and laughed as you touched your mouth to check if you are drooling which isn’t the case, you felt embarrassed as he got you like that.
You turned your head away in embarrassment but you are taken by surprise as he lifted you up, his hands are on each of your thighs, supporting your weight as he positioned himself between your legs, you don’t have an option but to grab onto his bulky shoulders, your face are now so close and you can feel his heartbeat as your chests are pressed against each other.
“Can we go all the way, Y/N?” he sweetly asked, staring at you while waiting for your response.
Your mind is in shambles, you know you’re inexperienced in this aspect as you spent most of your life training and didn’t even date anyone until now. You felt like you will bore him or if you can take on his size but the sensation and heat of the moment won you over and the only words you can come up with to tell him is “make me yours…”
After hearing your reply, Rain spared no time to proceed. You can feel his hardness pressing on your wet opening with only your thin underwear in between them. He pushed the cloth aside and you can feel him entering slowly, your virginity is already his to take in few moments but you are too drunk on your desires to even think straight. The pain as he makes his way in intensifies that you hugged him tighter, buried your head on his neck in an attempt to stop yourself from letting out any sound. He felt you trembling in his arms so he gently kissed your ear and say “I’m sorry if this hurts but I can stop if you want…”. His concern touched you that the pain was slowly numbed by his words like magic. “Don’t stop, please…” you begged in between your breaths and braced yourself for him. You can feel him pushing his hard dick deeper into your cunt and finally made it all the way in, you can feel him throbbing inside your wet, warm cave. You gasped as he started to go in and out, his thrusts goes faster and deeper that you can’t hide your screams of pleasure which is like a sweet music in his ears.
“Y/N, you are mine and only mine!” he said in a commanding voice as he rammed his merciless cock deeper, he placed you gently down the bed without pulling out and continued to thrust in and out of your warm slick cunt. “R-Rain unghh~ haaaaaahhhh…” you muttered as you feel him touching the sweet spot and teasing your body with his playful hands. You can hear his soft moans and breathing as he went on, his body heat engulfing your frail body under his like a warm blanket on a winter day. His movements are becoming faster, his breaths getting deeper and you can just moan in ecstasy. He used his strong arms to lift his upper body off of you, he is now staring at you, under him as he continues to move. You reached your now sweaty hands to touch his face, this moment seems like a dream that touching him and feeling this warmth radiating from his tanned skin still feels unreal.
“Rain… give it all to me…” you said as you feel him tensing up inside you, signifying he is nearing his climax and so are you.
He smirked and leaned down, his lips touching your ear and whispered “I don’t plan on pulling out, Y/N.” His words with his warm breath sent tickles on your feet as you felt him going faster and hugging you so tight as he let his seeds flood inside you, coating your walls with the warm fluid that you feel it overflowing out of you.
You are still floating in pleasure, catching your breath after that intense love making that your body feels numb for a while, you can still feel his weight over you and he slowly lifts himself up and pulls out, he watched as his cum flows out of you and smiles. He noticed that his purple bed covers are stained with a mixture of your bodily fluid with the blood being the most vibrant one, he is too engrossed with your activity to notice it.
“Y/N, are you okay?” he worriedly asked, the mage seemed to be always worried every time he sees your blood.
“Mmm, yes… I think so… ugh—” you answered weakly and grunts, the body pains slowly creeping up to you now as the adrenaline dies down.
“You’re a virgin, did you not regret giving it to me?” the water mage asked, as he rolled on your side to face you.
“I told you to make me yours and you did, I think regret is out of the question.” you assured him and caressed his cheek.
“Y/N, you don’t have any idea how you made me happy today… you are mine and I am yours now. I hope I can make you happy, always.” Rain told you as he planted a kiss on your lips.
“This is more than I could ask for…” you said and leaned your head on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat like a slow lullaby as you fell asleep.
Hope this is good enough haha~
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Chapter Six: ILL-PREPARED
A/N: Loki faces the immediate consequences of his decision to flee from his responsibilities.
Word Count: 1100
Rating: Mature
Tags: Sick Loki, Epic hangover, Thor being a good brother
Chapter Index
*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+ *Minors DNI*
Loki awoke to Thor slapping his face. “Wake up, you useless ass! I have let you sleep for as long as I could.” Thor gave his cheeks a couple more slaps for good measure. “Wake up! It is time to start getting ready.” Thor grabbed Loki’s wrists and swiftly pulled him to a sitting position.
He was in his bed back at the palace. Servants were bustling around the room, entering, and exiting the bathroom, cleaning, dusting, and fretting to get his apartment back in order. Loki watched the movement for a moment when his stomach suddenly lurched. He had no time to react before he vomited over the side of the bed, narrowly missing Thor’s boots.
“Fuck! Loki!” Thor quickly went to the other side of the bed and pulled him away from the putrid mess. “Loki! I need you to cooperate with me here. Our parents are on their way. They will throttle me for letting you get this bad. I was supposed to be keeping an eye on you. You are going to get me into so much trouble!”
“Kill me. Put me out of my misery. Death would be a welcome relief. Oh…” Loki dropped his head into his hands.
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it. Get up! You need to bathe and dress. We may get away with this if we can keep you upright for the next couple of hours.”
“Can’t… cannot move… dying.“ Loki squeezed his eyes closed and laid back down on the bed. “Tell Mother I am ill. Tell her it came on suddenly. Bring me some ale; it will make me feel better.”
“And Mother will send for the healers, and they will tell her you are not ill but drowning in your cups. What then, genius?” Thor pulled Loki up to sit again.
“Drink this!” Thor commanded, shoving a cup into his hand. He took a tentative sip and grimaced.
“What the bloody Hel is this?” he snarled, glaring down at the cup.
“It is water, you idiot! Drink!”
“The bath is ready, Your Highness,” a maid announced from the ensuite doorway.
“I can’t believe I am doing this.” Thor pulled Loki to his feet and slung one arm around his waist. “Can you walk? Lean on me.” He led him to the bathroom.
“I want him shining like a diamond. Wash his hair, trim his nails, and scrub him raw. And do it quickly. We do not have much time.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the maids responded in unison and set to work.
When he emerged from the bathroom an hour later, his rooms were fresh, clean, and calm. Only Thor remained; Loki heard him pacing in the sitting room.
He stopped in the bedroom to admire his reflection in the full-length mirror next to his wardrobe. He was given black leather trousers and a heavy black tunic with gold and green patterns embroidered on the sleeves. He wore a wide, black leather belt with a large gold buckle and scabbard decorated with gold and green serpents twinning around the outside. A forest green cape hung from his shoulders, secured by two gold clasps shaped like snakes.
Loki thought this was the finest ensemble he had ever worn.
He bristled when his gaze finally landed on his face. His cheeks and eyes were sunken, his skin had a corpse-like grey tint, and the dark purple rings under his eyes were pronounced. His lips were chapped and flakey. His usually pretty eyes were lifeless and bloodshot.
He pushed aside the high neck of the tunic to see the bites and scratches that trailed down the slim column of his neck. His hair looked thin and dull as it hung just above his shoulders. At least it is clean, he thought.
The seiðr was all but exhausted from his body. He was healing at a snail’s pace. He needed a warm meal and a good night’s sleep. He could not recall the last time he had eaten food or much else after receiving his mother’s first message.
‘I meet my wife today.’ Loki’s stomach lurched. The mixture of nerves and an epic hangover threatened to do him in at any moment. He raked a hand over his face. He took a few deep breaths and squeezed his eyes closed while he waited for the nausea to pass. He could not recall a time when he felt worse. He would be expected to be charming, regal, and handsome in just a few minutes as he publicly met his betrothed in front of the entire realm.
He flashed himself his most devastating smile and immediately cringed. He shook his head and raked his hand over his face again. A stranger was staring back at him in the mirror.
‘What have I done to myself?’ he thought. ‘The girl will run screaming back to the countryside. Perhaps she will refuse the marriage after getting a good look at me.’
He did his best to stride confidently from his bedroom, but the sudden demand for his body to move made him lightheaded, and he slammed into the doorframe with a thud.
Thor, pacing in front of the fireplace, jumped at the sound. “Norns, Loki!” He rushed to his brother’s side.
“I cannot do this today.” Loki rested his head on his forearm and pressed into the doorway.
“There is no choice! The entire palace, minus the two of us, is at the gate. All the realm has been invited to watch as Asgard welcomes the future princess! You could say it is kind of a big deal. Now,” Thor mimicked Loki’s hand gestures up and down his body, “seiðr yourself an illusion to make yourself look less… dead.”
“But if only I could, Brother.” Loki’s normally velvet-smooth voice came out croaky. “My seiðr is dim. I could not summon an illusion if my life depended on it. If only I could rest. If only I had more time.”
Thor’s face softened, and he placed one big hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Time is the only thing we do not have now, baby brother. We must get moving. Half dead or not, you will meet your future this day.”
That is all it took for Loki’s stomach to lurch again. Thor noticed his face change color and quickly grabbed the waste bin next to Loki’s writing desk and thrust it under his face just in time.
Loki retched. He heaved and heaved even after all the contents of his stomach were long gone. Thor grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wiped the sweat beading on his brother’s forehead. “Mother and Father will be murderous. We are both dead men walking.”
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Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @superficialdomina @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger @trickster-maiden @simone818283
#a gift for loki#loki fan fic#sas stories#loki odinson#loki fanfic#loki fanficiton#loki#loki smut#loki x sigyn#loki smut and fluff#loki fandom#agfl#loki au#logyn#logyn fanfic
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Forever Yours Chapter 15
LMK Wukong x Bao Li
Be warned! There’s alcohol drinking and drunk behavior ahead.
First Previous
“Trust me! I’ve got the perfect plan!”
And with that, Wukong wrapped his tail around Bao Li and hopped out of the tree.
Bao Li let out a scream as she clung to Wukong for dear life.
Wukong simply chuckled as he landed on his feet.
“That was not funny, Wukong! None of this is funny!” Bao Li snapped as she wriggled against his tail.
“The look on your face sure was~” Wukong sang with a cheeky grin.
“Sun Wukong put me down right this instant.” Bao Li’s voice morphed into a cold growl.
“Just hold tight, ok? I promise I’ll get all this sorted out before anyone notices anything.” Wukong insisted as he scurried out of the garden.
Unfortunately, The Immortal Maidens had heard Bao Li’s screams and rushed into the garden.
However all they found were empty trees and monkey footprints.
“Oh no! That terrible brute! He kidnapped his own wife!” Cried one Maiden.
“And he took all of the peaches with him!” Sobbed another.
“We should inform The Jade Emperor immediately!” Declared another.
The Maidens all nodded in agreement before rushing off to see The Jade Emperor.
Meanwhile, Wukong had dragged Bao Li into the banquet hall where The Peach Festival was being held.
Sure enough, everything had been prepared from the decor to the plates.
The only things missing were of course The Immortal Peaches.
Wukong released Bao Li as he looked around the room.
“Wukong what are you doing?! We can’t just show up to the peach festival without any peaches!” Bao Li hissed as she grabbed his arm.
“I know! That’s why I’m looking for the event coordinator. I’m just gonna tell them to reschedule.” Wukong explained casually as he freed his arm.
“Seriously?! And just how do you expect to convince someone to reschedule an entire festival?!” Bao Li grumbled as she folded her arms.
“Don’t worry! I’ll just tell them the peaches aren’t ripe yet or something.” Wukong replied with a shrug.
Bao Li wanted to continue protesting but it was evident her husband wasn’t going to listen.
She let out a loud groan and buried her face into the sleeves of her hanfu.
“Don’t be like that, peaches! Everything’s gonna be fine! Just trust me, ok?” Wukong reassured as he put a hand on her shoulder.
Bao Li simply huffed and turned away from him, shaking off his hand.
Wukong let out a dramatic sigh and shook his head before leaving to wander around the room.
After a few moments of looking, Wukong’s eyes lit up.
While there was no sign of the event coordinator, there was a massive table holding tons and tons of barrels of wine.
In the blink of an eye, Wukong leapt onto the table, burst open the barrels and begun to help himself to the wine.
Despite how frustrated she was, Bao Li couldn’t help but worry about Wukong.
Against her better judgement, Bao Li let out a sigh and went to look for Wukong.
It wasn’t long before she heard the sound of loud slurping coming from a nearby table.
“Oh no! Please don’t tell me that’s who I think it is!” Bao Li whined as she followed the slurping.
She made her way to the table full of wine and let out a horrified shriek.
Bao Li’s fears were indeed correct!
For there was Wukong, guzzling wine like a thirsty man trapped in a desert.
With a loud belch, Wukong drained the last barrel of wine.
“SUN WUKONG WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” Bao Li screeched.
Wukong didn’t even look away from the pile of now empty barrels.
“I’m sure yer a nice ladeh but-” -Wukong hiccuped- “-but I’ve got a wife…She’s the best. And no offense but she’s prettier than youuuu…”
“Sun Wukong I am your wife!” Bao Li snapped as she turned him to look at her.
“Heeeey! Bao Li! There you are! I missed youuu… Some other ladeh was hitting on meh but I told her no!” Wukong slurred out with a chuckle.
“Oh goodness I can’t believe you’re drunk!” Bao Li groaned as she clutched the sides of her head.
“Hey! I’m not drunk! Yer drunk…” Wukong hiccuped as he pointed a droopy finger in her direction.
“Oh! We’re gonna be in so much trouble-”
Bao Li was silenced by Wukong sloppily dragging his finger over her lips.
“Shhhhh…..Shhhhhh…. Yer face is so pretteh. Stop talking and gimmie a kiss babeh.”
Before Bao Li could even react, Wukong tried to pull her into a kiss but-
WHAP!
He missed and fell flat on his face.
Wukong, however, was unfazed by the fall and begun sloppily kissing the floor.
“Seriously?!” Bao Li snapped as she peeled Wukong off the floor.
“Mmm…That was so good babeh… I wanna ‘nother”
Wukong tried to go for another kiss but was met with Bao Li’s hand shoving him away.
“I can’t believe this! We’re going to die! The Jade Emperor will no doubt have us both executed! And you’re still making a fool of yourself!” Bao Li whimpered as a few tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Shhh….it’s okeh babeh. I’m immortal…I can’t die.” Wukong slurred as he squeezed her cheeks.
“Get your drunk hands off of me!” Bao Li snapped as she swatted his hands away.
Wukong’s lower lip quivered as he begun to blubber.
“Why don’t you love meh anymore babeh?! What did I do to deserve this?!”
“You ate all of the peaches you were supposed to guard and now you’ve gotten yourself drunk!” Bao Li chided as she put her hands on her hips.
“But that was a loooong time ago!” Wukong whined.
“IT LITERALLY HAPPENED A FEW MINUTES AGO!”
“So? That’s like forever…”
Bao Li opened her mouth to speak but Wukong cut her off.
“You know what? I’m gonna get you some flowers! Then you’ll love meh again!”
And before Bao Li could stop him, Wukong had already dashed out of the banquet hall.
“SUN WUKONG GET BACK HERE!” Bao Li demanded as she chased after him.
Next
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Mitsuki Izumi RabbiTube Rabbit TV - Part 2: Ordinary days that can become special when filled with sincerity
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
ㅤ
Riku: Iori, is this placement alright?
Iori: Yes, just place it there.
Tamaki: Let’s do it guys…
Nagi: Ok! I’m done as well.
Tamaki, Nagi and Riku: …it’s done~!
Iori: You all were just placing strawberries, there’s no need to be so dramatic…
Riku: We’re not being dramatic! This is a handmade cake that we’ll be gifting to Mitsuki, you know…!
Tamaki: Mikki is always the one who makes the cakes for us, so we have to make this as best as we can.
Nagi: That’s right, Iori. The outer appearance is just as important as the taste.
Iori: Alright, I guess you all are right.
Yamato: Well, I’ll just be watching you guys from now on, beer still tastes the best after all.
Sogo: Let me pour you some beer, Yamato-kun.
Yamato: Oh, thanks.
Tamaki: Honestly So-chan, don’t let him drink too much!
Sogo: I know, Tamaki-kun.
Nagi: Iori, how much longer do we have to wait until Mitsuki returns?
Iori: Let’s see… he had a job nearby, so it will take about 15 minutes or so…
Mitsuki: I’m home~!
Riku: Uwah, he’s back!
Iori: Quick, hide the cake in the fridge…!
*Click*
Mitsuki: Argh, it’s always so cold at night… Hm, what’s up with this? Why’s everyone posing weirdly in the kitchen?
Riku: W-we’re playing red light, green light!
Iori: T-that’s right. Nikaido-san is the ghost. [1]
Mitsuki: In the kitchen!? Sogo’s standing beside Yamato, so what’s his role then?
Sogo: I-i’m the ghost’s crony…
Mitsuki: Crony…?
Nagi: The crony has to keep a close eye on everyone to make sure that they don’t actually move.
Tamaki: We’ll get targeted by the crony if this continues, let’s just hurry up and continue the game!
Mitsuki: O-okay. I’ll just go get changed then.
*Thud*
Tamaki: T-that was close…!
Iori: What was “we’re playing red light, green light” supposed to mean!?
Riku: I couldn’t think of anything else on the spot!
Yamato: The ghost and his crony doesn’t sound all that bad, don’t you think?
Sogo: I couldn’t think of any other terms, so that’s what I went with…
Tamaki: Yama-san is actually kinda like a kid.
Nagi: He looks like a middle-aged man, but he has the mentality of a little kid.
Yamato: Hey, I heard that.
Iori: Since the cake hasn’t been discovered yet, let’s make preparations to watch Rabbitube then.
*Click*
Mitsuki: I’m so hungry, let’s see what meal I can make…
Iori, Tamaki, Nagi, and Riku: Ah—!
Mitsuki: Ah!? What’s the matter!? I feel like you all are acting strange…
Nagi: Mitsuki! Look at the time! Rabbitube will be updated in a short while!
Mitsuki: Oh, you’re right. I can’t believe it’s already this late!
Iori: Let’s watch it first before we have our meal. Everyone, please gather here.
Yamato: Come here Mitsu, join the ghost’s side.
Mitsuki: Eh, I’m a crony of yours as well?
Sogo: I’m so sorry, it’s all because I said some strange things…!
Tamaki: I’m so excited about Mikki’s video!
ㅤ
Everyone: …
Nagi: As expected of Mitsuki, you’re outstanding as always! You made everyone laugh throughout so many points of the video!
Iori: It’s nii-san’s field of expertise, after all.
Riku: There was only Mitsuki in that video, but it really feels like we joined in on the filming as well! I wonder why that is!
Sogo: On the other side of the screen… the hearts of the audience are aligned through you as well, that’s Mitsuki-kun’s strength.
Yamato: I wanted to see you drink senburi tea [2], but you answered it correctly so fast…
Mitsuki: Ahaha! Thank you everyone!
Mitsuki: Yamato-san’s part will suffice if you want to watch someone drinking senburi tea.
Yamato: Don’t tease me on the program as well.
Tamaki: Mikki cooking without using English was really fun!
Tamaki: It’d be nice if I got that challenge [3] as well. I’m not good at English like Iorin and Nagicchi, they’re definitely experts at it.
Sogo: You immediately used a loan word…
Tamaki: Really?
Riku: Mitsuki, aren’t you afraid of snakes!?
Mitsuki: I was surprisingly fine with it! I could tell that it was a toy when I felt it.
Riku: I see! You looked super composed, it shocked me a bit!
Nagi: Mitsuki is a good host, as for what kind of video Tamaki will make, I’m unable to imagine.
Mitsuki: I could say the same for you, Nagi!
Nagi: Oh! I have a feeling mine will turn into a video promoting Kokona.
Yamato: I can tell.
Iori: …it’s time to bring that thing out now, everyone.
Riku: Ah, that thing! Hang on, I’ll go take it!
Iori: Nanase-san, please wait here! We’ll be doomed if some accident happens.
Riku: What do you mean by “accident”!?
Mitsuki: What do you mean by “that thing”? Did something happen?
Iori: It’s the cake all of us made together.
Tamaki: Ta-da! Mikki, thank you for always making cakes for us!
Yamato: The flavor might not be ideal, but this is our gratitude towards you.
Sogo: Wishing that you have a wonderful year ahead.
Mitsuki: …you guys… I thought you said you were playing red light, green light…
Riku: And for Rabbitube as well, thank you for always making such tasty food for us!
Nagi: Mitsuki’s smile lights up the entire dorm and warms our hearts.
Iori: …nii-san.
Iori, Yamato, Tamaki, Sogo, Nagi, and Riku: Happy birthday!
Mitsuki: Thank you! I love you all!
ㅤ
End of part 2
ㅤ
[1] - The ghost here refers to “it”, as in the person who has to turn around and catch the other players. I decided to go with Yamato being the ghost instead of “it” because of the running joke they make later on.
[2] - A type of tea that’s known for being very bitter, it’s usually used as punishment for losing challenges on game shows. It’s shown in Mitsuki’s (and everyone else’s) Rabbitubes, so give it a watch here if you don’t know about it yet!
[3] - It’s a bit hard to explain when translated to English, but in the original JP rabbit tv Tamaki mentions that he’s bad at English, yet he says the word “challenge” in English.
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Villain Arcane
This episode is gay as shit (kase)
Chapter List
Chase had been gone for a few days now. Skylar and Kaz have been in the most pieces by far, often trading off who’s worse— with Bree very close behind them.
Oliver felt guilty admitting that he preferred it when Chase wasn’t around. He didn’t admit it to anyone other than himself, and he’d never said the words out loud, but he knew it.
If he said that to the team, he’d be shunned. Even by his best friend.
A big part of him felt extremely bitter towards Chase. Stealing his best friend and the girl he loved. Who the hell did Chase think he was? He didn’t deserve that; Oliver was there first.
It was just easier without Chase there.
Or at least it would be if they weren’t so occupied with getting him back.
They’d be trying to eat lunch and all of the sudden someone would start talking about Chase again. He’d only been gone for a few days; why did it matter.
They were eating their usual take-out dinner when they heard something staticky.
“Uh, th-this is Chase. Come in Elite Force, come in,” He said. Kaz immediately scrambled for his radio, prepared to respond. “Actually, don’t. Marcus will know if you respond.” He sighed. “He isn’t hurting me. If you’re worried about that.” Kaz let out a sigh of relief. He went again to press the communicator button, but Chase spoke again. “Kaz, I’m telling you, don’t come in. Just listen.”
Kaz let out an airy, broken laugh, even as tears brimmed his eyes.
“Marcus shut off my GPS, and I’m in bionic-blocking shackles. So… I don’t know where I am. And I can’t even use my bionic eye to check,” He said. “I’ll report as soon as I can.” He huffed out a quick sigh.
“Let’s see, what other questions will you have… Uh, yes, I’m being fed, and I’m drinking water.” He laughed a bit. “Reminds me of before we left though. Left the lab.”
Bree moved in closer at the mention.
“Marcus isn’t… he isn’t being terrible. I thought he was just going to kill me, but he hasn’t even hurt me. So, I’m okay for now. You have time to stop this.
“You guys are smart, so I’m sure that you guys are figuring something out. I trust you guys. I trust you. We’re a team. This is Chase Davenport, over and out.”
“No, wait, don’t go…” Kaz spoke before he could stop himself. “How much progress have we made with Marcus?” Kaz asked.
He took a new posture, a new position. It was weird. It was like suddenly he was the leader. And not the same way he was on that first night, not someone just spitting out random, half-assed ideas. Someone who was confident and brave because if he wasn’t, it’d hinder the whole team.
“We’ve found his programming, but it’s protected; we can’t see his location right now— but we’re getting there,” Bree answered, as she’d been leading the hacking expedition the most.
“How soon do you think?”
“Uh, four days max?” Bree pitched. Kaz nodded and Oliver could notice the heavy way he was breathing.
Not super quick, not panic attack fast, but hefty breaths. Not very long breaths that sucked in loads of air.
“Okay, what should we do until then?”
“We can try to track the radio's location!” Skylar exclaimed. “That should be easier, it’d be done a lot faster. And if it isn’t then, who cares, we’ll have the backup.”
“Yes! Bree, give your radio to them,” Kaz demanded.
“What? Why me?” Bree asked.
“Because Skylar and I keep ours on hand at all times and Oliver’s is broken,” Kaz huffed. Bree rolled her eyes, but left into the hyperlift anyway.
“I’m gonna get dinner,” Skylar said. “And you’re eating tonight,” She added, clearly directed toward Kaz.
“Yeah, yeah,” He said, waving her off. She sighed before running off.
Kaz did eat that night. Hearing Chase, confirmation that he was alive helped the stress. That didn’t mean that he was able to sleep that night.
Just like the nights before, he was sort of drifting in and out of tense and stressful sleep.
He’d wake up every hour or so, check the time, and sigh in the knowledge that he’d have to go back to sleep.
2:36 a.m.
"Hey, uh… I'm pretty sure you're listening…“ Kaz immediately reached for his communicator, wanting to hear every word. He could hear Chase sigh. "Fuck, I hope you're listening. I just wanted you to know I love you. I know you… probably think that I don't— that I love someone else, but I don't. I love you. My life used to feel so pointless, but-but now I have you. It doesn't feel pointless anymore.
“Please… save me. I-I– I want to say it to your face. I want to see your face when I tell you that I love you. Please, let me see your face again…"
“I’ll save you…” Kaz breathed, half happy and half terrified.
“I wish it didn’t take getting kidnapped to tell you that.”
Kaz laughed lightly.
Kaz seemed happy. Oliver was not.
Chase was probably talking to Skylar. Who else would he be talking to? And Kaz seemed happy about that, as if Oliver didn’t have feelings for Skylar for years.
Admittedly, Oliver had been losing feelings for Skylar as of late, but it was like… the bro code. Don’t move in on your friend’s girl.
Not that Oliver and Chase were particularly close, and especially not close enough to be considered ‘bros,’ but teammates felt like mandatory bros.
Not only that, but Chase was the one who was always preaching about interteam relationships being unsafe.
Kaz didn’t know Oliver was awake when this radio transmission rang out. Oliver didn’t want him to.
#lab rats elite force#mighty med#lab rats#chase davenport#kase#kaz mm#kaz lref#oliver mm#oliver lref#oliver is real stupid#villain arcane#archive of our own
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Hello Hello!
I just wanted to say I love your fics!
ALSO!
Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!
Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-
ANYWAYS!!
The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)
They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!
You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-
ANYWAYS!
I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!
ALSO!
Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!
Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!
<3
Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.
And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!
Pronouns:nonbinary
Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.
SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.
*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.
When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.
Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.
Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.
If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.
Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.
You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.
Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.
Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.
In minecraft that is.
Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.
You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.
"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.
He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.
Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.
He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.
You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.
One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.
When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.
You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.
As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.
Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.
You woke to a loud knock.
When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.
You nearly jumped out of your skin.
You were stuck there blinking at them.
Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.
Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.
You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.
But you got use to it.
So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.
But after the second day you got use to it too.
For your birthday phil literally made a feast.
Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.
Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.
I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.
But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.
But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.
The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.
Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.
Pillow forts.
It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.
You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.
You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.
You bet an hour. Techno says all day.
You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.
He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.
"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza
You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.
"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.
You turn to techno.
"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.
Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.
Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.
Outlast.
You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.
So you decided fuck it.
That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.
When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.
They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.
But you sat up and looked at your computer.
"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.
"You need something?"-you
"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.
"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you
That day made highlights.
The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.
When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.
Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.
Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.
They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.
Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.
And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.
You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.
Even if they disagree with your eating habit.
Or energy drink addiction.
Or insomnia.
Or you mainly playing horror games.
Or you basically living in your streaming room.
Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.
I could go on but I'm not gonna.
I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.
And it took so long to finally get into it.
We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.
And then we had to get me into this program.
But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.
Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry
#mcyt fluff#techno x reader#mcyt#techno mcyt#mcyt x reader#technoblade x reader#technoblade#dream smp techno#technoblade mcyt#mcyt philza#dsmp philza#philza x reader#philza#philza x you#sbi#sbi x you#sbi x reader#sbi x y/n#tommyinit mcyt#dsmp tommy#tommyinit x reader#tommyinnit x reader#tommyinnit#tommyinit dsmp#wilbur x reader#wilbur x y/n#wilbur x you#wilbur soot x reader
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rough.
| draco x reader | angst | smut |
enemies to lovers 🖤
anon requested. theyre enemies but deep down theres a sexual tension and one day theyre on vacation and have to stay in one room together
cw: angst, name-calling (degradation), hate-fucking, very slightly dubcon
.
“I can’t stand you! I don’t want to stay in a room with you!” You shouted, shoving him away from you.
“I’m just as angry as you! I don’t know how the hell this happened!” Draco snapped, pushing past you into your shared hotel room.
You had gone on vacation to America with some of your schoolmates, and due to a mix up in the planning, you and Draco had ended up in the same hotel room. To make matters worse, the room only had one bed.
Draco was your sworn enemy since first year. He’d embarrassed you in front of the Weasley twins, the boys you had a crush on, and you’d retaliated by tainting the love potion he gave to Pansy. It had started seven years of fighting and backbiting, the two of you always at each other’s throats and never seeing eye to eye.
It had become second nature to fight with Draco. Screaming matches with him lit a specific fire in your belly— different from anything else. It burned through you, igniting every nerve in your body. You thought it was anger, though it proved to be more when nothing satiated the rage, and your mind began to wander.
The electrically charged energy between you was hard to ignore. It was like a live wire, blazing everything in its wake, or an oil spill, turning everything flammable.
.
“Malfoy-” you started, but you were cut off by his sharp glare.
“I was going to suggest that we change quickly and meet the others in the lobby. I was going to ask if I could use the loo, but I was going to give you the courtesy of offering it first,” you hissed, and he shook his head.
“Go, it’s fine.”
You stepped into the bathroom, closing the door. You were desperate for some distance from Draco. You freshened up in the mirror, not taking too long so you didn’t get him even more agitated than he already was.
“What are we going to do about-?”
“We’re going to worry about it when the time comes,” you interrupted, glancing at the one bed.
The bathroom door slammed shut, leaving you alone in the small room. There wasn’t a couch— and the chair simply wasn’t adequate. Ultimately, you both knew the two of you were going to end up in bed together that night, whether you liked it or not.
A deep sigh left your lips, and you grabbed your bag, preparing to meet your friends downstairs. Draco locked the door behind the two of you, and the elevator ride was painfully silent.
.
“My two favorite people. Sorry about the room situation,” Theo grinned, opening his arms as you walked up to him.
You stepped into his chest, letting tattooed limbs wrap around you. He kissed the top of your head, grinning into your hair.
“If Malfoy’s mean to you, you just let me know, okay? I’ll take care of him,” Theo promised you, finally getting you to giggle.
“Maybe tell her not to be a right bi-”
“Draco, baby, try a little harder,” Theo hummed, kissing Malfoy’s cheek before getting pushed off. You laughed at them.
Seven years, and you still wondered how it was possible for Theo-- the sweetest boy in the world, to be best friends with Draco Malfoy-- the devil’s incarnate.
“Come on, we’ll get breakfast then catch the ferry,” Cedric said, handing out ferry passes to your group: Draco, Theo, Blaise, Fred, George, Hermione, Ginny, Pansy, Cedric, and you.
Hermione took your hand, pulling you from the Slytherin boys.
“It’s going to be fun. And besides, we’ll only be sleeping in the rooms. It’s not a problem,” Hermione assured you, the girls walking ahead of the others.
“Except there is only one bed,” you muttered, and Ginny and Pansy spun to look at you.
“Are you serious?” Ginny giggled, and you smacked her arm.
“It is not funny!”
They held their hands up in defense, though their amusement was clear. You took the subway to the ferry, crowded with American muggles.
“Careful!” Draco hissed in your ear, catching you ask you lost your balance. His hand went around your waist, pinning you to his chest.
“M’sorry, I slipped!” you were thankful for him holding onto you, even if you’d never admit it. You gripped the pole for support, trying not to lean into him too much. He helped you off of the train, and you took Theo’s hand as you boarded the ferry.
“Look at the statue!” you gasped, admiring the skyline and leaning on the railing of the boat as you road to Staten Island.
“Don’t fall,” Draco came to your other side.
“Are you serious? Draco, I’m not a child!” you snapped.
“You’re leaning on the railing, and we can’t be using magic to drag you out of the water!”
You shot him an indignant look, and climbed up to stand on the railing. Even Theo looked anxious at your actions.
“Get the fuck down, right now.” Draco’s grey eyes were wide, and you stared back at him, daring him to touch you.
“We’re going to dock, and it’ll knock the-” Theo was interrupted before he could finish his sentence. The boat stopped suddenly, and as you caught yourself, Draco grabbed your waist, pulling you off of the railing.
You shrieked, struggling away as he pulled you down. He refused to let go of you, and you tried to shove him off.
“Knock it off. And quit doing dangerous shit,” Draco swatted your ass through your denim shorts, making Theo choke on his water bottle. You immediately stilled, staring at him in horror.
“Did you just spank me?” You gasped, startled.
He let go of you, answering with only a cold look. You shook your head and went to join the others, Theo and Draco falling into conversation with Cedric and Blaise.
“What happened back there? We heard you yelling,” Hermione asked, grinning behind her oversized mirrored sunglasses.
“Draco just being an ass. It’s fine,” you said, stealing her sunglasses and putting them on.
“Come on, let’s go have some fun.”
.
You spent the day sightseeing, walking around Staten Island before going back to Manhattan. The sun was warm overhead, the summer heat getting to your minds. You’d managed to avoid bickering with Draco most of the day, but now the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting a golden-orange glow over everything. You were drinking cocktails at a place near Times Square, tired from being on your feet all day.
“Tomorrow we’re going to the MET,” Theo said, checking the plans.
You stayed out late, talking and laughing until the lights of the city had drowned out the ink-black sky. You were tired, a little buzzed, overly hot, and you wanted to sleep.
.
“What the hell was that on the ferry? Do you think you can just-?” Draco grabbed your arm, cutting off your rant that you’d saved until you were in private, not wanting to fight in front of your friends. Your back hit the hotel room door, Draco’s chest pressed up against yours.
“Do I think I can just what? Knock that bullshit little smirk off of your face?” Draco seethed.
“Tell me what to do!” You pushed his shoulders, though he didn’t move.
“It’s clear that you can’t be trusted to make good choices on your own.”
“That’s rich coming from you-” you hissed, feeling the familiar burning spread through your abdomen.
“You should learn a little respect,” Draco’s hand wrapped around your throat, the rings on his fingers cold against your warm skin. A moan escaped you before you could stop it, and his eyebrows shot up.
“Is this what you need? Do you just need to have the bitch fucked out of you?” You squirmed, gripping his wrist and trying to pry his hand off of your throat.
You were seething, the energy between you becoming intensely sexually charged. You hated yourself for growing aroused, but you couldn’t keep the heat from spreading through your body, and you were becoming keenly aware of your throbbing sex.
Draco pushed his knee between your thighs, and you shook your head.
“No, no.”
“No? You aren’t horny and desperate? I know how much you hate me, and I know you’ve been dying to release all that pent up energy. You’re going to be sleeping in the same bed with me tonight, trapped under the sheets with my body. If you don’t act now, you’ll have to go untouched for the next week of this trip...” he smirked, knowing he had leverage, able to see how desperate you were.
Truly, Draco was desperate for you too. You made him so angry, but you managed to turn him on as you got under his skin. He was aroused now, growing harder as he watched you squirm in pure need. He was waiting to hear you say yes, to give in. He may have hated you, but he wasn’t an animal.
You bit your lip so hard you tasted metal, trying to hold in a scream. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths, your eyes narrowed into a glare. His thigh was pressed against your sex, and you fought against the urge to grind against him, desperate for friction.
“Fuck,” you swore, and Draco squeezed your throat, making you whimper.
“Is that a no, Y/N? Do you want me to let go of you? Let you go finger yourself in the shower?” he mocked you.
“I hate you.”
“I know. It’s mutual, love.”
“Alright, Draco. Please fuck me. But this doesn’t mean anything!”
He smirked, letting go of you and tossing his shirt aside. You rid your own clothes with his, freezing as your eyes lingered on his naked body. The need and arousal pulsing through your body was overpowering, and just the sight of him was making you falter.
“Do you need me to do everything for you? Get over here,” Draco’s hand wrapped around your elbow, tugging you toward him. He ripped your panties off, the veins in his hand flexing at the display of strength.
“Draco!”
“Save it.”
Draco hauled you to the bed, bending you over the edge. You struggled, trying to sit up. He shoved your head back down, pressing your chest against the duvet.
“Are you serious?” you snapped as he gripped your wrists in one hand, holding them at the small of your back.
“You’re going to lay here and be good or you’re not going to get fucked at all,” Draco threatened, and you burned in shame. You stopped straining yourself to look at him, residing to resting your head on your side, ceasing your struggle against his hold.
A choked groan left your lips as Draco slammed into your cunt all at once. He buried himself deep enough to where his hips were pressed to your ass, his body bent over yours. Draco slammed into you, frustration powering his rough thrusts. You writhed under his strong grip, moaning and squealing as he tore into your tight heat. Even with how wet you were, your body spasmed at the force.
It felt primal, rough, and dirty.
Fucking Draco was scandalous, even for you. The two of you getting so angry that the energy had to be channeled into sex felt deviant, Draco’s cock tainting your innocence with every thrust.
You felt better than Draco had imagined. Your noises were erotic, encouraging him more than the momentum he was gaining. He kicked your legs further apart, shoving himself deeper into your sex. Your moan was muffled by the duvet, squeezing your eyes shut. It felt like he was tearing you open, and you couldn’t get enough. Your head was spinning, and your fingers flexed, the only part of your body you could move freely against his hold.
“You’re fucking divine,” Draco breathed, reaching his hand under the two of you. His fingers found the area where your bodies connected, sliding upward through your folds.
“Draco, fuck, please!” you cried, arching your back as he pressed against your nerves.
“Please what, love? Are you going to quit being contrary?”
“Yes, I’ll do anything, just please touch me there,” you begged, abandoning your stubbornness.
You buried your face in the bed and screamed, your back curving into a bow as he fucked into you in time with the circles he was tracing with skilled fingers.
Draco swore as you pulsed around him, squeezing his cock as you cried from euphoria. Electricity shot through your limbs, your orgasm ripping through your body. Draco was quick to follow, pulling out and coming over your ass, watching you shudder and throb around nothing.
As his memories being frustrated with you returned, he continued his assault on your clit, pinching you harshly to watch you writhe and scream.
“Draco, Draco, I’m sorry, I’ll be nice, just stop!” you squealed, trying to kick him as he overstimulated you.
He released you as you asked, taking in the sight of your absolutely wrecked body. Your arms were shaking as you brought them under you, trying to push yourself up onto your elbows. You heaved in deep breaths, still trembling as you came down from your high.
Draco wiped down your skin for you, finding some decency.
“Hey, look at me. You alright?” Draco held your jaw, tilting your face up. You nodded, and he slid boxers up his leg before digging for something in his jacket pocket.
“Y/N. Come here,” Draco’s voice was low and husky, his back to you.
You forced yourself to stand up, your legs weak as you stepped toward him. You followed Draco onto the balcony, where he sat down on a lounge chair. Ringed fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to sit sideways on his lap.
His touch was no longer aggressive or harsh, but instead moving you with authority. You held a blanket loosely around your body, shielding you from the cool night air.
Draco didn’t speak as he pulled a cigarette from the box, putting it between his lips. He lit the end before setting the box and the lighter on the table, leaning his head back and taking a drag. He held your jaw, pressing his lips against yours before exhaling the smoke into your mouth.
He turned, watching the city lights glitter around you. He offered you the cigarette, and you accepted, sharing with him.
“Our secret?” you asked softly, and his silver gaze connected with his.
“Our secret.”
“Do you still hate me?”
The corners of Draco’s lips pulled up, and his fingers brushed over your bare back, his hand resting at the base of your spine.
“Only when it serves me, I suppose,” he murmured, and you fought off a smile.
“You’ll not bite me in my sleep then?”
“Full of questions. I make no promises, I’ve found I rather like how you taste.”
He kissed you then, under the city lights, tasting like smoke and sage and secrets.
#earl grey draco#draco#draco angst#draco smut#draco imagine#draco fanfic#draco blurb#draco oneshot#draco malfoy#draco x reader#draco x reader angst#draco x reader fluff#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy angst#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x reader smut#draco malfoy x reader angst#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy oneshot#harry potter#golden era#hogwarts#mean draco#enemies to lovers#female reader
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Hi! Can I request a jj x reader where they’re dating but have a massive fight right before a kegger so they’re ignoring each other all night. And then during the party her drink gets spiked and jj and the others take her home and look after her. Then the next morning jj is crying and apologising for not looking out for her. Thanks
scared for you ☆
jj maybank x reader.
warnings: swearing, underage drinking, spiking of drinks, blacking out, verbal arguments.
words: 2,649.
summary: when a fight breaks out between you and jj, he can’t help but be petty and ignore you. this causes you to be left alone at a kegger.
request? yes, and my requests are still open!
a/n: hi hi hi, more stories coming tonight! thanks for the request, and if you enjoyed please like and comment! i appreciate it. they/them pronouns are used for the reader. <3
my masterlist
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“jj, why are you so upset?” you questioned jj, and he hesitated, before finally speaking up. “really? why am i upset?” you nod, waiting for his response, but he doesn’t continue. you roll your eyes, “yes. why are you so upset?” you continue tying your shoes, preparing yourself for the kegger that already started thirty minutes ago. “i wasn’t that upset, but the fact you don’t even know why i’m mad just annoys me more.” he looks away from you, avoiding eye contact. you look up at him. “are you serious? you can’t just tell me what i did?” he stays silent.
you finally stand up, standing in front of him. his eyes look down at you, “i’m upset because you blew me off, claiming you had a family issue.” you frown. “j, i did have a family issue.” he shakes his head as if to say he didn’t believe you. “you really don’t trust or believe me?” he shrugs. “no i don’t fucking trust you, especially after all the shit you’ve done.”
“are you fucking kidding me? it really was a family issue. i should be the one upset here since you don’t even believe me.” he crosses his arms together. “you believe you should be the one upset?” he questions. you scoff, “yes! you don’t believe me, and you are blowing this whole situation up.” you try to continue but he interrupts you, “i’m not blowing anything up, stop acting like this is all on me. god, you are the one being secretive and shit.” you frown, “instead of automatically getting angry, why don’t you talk to me about it?” he shakes his head. jj storms off not answering you, the door slamming shut behind him.
you sit in silence, trying to even understand what had just happened since it all happened so fast. you contemplate going to the kegger alone, finally deciding to go. you assumed that jj would be going, and you thought it would be best to try and go so you could fix what just happened as soon as possible.
jj had left you, and he took the car. luckily, the beach wasn’t too far, and you could easily walk. you walked for about five minutes before you arrived. you eagerly search around, trying to find any familiar faces but you fall short. you didn’t recognize anyone around you. you approach the party closer, having people occasionally greet you, but none you were genuinely close too.
you see jj hanging out with john b and pope. you smile softly, glad that he was here instead of doing something reckless. you look over at him, and he looks at you, before immediately redirecting his eyes. jj had made a vow to himself that he would ignore you tonight. he didn’t want to blow up on you, but the biggest reason was he just didn’t want to talk to you anymore. you frown at the realization. since jj was ignoring you, you decided to do the same. you walk towards a small group of people, randomly introducing yourself.
they applaud you on your boldness, immediately letting you inside their small group. “so what are you up to?” a guy with brunette hair smirked at you. you smile, “i’m just here.” you shrug, not entirely sure what you were actually doing at a kegger, practically alone. usually if you went somewhere where you had no one to hang out with, you would leave. today was different though. you avoided looking at jj, and jj did the same. his eyes never even looked your way, too focused on john b’s lame attempts of trying to flirt with sarah.
the group you settled yourself into was slowly dying down. one girl in particular decided she had enough and headed home, her girlfriend going with her. the other two guys left, going farther down the beach to play football. that left you alone with the brunette guy, and his best friend. you hadn’t drank anything, not wanting to have a horrible hangover.
“are you sure you don’t want us to get you a drink? i mean, it would seriously loosen you up, and you could possibly get your mind off your current issues.” the brunette smiled, you had actually become his acquaintance. you bite your lip slightly, thinking. “i mean sure. why not.” you laugh slightly and he chuckles, “right on. i’ll be back.” you nod, watching him walk away.
his other friend smiled down at you, “are you from around here?” you nod. “yeah, what about you?” he smiles, “just here for a trip. we are actually heading back home tomorrow morning.” you frown. “ah, that sucks. did you enjoy your time here?” you ask, making conversation. he nods. “pretty fun town. the water was the best part. the ocean view was always so beautiful.” you nod at his response, silence falling over the two of you.
his friend came back, three solo cups in his hand. “cheers, to your guys on the last day.” you take the red solo, clinging it with theirs. “cheers.” they say together. you bring the drink to your lips, swallowing it. “it was so-.” your mind became clouded, and you couldn’t even think about what you were trying to say. “guys?” your eyes widened as your voice felt hoarse. your mind felt empty, and confusion washed over you. before you knew it, your eyes were closing, and your body began to feel limp and light. the last thing you heard were the two boys laughing. “too easy.”
the boys held you up, grabbing you by the waist. whispering amongst themselves while they carried you to their car. before they even made it halfway, john b stopped them. “what are you two doing?” he stared at you, limp in his arms. his heart hurt seeing you like this. he stared as they stood in front of him, silent. pope joined john b, “what is going on?” popes eyes set on you, anger boiling inside of him. “oh you know man, just had too much to drink.” john b shakes his head. “no. we know them. they hardly ever drink.” the boys raise their eyebrows, “is that so?” john b nods, walking towards them. “who even are you? never seen you before. and since i don’t know you, that leads me to believe that they don’t know you either.” the boys glanced at each other for a moment. “your right. we don’t know them.” they swiftly push you into john b, john b falling back at the sudden movement.
the culprits ran towards their car, hopping in and driving off. john b held you up, pope joining in, making it easier to lift you. john b looked at pope, pope already thinking the same thing. “how the hell are we going to tell jj?” pope shook his head. “let’s just get them back to your house. then we can think of ways to break the news to jj.” john b nodded in agreement. john b and pope carried you to the twinkie, pope getting in the front seat, john b held you close to make sure you still had a pulse and they hadn’t done anything yet. “they are knocked out for sure.” john b spoke up.
“it’ll be a few hours before they even have a chance of waking up.” john b frowns, he just wanted you to wake up now so he knew you were actually okay. once pope had made it to john b’s house, the two of them carried you inside, placing you on jj’s bed. you laid limp on the bed, the two boys watching you in horror. “shit! reposition them! that looks so uncomfortable!” pope scrambled to the bed, immediately straightening you out. he took your shoes off, placing them at the end of the bed. pope took the blankets, tucking you inside the bed.
“are you ready pope?” john b looked at pope, seeing his eyes widened. “what do you mean, are you ready pope?! i’m not calling jj!” pope glanced at john b, bewildered. john b rolled his eyes. “fine but i’m putting it on speaker.” pope nods, patiently waiting for john b to grab his phone.
john b dials jj’s number. it rings twice before jj answers. “yo john b! what’s up.” john b frowns. “jj, you know how you left the party?” pope sighs while he watches this whole situation unravel. “yeah, i wanted to get out of there. i couldn’t stand watching everything, well y'know.” jj laughed, “so glad i left though. i’m doing good.” pope interrupted him. “john b! just tell him already.” jj stopped, “pope? tell me what?” jj held his breath, waiting. his mind was spiraling with every bad thing that could have happened.
“uhm. jj it’s bad. pope and i, we were at the beach. we noticed these two boys… and they drugged-.” before john b could even say your name, jj cut him off. “no.” pope rolled his eyes, seeing jj immediately shut john b down. “no, guys. this isn’t funny. you can’t say this shit as an attempt for me to come home.” john b groaned, slamming his hand on the kitchen table. “jj! will you stop with the shit! this isn’t a joke bro. that would be fucked up.” jjs breath gets caught in his own throat. “you mean…?” john b frowns, “yeah.” jj immediately hangs up, getting ready to go to john b’s house.
when jj arrives, john b and pope give him the rundown on what had happened. they decided to wait to invite kiara, since she had to work. jj slowly walked to his room, scared of what he would see. when he saw you, passed out on his bed, his heart shriveled up. water glistened in his eyes. he couldn’t help but blame himself. he wasn’t there for you. he didn’t protect and watch after you.
he immediately leaves the room, pulling pope and john b into a hug. “thank you. thank you for protecting them when i couldn’t.” john b frowned. “jj- you can’t put this on yourself.” pope nodded. “how could you have known?” jj shakes his head. “i should have been there, i should have stayed.” john b smacks him on the side of his head. “get your shit together jj.” jjs mouth opens in shock. “this isn’t the time for you to spiral. you need to go in there. wait for them to wake up, and you need to make sure they are okay.” jj nods, heading to his room.
jj hated seeing you like this. he sat on a chair in the corner of his room. occasionally checking your pulse to make sure you were still with him. he prepared you water, and was already thinking of what he should make you for breakfast. at around four am, jj had fallen asleep. he didn’t mean to, in fact he wanted to stay awake so he could be there for you when you woke up.
jj woke up at seven am, he immediately looked over at you, seeing you in the same position, and still asleep. his heart hurt. john b and pope weren’t there to ground him, so his thoughts took over. how could he leave you alone? how could he even let this happen? why was he fighting with you in the first place? was it really worth it? these questions continued to invade his mind. he couldn’t hold back the tears as he was silently sobbing in the corner of the room.
the outer banks sun was shining through jj’s thin window curtains. you stirred, waking up. when you were fully awake, you heard faint crying. this caused you to turn your head to see what was going on. “jj?” you frown, seeing him in such a distressed state. you immediately sit up, and become light headed. you didn’t know exactly what had happened. the last place you remembered you had been was at the beach, but somehow you woke up in jj’s bed. you smile, hopeful that jj wasn’t mad at you anymore.
“jj?” you say once more, louder so he could hear you. his head turns towards you. his face was stained with tears, his hair wild as you assumed he ran his hands through it multiple times. before you could ask any questions, he’s already bombarding you. “are you okay? do you remember anything?” you shake your head, your mind going back to last night. “the last thing i remember is going to a kegger, and meeting a group of people because you were ignoring me.”
he stayed silent. he was right. he was the reason, he- “jj? what’s on your mind? was it your dad again?” you frown. your arm reaches out to cup his face. he pulls you into a hug. “no. not my dad. last night… uh.” he pulled away, giving you some space. “last night you were drugged.” your eyes widened. “what?” the tears began to fall from his eyes once again. “look. i’m so sorry. i should have been there for you. i could have prevented this. i’m so sorry. i didn’t want this to happen to you. if only i had stayed, if i was there i would have punched those two guys in the jaw.” his eyes shut, you take your hand to wipe away his tears.
“jj. it’s okay. nothing happened to me, did it?” you wait, slightly scared at what his response would be. “no. nothing happened, john b and pope saved you in time.” you nod, relieved. “jj. i’m okay. nothing happened to me, please. john b and pope saved me. it's not something you should work yourself up about.” he slowly nods, not entirely agreeing. you open your arms, hugging him. “okay. i was really scared for you.” you frown at his words. “jj-,” he cuts you off. “i just… i can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if john b and pope weren’t there.” you shake your head. “you can’t think about that. jj, im here. i'm fine, we are okay. we shouldn’t think about the past, it’ll only make matters worse.”
he listens, a frown still hung on his lips. “okay. well i want to make you a special breakfast!” your eyebrows lift at jj, “you?” he smiles, and you continue. “you want to make breakfast?” he nods, “yes!” you stare at him, “okay. sure.” you get entirely out of bed, his hand immediately finding your waist to ensure you were steady. “first let's get you changed.” he pulls a t-shirt of his from his closet, and a pair of shorts you’ve left over. he hands you the clothes before turning around to let you change.
you put the outfit on, handing him your outfit from yesterday. he puts them in the dirty laundry hamper, walking you to the kitchen. you watch amused, seeing jj pull out a bunch of different ingredients and spices. “what are you trying to make?” he turns around, shocked that you even have to ask him. “duh, i’m making us pancakes.” he smiles up at you, as he holds the carton of milk. “oh right. okay. i’ll let you do that then.” john b walks out of his room, joining the two of you in the kitchen.
“why are you guys so loud when it’s literally eight in the morning?” you laugh, “hey!” you call out to him and he jumps at your loud voice. “what?” you stand up, pulling him into a hug. “thank you.” he smiles. “i’m glad you are okay. we are always going to be by your side, regardless if we are all fighting or not.” you nod. your attention from john b shifts to jj, seeing him as he is dancing around the kitchen with a bowl in his hand. “oh. jj is cooking?” john b smiled, “this will be good.” you nod in agreement, “definitely.”
#jj maybank#jj maybank obx#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank story#jj maybank x reader angst#jj maybank angst#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x gn!reader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks one shot#jj maybank one shot#jj#maybank#jj maybank outerbanks#jj maybank outer banks
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I'll Hold Mine.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Requested: Nope
Warnings: None
Genre : Pure fluff
Summary: Y/N has stuffed toys. She's ashamed of telling anyone else she has stuffed toys. Bucky doesn't understand why, they're so cute after all!
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Before you ask, yes, I was screaming the whole time while writing— this wasn't what you were gonna ask? Oh. Enjoy!
---
Bucky Barnes stared as the woman walked into the communal area, bleary eyed. "Y/N, good morning! Had a good night's sleep?" Clint asked her. Bucky quietly watched as Y/N nodded, but he knew she was lying. "Good morning to you two," she greeted them, giving them a small smile. Clint, about to walk out of the room, ruffled her hair and left.
"You're lying."
"Pardon?" Y/N blinked, staring at Bucky as she waited for her coffee to be prepared. "You didn't sleep well, I can see it all over your face," he rephrased, taking a sip of his coffee. "Fine, you caught me!" she groaned, "I didn't sleep last night." Bucky frowned when the woman plopped down next to him, clutching her mug with both hands.
"Why not? Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly. "It's embarrassing and I'm not going to tell you." She refused to speak after that. Embarrassing? Her? In his eyes, never. He didn't press on, though, silently offering his sad friend some company. When he heard a sniffle, he couldn't help it.
"Tell me what happened. I promise I won't judge you," he insisted, turning to look at her. "It's just— it's just that—" Y/N took in a shuddering breath. God, why was she making a fool of herself in front of her crush?! "Morning, people! Oh, oh no, I picked a bad timing—" Bucky and Y/N both turned to Tony, who slowly backed out of the room.
Nope, she wasn't doing it.
"I'm sorry, Buck," she mumbled, got up, kept her mug away and left. Bucky nearly crushed the mug he was holding, cursing Tony because why did he have to walk in just as Y/N was opening up to him?! He huffed and sat alone, drinking his coffee in misery.
The thing is, Y/N was great friends with everyone. She was loud, cheerful, funny and excruciatingly beautiful— you get the gist. Not with him, though. Around him, she was always quiet, shy, meek… submissive, in a way.
Hey Y/N, can you pass me that bottle?
If it were anyone else: "Your legs finally give up on you? About damn time." With him? "Yeah sure, here you go." She never, ever talked witty with him. Something about her was off… was she scared of him? Bucky's eyes went wide. Of course, that was it! Y/N Y/L/N was afraid of James Barnes! Why, though?
He was always so good to her. Nobody minded teasing Y/N, sometimes going too far but it was all in fun and Y/N knew that. Bucky, on the other hand…
Roast Y/N or finish the bottle of beer— you always drink when it comes to her, simp!
He could never. He had no idea what her insecurities were, what if he accidentally pushed a button and she stopped talking to him? At least they still made small talk, if she stopped talking to him, he didn't know how he would live. "Hey, everything okay?" Startled, he looked up at Steve.
"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "Everything is fine, what happened?" Steve sighed and sat next to his best friend. "It's Y/N, isn't it? I know the look on your face," he chuckled. "She was crying," Bucky spoke softly, "And she was about to tell me what happened but Stark walked into the room. Then she left without telling me."
"Why doesn't she talk to me?" he continued, intently staring at Steve. "I'd think that's fairly obvious," Steve laughed, "The woman loves you. Classic traits of a crush, Bucky. She limits her conversations with you because she doesn't want to embarrass herself. She never talks back to you because what if you start hating her?" Bucky blinked.
"Me? Hate her? Not possible," he scoffed. "You didn't find out why she was crying, right?" Bucky shook his head. "Why don't you go to the privacy of her room and find out? No one will interrupt you there, you might form a good bond and who knows? That might be the start of a beautiful, perfect relationship."
"I can't just go there like hey we were talking and you didn't tell me something so I've come to find out, that's invading her personal boundaries! She'll tell me when she's ready," Bucky spoke indignantly. "She hasn't eaten breakfast yet, there are some muffins in the oven, why don't you take those to her room?" Steve suggested.
After a minute of consideration, Bucky agreed.
---
Three short raps on the door.
"Y/N?"
Inside the room, Y/N froze. What was Bucky doing here? She glanced around her room, horrified, because it was a mess. "What happened?" she shouted from inside. "I brought you some breakfast, thought you might be hungry." She was hungry, though. "Wait 5 minutes!" Bucky patiently stood outside as Y/N made her room more presentable—
By hiding all her stuffed toys.
Some went in the wardrobe, some tossed carelessly under the bed, some stashed in the bedside drawer until she was certain there were no animals on display. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to the toys before opening the door to her room. "Bucky! Thank you for bringing me food, come in! Sorry, it's a mess."
Bucky waved his arm in dismissal as he walked in, looking around the room. "Your place is beautiful," he commented, giving her a small smile. She blushed and rubbed the back of her neck, shrugging. Both of them sat on the bed and Y/N picked up a muffin. "What do you wanna ask me?" At the blatant question, Bucky looked up.
"Why were you crying?" Y/N sighed and looked at her lap. "Sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I didn't mean to," she muttered. "No, no, it did not make me feel uncomfortable, I wanna help you," Bucky answered, shaking his head. "It's…" "Embarrassing? We've been through that, I don't care." A small laugh escaped her lips.
"Fine, I'll tell you. Promise you won't laugh," she whispered. "I promise." Y/N huddled close to him in case someone was somehow listening to them. "I lost my favorite stuffed toy and can't find her." Bucky sat silently for a few minutes. That was her definition of embarrassing?! What's embarrassing about stuffed toys?
"Should I help you?" he offered immediately, smiling at her. "You don't think I'm crazy? I'm a grown woman who still has stuffed toys. Names and everything," Y/N exclaimed, her jaw dropped. Bucky shrugged. "Of course I don't think you're crazy. There is nothing shameful about stuffed toys, I think it's quite sweet."
"Really? Just when I thought you couldn't be more perfect—" Bucky laughed at her words. They quickly finished eating the muffins and then stood up. "Have you checked the whole room?" Bucky asked her. She nodded. "Yes! The drawers, the cupboards, the wardrobe, over and under the bed… she's nowhere."
"But have you checked the bathroom?"
A loud groan left Y/N. "That's it, the bathroom! Ugh, I was so sleepy last night but I had to pee so I went to the bathroom, might've forgotten her inside, how stupid of me! Damn it!" As she kept rambling to herself, Bucky walked into the bathroom and fetched the doll that was sitting atop the sink. "Here you go, doll."
Y/N looked up at the nickname. "Hah, doll. Just like the one you're holding," she joked, taking the doll from his hands. "Yeah," he whispered, "Just like the one I'm holding." Y/N froze when his arms went around her waist, pulling her close to him. Was this actually happening?!
Did her crush like her back?!
She wanted to scream. "Bucky?" she whispered as he continued staring down at her, a dazed look on his face. "Why are you so adorable, doll?" he asked instead, gently rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb. Y/N gulped at the shockwaves the action sent throughout her body. "You tell me," she retorted, her breath hitching when he smirked at her.
"Find your wits now?" he teased, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips before she could answer. Shivers ran down her spine as she kissed the man back, clutching her doll tightly in her arms. Without breaking the kiss, Bucky walked forward until the back of Y/N's knees touched the bed. "Sit," he ordered and Y/N complied, looking at him with wide eyes.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Sleep."
Y/N blinked, expecting a sexy response but instead she got— "What?" she asked him, confused. Bucky knelt in front of her, taking her hand in his. "You haven't slept all night, doll, I need you to sleep. This—" He gestured between them, "—Has lots of time to happen. For now, all I want is for you to get some rest. You've had a tough morning." Y/N's eyes watered.
"Don't go away."
The way she said it was enough to keep him by her side forever and always. "Never, doll. Come on." He picked up the plate which was lying on the bed, dusted the crumbs off and lay down. Y/N lay down next to him, clutching her doll in her hands. She turned to face away from him as he turned, wrapping an arm around her, spooning her from behind.
"Thank you Bucky, goodnight."
He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder. "Goodnight. You hold your doll, I'll hold mine," he whispered, smiling when the sound of soft snores filled the room.
---
"Aye, sweet doll!"
"She is, isn't she?"
"You know damn well I wasn't talking about your girlfriend, Barnes—" Y/N burst out laughing as Sam and Bucky narrowed their eyes at each other. "But I was! Sweet doll." Y/N scrunched her nose as Bucky pressed his nose to her cheek, the stubble on his face pricking her skin. "Thank you, Sam, that means a lot."
"No worries!" He plopped down next to Steve, who was looking at them with a smile. After Y/N got into a relationship with Bucky, she was opening up more. She was no longer embarrassed about her stuffed toys; these people were her friends and they stood by her side no matter what, no judgement. That's all she needed.
Clutching her doll to her bosom, Y/N snuggled against Bucky's chest, resting her head in the crook of his neck. "All okay?" Bucky whispered to her, wrapping his arm around her as he brushed her hair away from her face. "Yeah," she whispered as Tony walked into the room, immediately getting hit in the face by a deflating balloon, "All okay."
"I love you so much, doll," he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as she closed her eyes. "I love you too, Bucky," she smiled into his shoulder, "I love you too."
"As cute as all this is, it's your turn to pick a movie, Y/N so please, pick a movie."
"Hmm, I'm not in the mood… how about you pick one, Peter?"
"No! No, anyone but him!"
"Come on, we haven't watched Frozen 2 in a long time—"
"Shut up! No! Maybe give your boyfriend a turn, he picks better movies!"
"Never have I ever been so offended by something I 100% agree with."
"What do ya say, doll? Give me a turn?"
"Sure Barnes, whatever."
"Ouch."
"Deserved."
"Breaking News! For the first time in the history of the world, we're witnessing Y/N Y/L/N actively roasting James Barnes—"
"I don't mind anymore, everyone knows he's gonna come running back to me in no time."
"Hot damn!"
"Come on now, doll, you wanna be punished so badly—"
"Ugh, keep dirty talk out of this!"
Needless to say, movie night went great.
---
A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you enjoyed!
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fluff#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan characters#disney#mcu#marvel#avengers#fanfic#writing#writeblr
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Rumors, Freebies, and a Race for Last Place
Part Two of The Bet series
Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 22.5K DONT say shit alright just don’t
Warnings: Okay. There is degradation in this, some name calling and heated interactions. There is a LOT of smut, dirty talk and rough sex. If these things offend you, please do not continue reading.
***
It’s recommended to read part one first.
***
Getting into the x-wings is always fun.
It actually might be your favorite part. Granted, alarm bells ringing and thousands of jumpsuits scrambling in all directions is never typically a good thing, but there’s also an inherent rush about it, a thrill in launching up the metal paneling as quick as you can and suiting up to provide aid. It’s a side-effect of camaraderie, of being surrounded by like-minded individuals willing to do everything they can to help. You never feel like you’re going to your death, even though that’s often the grim reality for at least one of you on a good day. There’s always a roaring in your ears while you do it, adrenaline sharpening your senses and preparing yourself for conflict, not thinking anything beyond gogogogogo—
But getting out of the x-wing is… not great. At least for you. It’s sluggish. Your body is always completely drained and you never come out of it feeling the same way you went in. Even in times of victory, there’s a somberness inside you after battle. As much as you tell yourself you’re fighting for good, for prosperity against an evil machine hellbent on enslaving the galaxy, there’s only so many explosions lighting up in front of your eyes and screams cutting out through your comms you can take before winning just doesn’t really feel like winning anymore. Most pilots are able to handle it better than you are, but since you joined the Resistance, you’ve never truly felt the desire to celebrate. Not even when you serve a massive, glaring defeat to the other side. There’ll always be at least one missing x-wing, one empty seat at the table, one person not here to celebrate with you.
You came back in one piece this time. Barely.
The whole mission went sideways—literally. You’d purposefully stationed the tandem just outside the coordinates you were meant to be surveilling so that you’d be hidden from sight and dead to the scanners should the fleet arrive, but something must’ve happened. You must’ve powered down a few seconds too early after he turned the thrusters off, because apparently the ship drifted in dead space for close to eight hours without either of you noticing, having no working computers to actively read your location and correct it. You were sitting ducks right in the hyperspace drop zone by the time the First Order showed up, and by that point you had no choice but to engage.
“Gold-Ten,” a voice murmurs from behind you, and you blink, suddenly seeing the base landing platform stretching out long in front of you, hundreds of docking ships and boisterous pilots scrambling out of them to hug their comrades and congratulate them even as medics rush past with white coats and gurneys. They’re never for the pilots, but they dispatch healers anyways whenever a convoy returns in case a straggler gets picked up. There’s an unspoken understanding in space battle—pilots never get injured. They either come back unharmed, or they don’t come back at all.
Dameron.
You turn around and watch him slowly approach you with an unreadable expression, his jumpsuit still bunched halfway down his torso. The once bright white sleeveless undershirt is now greasy and damp with sweat, his dark curls sticking to his forehead. He winces with every bow-legged step—you know the feeling—before he’s standing directly in front of you and something is carefully being pulled out of your hands. You didn’t even realize you were holding onto anything.
Your helmet. You forgot to leave it in the x-wing, and you’ve been carrying it around under your arm aimlessly while mentally checking off the squadrons as they return, counting the numbers you lost today while everybody else hugs and whoops and claps each other on the back.
It’s not as bad as you were expecting it was going to be, not as bad as it seemed just an hour earlier when you were listening to Dameron bellow out evasive flight maneuvers a millisecond before he enacted them and you adjusted your firing at the TIEs accordingly. You used to think you were quick with how rapidly you could suit up and fly out, drop in to assist and engage, but on the other side, it felt like your reinforcements lollygagged for ages before arriving. You were left to defend against an entire fleet in one stupid ship, more lines of TIEs sinking like flies from launch decks every second.
“Gold-Ten,” you hear again, and you blink a few times, needing to focus your vision before you can find his gaze.
Dameron’s palm, previously hovering a few inches above your shoulder, suddenly drops to spread along the curve of it and you take a deep breath, almost wanting to shudder at the feeling of something touching you. You channel all your focus into it, feel his fingers branch out strong along the tight muscles in your neck, giving you an anchor you automatically lean into.
You and him are no strangers to touching. Before today it was mostly reserved to poking and prodding and flicking and light slapping in an effort to piss each other off, but now… you can’t even think about it right now, your body will just fucking glitch out on you. After everything that just happened, you cannot think about where else that hand has been recently, not right now.
“You did… you did really fucking good today,” he tells you quietly, slowly trailing his hand down the length of your entire arm until he catches your wrist and a few of your fingers in his loose grip. “Seriously. That was… we were…”
His touch is so present, so reassuring. Grounding, when all your mind wants is to just float away. You glance down at where his fingers are gently tangled with yours and you feel your hand tighten just slightly, the smallest squeeze while he blinks down at you.
“We almost died, like… every single second,” you barely manage to croak, not really having the words to express it right now. You always need at least an hour or two after missions like this to just sit in one place and regroup. Usually you find yourself wandering back to your room to lay on the bed and stare up at the ceiling while you consider your own mortality, but Dameron interrupted you this time before you could process it by yourself. “We…” Your voice sounds absolutely shredded. “W-We shouldn’t even be alive right now.”
“I know,” he nods in soft agreement, taking a small step closer to you. “But we are alive. Hey.” He dips his head as soon as your gaze starts to drift, catching your eyes once more and drawing your attention back to the present with a squeeze of your hand. “We’re alive, right? Be alive with me.”
You take a big breath in and close your eyes, feeling the oxygen fill your lungs once more, but this time, it’s… restorative. A wonderful, beautiful reminder of your existence. You’re alive. Usually the word just feels like a synonym for persevering. Pushing onwards despite trials and tribulations, not looking back. But the way he says it, especially with his hand in yours and a quiet invitation to tag along, it sounds… breathtaking. Full of light, and hope. It suddenly leaves the dim shadows and slides into a completely different category of feelings, feelings you’d never imagine being able to conjure so quickly after such a close brush with death. Alive—it slots right in next to words like colorful, radiant, sunshine, and butterflies. Enchanting words, ones you’d like to hear again and again.
Your eyes slowly open and there he is, the man you were sure was going to accompany you to the afterlife. You were stuck with Poe Dameron in one of the closest calls you can remember, and strangely, his presence was nothing if not… a comfort. For the first time in your life, you were grateful he was there.
You open your mouth, suddenly feeling the needy, unfounded urge to tell him that. “I’m gla—”
“Dameron!” You hear a series of voices call from somewhere to your left, and he immediately drops your hand to whip his body around and place himself directly between you and the approaching onlookers, using his large frame to hide you from their sight.
“What’s up, Briggs?” Dameron projects to one pilot in particular that seems to be leading the group, his back oddly close to you in this position. Your fingers still feel tingly from where he was holding onto them.
A chorus of congratulatory, “Nice flying, Captain!” and the like can be heard floating through the air from beyond his shoulders, before the leader speaks loudly over them. “Hey—me, Seven, Six, and Twelve were gonna grab some drinks in the mess hall with a few of the Blue girls,” he tells Dameron, slowing to a stop as soon as he sees you standing awkwardly behind him. “Oh hey, Goldie.”
You lift a hand and clear the remainder of the dissociation from your throat, not knowing him well enough beyond the squadron he and his group fly with. “Greenies.”
“Anyways, I guess they wanted to know if you’d come too. These idiots are convinced they’re never gonna give us the time of day unless you—”
“Uh—fine, whatever, just give me a few minutes alright?” Dameron quickly assures him with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll meet up with you guys later.”
A few of them take turns giving him heavy claps on the shoulder and acclamatory words before the group eventually disperses, and he waits a few more seconds for their attention to fully scatter in another direction before turning back to you.
Shit, he’s standing really close. Why is he so close to you? You take a step back and blink up at him, the noises of the landing deck gradually amplifying back up to normal volume as you retreat back into your own space. Since when did he have that effect on you? You suddenly feel wide awake, and the chorus of happy chaos surrounding you is something you’re finally able to take in. You knew it was happening before, but it was like it just existed outside of the creeping numbness. Now, the knot of internal turmoil has untied itself a bit and you feel your surroundings start to fight for your direct attention.
Dameron continues to look at you the same exact way, though. Like you’re still the only one here.
You look down at his half-suited figure and blink at the helmet loosely held in one of his hands. Hey. Hey, that’s yours—
“Give me that,” you hiss, suddenly snatching it from his fingertips. “You have people waiting.”
The cutting words serve to snap him out of whatever spell he’s under. Dameron quickly lifts his head and looks around a few times with sharp eyes, before hooking your elbow and twisting you into a complete 180 until your back faces most of the excitement. You resist, immediately trying to push him off you and worried he’s going to confront you about… things, but he’s determined.
He doesn’t say anything to you at all, though. His fingers quickly grasp the baggy fabric of your jumpsuit even as you sputter and start to ask what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, and you glance down just in time to see him yanking the gaping velcro closed at your crotch.
Your cheeks instantly start burning as he tugs and smooths the fabric down until it’s seamless once more, especially when his eyes flick up to yours without moving his head. Fuck, you’re instantly hot with some wicked emotion, a mixture of embarrassment and outrage and… something else. Maker, you almost wish you were numb and disoriented again, if only so you could avoid feeling whatever the fuck this is.
You quite suddenly shove your helmet back into his stomach with an infuriated sound even as he doubles over with a shocked whoosh of air, changing your mind about returning it to the ship yourself before storming off without another word.
***
Okay, so you’ve done some thinking, and. Well. Fuck him, that’s what you’ve decided.
No—not… fuck him. But like, fuck him. You know. In the negative sense of the word. The bad fuck.
There’s a full tray of food sitting in front of you but you’ve so far been unable to touch it. Mostly you’re just wondering why the fuck you’re even here. Well, you know why you’re here—you should eat, it’s dinnertime and this is the mess hall. You’ve been known to skip out on meals after heavy missions, secluding yourself away and just wallowing for a bit, but you… strangely didn’t feel like doing that today. You don’t want to self-isolate when you feel okay enough to avoid it, not again. So you’re here, because the clock says your tummy should want food, but you can’t bring yourself to even look at it.
No, you’re looking at him. Glaring, actually.
Across the mess hall and beyond the transparisteel divider that separates the cafeteria from the bar area, Dameron is all eyebrows and smiles and side nudges and winks right now. You can’t hear him—the sound won’t travel this far, but you can see him situated in the middle of a rowdy group of pilots. He laughs in that disgustingly charming way of his, where his stupidly cute nose scrunches up all cute and stupid and you want to just ask the Maker why he’s doing this shit to you. What have you done to deserve this torture? Sure, you may have willingly agreed to it, even… conceived and propositioned the idea, and sure, absolutely nothing is stopping you from forfeiting and walking away at this exact second, but does that make it okay? No, you’ve decided. It’s not okay. He’s not allowed to… to make you feel like this, so fuck him. In the bad way.
“Just fuck him already,” a voice suddenly grumbles as someone plops down into the seat to your right, plastic trays of food clattering loudly on the table and snapping you out of your reverie. Gold-Sixteen blocks your view as he silently drops into the seat in front of you and wraps his green lekku around his neck a few times before immediately beginning to shovel food into his mouth, while Gold-Three opens her box of blue milk next to you and continues. “The Blues never fucking shut up about it, it’s getting annoying.”
“Don’t listen to her, Dime,” Gold-Eleven tells you, quickly occupying the seat on your left and biting into a crunchy piece of fruit, talking loudly over the chatter even as he chomps. “Rossi just knows her pool is up tomorrow, she doesn’t want to lose any of her precious credits.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Gold-Three immediately snaps, leaning forward and around you to point the prongs of her fork at Eleven threateningly. “Zhang’s pool starts on Sunday.”
“Oh fuck off, you guys are betting on this now?” You groan, shoving your plate away with a flick of your fingers now that you’re certain you’ve completely lost your appetite. Sixteen immediately snatches up one of your bread rolls while Zhang swipes your juice and Rossi goes for a packet of glockaw sauce.
“You’re the one who announced it in front of everybody, we’re just being active spectators,” Rossi returns, ripping the packet and pouring the sauce on her vegetables with a shrug. “How the fuck do you bet against fucking each other though, that’s my question? It’s a paradox, wouldn’t you both just lose at the same time?”
“Dameron and I aren’t going to fuck,” you tell her very slowly and clearly, starting to get a headache. Why is it impossible to avoid this conversation topic, even with an entire Resistance base to roam around in? “Ever. The bet never had anything to do with fucking each other, it’s about not fucking other people.”
“Literally what is the difference?” You hear Rossi ask with her mouth full, but Zhang speaks over her.
“Somebody should probably tell Nine that, she’s the bookie,” he tosses out carelessly, dropping the core of his piece of fruit to his tray before wiping his hands on his jumpsuit. You bury your face in your hands and let out a loud, exhausted sound into your palms, not knowing which response serves to aggravate your already emotionally overloaded ass even more. Nine is the bookie, of fucking course she is. “But hey, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think any of it actually goes outside of Gold, so.”
“I’ve heard the Blues talking about it, but that’s it,” Rossi chimes in while chewing some of her veggies. “Maybe some Reds. Point is everybody else thinks it’s already happening, honestly.”
“What the fuck,” you whisper, using your knuckles to rub at the backs of your eyes until bright spots appear. Where are stress headaches localized? Are those the ones right under your brow bone? Because stars, you feel it. “Fucking… why? Why do people think that me and Dameron are…?”
Nobody at the table immediately responds, and you drop your hands after a moment to look at each of their astounded faces in turn.
“You fucking serious, bitch?” Rossi blurts first, her voice completely deadpan, and you growl in vexation.
“Have I not been vocal enough about my severe dislik—”
“And yet you kicked Nine out of your room to let him bunk with you,” Zhang immediately suggests.
“You request mission assignments together,” Rossi adds.
“Spend your off-days together,” Zhang continues.
“You’re both really weird about how long it takes the other person to shower,” Rossi tacks onto the list Zhang is now making on his fingers and you shake your head frantically.
“No—no, that’s so that we know neither one of us is cheating,” you try to explain, and you already know it sounds unconvincing without needing the two quick, lofty and sarcastic nods on either side of you. “Showers and off-days are prime masturb—no, you know what? No. I’m tired of the assumptions, I don’t owe anyone shit. This is super fucking uncool of you guys, you know that? It’s insane that this is what counts as gossip in the Resistance nowada—”
“There’s only so much bad news people can take, Ten,” Gold-Sixteen grunts down at his almost finished plate, and all three of you snap your gazes across the table at him. The forest-tinted twi’lek doesn’t speak much, it’s uncommon to hear his voice without distortion over the comms, but you blink as his sharp teeth continue to form words without looking at you. “Quit being so sensitive. Rather bet on this shit than which system is getting demolished next.”
And with that, Sixteen excuses himself with a silent nod, having gobbled down his full plate while you, Three, and Eleven were bickering. You feel your cheeks flare with anger and shame—you didn’t deserve that, you immediately reassure yourself, but the hidden self-doubt the comment sows just further contributes to your upset. You want to call out to his back that just because the First Order exists doesn’t mean you have to put up with your own fucking squadron turning you and your mortal enemy into glorified race fathiers, but he’s already leaving the mess hall while Rossi and Zhang have moved on to other topics, both of them continuing to grab more food from your tray as they talk.
You have a tough shell. But today was… a lot. You bite your lip down at the table against the sudden wave of emotion, blinking quickly to clear the weakness watering your vision.
See, this—this right here is why you use last names. These people aren’t your friends. Betting on who you fuck for laughs, using you as a source of entertainment without your consent just because they’re in the middle of a war, and then guilting you into feeling like you’re the one acting like a stuck up bitch about it? You’re fighting in the same fucking war—you’re on the front lines just like everybody else and nobody gets to lecture you on the devastation of battle. You almost died today. You fought tooth and fucking nail to stay alive and by all accounts, you shouldn’t even be sitting here right now, much less dealing with this childish shit. This is your squadron. These people are supposed to be the ones closest to you out of everyone, the ones you’ve been flying into chaos in formation with for years, and yet not a single damn person has even mentioned your performance to you today, all anyone can ever seem to talk about is—ugh.
Unfortunately, your unobstructed view also allows you to look at the source of your bad mood once more, immediately noticing the way more people have crowded around him now, and the headache continues to throb painfully behind your eyeballs. You were in the same ship, does nobody realize that? You were gunning, he was flying—you were offense, he was defense—that’s the only fucking difference, and yet, it’s like that side of the mess hall is just completely lit up with hearty laughter and music playing from someone’s holopad and congratulatory drinks being passed around, while yours is… well.
You continue to fume inwardly, struggling somewhere between bitter and hurt, and you can see your reflection through the transparisteel giving him a death glare, wondering how many of the people surrounding him have made bets with Nine. How many of his little entourage have their money wagered on Dameron getting in your pants by a specific dat—
You stop short while staring at his handsome face, an infuriating, horrifying thought suddenly striking you. No… no, he wouldn’t…
“Does he know?” You immediately interrupt the chitchat between Three and Eleven to ask with a deadly edge in your voice, tipping your forehead at pretty boy. Ooh, you can already feel it burning. It would be so fucking typical. Oooooh, Maker, if he’s heard even a fucking whisper about this outside wagering going on amongst the pilots, you will fucking smother his ass in his sleep tonight. How could he not know? With as many friends as he has? If you’re just being made aware of it, then it’s a given that somebody has to have told him by now, which just means that it’s all the more possible—shit, even more likely—that he’s… participating, too. You do your best to keep your voice even, but you can hear the quiet fury shaking in it. “The bet about when me and him are gonna fuck, does he know about it?”
“Who—Dameron?” Zhang turns his head. “No, I don’t think s—”
“Yeah,” Rossi says at the exact same time, and your blood instantly turns ice cold as Zhang leans around you to blink at her stupidly.
“No. Yeah? What?” He says, sounding genuinely confused.
“Yeah, remember?” Rossi confirms with a shrug. “Nine was mad as all shit, came at me in the rec room a few weeks ag—fucking Maker, Eleven, you were there.”
“Oh,” Zhang suddenly exhales, “yeah, that’s right. Oh, yeah, Dime, he knows.”
You’re—fuck, you’re about to rampage. You’re burning a fucking hole through Dameron while he converses animatedly with his numerous buddies, waving an open hand and shaking his head at someone with a smile and then gesturing broadly to this side of the transparisteel. His pool is probably up soon, you figure. That’s why he came onto you so strong earlier today. He was going to get two weeks of your pay, plus whatever he must’ve offered up to Nine that says he’d get it to happen within a certain amount of time. Perfect, your old roomie and the arch nemesis you stupidly agreed to trade her for, two asshole peas in an asshole pod.
“—she thought I was the one who told him—” You know Rossi is still talking but you’re not actually hearing any of it. Nobody has any fucking idea. Nobody has any idea what he did to you today, how unbelievably close you were to… to actually… “—was all just for fun, but then he had a few choice words for her and told his squad that if any of them had made a—” You don’t know why you’re so surprised honestly, you should’ve expected…
Wait.
“Wait,” you suddenly blurt, and while she shuts up immediately, your mind starts whirling even faster. Dameron had some… what? “Wait. Explain. You’re saying he didn’t…” You slowly shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows and trying to piece it together. “He didn’t… place a bet with her, or anything?”
“What? No,” Rossi shakes her head a lot more forcefully than you, getting frustrated. “No, fucking—didn’t you hear anything I just said, Ten? He got all high and mighty for some stupid reason, totally reamed her ass out for it.”
“But…” You blink, stunned. “But… why? Why would he…?”
Rossi shrugs. “Fuck if I know. All she said was that he ordered Black not to throw in, made her lose a fuckton of money from it. Had no idea Dameron would be so touchy about his sex life, honestly.”
He… he isn’t. He isn’t touchy about his sex life—you feel like he never shuts up about it.
Rossi continues talking, but you’re not listening again. You stare stupidly at yourself in the clear transparisteel as Dameron’s voice comes back to you, repeating something you specifically remember him saying earlier today. Something you thought was just a careless jab at the time, aimed blindly at one of your comrades with nothing more than the intent to piss you off.
…I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half…
You blink beyond your own reflection to focus on him once more, still lost in his own little world, not paying a single lick of attention to you while you’re essentially having a fucking crisis over here. You didn’t think the insult had any real substance to it at all. You just naturally assumed that was the result of him wanting to lash out at anything or anyone remotely close to you, if only to get a reaction, so you never gave him one or paid it any mind.
This is why he said that about Nine? Because he knew she had organized this fucked up betting pool behind your back?
Stars, you need to get out of here, all these rumors are fucking with your head. Your assumptions and the hairpin turnarounds are giving you worse whiplash than Dameron’s… well, admittedly spectacular flying today. You were wrong about wanting to avoid isolating—in fact, that suddenly sounds like a phenomenal idea.
So, you just get up and leave right in the middle of Rossi’s sentence, needing some time alone. Neither of them call out to you as you quickly walk around the table and through the barrier towards the exit, thank the Maker, and you’re just about to retreat with no interruptions until suddenly two Greenies step in front of you and block your path.
You halt immediately, looking up at them with a furrowed brow. “What now?” You grunt, not having the patience to even wait for a response before attempting to squeeze around them.
“Hey, so you really saved our asses out there today, Goldie,” the one on the left quickly sidesteps in front of you and rushes to say, and you settle your weight back on your heels with a huff.
“What are you talking about?” You glance back and forth between them, not recalling a time you’ve ever spoken to either one, before jerking your head to gesture over your shoulder. “Go congratulate trophy boy over there, he was the one flying.”
“We did,” the one on the right tips sideways to look at Dameron behind your shoulder, likely still laughing and joking with someone about something, something super fucking dumb probably. “Well, uh. We tried.”
“What?” You let out a heavy sigh and rub your temples. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? I don’t have the time.”
“He won’t take any credit, just keeps saying that all he did was steer you around,” the other one shrugs as his companion straightens and looks down at you once more. “Wouldn’t accept any drinks we offer him, nothing. So we thought we’d buy you one instead. Unless you’re… leaving?”
It takes you a few seconds to process that, even as he allows the open invitation to hang in the air. You can’t stop the way your torso automatically twists around to study your copilot from across the mess hall in baffled silence, suddenly realizing that they’re… they’re right. Dameron has no congratulatory drinks sitting in front of him even though more and more people have made their way into the bar. He’s just sitting there grinning and nodding along to something someone else is saying, completely and blissfully unaware of the extent to which he’s fucked with you in the past twenty minutes. The past… whole day. Month and a half. Or… fuck, how long have you known him? Two years?
But then Dameron’s gaze gradually drifts this way, before suddenly locking with yours. His eyes flick behind you to look at the two Greenies blocking your exit, and then back to the way you’re staring at him, wide-eyed and startled.
He suddenly stands up and starts to take a few steps towards you, and the sheer abruptness of the movement causes you to react immediately. You stumble your way backwards through the two pilots, feeling a few hands reach out to steady you through the awkward fumbling, but you slap them away and announce loud enough for Dameron to hear beyond them that you’re taking a shower, and you don’t give a fuck how long it’s gonna be this time.
***
The knob squeaks as you turn the water on. Usually you’d step back and wait the grueling five minutes or longer it takes for it to heat up with your arms crossed over your naked chest, but this time you move directly under the freezing spray, hoping to use the ice cold to shock your system.
You're finally alone.
Technically solitude doesn’t really exist within this base. You’ve heard of others that are a little nicer, having a little more room for the ranks, but not here. Housing assignments, showers and restrooms, mess and recreation halls—they’re all communal. Everyone is given rotating shifts, so while that means there’s never any true quiet to be found, it also means that showers are spread out well throughout the day and night.
But, at least for this moment, there’s nobody else around. At least in here, in the tiled chamber with multiple shower heads stationed around you—you’re sure there are a few girls lingering in the locker room and the entry area beyond it, but for right now, you’re blissfully by yourself.
And yet, you can’t seem to enjoy it.
You know you should be basking in the isolation. You should be thrilled at the rarity of only hearing your own flipflops slap against the floor as you turn around and drench your hair with the icy spray, but the lack of an immediate distraction for your focus allows it to wander to things you don’t want it to.
Explosions, mostly. Lighting up like fireworks in front of your eyes even as they flutter closed and let water drip down them. Constant, never-ending. Some of them small—TIEs you shot down, allies drawing fire away from you and then subsequently getting overwhelmed, zipping through dense debris from deadly collisions so quick that you had trouble distinguishing friend from foe. Some of them were massive—star destroyers splitting apart, warp drives overloading, enormous casualty counts. You don’t know how many lives you took today, not directly.
The beginning was the worst—when you were still slightly disoriented, when you were panicked and screaming into the comms for assistance. Then the closest stationed tandem showed up first—Red-Two and Eight, you think it was. Doesn’t matter now. They took some heat off you before the cavalry arrived, but you remember Dameron barking out your name the second their left thruster got nicked and they started spiraling, a ferociously deep, “With me!” cutting through the white noise. It was enough to snap you back, forcing you to instantly flick your eyes away and focus dead ahead without witnessing their demise.
It wouldn’t have normally been necessary. You’ve been flying with the Resistance for years, you’ve seen way too much bloodshed by now. But you’ve never been the catalyst of it—you’ve always been able to confront threats accompanied by your squadron, right between Nine and Eleven, the flight controls rumbling steady under your palms. You’ve never faced down an entire fleet in one single ship. You’ve never had to rely so directly on the skills of another pilot in order to stay alive.
The water slowly heats to a lukewarm while you reach for the shampoo.
Surprisingly, for as much as the two of you clash in normal interactions, it was like everything eventually became… synchronized. Spectacularly so. Dameron started off the enemy confrontation by calling out his flight patterns to give you a chance to adjust your firing in real time, but then at some point, it just stopped being necessary. There was a moment where you both were able to suddenly… get it. Get each other. He didn’t have to say anything after that—you could predict each other without second guessing, react instantaneously, and work your way through the littered battlefield accordingly. You never thought it would be possible to collaborate so well with someone you’ve spent ages despising. Sure, you’d both die if you didn’t—shit, you’d probably still both die regardless—but this kind of teamwork extended beyond the need to survive. It doesn’t matter how much you want to stay alive when reading someone else’s mind is physically impossible, but for some reason… You have no idea why, but it apparently came naturally between you. It fell to pure instinct, pure reaction, and remarkably, his would somehow match yours perfectly, every single time.
You lather the shampoo in your hair, remembering how his voice changed over the course of the mission. How it gradually shifted from panicked roars and barked orders into ecstatic cheers and genuine praise after landing a difficult shot, how he just couldn’t seem to stop whooping.
You smile softly as the tepid water rinses away the dirt and sweat from your body, until the temperature is brought up to a gentle, comfortable warmth raining down you and echoing in the empty shower room.
And, your first name. Dameron kept calling you that, the whole time. The one you’re now absolutely certain you’ve never personally given to him. The one he would’ve had to have listened for specifically. Remembered, or at least asked the right person about. But why? It’s not… it makes no sense, he doesn’t give a shit. He’s notorious for not giving a shit. He can’t even be bothered to remember the names of the girls he’s actually with—so why did he go to the trouble to figure out yours? You’ve been nothing but a thorn in his side the same way he is to you, right?
Right?
Your mind starts recollecting more recent events, trying to work through and process it by yourself. He was… singing your praises today. He was openly giving you credit for the win while you pouted in the corner and assumed the absolute worst of him. As much as you’re frustrated that nobody else seemed to give voice to your contributions, you’re even more surprised that he was the one who did.
And then even earlier. Gold-Nine, holding wagers with members of your squad (and others, apparently) about when you’re going to fuck him. Dameron, tearing her a new one for it, forbidding Black Squadron from throwing in and not attempting to hide his disdain for her from you. He… he defended you. Stood up for you when your own squad was being a bunch of dicks behind your back. And nobody ever fucking mentioned it to you. What did Rossi say—a few weeks ago? He’s known all this time and only today, only after you… openly showed more interest in him than you ever have, after you worked up enough nerve to try in your own little way to flirt back this time instead of responding to his casual comments with contempt and disgust, only today is when he decided to make a real move on you.
…Your mind is completely blank and yet you still feel yourself start to heat up just a bit at even alluding to the events that took place earlier. The way his fingers felt—
Steam begins to fill the open concept chamber while you shake your head against the train of thought and reach for the soap, beginning to circle the bar along your arms and shoulders with a sigh. This is already the longest shower you’ve taken in almost two months, and your body slowly relaxes under the mist and heat as you take forever cleaning yourself, slowly and hypnotically rubbing the soap along your skin.
The second you let your eyelids dip shut at the feeling, you immediately shiver at a flash of Dameron dragging his finger out of his mouth and blinking dark eyes at you through the transparisteel.
Fuck. The soap slips from your hand and you quickly catch it against your body before it falls to the ground completely, suddenly feeling the need to breathe in the misty air a bit harder. Shower, you’re in the shower. Come on.
The dirt and grime is scrubbed from your face and you tilt your head to move the bar of soap across your neck. As it lathers, you can’t help but remember the way his lips felt against the skin right there, the scratch of his beard. You keep working the soap against that same spot for a while, not knowing if you’re trying to wash away the sensation or simulate it, until you gradually slow and make it lighter, softer—yes, that’s closer to how it felt, that’s—
Soon the water is boiling hot and you’re trying not to boil along with it, remembering everything he said against this spot, the filth he whispered to you here. Your pussy starts to throb between your legs as the memories play out in your mind, how close he got you to shattering bliss without even really working for it. If you put it all together collectively, you don’t think he actually touched you for more than a minute or two total today. Mostly he just talked to you, but stars, he hit buttons you didn’t even think you had, had you a split second away from cumming harder than Maker knows while his finger rested just above your clit and provided no stimulation whatsoever.
Fuck, you enjoyed it. You did, you’ll admit it when there’s no one else here but you. You enjoyed the fuck out of it. You wish he’d do it again. Force you to lose, force you to cum so you can at least blame him for it, remove your responsibility from the equation and allow you to put just one more thing on his shoulders, to taste ecstacy instead of expecting you to bear the weight of pretending you don’t need it any longer. He was doing you a favor, you realize that now. Your body is staging a fucking coup and you wish you could’ve called mercy before it got to this agonizing point. He turns you on, you fucking admit it. He inspires violent emotions in you—jealousy, arousal, anger, temptation—thoughts you don’t want to have and consolidating it all into various forms of hatred makes the finer details easier to ignore. Your perception of him has always been skewed by your iron will, but he all but took a fucking sledgehammer to it today, dented it beyond all recognition. You want him, you want to him to take it all away, you want him to fuck you—in the… fuck, in the good way.
You don’t have a thought beyond that. Your hand quickly falls down the length of your body to wash your private parts, biting your lip as your hips slowly start to rock into it. You’re getting clean, you’re getting clean, this is how you clean yourself, this is… yes, as long as you keep the bar of soap pressed between your palm and the top of your curls like this, you’re cleaning yourself and you can just… ease your finger down just a little bit and—
Flipflops suddenly echo from the twisting hallway leading to the tiled freshers, and you immediately snatch your hand back up again, not needing to turn around to know another girl is walking into the room. A knob somewhere to your right eventually makes a dull squeak as you quickly finish washing up and turn your showerhead off, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around yourself.
Maker, you feel like your pussy is plotting your demise. Fuck, you can’t believe you almost cheated in the fucking showers just now where literally anyone could walk in, you thought you would’ve had more self-control than that. You make your way into the changing rooms and grab your pajamas, starting to tug them on without fully drying your body and having only one thought in mind.
Dameron will probably be celebrating late tonight. You can tuck in early, scurry back to your room and cheat there.
Well, no, not cheating, because you clearly remember making a very compelling argument about wet dreams earlier today. Maker, a freebie, the word has never sounded so enticing. What you’d say amounts to a… bye-week orgasm basically, since you know he’s already lost at least one match against his own body and you’re meant to be competing on the same level. It’s only fair to let you persevere through the toughest part of the challenge if he was allowed to throw a game early on and still stay in the competition. Maybe he threw multiple games, you never got a straight answer concerning that, so it’s still under review. He could’ve thrown… three games, even. Or four.
You dress as quickly as possible and then nearly bolt through the entrance area to the restrooms with all the sinks and stalls. The balled up dirty clothes and wet towel in your arms allow you to hide the way your nipples are stiff and tender against your thin pajamas, and you can’t wait to climb into your bunk and take everything off under the covers. You’ll be able to cum, at least once. It’ll relieve so much stress, get rid of this nightmare headache, rip through your body like lightning and paralyze it until you can start over from square one and think like yourself again.
And, you’re just about to power walk your ass back to your quarters when a body nearly slams into yours as soon as you step foot outside the door, your shoulder jerking back just in time to avoid a collision.
A mechanic, you think. You’re not exactly sure, you don’t hang out with too many of them—he’s Chiss and his glowing red eyes don’t even land on you as you gasp and sidestep him at the last second, but it’s not him that catches the majority of your attention. He just exited the men’s room at the same time you left the women’s, and the door takes a moment to swing shut behind him.
You freeze. It can’t be more than a few seconds—but it feels like everything slows down and it lasts a fucking eternity.
Dameron is standing at a sink in the far corner of the room, naked except for a towel identical to the one in your arms wrapped loosely around his waist. He cradles the base of his own throat with one hand and gently drags a razor down the smooth contour of it with the other, his chin tilted up high and regal while his eyelids dip low to concentrate on his movements. He glances down and holds the foamy blade under the running faucet, tapping it twice against porcelain before the door slides him out of frame.
I can shave, a low, silky murmur slowly fills your ears, heat swelling low and hot in your tummy. Tonight, I’ll shave it off. Make it nice and smooth for you.
You feel like your body is just a collection of rigid knots all tied together, and the one between your legs is the tightest it’s ever been. Stars, on another day you’d say it feels like a bad cramp, even though you know your injection makes your period rare and like clockwork. Regardless, the split second image makes you shudder and clamp up painfully, and you just stand there and stare at the closed door for a second, trying not to shake.
Fuck, this is so fucking… presumptuous of him.
Realistically, you know it could have absolutely nothing to do with you. It’s his face—you’re not self-centered enough to have completely lost your concept of autonomy. He can do whatever he wants to his body, and that includes facial hair, full stop. You also know that he’s not being… obvious about it, no matter how much it feels that way to you. He’s using the sink and mirror at the very end of the room, not any of the ones nearest to the door—but even if he was, it’s not like he could’ve planned for you to walk out at the exact moment the metal hinge was angled wide open. He couldn’t possibly have intended for this, for you to see him doing this. He wasn’t making a show, didn’t even notice you standing there. You blame literally everything on him, or at least you always try your absolute best to—but this one…
It sends a hard shudder down your spine and you clutch the fabric in your arms tighter, trying not to drop it. Fuck. This is torture. Fuck him. Good and bad—both ways, all the ways he can be fucked, fuck him. Your head is spinning, you’re sweating fresh out of the shower, you need to cum. Maybe if you hurry, you can get that precious orgasm before he’s finished, because if Dameron is able to intercept you before you can tend to this, you’re… you’re not sure how you’re going to say no to him.
You don’t even think you want to anymore.
You feel like you’re just… holding onto it on principle now. Too stubborn and hardheaded to want change. Too stuck in your own ways to recognize how much everything already has changed.
Somehow, you end up making your way back to your room, but the whole thing is a blur. Your flipflops plap against your heels as you navigate through hallways as quick as you can, emptier than you’ve seen them in months. You know most of the pilots are probably out celebrating in either the mess hall or rec room, but the thought doesn’t really presently register. Almost nothing registers besides your continuous forward motion and the way you feel yourself throb with every step, aching for something you are going to get tonight. Fuck, you are so attached to this orgasm now, it’s not going anywhere and neither are you. You deserve this, you deserve some relief. Come hell or highwater, it’s happening tonight.
As soon as you step into your room and slap your hand blindly against the wall panel to close the door behind you, you’re carelessly dropping the bundle of fabric to the floor and then shrugging out of your pajamas in the cool pitch darkness, having exactly one mission in mind. You don’t bother with lights, with brushing your hair, with literally anything besides clamoring up the ladder to your top bunk and wiggling under the thin bedsheet, making sure to pull it up to your chin before your legs butterfly open. The tip of your finger wets itself on your tongue and then you’re dropping it down and sliding it against your poor clit, the pleasure arcing and flaring so sharp and sensitive even from your touch that you have to give it just a second.
…No, no you don’t. You don’t have to give it fucking anything. You keep moving your finger hard and quick even as your hips naturally want to jerk away from it, shoving yourself through the sensitivity with gritted teeth and a ferocious will.
Fuck, how long do you think you have? Was Dameron shaving pre or post-shower? You can’t remember, all you know is he had a towel around his waist. And that thin gold chain hanging down his neck. Was his hair wet? Fuck, why can’t you remember? His chin and jaw were smooth as silk, you know that much. Post-shower, then. Probably. Probably?
His chin and jaw were smooth as silk. You keep getting stuck on that no matter how chaotically your thoughts whirl; they fling out in different directions at different velocities but all somehow manage to go in a perfect circle and end up at the same place you started. His chin, his jaw, his mouth, his neck, his chin, his mouth, his jaw, his mouth, his mouth, his mouth—
You feel yourself start to clamp down and you speed up, chasing it. The pleasure starts burning deep inside you, the fire slowly licking down your thighs and rising up into your abdomen, and then—
And then a series of quiet beeps from the hallway practically blare like alarm bells to your frantic mind.
You immediately stop moving your finger, snapping your legs tight together and flat to the mattress as soon as the door to your room shifts open and fluorescent light spills inside, and you feel like you could actually fucking cry right now.
All this edging is just a form of self-flagellation at this point. You lay there and try not to make a sound, try not to tremble hard enough to shake the whole bunk with it, but even your breathing feels like it’s going to give you away. Dameron, shirtless with his towel draped over his shoulder, slowly steps into the room and then pauses almost immediately, making your heart stutter for a second at what so blatantly caught his attention.
One quick glance down towards his feet confirms the simultaneous hope and fear—you left everything on the floor. The towel, the dirty clothes, and your pajamas are strewn about haphazardly right where he needs to walk.
You know what it must look like to him. A trail of clothes leading directly to an occupied bed isn’t exactly subtle, even though you didn’t necessarily intend it that way. Still, what can you say? Your hand is shoved in between your legs right now and you’re in your birthday suit under this thin sheet, what the fuck can you say to him? Sorry Dameron, got too caught up with how stupid wet you get me that I left those there on accident on my way to cheat, but totally not because I lowkey want your help doing it. Convincing, that’ll go over great.
Dameron slowly lifts his head to look at you. Or, at least you think he does—the light from the open door behind him casts his body in a dark silhouette, but you know your face is perfectly illuminated for him right now. Blinking down at him from the top bunk with your brows pulled up in the middle, wide-eyed and desperate and caught red-handed. Fuck, you don’t know if he can see the way your knees are clamped tight together and your hand rests perfectly still against your pussy like this from the angle he’s at, but you know it has to be super fucking obvious either way. You’re breaking the rules, you’re touching yourself, and you both know it. You can’t lie, you can’t even sit up without confirming his very valid suspicion. He can call the game at any point, but…
You watch his head fall back down to study the mess you left for him once more. Fuck, are you positive that was an accident? Normally you wouldn’t second guess anything about your own understanding of the interactions that occur between you and him, but—you’ve never done that before. You’ve lived with roommates on this base for years, you don’t just… get naked before getting into bed, that’s bad form. How are you going to get up in the morning without having your pajamas shoved near your feet while you sleep? Wrap this thin bedsheet around yourself and scamper down the ladder until you can snatch them up from the floor, and then what? Climb all the way back up just to wiggle the clothes on underneath the blanket before going back down again? Maker, you fucked up, your pussy is plotting your fucking demise.
But then everything inside you pulls taut as Dameron suddenly decides to move. Slowly, he leans down to catch your orange jumpsuit closest to his feet with a few fingers, before he stands upright and carefully begins folding the fabric without saying a single word to you. Electricity buzzes through you as he very obviously takes his time with it, using nearly his whole armspan to lengthen and fold the sleeves while his chest and chin meet for support. When he’s eventually satisfied with it, he takes a few steps toward the empty desk on your side of the room and then sets the neat rectangle of fabric atop it where you usually keep it.
You bite your lip and you can’t help it—you start to move your finger as he goes back to sort the pajamas you wore for barely two seconds from your dirty clothes, folding and putting away whatever is clean and then tossing the rest into the shared laundry basket that gets collected every week. Somehow it makes you feel even more naked, seeing all your clothes be returned to their proper places, realizing that this is your base state now, this is what you’re going to wear tonight. Nothing. You left everything on the floor and trapped yourself up here, he’s simply shifting a pawn forward two spaces in kind now that you’ve made your first move.
You can feel yourself pulse threateningly against your own fingertip while he collects your wet towel and drapes it over your closet door to dry, and your breath comes louder through your nose while you bite back the noises you want to make, the way your movements so desperately want to speed up. Your hand working the way you want it to under the white sheets would be too much, too revealing, but you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to care.
But then of course, the asshole has to go and put away his towel and clothes, and you endure through the whole thing while pressing back and forth against your clit so hard and slow that your toes curl and pull the sheet tucked under your chin taut. After that’s done, he makes his way over to the portshade above his desk and slowly slides it open a few inches, the light of three moons outside gradually filling the room. However, when Dameron goes back to press a button on the wall panel and close the door to the hallway, you immediately see how much softer it is in here, how the artificial fluorescents have thankfully disappeared and the room illuminates more than it blinds, glows more than it beams. He presses one more button as the lock inside the paneling slides into place.
You bite your bottom lip and try your best to hide the pleasure you’re building for yourself while he makes his way back to his desk, quietly swiping the radio off it and lowering the volume knob completely before he flips it on. The noise slowly amplifies until you’re able to catch two distinct voices conversing in Huttese—it’s the only lingua franca that still broadcasts on this old technology in this part of the galaxy, but he’s already flipping through the stations in search of something specific.
If you were thinking straight, you may have actually recognized this for what it is, but you’re having trouble even processing the details of your general surroundings right now, your mind is lagging and too slow at reading between the lines. Dameron’s doing exactly what he said he would do. He laid it all out earlier for you in the x-wing, telling you exactly what he wanted plain as day, and now he’s checking the whole list off one by one. The shade is open and the room is lit just enough to make him out, the door is locked, and he’s finding something to listen to. Something quiet, and easy.
If you were thinking straight, you’d realize that there’s a much more obvious reason why he shaved his beard—you never told him the truth about how much you liked it. You never tell him the truth. You allow—even encourage him to think the sharp things you say to him are exactly how you feel. He did it because he believed you.
Oh, but you’re not thinking straight. Your thoughts are scattered and the only thing they can agree upon is how good this feels, even as your breathing starts to grow heavier, grow louder underneath the sound of the radio. The thought stays right beneath your consciousness, tugging at your preoccupied mind. You work your finger with just a little more verve now that he’s flipping through the stations, knowing he’s distracted by spinning the dial through intermittent white noise while different voices and songs fill the room for just a second at a time.
Your bed, his voice suddenly echoes through your thoughts, originating from your subconscious but almost sounding like it’s coming from the radio in your delirious mind. I want you comfortable.
Fuck, the understanding finally clicks the second he flips to a slower song and you start to burn at the thought of what’s next. The silent promise that his actions allude to. You have the realization way too late but at least it still comes at all with the state you’re in. Your hand slows down immediately, not even needing to consciously consider the choice between achieving orgasm through your finger or his mouth. Still, it’s hard to stop touching yourself completely when it feels so fucking good to your deprived body.
Fuck, it’s barely been a few seconds since your realization and yet you immediately bristle in distress at how fucking long he’s taking.
So you open your mouth. You’re desperate and needy and on the verge of something, and it comes out without thought. You don’t think it’s loud enough for him to hear, but his head immediately lifts and looks unseeingly at the wall in front of him for a second, as if he’s questioning if he imagined it. A soft melody plays on a bluesy guitar while you hiccup and wait, but he doesn’t move.
And then you say it again, higher and tighter in your throat, pitched up to an impatient, girlish whine. “Poe…”
The radio is tossed onto the bottom bunk as soon as he spins around and walks towards the ladder, but it’s like your finger has a mind of its own the moment he disappears underneath your line of sight. Your legs spasm against the mattress and you bite your lip, not caring about the frantic way your hand begins moving under the sheet as his muted footsteps climb up the rungs.
Your eyes snap to his as soon as you can see him beyond the railing at your feet, heaving himself up until everything above his waist is above you, too. His pauses there and his lashes quickly dip to the shameless movements between your legs as you work yourself towards that approaching bliss, and then flick back to the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him so torn, wanting so badly to wait for it but not being able to right now.
Slowly, he begins to move forward, crawling his way up the mattress and over your body, noticeably careful with where he places his limbs. You’re not hard to dodge, though—you’re like a rigid stick of desperation under him, knees and ankles still clamped tight together and your arms streamlined as close to your body as possible with tension as you keep rubbing your clit. Not to mention the sheet is thin and shows your figure almost perfectly with how tight you’ve hooked it under your chin, only leaving the finest details to the imagination.
But then there starts to be a little strain against the fabric, an unspoken question he’s still bothering to ask even though you could’ve told him to fuck off ages ago. Poe could yank the sheet down and flip your shit over and destroy you right now if he wanted—fuck, like you want him to do—but his face slowly appears in front of yours instead and his dark eyes search your features for answers. The length of his chain dangles from his muscular neck and glows against his golden skin, his whole upper body stretched long and bare over you.
From the gradually increasing tightness pulling on the fabric, you expect the sheet to rip down your body as soon as you lift your chin and let that resistance go, but instead… stars, it’s slow. Why is he going so fucking slow?? The bedsheet barely flutters down to your collarbone before he’s able to stop tugging on it so hard, and then he just gently inches the hem down from that point on.
Fuck—your eyes drop to his lips as he eventually reveals your shoulders and sternum to the room, and then lower to your cleavage while you let out a hushed whimper, praying he understands the extent of how vulnerable you’re allowing yourself to be. You don’t do this often—and you definitely don’t do it with someone like him. He’s the one who said you needed this, isn't he? So why the fuck is he dragging out the anticipation? Pretending like he doesn’t see the way you’re begging for help in the middle of another warzone that’s breaking out for the second time today?
Poe’s head drops down to give the contour of your neck a long drag of his tongue, slow and hot and wet, the sheet eventually dropping beneath your nipples and exposing them to the cool air. You bite your lip and keep working yourself under the fabric even as it’s led down the length of your tummy, and you just get wetter and wetter feeling him mouth at your skin as the radio continues to play soft from the bottom bunk. He follows the skin as it’s revealed, licking down from your collarbone and working with the increasing rate of your breathing. His lips never feel like they vary in pressure, even as your chest heaves up and down and your lungs work hard for air.
His open mouth slowly drags down the curve of your breast and it makes your blood burn fire through your veins. You nearly choke when your nipple is enveloped in soft heat, his tongue quickly fluttering up under the stiff peak and giving it to you so gently, contrasting so light and vernal with how brilliant and neon bright the need between your legs is. Your hand starts to work quicker, and fuck—you can hear it now, your desperate movements audible over the shallow breaths and the sound of one song gradually fading into another below you. You’re just too fucking wet and your pussy is smushed with how tight your legs are pressed together—the noise is unavoidable, and Poe’s knees are planted too close to either side of your thighs to spread them really at all.
Fuck, you knock against the resistance regardless to let him know what you want, but he doesn’t budge and it makes you just about lose your damn mind. Does he have to make everything so fucking difficult? You couldn’t close your legs earlier and now you can’t open them, and it’s like he’s able to take perfect advantage of each opposing position to prolong your torture.
But then his tongue leaves you even as his jaw opens just slightly, and that’s the only warning you get before his teeth graze your nipple with a sudden arc of sensation and you flare up all at once.
It’s a miracle and a curse that you’re able to stop at the very last second, your hand jerking away from your pussy and flexing into a fucking death claw on your thigh at how close you were, and you don’t know why. Why did the fuck did you stop? There’s nothing standing in your way right now, you’ve consciously given yourself express permission to cum, but still. It must just be learned instinct at this point—hammered into your muscle memory for weeks on end to not allow the pleasure no matter what, especially when you’re this fucking close to it.
Nonetheless you garble out nonsense and cinch inwards on yourself to fight it off now that you’ve apparently decided against it. There’s nothing worse than a half-assed orgasm, and you have to quickly summon the conviction behind your split second reaction before it’s too late and your body takes the pleasure any way it can get it.
Poe’s mouth releases your nipple at the way your whole spine suddenly hunches in and he drops his forehead to your chest, breathing heavy down the slope of your breast as you tremble and grapple for your sanity.
“Did you just cum?” Is the first thing he says to you, his voice is so ragged and stony it’s practically gravel crunching as he speaks.
“N-n-no,” you quickly stammer at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe correctly. Inhale, exhale—fuck, which one is inhale again, which one comes first? Maker, does he need to call a fucking medic? “Huhhhhalmost?”
Poe takes a deep breath and slowly releases it with a bassy and warm mmmm rumbling against your skin, so coarse but pleased enough to sound like melted chocolate dripping down your body. The noise sends a violent shudder through you and it’s almost enough to knock you back to that edge again, even without your fingers assisting it.
His head dips and the sheet pulls down even more, just below your belly button now, and you let out a quiet gasp in anticipation, nearly on the verge of begging him to keep moving downwards. But when Poe’s eyes close and his mouth suddenly moves back up to open over your other nipple instead, your patience snaps.
Fuck him, bad way. This is your orgasm, you’re done waiting.
“I’m gonna cum,” you snarl furiously down at him, shoving your hand between your legs even as Poe’s lips quirk against your skin. It’s not a warning, it’s a threat. If he’s gonna be like this, he doesn’t get to share it with you. It’s your orgasm, you’ll give it to yourself if he doesn’t give a shit about it. “Thought you wanted it, guess not.”
You immediately feel his teeth again in response to your admittedly slightly bitchy comment and this time he lets your nipple roll just a bit between them, making you jerk at the sensation and quickly find your clit again. Oh, you’re soaking fucking wet, you’re wet everywhere. Slick and swollen and burning, and it’s not going to take much at all. The sheet sticks to your overheated body and you can’t tell the difference between your sweat, his saliva, or wetness from between your legs—it all just feels damp and slippery as you gradually lose your bearings under his mouth.
“Fuck this, I’m gonna cum,” you breathe once more, possibly nothing more than a mindless reiteration but most likely just one last veiled plea for him to give you what you both want. As if he can tell, Poe quickly lifts his mouth and suddenly the sheet is ripped the rest of the way down your naked body completely, sharp and frustrated, and then his lips brush against your elbow as it twitches, nipping the sensitive skin there.
“Brat,” he growls quietly against your forearm as he keeps dragging his lips down further, following the path it makes along your tummy. “Just likes making shit difficult.”
“You’re the one—” you hiccup, trying to sound angry but just melting into a puddle at the tip of his tongue slowly trailing down your frantically moving wrist, “—you’re the… the o-one who… who…?”
But you’re already sprinting towards that edge, feeling him drop even lower and his hot breath fan against your fingers, and at this point you’re too far gone. Poe gently kisses at your closed thighs, in perfect position and ready for you, but you can’t stop yourself anymore unless he makes you stop, and the longer he waits down there without grabbing your hand to replace it with something better the more you don’t give a shit about whether or not it’s going to happen. You can feel the orgasm rising, you can feel your toes flex and everything start to lock down for the approaching tsunami. You’re going to get it this time, you’re going to cum, you’re going to—
“This is—” you rasp, “—this is a f-free, a fffff-ffreeeeb—”
His tongue softly grazes your knuckle as it works.
And then there’s a moment. A suspended moment that seems to go on forever, where you’re launched directly over that cliff and yet you still seem to be gaining altitude. Where’s the drop? You’re already cumming—you can feel it, there’s absolutely no fucking going back now, but it’s like your sheer desperation has so much momentum that your body tricks itself into believing there’s nothing to land on, no gravity to immediately rip you straight down to your demise.
You choke out his name and your back arches with it and that must be the signal, because Poe finally pulls your hand away and lets his chin dip, and then his jaw falls open and allows you just enough time to catch the glimmer of his pink tongue before it slides wet and slow through your swollen folds.
Heat. It sears through your whole body with a wracked shudder, the slick glide over your clit as his eyes flutter closed, and within the very first second of feeling his mouth on you, you’re instantly cumming inside it.
There. There’s the drop.
The burning erupts into molten chaos, crumpling your whole body on impact like an accordion, but he sinks all his weight down on your legs and forces you to endure it with everything below your waist pinned to the mattress. It’s fucking mayhem. You feel like your voice actually rips itself in half with the ragged cry of blinding relief, so enormous and soul wrenching in power that you couldn’t even hope to muffle it. You can’t move your hips through it, you can’t stutter up to ride it out—you have to experience the whole thing with your lower body completely still while his tongue takes slow, gentle licks at your throbbing clit, only able to sit your shoulders up and slam them back down and grab his head as you endure.
You cum hard. Fucking hard. It’s daunting and explosive and utterly devastating in the havoc it wreaks, and just when you think you’ve seen the worst of it, it’s just so slow. Creeping along and obliterating everything in its path, taking an eternity to pass because of how fucking big it is.
When you’re finally able to float back down into your own body again, the first thing you notice is how tight his hold is. Poe’s arms are wrapped around your thighs to keep them pressed tight together and you can feel the wetness all the way down to your fucking knees as they tremble against each other. Stars, what did he do to you? You feel like you actually wet yourself, there’s way too much dampness on the mattress underneath you to feel anywhere close to normal for you.
His mouth eventually leaves you but his head doesn’t move, nothing else moves. Even his hot breath feels like rough stimulation to your throbbing pussy.
And then Poe shifts and adjusts his body just enough, catching the backs of your knees and slowly spreading your legs up and apart like you wanted to do ages ago. They feel like jelly, wobbly and unsteady even as his thumbs hook right under your knees and easily support most of their weight. Your pussy is soon exposed completely, and his shoulders move down just before his head drops to lick the collection of wetness right from your entrance. Fuck, he couldn’t get it from the previous angle your legs were at, just your clit at the very top—but this is deep and personal and you know he’s probably getting mouthfuls of how hard he just made you cum, using the tip of his tongue to scoop your arousal up and swallowing it quietly before going back for more.
“Poe,” you whisper, and he rumbles low in his throat in response without stopping. This isn’t for you, this isn’t for your benefit right now. Your pleasure receptors aren’t concentrated right here, just the physical evidence of them being overloaded just a few moments ago, but he stays for longer than necessary. He keeps his mouth here far longer than you need to push past the throbbing sensitivity and start to crave the sensation again, forcing you to bite your lip to stop yourself from telling him to move back up just a couple inches.
So you seek it out instead, the lower part of your body clearly not listening to a damn thing your mind tells it right now. Your hips drop and his velvet tongue catches your clit at the apex of its repetitive motion, and you gasp and rock upwards again as Poe groans and immediately rises with you to chase it. He attaches to the swollen flesh and sucks at it gently for you, following your lead, letting your wet fingers comb his hair back from his face and clutch a good fistful of it as you plant your feet and slowly grind up into his mouth.
Fuck. He was right. You needed this. Everything about it is heaven—endorphins pour off you in waves as you roll your hips against his face, and he lets you do it. He’s not just pliant, he’s willing. His tongue works diligently, his eyes close and he moans into your pussy, allowing you to tug his hair and fit to his mouth exactly how you want.
Oh, everything burns. Everything smolders and sparks, because he’s always been so withholding and now he’s just going for it. He’s reading your mind better than he did during the battle today, not necessarily submissive in his approach but… servicing. Accommodating. Finally giving in and putting real effort into helping you chase after another shot of ecstasy without being so stingy about it like before.
As soon as you feel another familiar swell of something deep down, your mouth is suddenly dropping open.
“How many—” your ragged voice comes out without thinking, and it takes so fucking long to actually attach the train of thought to its conduit of translation. You swallow thickly and flex your fingers in his hair, tugging at him to ground yourself, trying to anchor yourself to the very thing that’s about to fling you into oblivion again. “—fuck, how many times did you… how many fr-freebies do I—do I…”
Poe eases his chin back just enough to respond, and the slick sound his tongue makes leaving your clit makes you shudder and miss the wretched words at first. “Mm. Just the one.”
And then his tongue is already sliding back through your pussy by the time your eyes pop open in immediate panic, and your clit is in his mouth again as soon as yours drops to frantically contest.
But the words aren’t coming, it feels too fucking amazing. Your jaw goes slack and your fingers tighten in his hair. Maker almighty, the orgasm swells up so sharp and quick that you have to fucking kick him at the very last second to get away from it. Thankfully Poe’s mouth abruptly leaves you with his oof of shock at your audacity, lifting his head as you snap your legs together and grit your teeth through your miserable retreat from ecstasy. You don’t even notice the way your knee almost knocks into his jaw with it—you just focus on shamefully easing your way back down again from the platform overlooking bliss like you’re too afraid of the high-dive. After a second, you actually have to turn on your side and rock yourself like a child as Poe slowly sits up with a grimace, lifting his arm to rub at his ribcage where your heel slammed into him.
You peek an eye open to watch him do it and oh no, it’s not a good plan. He’s so… fucking hot. Fuck. He’s unbelievably good-looking—his hair curls and frames such handsome features, his body is lovely and warm and seeing his chest bare and up close like this makes you want to reach out and slowly drag your hand down the smooth curve of his side. But then your gaze catches on the dark sweatpants tented shamelessly between his legs and how he’s glistening with perspiration, too, and how he tugs at the fabric covering his crotch and sighs softly, blinking down at you slow and intoxicated with lust.
You have to close your eyes and bury your face into the pillow because your body is latching onto anything to keep you within inches of that edge. The mere sight of him is enough to make you worry for yourself. You take deep breaths and do your best to tune his existence out entirely. Just you, just you in your bed, trying desperately not to cum without even touching yourself. You’re naked and curled up and there's no one here to look down at you with deep brown eyes, no one else breathing and especially not equally as loud as you are. Just you, just you.
And, just when you think you might finally get to the point where you’re not teetering anymore, where you’re at least mostly certain that moving around and looking at things and just existing in general isn’t going to make you completely unravel hands-free at any moment, he has to fucking… go and be himself.
You peek up to see him staring down at you, dark and intimate and devouring, before his hand gently brushes down the curve of your hip. “Maker, you are so fucking hot right now. Was that a close one, pretty baby?”
Your hand snaps out to grab his wrist with a whimper and you don’t know if your intent is to stop him or just hang on for dear life, but your grip is weak and you shake and Poe takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass while you do absolutely fuck all to stop him.
“Mmmm. Open your legs,” he murmurs, releasing your flesh just to give it a soft smack. “You’re only making it worse like this.”
“What? W-What do you—” you stammer, but Poe drags his hand down your thigh to catch one of your knees and pull it up without waiting for your babbled reply. Both knees go with him, your pelvis wound too tight and frozen to do anything but rotate your whole entire body on your tailbone.
“You’re just adding more pressure by keeping them closed,” he explains, wiggling his fingers in between your knees to try and get enough of a grip to pry them apart. “C’mon—open your legs, let yourself breathe.”
“Nnnnnnstop talking,” you groan, trying to slap at him, but he’s strong enough to force the movement regardless, levering your knees apart and then pushing them tight to the mattress. And, though he would normally be right about it, you’re fighting your mind to get away from the orgasm just as much as you are your body. The sudden exposure and the positioning and the way he automatically drops his gaze down at your needy pussy with his cock still hidden in his pants like that only serves to displace the cause instead of eliminating the effect. Closing the door and opening a window, shifting the stimulation somewhere else but allowing it to throb steady and aching regardless.
“Much better,” he sighs lowly, digging his fingers into the sore muscles inside your thighs and you just keep your hands loosely attached to his wrists as he works. “Fuck me, baby’s got such a pretty pussy doesn’t she?”
“Poe,” you wheeze up at him, hearing him rumble at the sight of your cunt contracting around nothing, probably shining and glistening with your desperation for him. By this point, you’re worrying again. You have no doubt whatsoever that he could talk you into cumming just like this, with your hands trembling and clutching at his wrists. If he keeps murmuring filth while holding your legs open and staring at your pussy like this, you have no doubt you’ll find a way to get there somehow.
Thankfully, he seems to understand. He goes quiet and just keeps massaging your sore muscles while you try not to writhe underneath him. Stars, it’s like he’s genuinely doing what he can to take it easy on you and you’re still all kinds of fucked up about it, still frantic and desperate while all he’s doing is just squeezing your legs.
“Calm down,” he gruffs, but you can’t. “You’re working yourself up, don’t—”
“Stop talki—” your ragged growl is cut off by your own hiccup as you quickly find the strength to shove at his hands, knowing they’re at least mostly to blame for your prolonged tightrope walk. You can’t fucking think when he’s touching you, you become too hyper-aware of your own body, it feels too good in a way that’s hard to describe and impossible to explain. Poe’s palms immediately listen and raise in front of him in surrender, his back lifting to give you space while you hide your face from him with shaky hands and gasp. It’s pathetic and your legs are still held wide open and your fingers tremble hard enough to resemble a malfunction.
You just. You need a hard reset. You need that thirty seconds of complete idle, of figuring shit out on your own without an electric current running through you before you can start working properly again. It can’t be rushed, it’s necessary when most people just want to power down and then right back up again. The wires connecting your parts are all criss-crossed and tangled and sparks are lighting up at the slightest stimulus, you just need to experience absolutely nothing for thir—
“I’m sorry,” Poe murmurs, still staying in his own space but the gravelly voice shooting a bolt of lightning down your spine. Thirty seconds, of course he couldn’t give you thirty fucking seconds. “Fuck, you’re so hot, I’m sorry—”
“Please stop talking,” you beg him, your fingers curling against your face, “Maker, I—I don’t want to cum—”
“Fuck, I know, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucki—”
You go to kick him again and even though it collides wrong and does nothing more than get your message across, the jostle is enough to knock you back from the approaching oblivion just slightly. It serves to wake you up way more than it remotely hurts him, the equivalent of someone just smacking a piece of machinery and fixing the problem temporarily.
You heave an enormous breath and blink your eyes open behind your fingers, immediately locking with his. Poe’s teeth are digging into his bottom lip but he’s mercifully silent, even when you drop your shaky hands down to your spread thighs and stay equally silent another full minute while you make the effort to right yourself. After awhile though, you realize he must be taking cues from you, waiting for you to speak.
Only, you suddenly don’t know what to say. You’re at a complete loss, looking up at him through your eyelashes in uncertainty now. Something you’ve never been around him, even as your pussy is wide open for him to look at. He hasn’t recently, though, you don’t think. He’s just keeping his eyes on your face, watching you bite your lip and blink up at him while your mind whirls, the only sound that can be heard is the radio continuing to lull from the bottom bunk.
You wish he’d say something. How come he’s choosing right now to listen to what you tell him to do? You don’t… you don’t know what to say to him. Why can’t you figure out something? You fidget but then suddenly feel your expression lose all its struggle and just look… innocent. Needing his help.
“Do you want me to leave?” Poe eventually asks after another moment, tentative of breaking the silence, and you frantically shake your head before he’s even finished speaking. Fuck, something drops in your stomach at how desperate you’re probably coming off right now, but you’re so lost and you know that’s at least one question you know the immediate answer to.
Poe tilts his head thoughtfully, slowly reaching a hand towards your thigh without removing his eyes from yours. “Want me to make you cum again?”
You shake your head again, wide-eyed and worried. He immediately pulls his hand back and blinks slowly at you.
“You want to be edged more?” He asks lowly, and you shake your head vehemently for the third time. Poe sighs and sits back, planting his palms to his thighs and pulling at the fabric of his pants in budding frustration, clearly tired of playing twenty questions. “Well what do you want, baby? You wanna just hang out? That’s fine, I don’t care, but you gotta tell me.”
Fuck, he’s right, what do you want? The only thing that’s standing in your way of feeling better, you soon realize.
“Want you to cum first,” you mumble, cheeks warming at how childish you sound.
“Not a fucking chance,” Poe immediately scoffs, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “And pouting at me isn’t gonna help.”
“Why not?” You breathe, dipping your gaze down his body. “I can use my mouth.”
“I don’t—” he stops short, suddenly registering what you said and switching gears. “You can—?” Poe narrows his eyebrows and looks suspicious. “You’ll let me… cum in it?”
“Okay,” you whisper in breathless agreement, sitting up and reaching for him, but Poe groans and pushes you back down on the mattress with a flattened palm against your shoulder like you just aced a test he was hoping you’d fail.
“Fuck whoever’s idea this was,” he grits darkly to himself while you arch up against his hold, wanting him to grab your tits but knowing it’s not a good idea right now. “Maker, I’m so fucking hard—fuck whoever’s idea this was, making me turn that down—”
“You said,” you pant, licking your dry lips and blinking up at the ceiling, trying to control yourself, “before, you said that you’re… you’re not doing this for a bet, right? So why not?” Your voice goes softer when you flutter your gaze back at him, even though the accusation feels like it should be sharper if anything, since it comes from a very real place of distrust. “Were you just… lying to me about that?”
“Fuck, come on,” Poe groans, his voice starting to waver as he shakes his head and squints one eye at you, exasperated. “You don’t get it. You can’t think of a single fucking reason I don’t wanna blow my load just yet? Really?”
The sentence coupled with his rock solid hold on you skitters a thrill through your body and you automatically reach up to run your hand along his forearm. He looks down at the caress and then back to your face and fuck, even you feel like you’re sending mixed signals right now.
“You could… fuck me,” you whisper, and Poe’s dark eyebrows pull up as his gaze falls down your naked body, nodding and digging his teeth into his bottom lip. An agreement backed by so much unspoken desire that it looks like it almost hurts him just to hear you say it out loud. “And we can just… see who cums first.”
“Yeah?” He croaks, his eyes pinned between your open legs. “Just say fuck it all and race for last place? Okay.”
Your heart pounds, having just enough wherewithal to preemptively establish a safety net for yourself. “And—and we can’t finish at the same time or we both lose.”
“Fuck,” Poe groans, reaching down to catch the hem of his sweatpants with his thumb and lifting his hips until his cock is exposed to the dim room. “We can’t stop once we start, then, we’ll have to see it through.”
Except you don’t catch any of the last part because, uh. Well, to sum up. May the Maker have mercy on you all.
Just like that, the only thought in your mind is… you get it. Okay, you get it. He told you before that girls were only interested in him for his cock, and it actually… stars, it makes so much fucking sense now, you totally get it. You thought maybe he was just boasting as a form of overcompensation at first—or, to put it another way you’ve probably used in conversation with him before, talking big talk but walking small walk. Only now, you’re… humbled. By a fucking dick, you’re humbled.
You haven’t seen more than a few of them in this context, so you know you’re not necessarily qualified to give an informed opinion, but heavens it’s a sight. It’s thick and swollen and just a shade darker than his complexion and everything inside you rockets to attention as soon as he wraps his hand around it. It’s big. It fills his whole palm without much room to spare. Far larger than what you’re used to, and you know that no matter how he fucks you with it, you’re gonna feel it tomorrow. Next weekend, probably.
Your eyes must betray you, because Poe suddenly loosens his grip and breathes your name softly, causing you to flick your eyes back up to his. You didn’t realize you were staring so openly.
“I’ll go slow,” he reassures you quietly, voice gentle and knowing. The complete lack of sarcasm or aggression in his tone is enough to snap you back to yourself, knowing that can’t possibly be right. He’s talking to you like he did when you stumbled your ass out of the x-wing today, when you were barely responsive and lost in dumb shock. He doesn’t have to… be nice to you right now, like you’re still only moments away from losing it. It’s offensive.
“I can handle it,” you harumph, widening your legs while Poe immediately suppresses a grin.
“'Course you can,” he sighs with the slightest note of fondness creeping into his voice, dropping his hips as he lines up at your entrance. “And I’ll go slow anyways.”
You open your mouth to respond but at the first push of his head inside, you inhale sharply and your palm immediately shoots out to press against his chest on complete instinct. The stab of pain is impossible to mask from your features and Poe instantly stops with a shaky breath, watching how your jaw drops at the intrusion and your face contorts.
“Ahh. Shit…” he whispers as his head tips down, dark eyes clamping shut and his hold on you tightening. “What—shit, what the fuck…”
“Keep going,” you growl out, even though you know you’re just making it more difficult on yourself. You can take Poe’s cock, you can take it, he has absolutely nothing to brag about, it’s completely normal-sized—
His hips inch forwards and you gasp at the excruciating arc of sensation, slapping at him harder.
“Keep going,” you babble while locking your elbows and shoving him back, “fuck, keep going, keep going—”
“Baby,” Poe groans, wrenching one of your hands from his chest and bringing your wrist up to his mouth to kiss and breathe hot air on it, “baby, you gotta let me—”
He moves a little more and you cry out, jerking your hand back from his lips and knocking it hard against his chest before you even realize it. Oh shit, you can’t handle it, you haven’t been fucked in so long—
“I’m sorry,” you choke out, trying to be nicer by flattening your palm but then immediately digging your nails in, “fuck, I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s been awhile since I—”
“Shit, I can tell,” he pants brokenly, his fingers dropping back down to flex hard on your hip. “Hoooolyfuck, I can te—ah, fuck, it’s alright, it’s alright, just—nnnnnnshit, okay, just relax, don’t tense up too muuuh… much—”
His cock pushes deeper even as he keeps rambling through it and you feel yourself being rearranged to make room for the slow movement, giving way to a rich pleasure even as the discomfort increases.
Poe stops once more when your hands shove up against him, somehow simultaneously shakier and firmer than all the other times put together and a little more than half of him inside you at this point. You’re so slick and hot between your legs that there’s no resistance besides the stretch, nothing to stop him from slamming home besides your weak hands trembling at his collarbone, but everything about the way he stays completely frozen for ages says he’s controlled and patient.
Everything except his face, you soon realize.
When your body is finally able to come to terms with the sensation and you blink up at him, Poe isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s staring directly over your head at the wall, tangible regret manifesting itself in seething frustration marring his expression. His eyebrows furrow and he scowls but all of it is silent and directed at himself, as if he’s asking why the fuck he actually agreed to do this. You know then that it must be really fucking wet. You know then that you must be just blazing hot and tighter than sin and as if in rhythmic agreement, his cock jumps inside you with each pounding rush of blood through it. You can see the sweat beading at his hairline as he continues to ignore you for the moment, choosing instead to silently lament at the wall like it did something to mortally betray him.
You could… make this a sprint, something devious suddenly whispers to you. He’s struggling through the pleasure and you can outlast. From the severity of that look alone, you can put an end to it before it even starts.
Admittedly, you don’t even let the devil finish his damn sentence before you decide to take your own initiative. You clamp down around him as hard as you can and Poe whips his attention down to you and punches out a curse that sounds like you wrenched the word from his throat before he was anywhere near ready for it. It comes from somewhere high and defenseless in register and then quickly falls down into a growly pit as his hips automatically lurch forwards the rest of the way inside, hard, smacking into yours as you squeeze wickedly around him.
You keep squeezing through the sudden upward shove of bliss, you keep tightening up even though you’re making agonizing noises and your eyes clamp shut and it hurts. But stars, it feels good, why does it feel so good when it hurts so bad? It makes your throat scrape and your face twist up, but you can hear his cursing getting louder and more desperate so you still don’t relax your viselike hold around him.
“Stop it—” he snarls down at you rabidly, “—oh fuck, stop or you’ll make us both cu—”
Shit, he’s right. You know he’s never been more right about anything as soon as his hips stutter and kick up to a full blown gallop in the middle of his furious scolding, and the sudden build of ecstasy is so fast and intense that you sob his name, not being able to loosen your muscles anymore as soon as it overtakes you. But it’s like a closed circuit, you’re both recycling the same pleasure without knowing how to shut it off. The harder you bear down on him, the faster his hips work, the vicious cycle compounding and circling and manifesting in the perfect typhoon within just a few tumultuous seconds.
But then suddenly he rips himself out of you with a gasp and it’s not a moment too soon, because both of you have to scramble and grab onto things to brace yourselves through the worst of it. You choose the mattress and he chooses the railing, and through the searing discomfort and settling of the chaos that’s becoming more and more familiar to you as this exhausting day passes, you know you fucked up. You underestimate his self control, time and time again. But, exactly like earlier today, you feel a thrill skitter up your spine at how he’s going to respond to your brazen treachery in the face of a newly established truce.
“Fuck,” he jerks his head to spit the obscenity at you, sounding more pissed off than you’ve ever heard him, the shredded anger in his voice starting to burn through you. “Fuckfuckfuuuuck—you make me so mad. You make me so mad. I wish I could fuck you right now, on Maker, I’d ruin you. I’d wreck your shit until you learn and you’d deserve every single fucking second of it, you—”
He stops short and growls jagged sharp in frustration, but you can’t help yourself.
“Say it,” you whimper on a dare, feeling your heart pound. The words quiver with an inexplicable sort of excitement as you dig your fingers into the mattress, wanting to hear his voice snarl the mysterious profanity. “Say it. ‘You…’—what? Say it.”
Shock suddenly paints his previously tense expression blank, even though his pupils blow out and his chest heaves. Your voice is too breathless, it’s too needy to sound nearly as antagonistic as you want.
And then Maker, it’s as if the sheer control he’s clinging to serves to spark his vexation even more. Mad that you would ask for something so enticing at a moment like this. Your heart thunders as Poe nearly flashes up close to you and points a threatening finger at you.
“You’re not going to get what you want from me,” he snaps, quiet and furious. “Not tonight. I don’t give a shit, I told you I’d slow fuck you and now I’m gonna do it until you act right.”
“You’re an asshole—” you move to lift up onto your elbows, but his hand suddenly plants against your clavicle and shoves you back down flat on the mattress.
“Not even ten minutes after I make you cum and you’ve already got a fucking attitude problem again,” he shoots back, positioning his cock at your entrance with his other hand once more, and Maker you’re drowning between your legs. His sharp rebuttal and the firm hold on the upper part of your chest makes it that much wetter, knowing you can’t do much more than lift your legs the way you need when he eases his way back inside.
“P-Poe—” you gasp breathlessly, but it's like he doesn’t hear you.
His expression tenses and he shudders out a low growl. “Fuck. Tight little baby. Rude little baby, just wants everything her way but doesn’t know how to behave herself.”
You have to bite your lip hard to hold back a whine when he’s completely sheathed and his hips connect to yours, and… shit. You already feel it. You already feel that simmering starting to take hold deep down once more, that monstrous second orgasm you’ve been fighting now digging its claws into you and licking the base of your spine with fire. And, as if he can tell, his demeanor instantly changes.
“Uh, oh,” Poe murmurs quietly, equal parts lilting and baiting, slowly dragging his cock out and then starting up the laziest pace you’ve ever experienced with his hand still planted high on your sternum right below your collarbone. “Can you feel it coming? Fuck, I can,” he shudders. “Already. Fuck, you’re so wet, you’re so wet—wish you had let me eat you out mor—”
“You can’t c—umm,” you hiccup, grasping his wrist and writhing through the building ecstasy, and you don’t know who you’re talking to at this point. Your other palm slaps at his shoulder with increasing urgency—fuck, he’s been fucking you for barely ten seconds and you’re already struggling to hold everything back. Only, his hand quickly grabs yours and pins it to the mattress, his face dropping closer as he rolls his hips achingly slow. You feel his back working with the steady pace, you see his neck flex as his cock drags so thick inside you, and then your gaze starts to lose focus a bit. It slides up his throat as lazily as he’s augmenting your pleasure, following the contour of his smooth skin until it reaches his face.
And mercy, Poe’s tongue comes out to wet his lips and a dark curl hangs down his forehead, concentrating hard on fucking you steadily without giving into the same creeping euphoria you’re feeling, and you have to turn away and bite back a whimper at the metal railing when the image starts to burn you alive.
“No,” Poe gruffs and his hand slides up a few inches to frame your jaw, twisting until you face him directly once more. “Right here, you stay right here with me.”
Your eyebrows pull up weakly and your eyes flick across his stunning features, the way he’s so present, so focused and determined while you’re starting to drift. His skin is so smooth, so golden when his jawline used to be dark, and—
“I—” you choke, starting to lose it, “—I-I…”
“What is it, baby?” Poe growls, staring down at you with unwavering, intense concentration. “Tell me. You gonna cum?”
“I…” you whimper, blinking at him slowly, “I… liked your… b-beard…”
Poe’s eyes, previously hardened and steadfast, suddenly go a bit dumb, a bit dazed. After a second, his eyebrows lose all strain, his gaze turns warmer and he rolls his hips deeper—
But the swell begins to become the only thing you can comprehend—that and the fact that you should be fighting it. You should be revolting against it, but now he’s looking so softly down at you and you can’t remember what could possibly be so bad about letting him take away all this ache and desperation again. Let him continue to take it away, over and over and over until it’s nowhere to be found at all.
And then Poe leans down and kisses you. And it’s… nothing like you’d expect.
It’s gentle. It’s tender. It goes on forever while he rocks into your soaking wet cunt, easing his throbbing cock in and out of you with such a smooth, repetitive motion that sends sparks of ecstasy down your spine at the apex of each thrust.
You handle it silently. At first. You don’t audibly react to any of it, you force your voice to at least keep quiet if you can’t hide the pleasure from your face or body, but then true to fucking form, he has to go and ruin it all. Poe uses his knees to scoot up just the slightest bit, and then his moan breaks through the absence of the desperate sounds you’ve been holding back as his tongue slowly slides into your mouth.
Your pussy flares, contracting painfully around his cock as it hits a spot that makes your legs shake against his sides. Your eyes roll back as his soft tongue dips into your mouth and everything just gets tighter, and tighter. Poe moans again and his hips push a little bit harder into yours on the next thrust, and it’s almost like a domino effect, except that doesn’t do it justice. It doesn’t topple one by one, it doesn’t take any time at all for the beginning to reach the finish—it’s a house of cards, the whole thing collapses and crashes down in on itself all at once.
You cum.
You lose. Fair and square.
You make a long, anguished whine into his mouth as you just start spasming, clutching hard at his shoulders and drenching his cock with it, your eyes squeezing shut as you cum so slow and fucking helpless around him. Oh Maker, it’s fucking devastating, it feels even more destructive and powerful than the first one. You pull and shove and claw at him equally, mouth slack as Poe tightens his hold and keeps tasting your whimpering cries, fitting his hips snug to yours as he slowly pushes you down through the debilitating ecstasy. You sob in euphoric defeat and a low, bone-shattering groan of satisfaction rumbles through his chest in response, grinding his cock into you and holding it deep as your pussy convulses.
All those weeks of holding out, just to lose. You had a freebie, he gave you an orgasm already and it was like a massive dose of spice to your deprived system—all it did was make your body want it more. Even worse, your orgasm doesn’t immediately inspire one in Poe like a part of you hoped it would, if only so you could reasonably contest the validity of the outcome. He’s able to ride out every twitch and flex as you shudder your way through it, continuing to lazily slide his tongue into your mouth while it’s held open and slack. He tastes like you. He tastes hot and slick and everything about your body feels the same way, damp and unbearably warm from your nape to your elbows to your cunt to the backs of your knees.
You lay there for what feels like a lifetime afterwards, powerless to the way your thighs tremble violently against his hips and letting the tip of his tongue slowly trace the bottom edge of your teeth while he firmly keeps his cock buried inside you. It pulses thickly and you know he wants to cum, you can feel the tension pulling at his shoulders as he keeps perfectly still. But then Poe shuffles his arms up until they’re braced around your head, using himself to box you in completely without moving his lips from yours. His teeth close on your bottom lip as he inches his hard cock out long and aching from your sensitive channel, and then groans and goes back to the same exact dragging pace from before.
Your expression furrows, even as he keeps kissing you and the movement lights up your oversensitive nerves. Fuck, you want him to speed up, it’s all the more shattering and viseral when he takes his time. What is he doing? What is he waiting for?
“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, demanding a quicker pace. You don’t know why he isn’t just letting loose on you now, giving into his body’s need to cum. He’s aching for it, still rock hard inside of you. “Come on, I already l-lost, just fuck m—”
“Told you before,” Poe whispers back, refusing to speed up. He keeps his pace dragging and steadfast, no matter how much you work to entice him. “Never… fuck. Never gave a fuck about that stupid bet. Suffer though.”
The complete lack of harshness in his tone sears through your nerve endings even though what he said wasn’t exactly nice. You never thought hearing him tell you to suck it up could be delivered in a way that inspires so much arousal in you, but then his tongue is in your mouth again as his hips work slow and easy, and your eyes roll back at how… overwhelming it feels. So intimate. You’re completely surrounded by him, his forearms propped next to your head and his mouth on yours, and… Maker, there it is again. Your body is so deprived that it’s already gearing up to go again. He’s being lazy and you can’t fucking stand how it’s breaking you down. Gradually, with incredible stamina and a patience you never expected from him. When you first feel that pull, part of you still wants to pick up the other end and start a tug-of-war with the sensation. You’ve been fighting for so long that your body almost doesn’t know any different, its automatic reaction is to resist.
A distraction, that’s what you need. That’s what guys do to stop themselves from cumming too soon, right? Fuck, think of something, think of…
—Poe, you can't think of anything but Poe. Fuck. His cock sinking deep, the way he tastes, how his fingers thread into the damp hair at your crown so you can feel him that much more, how you can hook his biceps with both hands and swirl your tongue around his while he fucks you open. Your hips roll up with the pace and almost immediately stutter back down again, not sure if you can handle the wicked shot of oversensitivity—but then Poe groans and shifts up until his thighs are under your ass and he can curl you in more, lift your feet a bit more and make you feel smaller. And—stars, the next thrust in is enough to nearly make you bite him on complete accident, an unexpected sound ripped from your throat as he keeps that specific angle.
Poe keeps going. He keeps kissing you, keeps rocking into you. He lets you claw at him, lets you grapple helplessly while his cock shreds molten hot euphoria deep inside you, and then everything tightens up again.
“Ah, fuck,” Poe breaks away and curses a whole few seconds before you descend into mindless chaos once more, garbling out broken syllables with the absense of his mouth keeping yours occupied. Your voice crescendos and breaks at the same time you do, the pleasure arcing through you over and over and wringing you out repeatedly around his throbbing cock. Poe’s lips quickly move forward and give your whole cheek an open kiss while your expression crumples with it. Teeth drag down your skin as he moans hot air across your skin, his hips slowing to a complete stop with an obscenely slick sound.
You throb and clench around him and his lips are suddenly on yours again, his tongue sinking deep and dominating. Your mouth is slack and all you can do is squeeze him through the bliss, scrape your fingernails down his back and hope it leaves a mark.
Eventually the tremors pass and you’re dead in the aftermath, you don’t have energy. Your body is starting to acclimate to the slow orgasms and just let them steamroll you flat, fully accepting now that you can cum but still putting everything you have into it like every single one might be your last for a while. You come back to yourself enough to feel Poe’s cock solid and achingly hard inside you, and your bottom lip is being tugged between his teeth.
And then he eases out and goes back to fucking you. Same speed, same control.
Your eyes nearly fucking cross. “P-Poe—”
He immediately makes a noise of disapproval with his mouth closed, a nuh-uh but kept tight in his throat. He doesn’t want to hear it, he’s not even letting you finish your thought.
You can’t take it, though, you didn’t think he was capable of this. This is torturous in an entirely different way, overstimulating and shattering you with every thrust.
So, you think back to the one thing that got him to nearly snap earlier, the one time you really got to see that fire you love playing with. Only now, you need that fire, you need him to take everything out on you. Your floor muscles clamp down without warning and squeeze him as tight as possible, squeeze squeeze squeeze until you feel his hips stutter to a halt once more. Your breath catches—fuck, is this gonna work?—but then Poe breaks away from your lips to drop his head and sink his teeth into your neck.
You nearly squeal at how careless he is about it—an animal that bites you lazily even though it sends sharp agony rocketing through you. Again, your attempt at sabotage backfires spectacularly as a subsequent flare of pleasure swells up, and oh, that’s what you want, you want him to be mean—
“Please,” you whimper, hooking your ankles behind his back and locking down hard enough to make your toes curl. Poe groans as you grab a fistful of his hair and tug at the way your skin pinches between his teeth—you know you’re gonna have a bite mark for a few days and it thrills you. “Fuck, please, Poe—please just fuck me, please, I want you to fuck me until it hurts, fuck me the way we both nee—”
“You and me almost died today,” Poe grits into your neck, cutting off your desperate whimpers with a short growl. “Maker, it was so close, I don’t think anybody has any f-fucking…” His hips pull out and then spear deep and you choke, tightening and tightening. “But—shit, we didn’t, we lived and now—oh fuck, now baby’s finally letting me fuck her and I’m not cutting it short, no matter how pretty she sounds asking.”
His words sound slurred against your neck and you can’t tell if it’s his delivery or your perception that’s lagging. But when you feel Poe inch his cock out and start to slowly fuck you through the tightness, you let out a weak little whine and feel yourself drifting… somewhere else.
Things subtly lose their clarity, your eyelashes dip and you stop talking because words won’t come. You can’t tell if you’re staring at the ceiling or your eyelids or the back of your head, but Poe’s voice abruptly breaking through the silence makes you realize you don’t have a concept for time anymore. You couldn’t tell him how long you’ve been floating, but you almost don’t understand what he’s saying at all and it takes you a remarkable delay to fully comprehend. But judging from what he says, it sounds like it hasn’t been long.
“Shit, are you cumming again?” He suddenly gasps into the crook of your neck and grinds his hips achingly hard into yours, “O-Oh—fuck yeah, you are—baby’s cumming again—”
“P-Poe?” You stutter and smack your hand against something, him maybe, not knowing literally anything else. Not knowing what he’s talking about, not knowing where you are, not knowing your own name, “Poe—oh m-my… God—”
“Whhh—W-What—?” You hear him breathe a split second before everything compresses down tight, and then it all shoves forward at once. All of the buildup makes itself known the very moment it becomes too much to control, like a flash flood but the downpour happened miles away. You think you might actually squeak this time, helplessly cry out like it hurts because stars, it does. It hurts so fucking good, it spiders pure plasma through your entire body with rhythmic jolts and wipes your mind completely vacant. Your shoulders shoot you up and knock your chin into something and you think you might be crying? You don’t know anymore. Your spine comes back down to the mattress like the damp fitted sheet covering it is made of pure ice—your body is overheated and you keep tensing and jerking back up until Poe forcefully pins you tight against it, growling filth under his breath as he slow fucks you through it.
You feel his hand dropping down between your bodies and you sob pitifully at the ceiling when the tip of his calloused finger brushes your clit.
***
You lose count.
It’s just… constant, there isn’t a point in keeping track anymore even if there happened to be the ability—which, nope. Not even close.
He ruins you slowly. Meticulously, with nothing more than steady, unwavering determination. Every structure you built, he takes apart by hand instead of bulldozing it the way you beg him to when you find the words. You’re certain you find them—you must find them at some point, but they’re interspaced between babbled gibberish and breathy whispers of his name.
Even though it’s slow—Maker, it’s so slow—you’ve never been so fucking exhausted. He makes you give him everything and then he drains the reserves, the hidden ones you weren’t even aware existed. He never goes fast enough; in fact, you think he’s actually slowed down over the unknown amount of time it’s been since you first called out his name and asked for this. If you were in a frame of mind to notice, you’d probably realize he’s trying harder and harder to not cum, but in your wild headspace, it just feels like a prolonged punishment for you. It still feels like he’s depriving you for his own pleasure, even though he’s actually depriving himself for yours. But you always do manage to find some way to read things wrong with him.
Eventually, he begins to waver. He stops talking so much, stops chastising you when you plead with him. He hasn’t looked at you since he first kissed you—he’s either hidden his face in your neck or closed his eyes as his soft tongue slides across your bottom lip before dipping inside.
But then there comes a point where even you realize he’s struggling not to let go now, and in your faded traces of sanity, you hear your broken voice cut through the sounds of the soft radio.
“Y-Y-You—” you gasp, trembling under him, “—youneedtocum. You need to—”
“No,” Poe grits against your chin, sounding shaky and weak no matter how sharp he makes his consonants. “Fuck, not yet, I—I-I don’t want to yet.”
“Oh no,” you wheeze out, feeling the swell begin again, the familiar flicker of warning you get as his cock slowly rocks into you. Maker, the pleasure is getting raw and painful even as your pussy is drowning his cock with it, allowing him to glide slow and deep into your sensitive channel and letting the sheer tightness of it be the only resistance your body puts up. You can feel the wetness on your cheeks though, the tears of frustration gathering as your body prepares itself for yet another wave of attack. “Oh no, ohhhhhnononononono—”
“I don’t want—” Poe gasps, his hips stuttering just a bit and one of his hands coming down to smack the pillow next to your head as he chokes, “—don’t want this to… e-end yet, I—”
Your next orgasm suddenly slams through you and Poe immediately rips himself out of you before it’s too late. He shushes you frantically while you sob in distress and writhe side to side through the contractions solo this time, having nothing to clamp down on, not even able to grind up into him because he keeps his leaking cock elevated far beyond your reach.
Oh, that’s it. That is it.
“Fuck me!” You wail up at him, water blurring your vision and tears streaming down your cheeks, “Stop fucking around and just fuck me, you asshole! Fuck me and fuck me hard Dameron or I swear to every fucking star in the sk—”
You don’t get too far. He’s immediately scrambling over top of you and a strong hand is clamping down tight over your mouth, muffling your high-pitched cries against his palm. Your legs are shoved apart and one is caught under his arm and wedged back as far as it can go. His head drops to your neck, and then he snarls a ragged, “Brat—“ under your ear before ramming his cock back inside you.
Stars. Stars light up, it’s so much—the angle, the force, the speed, the sound his hips make as they start ruthlessly colliding with yours. Your eyes screw shut and you dig your nails into the meat of his back, but he doesn’t slow down—he speeds up—
“Fuck, you still think that throwing your little fucking fits works on me?” He hisses, drilling into your g-spot with such blinding hard precision that you can’t do anything more than just claw at his chest, gasping for air that just won’t come into your lungs. “Huh? Think you can just be a little bitch to me about it and it’s gonna change anything? You still don’t have any fucking idea, do you? Look at me—” he snarls, grabbing your face and shaking it to get you to respond, “—look at what you fucking do to me—”
But you can’t. You already came countless times and he’s lurching you up the bed with every single rabid thrust into your blindingly sensitive cunt, fucking you into the railing and then the wall behind it. You still feel his fingers grasping at your jaw, forcing you to address him, to look at him, and you can’t seem to focus your vision on his blurry features even when your eyes flutter open. You’re too dumb with grinding pleasure to see anything besides blurs and stars, to say literally anything back to him. But that’s not what he cares about.
“Oh fuck yes, there it is,” his voice whines, pitching up something vulnerable as his hips ram you into the corner hard and unyielding, “fuck, there’s those pretty eyes, that’s what I wanted, baby, that’s all I wanted—th-that’s—fuck, that’s—”
They must cross, or roll back, or something, because suddenly you can’t see him at all anymore. You don’t know what happens—but you know it’s wet. You know it bursts forth something fierce and you shriek his name with a hoarse and shredded voice like he steals the last part of your whole fucking soul with it. Fuck, you’re not even there for most of it, you might actually black out.
In your conscious moments, you can feel his whole body flexing over and over again on top of you. He empties his load deep inside you and takes a fucking eternity doing it, so many breathless praises leaving his mouth so quickly that they slur together and you can’t understand any of it even if you could hear him. All you can do is feel your cunt tighten and convulse in tandem with the throbbing of his cock, rhythmically working the cum out of him until Poe stops stuttering his hips, until he finally trails off into nothing but labored gasps and slumps down on top of you in exhaustion.
You both lay there for a while, dead weight breathing.
You want to hold him, your cum-struck mind quietly provides in the comedown. You want to feel his body now that you can finally think straight and take a moment to enjoy this blissful relief. He fucked you so good and you want to touch him, you want to run your fingers through his hair and massage the tight muscles at the base of his neck.
But then you just start giggling.
It’s stupid. It’s so fucking stupid. You smack your hand over your mouth but the garbled noise easily floats beyond it, completely elated and having absolutely no explanation at all.
Poe quickly pulls his head back to look at you and you try to twist sideways under him to hide it, but you can’t stop—like a complete loon, you snort and start to laugh harder at the ridiculous sound. Oh, you don’t just float, you’re the air itself, so light with endorphins that you close your eyes and get lost in the fit until water wets the outside corners.
After a moment, a hand gently grasps your wrist and slowly pulls it down until he can see the way your mouth opens as you giggle, hear it unobstructed and let the sound bubble up at him and fill the room. And you blink your eyes open just in time to see him slowly break into the most dazzling smile you’ve ever seen him bestow a person.
And… you’ve seen him grin a million times. He’s almost always smiling, as long as you’re not right in front of him. He smiles at his squadmates, he smiles at girls, he smiles at complete strangers, and you always thought it was pretty. Always knew that he could light up a room with it, you always knew he could get anything he wanted with it, but this… this isn’t that kind of smile. That one is practiced and alluring. It wasn’t fake, necessarily, but that smile’s purpose always had more to do with making anyone who happens to witness it feel a certain way than it did about signifying his own emotional state.
This one is… goofy. Amazed, and uncoordinated. Thunderstruck in a way, except the clouds all part at the same time and let you see a rainbow. It makes you feel… alive. Colorful. Radiant. Sunshine. Butterflies.
Poe quickly drops his lips to catch yours and you moan happily, sliding your tongue into his mouth this time. You both adjust, you arch into him as he pushes your damp hair back and makes a deep noise of satisfaction, letting you explore while he wraps his arms around you and finds a way to make this atrocious position comfortable. Every part of you is smushed up against him and there’s absolutely no space to be found, and you’ve never been happier.
“We made a mess,” he groans against your lips, rocking his hips into you with a disgustingly slick sound as if to illustrate, and his cock is soft but it’s still so thick that it stays buried inside your sloppy entrance. “Shit, I—I think I might be bleeding.”
“What?” You ask breathily, and he heaves himself up with his elbows just enough to reveal his chest. You both tuck your chins unattractively to look and you don’t immediately see any blood, but your claw marks are clearly red and visible scraping down his pectorals. “Oh. Pfft. You’re fine.”
He drops back down with a huff and your head is tilted at the perfect angle catch on the tiny droplets of blood decorating the marks criss-crossing his shoulder blades. Oops.
But he’s already kissing up your neck and over the curve of your jaw and making out with you again like he can’t get enough of it, and you forget. You forget everything. You forget every disagreement, every gripe with him you’ve ever had. It’s all wiped away and replaced with giddy, childish adoration. Resetting completely and starting off on the rightest foot imaginable.
“Let’s go to my bed,” he murmurs, and you make a tight noise of disapproval. No. This is good, this is how you want to stay. The railing is digging into your lower back and he’s heavy but you’re perfect like this, this is perfect. “Baby,” Poe pants against your lips in exasperation when you quickly clutch the back of his neck and keep him glued to you, “mmph—you got everything all wet—”
This time you make a low hum of agreement and drag your hand down the bare curve of his spine to his ass to give it a squeeze. A testament to how hard and raw he fucked you. Poe shudders hard enough for you to feel his body tremble but you just kiss him harder, pulling him down onto you more.
“You’re gonna have to give me, just like—I don’t know, at least an hour or two,” he chuckles, grabbing your hands to make it easier to peel himself from your body and groaning when his cock finally slips out. “Come on, let’s hang out in my bed.”
You’re so boneless when he pulls you to sit upright, you roll a little bit and Poe has to catch you, and you laugh again. Maker, you’re a complete mess and absolutely delighted about it. Your attempts at grumbling and complaining don’t hold any sway when you’re still trying not to giggle, and Poe is able to pull you to the top of the ladder and make his way down first.
As soon as he’s out of sight and calling up to you, you weakly slide into position with a groan and feel yourself leaking at the movement. “Gah—look what you did. I’m all… gooey.”
“I know, s’the hottest fucking thing,” he says under his breath from the floor, before beckoning you by tapping on the closest rung a few times. “Come on, be careful.”
You do as he says, easing your naked body down one step at a time with wobbly legs. It’s clumsy and you whine the whole way through, wordlessly grousing and mumbling.
“Oh, I just know it,” he comments on the sound, “nice clean sheets, I’ll get the violin.”
Normally, you probably would’ve snarked something back down at him, but you’re still so loopy and shaky-legged that you just start laughing again. The fact that he’s absolutely right and you’re being ridiculous about something like moving beds suddenly strikes you as incredibly fucking funny for some reason. You don’t realize his hands are hovering inches away from your hips until your legs buckle and Poe quickly supports your weight.
“Maker,” Poe chuckles before giving you a firm yank, and then catching you before you can tumble down the ladder in your naked, teary-eyed mania, “let’s go, giggles.”
He carries you a few steps to the mattress and plops you down on top of the comforter, letting you take up the whole bed while he sits on the end and puts your feet on his lap. Poe grimaces for a second and then shuffles until the radio is pulled out from under him, and you can hear the soft sound of it playing once again. You bury your face into his pillow, inhaling the warm scent lingering there while he tosses it carelessly to the side and rubs your shins for a little bit, watching you stretch out naked on his mattress.
“I’m not giving you two weeks of pay,” you suddenly grunt, and he just grins down at you, not arguing. Not saying anything. Sitting in comfortable silence with you when you’re expecting him to bicker. So you stay like that for a long time, breathing deep and relaxing, until Poe’s hands leave you for a second…
… to pull a bag of chips out.
Maker, at the first squeaky sound of the wrapping assaulting your eardrums, you want to roll your eyes. You want to tease him about how fucking typical it is. Like clockwork, you could probably set your watch to his middle of the night cravings. You don’t know why you thought fucking him would change any of that.
You want to give him shit for it. You even open your mouth, the snark on the very tip of your tongue. But then your stomach growls as soon as he rips the thin plastic apart.
Poe’s eyes shoot to yours and neither one of you move, but apparently your tummy doesn’t get the memo. It takes forever to trail off into silence again, and he blinks. Fuck, you know you should’ve forced yourself to eat at least something earlier. Warmth floods your cheeks and you scramble for something to say, but there’s no way to play it off.
“Would you like some chips?” Poe suddenly asks with a boyish grin, raising his eyebrows and tipping the open bag freely in your direction.
The corners of your mouth pull downwards even as the inside of it waters. You wouldn’t call it stubbornness necessarily as much as it is a… a desire to stick to consistency. After the unbelievably hard time you always give him about midnight snacking, you’re hesitant to partake.
Though, the chips rustle against each other and sound absolutely fucking delicious as Poe shakes the bag and bounces his eyebrows, and you know what? Fuck it.
You snatch it without thinking, cradling the precious food to your chest as you dig your whole hand in and shove a bunch into your mouth at once. You catch him smiling again, but he doesn’t comment.
You both take turns, and by take turns you obviously mean you take turns stealing the bag from each other instead of just setting it equidistant between you and openly agreeing to share it, but it works for you. It seems appropriate. And then it’s quiet again, just munching and crinkling, except for the radio continuing to play from its place in his lap. You have to work to listen over the loud crunching vibrating through your skull, but when you finally manage to stop chewing and catch a few bars, you suddenly find yourself trying not to smile again. Fuck, it’s been years since you’ve heard this song, you love this s—
“Fuck, I love this song,” Poe promptly exclaims with his mouth full, licking the tips of his fingers before scrambling to pick the radio up and twist the volume knob without using his wet fingertips. He starts humming over the melody, loud enough to almost drown it out completely, because of course he does. The one damn time you actually want to listen to his radio and he still finds some way to mildly irritate you.
But this irritation is almost… fun. You want to laugh just as much as you want to yell at him.
“Hey, who sings this song?” You immediately ask over the sound of him clearly not knowing the lyrics, already ready with it. Oh, the round is in the chamber, your finger is on the trigger, you are ready, and Poe’s eyes sparkle as he seems to stop and think about it.
“Mm, not sure,” he eventually shrugs, just before you rush, “Let’s keep it that—”
And then he’s slapping a hand on your leg and belting out the chorus while you scoff, giggling. He ruined the punchline on purpose and is now getting chip dust all over you, but you know any complaint you make will be drowned out by his suspended notes and backing track, so you just roll your eyes and swipe the bag of chips from him while he continues to serenade you.
“My ears are bleeding,” you mutter under your breath.
He has a nice voice, you think.
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Don’t You Worry (Your Pretty Little Head)
Pairing: Guitarist!Bucky x Reader
Summary: You agree to spend twelve hours with Bucky whom you just met.
Word Count: 9.1k
Warnings: THE LENGTH lmfao, soft smut??? Nothing vulgar and it’s sorta implied
A/N: I am honestly nervous about posting this piece because idk, aside from it being fucking long, I was never satisfied with how this was written lmfao. I literally rewrote this like idk 5 times??? And the fact that I made a mood board for a oneshot lmfao only means I poured my heart out into this shit and I’m really hoping y’all would enjoy this as much as my other works 🥺
MAIN MASTERLIST
Your idea of a fun Friday night involved your couch and Netflix playing in the background as you scrolled through your phone with a glass of wine in hand. This was your definition of pure bliss, something that Wanda violently opposed to.
So here you were, seated in the front of a music bar while Wanda’s favorite band played.
“See? This isn’t so bad, right? Better than wallowing in your apartment alone.” She teased as she leaned over to you, needing to amp up the volume of her voice so you can hear her.
“The fact that we can’t even hear each other properly makes wallowing alone sound so much better.” You told her, not even bothering to repeat yourself when she didn’t understand what you said over the loud music playing.
Her favorite band introduced their last song for the night and as they did, you checked your phone for the time. It was barely past ten in the evening and you were already dying to get home. You’ll bid goodbye after this, you promised yourself. Just one last song and you’re out. Before the band could even finish their last song, you’d already decided on what pizza to order and which wine to bring out.
That was until the next band came up on stage to prepare for their performance. You were leaning over Wanda already, about to tell her that you were heading home, when one particular guy caught your eye. Something that Wanda noticed when she saw you gawking at the stage.
“Oh my god. He’s definitely your type.” Wanda said when her eyes landed on the bassist.
He had dirty blonde hair and a clean-shaven face that looked a little too innocent for someone to be in a rock band. Your exact type— one with the boy next door appeal, someone you’d want to bring home to introduce to your parents. Wanda was so sure you were crushing on the bassist but as soon as he followed your line of sight, she almost choked on her own spit.
You weren’t eyeing the bassist, instead, you were completely focused on the lead guitarist. You were so enamored by this guy that you failed to notice Wanda gushing over the fact that you were enamored by someone who was the complete opposite of your type.
It was the lead guitarist who caught your attention. The one with long hair tied into a low, messy man bun, his stray locks framing his perfectly chiseled face. It wasn’t only the hair that made you look at him, it was also his left arm— it was covered entirely with tattoos. And then he started playing the guitar and good god, his fingers were something else.
It was rare for you to have certain thoughts, the kind that would make you sweat in church. And thank fuck for Wanda finally snapping you out of your filthy trance because if she hadn’t, you would’ve seriously drowned in your not so pure thoughts.
“I can’t believe you’re attracted to that guy. This makes me so excited, honestly.” Wanda squealed.
“Huh?” You played dumb of course. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Wanda snorted out loud, “I just witnessed you drool over the guitarist for a good five minutes. Stop denying.” She said.
You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I did. And so what? It’s not like I’m gonna act on it.”
“You have to fuck him.” Wanda casually suggested, making you choke on your drink.
You weren’t a prude but you didn’t like the idea of hooking up with people, most especially strangers. You weren’t going to lie though, it did cross your mind. Obviously, the way his fingers moved on his guitar really threw your brain down the gutter. Sure, you might have wondered what it’d be like to have those fingers on you but again, would you act on it? Hell no.
“It’s just one night. Live a little, come on. And you getting attracted to someone like him? That’s once in a blue moon, all the more you need to bring him home.” Wanda said.
“One night stands don’t really work well for me and you know that. The first time I tried that was also the last time because I ended up getting attached. And how did that end? Terrible. So no, thank you. Never again.” You told Wanda.
Fortunately, Wanda stopped bugging you about fucking the guitarist. It wasn’t really a big deal, it was nothing but a moment of admiration. You were hell-bent on going home anyway, well, maybe after his band finishes their first song. Besides, he wouldn’t notice you so why bother staying?
“Oh my god, he’s looking at you!” Wanda almost screamed, slapping at your arm until you turned to the stage.
And holy fuck. He was really looking at you. Why though? You even looked behind you to make sure it was you he was staring at and when you turned back at him, he smirked and threw a wink at your way.
“You know what, I think I’m gonna head home.” You said, not knowing how to act.
Wanda pulled you back down when you stood up, “Oh no, honey. No one’s going home this early.” She said. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?” She quickly added, tipping her head towards the stage.
When you looked up at the guitarist, he was still looking at you as he played. This time, he was actually pouting, as if pleading for you to stay. You quickly avoided his gaze and although it was dimly lit in the bar, you still bowed your head to hide the blush creeping up to your face.
You managed to survive the entire setlist of the band despite the flirty smiles and winks that the guitarist gave you. Wanda was ecstatic about it, it made you wonder if she was actually the one crushing on the guy. As soon as the last song was done, you excused yourself and hurried into the bathroom to compose yourself.
It was the first time that you experienced such attraction towards a guy like him. You always went with the good boys, so why were you so drawn to this guy who looked nothing but trouble? You were in denial, this was totally out of your comfort zone so you shook the thoughts away and promised yourself (again) that you’d head home this time. For real.
“There you are.”
You gasped out loud when you stepped out of the bathroom, quickly colliding against a solid chest when you heard his voice. It was low yet gentle, soft-spoken but sinful.
“I’m sorry?” You sputtered out, bowing down your head to avoid the lead guitarist’s gaze.
“I thought you left already.” He said. “I’m Bucky, by the way.” He introduced, extending his left arm for a handshake.
Your eyes landed on his tattooed arm, despite the ink covering it all up you could actually see his veins.
“And I’m going home.” You quickly shook Bucky’s hand, ignoring the electricity that ran through your veins and brushed past him, eyes scanning the bar for Wanda.
Bucky jogged ahead of you, blocking your way and chuckling to himself. “Don’t I at least get a name?” He asked.
You were internally screaming, but you managed to mention your name just so he would leave you alone. Sure, he was hot and he was actually flirting with you. But your fear of the unknown outweighed your attraction. You weren’t ready to step out of your comfort zone. Yet.
Bucky trailed behind you as you looked for Wanda, cursing to yourself when you couldn’t spot her anywhere. You took out your phone and called her immediately.
“Wanda? Where are you?” You hiss into the phone.
Bucky watched you with amusement and it was making you uncomfortable. He was just staring at you with a grin on his handsome face. And now, you just discovered that Wanda left you.
“What?! But why?! You’re my ride home! Come back and pick me up!” You exclaim into the phone, unable to believe that Wanda just ditched you.
“You can’t— hello? Wanda? Hello?” You groaned in frustration when your friend ended the call.
“I’d love to offer you a ride home but it’s too early, so how ‘bout I just buy you a drink?” Bucky asked, flashing you a charming smile that made your knees weak.
Part of you wanted to give in and just say, fuck it, let Bucky do whatever he wants with you. The reasonable part of your brain though, highly opposed to this and pulled on the alarms. This guy probably just wants to get you into his bed and although it doesn’t sound that bad, you worried more for what could happen afterwards. You weren’t ready for a repeat of the past. You were too emotional, you had too many strings and they get attached way too quickly.
“No, thank you.” You told Bucky and headed outside the bar, deciding to book an Uber instead.
Bucky was persevering though and followed you out, blocking your way into the sidewalk and snatching your phone away.
“Hey, give me my phone back!” You exclaimed.
“The night is young, c’mon. Why are you so aloof anyway?” Bucky asked.
“Because I don’t know you?” You responded.
Bucky chuckled, “Have you ever heard about making friends? I mean, pretty much everyone you meet starts off as a stranger. And it’s not like I’m a serial killer or anything. I’m not gonna rob you but I most certainly won’t give you your phone back until I convince you to stay a while.” He said and god, he was too charming for your own good.
He made a good point about making friends. You couldn’t even remember the last time you made a new one. Bucky could see the gears in your head working as you stared at him, cheeks flushed and lips parted in deep thought.
“So, what do you say? Stay a while? Keep me company. It’ll be fun.” Bucky insisted.
“Why me?” You blurted out.
It wasn’t that you were insecure, but you were way too different from Bucky. You didn’t seem like his type, but then again, he wasn’t your type either. Until the moment you saw him on stage.
“Why not?” Bucky responded as if he couldn’t believe you just asked him that question.
“Do you ask that every time someone flirts with you? Besides, it’s not everyday that someone like you stared at me like that.” He teased.
Fuck, so he noticed you drooling over him. Quick! Think of a way out, you told yourself.
“Someone like me? What did you mean by that?” You asked, sounding offended.
Bucky’s eyes widened and shook his head, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like it’s a bad thing. I mean, you come in here wearing a chiffon blouse and a pencil skirt and expect me not to notice? I’m actually flattered that a girl, no...a woman...was ogling me. Definitely piqued my interest.” He explained.
That was a compliment, right? The sirens in your head grew louder at the way Bucky was easily throwing you compliments. He must be used to flirting his way into women’s panties, huh?
“I wasn’t ogling you.” You defended even though you were, looking away from his eyes.
“Sure, you weren’t.” Bucky teased. “Loosen up, will ya? When was the last time you had fun anyway?” He asked.
“Depends on your definition of fun.” You retorted.
“You know what I mean.” Bucky sighed.
“Well, my idea of fun doesn’t involve a guitarist getting me into his bed for a one night stand.” You blurted out, mindlessly.
Bucky made a face and clutched his chest, “Ouch. You went hard on that judgment, I’m not gonna lie, that kinda stings.”
Okay, now you felt bad for jumping to conclusions. Bucky did look like he was hurt from your brash statement. Fuck, he probably thought you were one of those stereotypical bitches! It wasn’t entirely your fault, right? You were just being careful. Were you? Or was it purely overthinking? Your brain was moving all too fast but Bucky quickly distracted you when he took your hand and placed your phone back onto your palm.
“You know, I think I get it why you said that and I honestly can’t blame you. A band dude flirts with you just like that, understandable why you thought that I wanted to get into your pants.” He explained much to your relief.
“I’m sorry, it was tasteless for me to judge you like that.” You quickly apologized, genuinely feeling like a terrible person.
Bucky smiled at you, “Nah, you had every right. I’m sorry if I was too forward but I do really want to spend some time to get to know you. So how about a little proposal?”
There was a glint in Bucky’s eyes that made your heart flutter and your brain go into overdrive. You knew it was a bad idea to give in to Bucky. Someone as charming as him might really be up to no good. Sure, you felt bad for judging him based on his looks. But something in your gut tells you that he was trouble.
“What proposal?” You asked curiously.
“Spend the next twelve hours with me.” Bucky suggested.
You frowned, “What?”
Bucky took your phone again, but only to check the time. “It’s a little past eleven now, I promise you’ll be home before noon tomorrow. Come with me, let loose for once and let’s spend the entire night together. Twelve hours, that’s it.” He said excitedly.
“And I don’t mean have sex with me.” Bucky explained immediately. “We’ll just hang out, it’s a wholesome proposal. But if you do want to have sex with me, I’m not gonna turn that down. I’m just saying, it’s not my motive but I won’t be saying no to it either.” He reassured.
You felt hot all of a sudden at how Bucky casually talked about having sex with you. It made you feel feverish and for someone who wasn’t really a sexual person, it made you feel like you were about to commit a major sin just by listening to Bucky talk like that.
Bucky beamed at you cutely, waiting for your response and honestly, with how his doe eyes were looking at you like that, was it even possible to say no? Despite the continuous alarms in your head and your inner prude begging you to stay within the confines of your comfort zone, you decided to do something for a change.
So you said yes.
You were spending the next twelve hours with Bucky and you could only hope that you wouldn’t regret it.
-
The night started off slow, thankfully, with Bucky ushering you back into the bar for a couple of drinks. You had to remind yourself to still be alert for any red flags that might show up sooner or later. You knew you were being a bit paranoid, but to hell, it would be better that way than to make mistakes tonight.
“Where do you work?” Bucky asked before calling the waiter.
“I work at a bank.” You told him.
The waiter arrived and took your orders, a tall glass of mojito for you and a rum and coke for Bucky. He asked you a couple more things, where you graduated, your hobbies and what you often did during your weekends. All of which you had pretty boring responses to. Bucky listened though and he didn’t seem bored too, what a relief.
“Are you really sure about spending twelve hours just like this?” You asked, taking another sip from your second glass of mojito.
Bucky snickered, “We won’t be talking the entire night, did you really think I’d ask for your twelve hours just to talk?” He asked.
“What are you planning then?” You asked nervously.
Bucky offered you an amused smile, “Nothing illegal so stop worrying, pretty lady. I can see the gears in your head turning.” He said and leaned forward to smoothen out the crease in between your brows with his thumb.
“Come on, time to have fun.” He said and got up, offering you his hand.
You haven’t even recovered from how gentle Bucky was when he touched your forehead. And now here he was, standing over you with his tattooed arm extended, waiting for you to take his hand.
“I don’t bite.” He stated.
Letting out a sigh, you finished up your drink and stood up, slipping your hand into Bucky’s. He smiled at you, lifting your hand up to his face and pressing a kiss on it before winking.
“See? I told you, I don’t bite.”
You cleared your throat and pursed your lips, biting back a smile as Bucky tugged you as he walked out of the bar, keeping your hand in his the entire time. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all?
“Here.” Bucky said, handing you over his helmet.
It was then that you realized that he was about to give you a ride. On his motorcycle. The sirens in your head went off once again, bringing you back to your usual tensed state.
“Oh, no. Look, I know I said yes to your proposal but I’m not going to ride on that.” You disagreed and took a step back.
Bucky looked disappointed but shrugged anyway, placing the helmet back on the bike. “Fine. I’ll let you off this time, just because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Come with me.” He said and took your hand in his again as the both of you went back inside the bar.
He brought you towards the booth where the rest of his band were staying at. They all looked at you with smirks on their faces when Bucky introduced you to them.
“That’s Nat, our vocalist. Sam here is our drummer and Steve the bassist.” He said.
You gave them a polite smile and a quick wave. Bucky threw his keys over at Steve, who was supposed to be your type. Wanda thought so and you were just weirded out that you happen to be drawn towards Bucky instead.
“Hey punk, switch your car for my bike? Just for tonight.” Bucky said.
Steve looked so done with his request but shook his head in defeat as he fished his keys out of his pocket. He pointed at Bucky threateningly, “Don’t mess up my car, jerk. You know what I mean by that.” He said before throwing his own keys over at Bucky who caught it with ease.
“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. Thanks, pal!” Bucky bid goodbyes and pulled you again before you could even say your own goodbyes to his bandmates.
Now, you were inside Steve’s car with Bucky and you were nervous as fuck. Although you did find it considerate of Bucky to borrow his friend’s car to make things comfortable for you. You were going to admit that, but it made your heart flutter. You mentally snorted at yourself because fuck, the bar is set pretty low alright.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, noticing how you tensed up all of a sudden.
“Do we have rules?” You asked.
“This night is all about letting loose and the first thing you thought of are rules?” Bucky laughed.
“I’m about to spend the next twelve hours with a complete stranger, of course I’d be worried! What if—“
“Okay, calm down!” Bucky said, turning in his seat to face you, placing his hands on your shoulders.
“If it’ll make you less tense then fine, I’ll come up with rules. Number one is to stop worrying.” Bucky said, rubbing your arms up and down and you were supposed to feel uncomfortable with the intimacy but you didn’t.
There was no malice to it and it made you panic all the more because ugh, Bucky was making you all soft and vulnerable around him. You could hear Wanda inside your head, commanding you to just calm down and go with the flow. You took in a deep breath and composed yourself.
“You gotta learn to trust people. I promise you, we won’t be getting in any trouble. I’ll take good care of you.” Bucky said, letting your arms go and tipping your chin so you’d look at him.
“Rule two, no what ifs. Just focus on the present, okay? If you keep worrying about what could happen, you’ll miss out on the now. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that.” Something about the change in Bucky’s eyes when he said that made you curious.
He was on to something, like he really meant it. You wanted to ask him about it, hell, you should start asking him for more information. If he wanted to get to know you better then you should attempt to do the same to him too.
“Last rule is to just enjoy. Like I said, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You trust me now?” Bucky asked with hopeful eyes.
The alarms in your head still kept going, but as you gazed back at Bucky, the softer they were becoming. You could feel yourself start to give in and you know what? It actually doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Maybe this would help with your attachment issues? This will probably teach you how to have fun with no attachments. Take things for what they are and just enjoy.
“Hey, will you trust me?” Bucky asked again.
“Yeah, yeah I will.”
-
1:15AM
Bucky took you to a hole in the wall open mic bar. It was a small place and everyone there seemed to know each other. And when Bucky arrived, everyone just greeted him and welcomed you there.
“You seem pretty popular here.” You told him as he led you to one of the seats near the makeshift stage.
“I spend a lot of time here.” He said and called over the guy by the bar.
“Hey Happy! Wanna introduce you to a special friend.” He said. The man approached your table and greeted you with a smile.
“Must be really special, you never bring anyone here.” Happy said, making you blush uncontrollably.
Bucky bit his lip as he turned to you, “Do you sing?” He asked.
You quickly shook your head, “Oh god, no. I don’t have the talent.” You said.
Happy chuckled, “That wouldn’t be a problem, trust me.” He reassured.
Bucky lifted an eyebrow at you, “Wanna go up there and sing with me?”
“Bucky, no.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not doing that.”
“Come on, no one’s gonna judge you. Let loose, remember? And if anyone here laughs at you, I’ll be the first to punch them in the face.” He promised.
You thought for a while, keeping your eyes on Bucky. Fuck this. You called Happy and requested for a shot of tequila.
“That’s my girl! Just needs a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”
You snorted, “Oh that’s not for me. That’s for you. You’re gonna need it if you’ll be hearing me sing.”
You never performed in front of a crowd, well, back in high school maybe for some school plays. But hell, you were never the center of attention and whenever you had to be, you always experienced a panic attack. But now being on stage with Bucky behind you, playing the guitar as you sang (screeched actually), you’d never felt more alive and relaxed. True enough, no one cared about how off tune you were. In fact, you got a lot of cheers from the crowd.
2:45AM
“You hungry?” Bucky asked.
You couldn’t believe it, you’ve been singing on stage the entire time at the bar. You’d like to believe that it was probably the alcohol running in your veins, but you weren’t that drunk. Tipsy, maybe but definitely not drunk. It was fun, you were surprised at how much you enjoyed singing with Bucky and everybody else. You made a couple of new friends aside from Happy, talked to them and even exchanged numbers with a few. This was the most sociable you’ve ever been.
“I could use some carbs right now.” You laughed, wiping off the sweat on your forehead.
Bucky reached out to fix your hair, moving away the sweaty strands sticking onto your cheeks and tucking them behind your ear. He flashed you that oh so charming smile again and good god, Bucky was truly something else.
“Let’s get you something to eat.” He said.
Bucky drove to a 24-hour food truck somewhere. It was close to 3am but you didn’t feel exhausted, which was shocking given that you’ve been dying to go home a few hours ago before meeting Bucky and agreeing to go on an escapade with him. You could already hear Wanda squealing over the phone once you tell her everything.
The both of you ordered some soft tacos and sat on one of the benches beside the food truck.
“Enjoying so far?” Bucky asked with interest.
You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth full of food as you devoured your tacos. “Very much.” You admitted.
Bucky’s eyes crinkled as he laughed along with you, obviously pleased that you were enjoying yourself. Not long ago, twelve hours seemed a bit too long. Now, they felt too short. You could feel your brain begin to overthink what would happen once the the twelve hours are over, but you quickly shook them away and followed Bucky’s advice to focus on the present.
The two of you continued to talk as you ate. You discovered that Bucky and his bandmates go way back and that they’ve been performing since their days at the university. You also found out that Bucky’s last relationship ended six years ago and that he hasn’t dated anyone since then. You found out a lot of things about Bucky, most of which were far from your first impressions.
“Why’d your friend leave you at the bar?” Bucky asked, taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth.
You watched him with hazy eyes as he lighted the cigarette, puffing out a thin line of smoke with ease. You were always drawn to Bucky’s fingers and initially, it was because of the impure thoughts they made you think about. But more than that, they were the gentlest you’d ever seen.
“Probably to get me to have fun.” You responded, looking away timidly when Bucky noticed you staring at his hands.
“She’s gonna be very proud of you after this.” He said.
You nodded and breathed out a chuckle, “Oh, for sure.” You said before turning to Bucky. “Can I try?” You asked, motioning towards his cigarette.
“I haven’t smoked. Ever.” You admitted.
Bucky grinned and passed you the cigarette. “Go on.” He urged and kept his eyes on you as you brought the cigarette up to your lips.
The way Bucky watched you was intimidating in the sense that it felt intimate. It wasn’t like he was eye-fucking you or anything, his eyes were just too...expressive? They held a certain softness to them, a bit of sadness too when you look at it closely. They were the bluest, most beautiful color you’ve seen and they were captivating.
You ended up in a coughing fit from that first drag. Bucky chuckled and took the cigarette from your hand, patting your back as you continued to cough.
“Definitely not for me.” You frowned and took a sip from your iced tea.
“At least you tried. I’m proud of you.” Bucky said, the gentle pats on your back slowing down until his hand remained still.
“You good?” He asked again, sliding his hand lower until he reached the small of your back, but not low enough to make you uncomfortable.
You nodded, “What else is up in your sleeve?” You asked with interest.
“Well, I really wanted to take you on a ride on my bike but I guess that’s for next time.” Bucky confessed.
“Next time?” You asked and you tried not to be hopeful.
“Yeah, next time. We’ll do that next time.” Bucky said and he sounded so sure that you began to worry.
Will there really be a next time? At this point, Bucky could read you like an open book because he chuckled and pressed his thumb against the crease on your forehead again.
“You’re doing it again, whatever you’re worrying about just forget it for now.” He said, soothing out your crease before pinching your nose.
You scrunched your nose making Bucky lightly laugh. He checked the time on his phone and let out a sigh.
3:43AM
“Can I bring you back to my place?”
-
If you told Wanda that you ended up in Bucky’s place, she would freak out and ask for all the details. But no, you didn’t come home with Bucky for that reason. As he promised, it wasn’t his motive to get you into his bed and he seemed to be genuine about it.
Bucky lived in a small studio-type loft. It wasn’t the penthouse kind with the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. It was simple and minimalistic, with just a few pieces of furniture. What Bucky owned were a couple of guitars— different kinds of them, and an electric keyboard.
“It’s not much and I don’t even have a bed frame, I hope you won’t judge me for that.” Bucky said, scratching his neck as he led you inside.
“No, not at all. It’s very cozy in here, actually.” You said, looking around and taking in your surroundings.
Bucky had a lot of indoor plants, you definitely didn’t think of him as a plant guy. As you let your eyes wander, something white zoomed past your vision. A cat.
Bucky also owned a cat.
“This is Alpine.” Bucky said, picking up the feline and carrying it onto his shoulder.
As if Bucky and his plants didn’t make him attractive enough, he really had to own a white cat. You could feel yourself internally screaming about how you haven’t been seeing any red flags. If any, you’ve been seeing green flags pop out every now and then that it was pretty alarming. Strangely, the sirens in your head died down as if they’ve given up on warning you.
Or maybe, there was really nothing to warn about Bucky.
The cat purred and nuzzled its nose into Bucky’s neck and you couldn’t believe that you got jealous for a brief second. Oh, to be cat against Bucky’s chest.
“Feel free to look around, I’ll get you water.” He said, bringing Alpine with him into the kitchen.
You walked around his place and observed the surroundings. He was very organized, more than you actually. You could hear Bucky talk to Alpine and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.
A couple of picture frames that sat on Bucky’s bedside table caught your eye. They were photos of him with his mom you assumed, and three more girls.
“Those are my mom and younger sisters.” Bucky said, appearing behind you with a glass of water.
You thanked him as you took the glass and sat down on his bed, “Where are they?” You asked before drinking.
Alpine jumped into your lap and purred, making Bucky laugh with delight as he sat next to you. His parents were back in his hometown together with his sisters. Bucky told you everything about his family and how close he was to his sisters, how they were supportive of him when he decided to become a musician. Then Bucky went on to showcase his guitar collection, telling you the lovely stories behind each of them. You could see how passionate Bucky was for his craft and it was a wonderful thing to witness. You were envious how Bucky pursued his passion, how he took huge risks to get to where he was now.
“And this is my favorite one.” Bucky said, taking a black electric guitar with him as he went back to sit down next to you.
“First one I bought with my own money. It’s old and doesn’t sound as nice as my newer ones, but I love it.” He said and started plucking at the strings.
Alpine hopped off from your lap and went to sleep onto his tiny little bed beside Bucky’s couch. You focused on Bucky’s fingers as he played the guitar. It took you back to the moment you saw him onstage, how those fingers made you wonder about certain things. They moved gracefully against the cords, plucking with ease producing the most wonderful music. You really needed to snap out of your filthy thoughts.
Bucky played the guitar for you, singing some lyrics once in a while. You noticed his tattoos again and stared a bit longer, trying to decipher each design wrapped around his arm. Some were huge, some intricate more than the rest. They were all of different designs but molded together so perfectly.
You had to admit, you didn’t find tattoos attractive before. But on Bucky, it looked like a masterpiece. He himself, was a piece of art with his chiseled jawline and steel blue eyes that made you feel at home.
“I’ve been meaning to ask...” you softly trailed.
Bucky hummed in response, his attention focused on his guitar as he continued to play.
“Your tattoos, do they mean something?” You asked.
“I got them to cover up the scars from an accident.” Bucky looked up at you.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” You quickly apologized.
Bucky smiled reassuringly, “It’s fine. It was a turning point for me.” He said, setting his guitar aside.
“It really puts things into perspective you know. I crashed my bike one night, I wasn’t drunk, mind you.” He chuckled. “It was pretty bad, my left arm suffered the most. I almost got decapitated but here I am. I got scars all over, really ugly scars so I had them covered up with a tattoo sleeve.” Bucky explained, extending his left arm and looking at it.
“For a while, I wasn’t able to play music. And I hated every second of it. Hated seeing the scars on my arm and how they reminded me of the accident. But you learn to live with it. At least I did, I learned to turn the negative into something positive.”
Now that he said that, you could actually see some of the scars beneath the ink. Bucky shrugged and continued with his story.
“The doctors said I was lucky that I didn’t die. Living my second life now, I realized that I gotta make the most out of it. Focus on the present and enjoy what comes your way. Take risks. Do what scares you.” He explained and now you understood.
You understood why Bucky appeared to be so laid-back and carefree, why he doesn’t worry a lot about the future. He almost lost his life so now he was living it to the fullest. He was living in the present, enjoying every second of it.
“Every time I see my tattoos, I get reminded of my second chance at life and how I shouldn’t waste it.” He said.
Bucky saw the look in your face, how guilty you looked from judging him right away. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, tipping it up to make you look at him.
“So when I noticed that bored pretty office girl in the audience checking me out, I didn’t waste the opportunity to get to know her. See where it goes, who knows if I’d still be alive tomorrow but at least I shoot my shot.” He said, making you chuckle.
Everything went still in that moment, your usually noisy mind included. Time seemed to have stopped as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes. Biting your lip, you gave in and totally let down your walls.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, doing the same thing with his thumb, soothing the crease in between your brows.
This time, he didn’t take his hand back and allowed it to rest against your cheek before sliding down to your jaw and neck. His thumb began to caress the spot beneath your ear, waiting for you to respond to his question.
What Bucky got was more than just a simple response.
“Fuck it.” You whispered before pressing your lips onto Bucky’s.
All your life you played it safe— from your college course to your choice of career. You weren’t one to take risks either and whenever you needed to, they were always calculated. You did things carefully, making sure that you’d get the results you were expecting to save you from disappointment. The unknown scared you and so does uncertainty. You liked staying in your comfort zone but as much as you’ve been denying it, it was starting to get boring.
You also said you weren’t one to entertain a stranger, let alone hook-up with one. But then Bucky comes along with his long hair and tattooed arm, looking like trouble but bringing you none. You’d think that he just wanted to get into your pants but as he showered you with gentle kisses and feathery touches, you realized that Bucky might be different and that he was so much more than just the hot lead guitarist of a band.
Bucky’s calloused fingers perfectly contrasted the smooth expanse of your skin. They felt rough but remained gentle as they moved along your chest, as they danced along your back, as they stroked your inner walls. And his lips, they were tender and soft; they whispered nothing but promises and praises against your ear as your bodies moved in unison.
His eyes remained on you, taking all of your nakedness in, literally and figuratively. He watched you closely, with those blue eyes of his that always made you blush. Bucky’s eyes were truly mesmerizing, no matter how much you wanted to look away from embarrassment, you couldn’t. You felt trapped in those eyes, and you never want to leave.
And his left arm— you could feel the ridges of his scars as you let your hands feel his skin. But they weren’t ugly, didn’t feel weird against the pads of your fingers. His arm offered nothing but warmth and support when you reached your high and came crashing down. His arms caught you and protected you, his embrace was reassuring and it made you feel safe.
5:58AM
The city was quiet and the sun was barely up. Alpine was still curled up on his bed, sleeping. You were exhausted but satisfied and comfortable as you laid on your stomach, head turned and facing Bucky as you listened to him talk.
He was talking about his band’s first performance in college, laughing when he said that he almost threw up from being so nervous. Bucky had the softest voice in the wee hours of dawn, you loved listening to him. Lucky you, Bucky had been talking about anything and everything until the dark skies began to change its hues. He shared his dreams and his secrets and you admired him more and more.
“You should come to our rehearsals.” He suggested, letting a hand trace patterns on your bare back.
“Sounds nice.” You yawned, blinking your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.
“What do you want for brunch?” Bucky asked, almost mumbling from being half-asleep.
You hummed, “By the time we wake up, it might be close to dinner.” You joked.
“Breakfast food is way better during dinner. Want me to cook for you?” Bucky said before yawning.
Your eyes were lidded as you took in Bucky’s form. He was laying beside you, long hair messed up and lips swollen pink from kissing. He looked unreal as a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through his curtains, embracing his body with its warm glow. The sun was now fully up, witnessing the tender aftermath of your intimacy with Bucky as he reached out to brush his knuckle along your cheekbone.
“I’m surprised you can cook.” You said softly, close to falling asleep.
“I’m pretty good at it.” Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss your forehead.
“I’ll cook for you when we wake up.”
Bucky’s soft lips against yours was the last thing you felt before sleep took over.
-
12:24PM
A soft purr paired with soft paws on his face stirred Bucky awake. He groaned at Alpine when she meowed right into his face. Must be feeding time, he thought.
Bucky gently moved Alpine aside and turned, only to be met by a cold, empty space beside him. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes before quickly scanning his apartment for you.
You were gone.
And judging by the cold sheets on your side of the bed, you’d left hours ago. Bucky sighed in disappointment as he got up, putting on his boxers and quickly checking the bathroom. He hoped you’d be there, but you weren’t.
You didn’t even leave a note.
Bucky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to cook for you, really. He wanted to bring you to his band’s rehearsals, maybe even write a song for you.
He wanted more than twelve hours with you.
-
Wanda had been on your ass for days now. When you told her about your twelve hours with Bucky, she was happy and proud. By the time you got to the end of it, she was fuming and was close to actually physically hurting you.
She wouldn’t stop bugging you about it, demanding you to at least look Bucky up on Facebook or Instagram. Wanda believed that what you and Bucky shared that night was special, something real and not just a one-time thing.
You woke up that morning, feeling sore but happy. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you opened your eyes to the sight of Bucky sleeping peacefully beside you. He seemed to be dreaming, his brows creased and lips pursed.
Reaching out, you did what Bucky kept on doing to you whenever you were worrying. You pressed your thumb against his forehead, soothing out the crease as gentle as you could so as not to wake him up. Bucky stirred in his sleep and unconsciously took your hand in his, pressing a kiss onto your palm before falling back into his slumber.
And that’s when it started; the alarms in your head went off and they were the loudest they’ve ever been. You were almost deafened by it, your logic drowning beneath your panicked thoughts as you got up from bed. You dressed up in a hurry, grabbing your things and phone to book yourself a ride home. Alpine woke up and ran over to your legs, purring as if begging you not to go.
You refused to look back and went straight for the door.
One and a half week later, here you were still feeling like the most terrible person on the entire planet. You had searched for Bucky online, of course. You just didn’t tell Wanda that but it was the first thing that you did upon going home. There were instances when you were tempted to send him a DM, or add him up on Facebook but you never did.
That one night with Bucky changed everything, it changed you. You immediately filed for a resignation, realizing that you were no longer happy working for the bank. It was a spur of the moment decision but you knew it was the right one. You didn’t even know where to apply next or what career to pursue. But you weren’t worried like you had expected to be.
Bucky taught you to take risks, to not fear the unknown because things will eventually fall into place. You felt good though, that you were slowly learning to step out of your comfort zone. But something was amiss and you knew what it was. Or who it was.
You just weren’t ready to admit it yet.
-
It was around nine in the evening when you went to the grocery store for a last minute shopping decision. Wanda was coming over for a movie night and apparently, you didn’t have any snacks left.
Finishing your list, you turned at the corner of an aisle and collided with somebody. Your apology died on your tongue when you looked up to see a familiar face.
Steve.
“Hi.” You softly greeted, wondering if he would even remember you.
He frowned at you and you were surprised that he remembered you and actually knew about that night.
“Why’d you leave Bucky just like that?” He asked right away.
You swallowed and avoided his gaze, “It was...it’s not a big deal. It was a one-time thing anyway.” You lied through your teeth.
Steve scoffed, “It didn’t seem like a one-time thing when Bucky came to our rehearsals the next day feeling bummed out.” He explained and sighed afterwards, shaking his head.
“Look, I’m in no position to interfere. I don’t know you and why you did that so who am I to judge? But I know Bucky. He isn’t what you think he is.” Steve said.
“I know.” You whispered.
“Then why’d you leave?” Steve asked again but didn’t wait for a response.
“Bucky may come off a little too strong, he’s straightforward and passionate. He gives it his all and that night with you...he gave everything. He was really hurt when you left.”
You were unable to speak because fuck, you messed up big time. You didn’t know that Bucky was going to feel that way when you left. You got scared and ran away even when there was nothing to be afraid of. Steve must have noticed your guilt and placed a hand on your shoulder.
“We’re playing tonight at the music bar. You have the chance to make things right.” Steve said and offered you a small smile before leaving.
You stood in the grocery store while in deep thoughts. Again, your mind was all kinds of messed up and your thoughts were fighting for dominance. There were sirens going on and off and fuck, it was all driving you insane. Your heart began to race when you felt an impending sense of doom wash over you. You were panicking and you were fighting so hard to calm your nerves.
And then you remembered Bucky that night and how he was quick to silence your brain with a simple yet comforting gesture.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
A thumb on your forehead to soothe your worries. Those steel blue eyes providing you comfort, and that charming smile that never failed to reassure you.
You quickly called Wanda.
“Movie night is cancelled!”
-
The dimly lit music bar welcomed you with a sense of familiarity. It had been more than a week since your encounter with Bucky and yet it felt like it was only yesterday.
Smiling to yourself, you remembered how tensed you were when Bucky first approached you. You were so defensive, you had your walls built up high but Bucky managed to bring them down. It didn’t even take him the full twelve hours to do so.
The music bar was full with no vacant spot near the stage. The current band just finished their song and was preparing to exit. You squeezed your way to the front, ignoring the complaints of people you slightly pushed away. A familiar voice greeted the crowd a good evening before introducing their band.
Your breath hitched when you spotted Bucky onstage. His hair was down and he was sporting a little bit of scruff. You watched him play his guitar but something was different. He wasn’t as passionate as he used to be, like he wasn’t focused. He almost looked like he didn’t want to be there. And his eyes, they were empty and void of any emotion. No mischievous glint in them, no nothing.
It broke your heart seeing Bucky like this, especially that you knew you were the reason for it.
It took a while for Bucky to look up and scan the crowd and when he finally did, his eyes immediately met yours.
Just like the first time, you felt your face heat up from the eye contact. Bucky was surprised to see you, you saw how his eyes widened at the sight of you. He was quick to recover though, he looked away and focused on playing the guitar instead.
As soon as his band exited the stage, you wasted no time to approach them. Steve greeted you with a nod before calling for Nat and Sam, asking for them accompany him to the bar to give you some privacy. Bucky refused to look at you as he gathered his stuff, preparing to leave.
“Can we talk?” You asked.
“I’m heading home.” Bucky curtly responded and brushed past you.
The tables have turned with you walking ahead of him to block his way.
“The night is young, stay a while and keep me company?” You used his line and Bucky was having none of it.
He scoffed and shook his head, “I’m surprised you remembered what I said. I mean, after you just disappeared I assumed you’d completely forgotten about that night.”
“I didn’t.” You told him. “Can we please talk?” You pleaded.
Bucky ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I really wanna go home.” He said.
Your hands balled into fists at your sides, “Give me twelve minutes.” You offered.
“Just twelve minutes of your time. Please, Bucky.”
-
The two of you stepped outside the bar for some silence. Bucky walked over to his bike, leaning against it as he looked at you coldly. Those eyes used to gaze at you with warmth, but now they were blank and cold.
“Time is ticking.” He said when you kept mum.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear like that.” You said, looking down at your feet.
How else were you going to say your piece? You had practiced your speech on the way to the bar and now that Bucky was in front of you, you couldn’t even look at him from shame.
Bucky scoffed, “You asked me for twelve minutes and that’s all you’re gonna say? You’re sorry? Just that?” He bitterly chuckled, running a hand over his scruff.
“If you didn’t mean it then why did you leave? You left me without any warning. I honestly thought there was something between us. After everything that happened, how could you just walk away like that? You led me on, didn’t you?” Bucky angrily asked.
“I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t but I got scared!” You admitted.
“Scared of what?” He asked. “Scared of me? Because I’m not the kind of guy you usually go for? You really couldn’t get rid of that first impression, huh?” He said and turned around.
“That’s not the reason why. Everything scared me because that night was something else. You were too good to be true, Bucky! That’s what scared me!” You told him.
Bucky turned around, his brows creased, “What?”
When you woke up that morning, everything seemed perfect. The past twelve hours you had spent with Bucky were wonderful and you loved every second of it. You enjoyed too much and the thought of it being a one-time thing really broke your heart.
You had attachment issues and you thought that giving in to Bucky would help you learn to enjoy things as they were. But it didn’t and made it even worse because you got attached, so fucking attached.
“I couldn’t bear the thought of ending those twelve hours with a permanent goodbye so I left. You suddenly talked about next time and tomorrow and it was...it was overwhelming for me. My fear got the best of me because that night was too good. You were too good.”
Bucky’s expression softened after hearing your side. Now you felt stupid for overthinking things. It was selfish on your part to assume that those twelve hours meant nothing to Bucky.
“I’m sorry.” You apologized softly. “That night meant everything to me, Bucky. I just wasn’t ready to find out whether it meant the same to you.” You confessed with a sigh.
Bucky stayed quiet after your confession. You could feel your bile rising, you wanted to throw up. Hell, you wanted to just faint and forget about everything. If Bucky wouldn’t give you a second chance, you’d understand him. You did a pretty shitty thing to him anyway.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
You lifted your gaze upon hearing that line. Bucky’s eyes had their warmth back and his expression was no longer stoic. He pushed himself away from his bike and approached you, reaching out to soothe the crease on your forehead.
“It’s not everyday that I find myself in the company of a stranger who made me feel things. I’ve always been a traditional one, I take things slow and I’ve been very careful. When I felt something during those twelve hours, I was caught off guard. I never felt so strongly for someone I just met and it was all new to me and I panicked.” You confessed.
“You were out of my comfort zone and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t mean to disappear like that, Bucky.”
You were met with pure silence after your admission. When you looked up at Bucky, you couldn’t read his expression. Thinking that he wasn’t buying your explanation, you let out a bitter chuckle and shrugged.
“I guess that’s it. Twelve minutes. No more no less. I just wanted you to know that, Bucky. And I’m really, really sorry.” You said and slowly backed away, ready to leave.
“Hey.” Bucky called out, approaching you.
“If I asked you to spend the next twelve hours with me again, where would you go after?” He asked.
Was this a test? You didn’t know how to respond and Bucky seemed to have caught up on that and let out a breathy chuckle.
“Will you stay until the morning this time?” He asked. “‘Cause I was pretty disappointed when I woke up to an empty bed. I had our brunch planned out, you know?”
The mischievous glint in Bucky’s eyes was back. You bit back a smile when Bucky cradled your head into his palm, thumb circling the skin on your neck.
You timidly nodded, tilting your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a searing kiss that promised you another twelve hours together. And more.
“No more running off in the morning.”
-
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#bbb writes#oneshots: bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky smut#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#sebastian stan
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Brooklyn Honey - Bucky Barnes x Reader
(Repost!) Hello, this is for the lovely @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge. I decided to go with the song prompt “Life in the City” by The Lumineers. It really reminded me of 40s Bucky.
Title: Brooklyn Honey
Summary: Life in the city ain’t always so pretty, but you’ve got Bucky and he’s got you.
Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: nah
***
“That’s so not how you do it.”
“Sorry, I must’ve missed the day you wrote the manual on how to put up curtains.”
“You sure did, and I can tell you as an expert, the nails aren’t supposed to resemble a mountain range.”
“Smartass. C’mere.”
Bucky’s palm opened and you took a nail, carefully tapping it into the wall.
“Or is it the skyline you’re going for?”
“You’re pretty mouthy for an assistant.”
“I keep it interesting, doll.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
“James Barnes, what on earth are you doing in there?!”
Your eyes went wide and you hurried to scramble off the chair you were standing on. Bucky put a hand on your back, shaking his head.
“Buck—”
“I got it, don’t worry. Keep hammering.”
“But—”
“Honey, don’t you trust me?”
“Absolutely not.”
More knocking, faster and louder this time.
“Coming, Mrs. Anderson!”
Bucky buttoned up his shirt, smoothing his pomade-slicked hair back, and went to answer.
You stepped down from the chair anyway, daring to peek around the corner.
He had his arms up, trying to fill the entire door frame and hide the obnoxiously yellow curtains you probably weren’t supposed to have. Mrs. Anderson, Steve and Bucky’s busybody next door neighbor, was a small, shriveled, old woman with a perpetually pinched face that looked like it had been stored in a jar of formaldehyde for the last twenty years. She kept trying to look over Bucky’s shoulder but he wouldn’t let her, moving when she did.
“—could’ve sworn I heard hammering coming from this apartment.”
“Oh! You must’ve heard me fixing my bike.”
“You don’t have a bike, James.”
“Did I say my bike? I meant Steve’s.”
“Steve rides a bike?”
“Absolutely. Keeps him fit.”
“I don’t recall seeing him ever—”
“Well, bye, Mrs. Anderson! Always a pleasure to see you, ma’am.”
She gave another stern look before shaking her head, walking away.
You sighed as Bucky shut the door with his foot, a too sly smile on his face.
“Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”
“I think you might be a worse liar than Steve.”
“Well, ouch, doll.”
“First of all, who’s ever heard of needing a hammer to fix a bike?”
“We can be the first.”
“Next time, I’m answering the door.”
You clambered back onto the chair, returning to knocking in the nails.
“I still don’t understand why you wanted curtains in the first place.”
“It adds a homely touch, doll. Aren’t you the one who’s always complaining about how drab this place is?”
“Of course, but it’s not my apartment.”
“It could be, with how often you’re over,” Bucky said sweetly.
“Keep dreaming, Barnes.”
“I will,” he assured with a smile that could melt butter.
You shook your head and returned to focus on the curtains. True, the first one was beyond help in terms of nail placement, but the least you could do was try and make the next one even.
Bucky had offered at least ten times to do it himself but there was no way he was getting his hands on a hammer after what had happened when he’d tried to install some shelves last winter.
Besides, you were better at decorating when it came down to it. At least, that’s what Bucky kept insisting, letting you do essentially anything you wanted to the apartment.
The chair suddenly groaned under additional weight and you startled as you felt the side of a body press against yours.
“How’s it goin’?”
“Bucky, this chair really isn’t meant for two people.”
“You sure? Seems pretty sturdy to me.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and you fixed him with a look.
“What? Don’t want you to fall.”
“How valiant of you.”
“Ain’t it?”
He hopped off before you could scold him further, grinning up at you.
“Beer?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Bucky disappeared and returned a minute later with an open bottle for you, holding it so you could sip safely while still perched on the chair.
Then you kept hammering, eyes narrowed as you focused on not hitting anything other than the nail.
Bucky watched from the floor as you did so, leaning back on his hands.
“What’re you looking at?” you asked after a while, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
He shrugged, a gentle smile on his face.
“The city.”
***
“Honey, I’m home!”
“What did I say about that, Barnes?”
“You said… you’ll love me for all eternity because you’re as sweet as honey?”
“I think it was more along the lines of, ‘don’t call me honey unless you mean it.’”
“I always mean it, Y/N.”
And that was a little more sincerity than you were willing to explore, so you pointed to the bag instead.
“What’s that?”
Bucky grinned, setting a giant paper sack on the counter.
“Lemons.”
“What?”
“Lemons. You know, the little yellow fruits that make you do this?”
Bucky puckered his mouth and smacked his tongue, eyes screwed shut.
“Lemon’s not a fruit.”
“It sure is! Fruit got seeds. Read that in a book about agriculture. We produce a lot of corn, did you know that?“
“Okay, Bucky, the presiding question still remains: why do you have every lemon in the city?”
“There was a good deal at the docks. Dirt cheap for produce. Some guys told me they were takin’ some home for their wives. Didn’t want you to feel left out.”
“I’m not your wife.”
Bucky just grinned. You rolled your eyes.
“I don't know who taught you this, but the way to a girl’s heart is not twenty pounds of lemons.”
“Think of all the lemonade we can make.”
“Unless you’ve also got FDR and his cabinet in those bags, we’re gonna have a lot of leftovers.”
“Look at it this way: no vitamin C deficiency. One less thing to worry ‘bout.”
“Bucky.”
“They’re not all lemons, doll. I got other stuff too. Tomatoes, cabbage, snuck some cucumbers, even bananas.”
You sighed, smiling tiredly. This ration was taking its toll on everyone. You knew Bucky was doing his best, had seen the vegetables and thought of you and how much you missed having cucumber salad and tomato sandwiches like you used to.
“Thank you, Bucky, really. I appreciate you.”
You brushed past him to begin preparing the excess vegetables you three wouldn’t eat this week to pickle. Salt and sugar was going to be hard to gather, but you’d manage. You always did.
“Welcome, doll.”
He beamed, eyes full of warmth as he watched you.
“You gonna stay for dinner?”
“I dunno. Seems like Steve’s gettin’ kinda tired of me,” you laughed.
“Never. ‘Sides, even if he was, doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, really?”
“Nope. ‘Cause you stay for me.”
“And where did you get that idea from?”
He shrugged.
“Seemed kinda obvious, doll. You’re smitten, admit it.”
“Oh dear, you’ve got me all figured out. However did you know?”
“I’m a bright fella.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You ain’t saying no…”
“Really, I have to say no? Can’t you tell I only stick around for the great deals you get on produce?”
“But it’s me that gets the great deals, so really, you’re still staying for me.”
Bucky was against the counter now, shoulder to shoulder with you.
You sighed, hand on your hip as you stared at the table.
“What the hell are we going to do with all these lemons?”
“We’ll figure something out. Always do, don’t we?”
You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, aware he was talking about more than the lemons.
“Yeah. We always do.”
***
Steve had been home for a while, wordlessly letting you in when you’d shown up an hour ago. You didn’t have to explain anything to him anymore.
The record player was on, crooning gently. Steve was in the corner, drawing, away from the window after the breeze had whipped his papers around one too many times.
“Can’t believe they’re building another skyscraper down on Lawrence.”
Steve frowned.
“Really? Won’t be able to see the sunset now.”
“Yeah. And Brooklyn’s not exactly known for its scenery to begin with. Saw a rat and a pigeon fighting over a pretzel this morning.”
Steve chuckled from the floor, shaking his head.
“Times are tough. Even for rats and pigeons.”
“Sure are.”
“Nice curtains, by the way. I like the color.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Did Bucky ask—?”
“No,” he answered, smile evident in his voice. “But that’s alright. I know he’s just tryin’ to gauge what you like.”
“What?”
“Yeah, after the war’s over and all, he’s gonna try and buy a nicer place.”
“And he wants my furnishing tips?”
Steve shrugged, gaze soft and knowing.
“Guess so.”
You cleared your throat, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Want some lemonade?”
“Jesus, there’s more? I thought we’d run out of bushels.”
“You’d think, right? I put ‘em in the icebox so they won’t spoil so fast.”
“Sure, yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”
You were in the middle of stirring the pitcher when Bucky came in.
He didn’t greet you or Steve immediately, like he usually did, instead setting down his keys, then slapping the mail onto the table.
“Well, hey there, mister. Fancy a drink? Today’s special is sour lemonade, your favorite.”
Bucky looked up, startled, and glanced at the pitcher before nodding, attempting a half smile.
“Sure, doll. Thanks.”
“Everything okay, Buck?”
He nodded, slipping away to the bathroom with a sigh.
You turned to Steve, who shrugged.
“Long day at the docks, I guess.”
***
June twelfth. That was when Bucky was being shipped out, somewhere in Europe, too far from you. This entire year you’d been holding your breath, hoping, needing the draft to leave him alone.
Now they were taking him away from you in less than a week.
You were in the apartment, lying on the floor, on Bucky’s second to last day. That’s how he found you upon coming home.
“Trying to count all the cracks in the ceiling, doll? You’ll be here all night.”
You had a glass of lemonade by your head, spiked with a bit of rum. It was already warm, because it was summer and things were supposed to be warm in the summer.
The curtains danced in front of the window, yellow like sunshine and all those goddamn lemons in the freezer. The only respite from an otherwise colorless world.
“This city is so ugly.”
Bucky looked up at the sound of your voice. He walked over, crouching by your arm.
“Think so?”
“Yeah. Can’t find a single pretty thing in the city.”
“I can.”
“Can you?”
“Sure. She’s looking at me right now.”
“That was sappy.”
“Yes it was.”
Bucky lay down, rolling onto his side next to you, taking a sip from your glass.
“But I ain’t mean it any less.”
You hummed, closing your eyes.
“Well, for what it’s worth then, I think you’re handsome.”
“Oh, yeah?”
You could hear his proud smile.
“Don’t make me take it back.”
“No, I’m just surprised to hear it is all.”
“Surprised, huh? I’m certain I ain’t the first one to call you handsome.”
“You’re the only one I wanna hear it from.”
Something fluttered in your chest.
“What d’you say then? You and I, think we can take on a city as ugly as ours?”
He smiled.
“With you, doll?”
“Yeah.”
“With you, of course.”
“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.”
Bucky propped his head up on his elbow. It was quiet again, with only your occasional sighs and his quiet breaths.
“What’re you looking at?” you breathed, opening your eyes.
“You.”
Bucky flicked a drop of lemonade from the tip of your nose.
You turned, now face to face.
And oh, Bucky’s blues. Those had been your color even before the curtains.
“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted.
He smiled a little sadly.
“Gonna miss you too, Y/N.”
You pushed your lips together, taking a deep breath.
“You were right, you know.”
“‘Bout what?”
“That day when you brought home all those lemons. You said that I stay for you.”
Bucky’s lips quirked, gaze fond like it always was.
“All those times I stayed for dinner and pretended to know what I was doing putting up those curtains. I stayed for you.”
You wiped your nose quickly, sniffling.
“And I’m gonna keep staying.”
“Yeah? What if the bridge collapses tomorrow?”
“I’ll swim.”
“Even in the winter?”
“I’ll get myself a pair of ice skates.”
“You don’t know how to skate, doll.”
“That’s right. So you better come back safe and teach me.”
Bucky leaned in, nose brushing your cheek. He rolled over and carefully straddled you, holding his weight.
“I’ll be there, honey.”
“Now what did we say about that?”
Bucky’s eyebrows pinched in thought.
“Don’t say it if I don’t mean it?”
You hummed, pulling him closer, arms around his neck. Bucky’s lips were a millimeter from yours, breath fanning over your chin.
“Mm, I think it was something about eternity.”
Bucky was soft, tangy and sweet. His scruff scraped your cheek and your fingers curled into the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.
He slid his hands under your back and turned so you were on top, head on his chest. You lay like that for a while, listening to his heartbeat, arms strong around you.
Yellow fluttered in the breeze, tacked unevenly onto the wall, catching your eye.
Bucky glanced to the side, chuckling.
“Don’t let Anderson take our curtains away.”
“Of course not. I spent a weekend on those. She’ll have to fight me for ‘em.”
“Good God. Now I gotta worry about you brawling with old ladies and Steve getting into alley fights while I’m gone?”
“Nah. Steve’ll help me.”
“Oh, great.”
You reached up, brushing his jaw with your knuckles.
“Call me honey again.”
“Honey, honey, honey.”
You reached up to get just one last kiss, except it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. It couldn’t be.
“They’re not gonna take you away from me.”
Bucky shook his head, kissing you much slower this time, trying to memorize you before time ran out.
“Never. ‘M gonna think of you and I’ll be back ‘fore we know it.”
You nodded, wishing hard, hoping somebody was listening.
“Then, when I come back,” he whispered, promise riding on the summer air.
“We’re gonna make the best damn lemonade you’ve ever had.”
And maybe this city could take away your sunsets, your tea and jams, even your summer.
But if there was anything that was yours and yours only, it was the lemon pulp on Bucky’s lips and the undissolved sugar on your own, as bitter and pretty as home.
#bucky barnes x reader#1940s bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#kas9kwc#repost for those of you who asked <3
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𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰.
𝔹 𝔸 𝕂 𝕌 𝔾 𝕆 𝕌 𝕂 𝔸 𝕋 𝕊 𝕌 𝕂 𝕀
⇴ male reader [pro-hero]
⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+
↳ summary: You are Katsuki’s little secret, since he can’t be open about your relationship. Inevitably, all falls apart eventually when you want to attend the pride parade in Tokyo and you want Bakugou to come with you.
↣ rating: general audiences
↣ warnings: bakugou being insecure about his sexuality, an argument/fight break-up in the beginning but fluffy at the end, coming out, fluff
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“I just don’t understand why you won’t come with me?!”
“You know damn fucking well why!”, Katsuki argued back, his already loud voice reaching it’s peak. You had been fighting for quite some time.
“I just don’t know why the fuck you keep being so… stubborn! UGH!”, you really had to hold yourself back to not punch the next wall, thus you went away from the situation into the living room. Katsuki, however, following you immediately.
“You knew when we started dating that I… I can’t be open about this stuff!”, he screamed again, though became quieter at the end. His stiff shoulders relaxing a little when he sighed.
“Why can’t you understand and fucking respect that??”
“Look!”, you suddenly stood up again, meeting him eye to eye, “I understand, okay?! I know not everyone can be open, but fuck- Katsuki. It’s been almost a year since we started dating??”
You sighed and rubbed over your face before falling back into the couch.
“I just thought this time around I could already openly show my affection towards you.”
Bakugou felt guilty and bad. He knew he wasn’t easy to date. Always being cautious no one would see or notice. Always hiding. Just so no one would find out Bakugou Katsuki was into men. He knew he hurt you.
“I’m sorry, okay? But I can’t…”, he barely mumbled, then also sighed.
“Okay. Fine.”, and Bakugou really thought that’s it when you said that, but…
“And I am sorry but I can’t continue this relationship.”
And it truly was like someone punched him in his face and kicked him in his balls all at the same time.
“Wha- Wai- I- What?”, he stammered, ruby eyes widened.
“You heard me. I’m sorry. But I am done being treated like your dirty little secret.”, you said, and with that, you stood up and walked past him.
----
“HEEYY BRO!”, your friend shouted while semi-walking and kind of dancing towards you with two alcoholic drinks in his hand.
The music was loud. The temperature gruesome. But seeing so many people, proud and happy, made you also happy. It was also a nice way to try and forget what happened last week, the inevitable break up with your boyfriend… and you really thought you could give him strength to come out eventually.
“Thanks, Aki.”, you said, more shouted against the music, when he gave you something to drink.
While faking a small smile, you watched as he danced back into the crowd as you just walked on the sidelines, wishing that you could have brought Bakugou with you and just enjoy this moment. How much you yearned to just drink and be cute with your boyfriend during this parade so everyone could see and he wouldn’t care.
But it wasn’t that simple and it wasn’t your responsibility to force him out of the closet. But… it WAS your responsibility to do what was best for yourself and you knew you couldn’t keep on waiting.
.
Bakugou knew he had to do something. He loved you. And he wasn’t willing to give up on you or the relationship you had. Katsuki wanted to be together with you. He also knew very well that he shouldn’t be hiding anymore. He had been scared people wouldn’t want to be saved by him anymore, that his career as a hero would die if he was open about his sexuality, but… you had always been open. And yet, you were, just like him, in the Top Ten of Japan’s Pro-Heroes and there had never been an instance where someone commented on your sexuality negatively.
Maybe, he just lied to himself. People were much more accepting, even praising you for being an idol to young queer kids. But, for him, not wanting people to know you were together was safer than having to break up and explain things, yet… Katsuki was ready to get you back and tell everyone he loved you. No more hiding. No more lies. Just being honest and open and vulnerable.
But for god’s sake getting through this fucking crowd was almost impossible.
“Fucking Jesus, where the hell are you?!”, he growled to himself while hastily looking around. So many people. How did he think he was able to find you in such a big parade?
And it was so damn hot, too. Ugh! Why couldn’t he realize all of these things a few days ago, then he could have easily walked up to your door and talk to you, but no. Then again, Bakugou DID want to prove to you he was ready to change, so there was no better place than during this parade. Though, if he couldn’t find you, everything was in vain.
“KitKat…”
When he heard those words, a jolt went through his body, making Katsuki stand there stiffly for a few seconds, just to slowly turn around in the end. There was only one person who was able to utter this nickname without getting murdered.
You stared at him in disbelief just as much as he stared back at you with wide eyes and in shock. He wasn’t prepared to suddenly be found and not be the one finding you.
“What are you do-“, you wanted to ask, however, were interrupted by Bakugou sprinting towards you and into your arms. And it felt right holding him again – fuck.
“Wait, Kat-“
But before you could say anymore, he had grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him, connecting your lips in the middle of the streets while people were walking past you. Some even cheering and howling while doing so.
It was just a short kiss, before he pulled back to look into your [eye.color] eyes.
“I love you, [Your.name]. And I’m sorry. I know you deserve better, like fuck, look at me. I am trash.”
“You’re hot trash though.”, you teased him with a grin, thankfully making him snort and playfully punch you.
“I will be open. No more hiding. Life’s too fucking short to worry about what others think. Sorry it took so long to understand. Can you forgive me?”
The music was still blasting, the crowd cheering, yet, you heard him perfectly and it really warmed your heart. Thus, with a smile on your lips, you nodded.
“Yeah. Forgiven and Forgotten.”
So, you pulled him closer, your arms wrapped around his smaller frame as your lips collided once more, not caring about anything or anyone other than the man in your arms. And for Bakugou it wasn’t any different. He had never cared about anyone before, about their presumptions about him becoming a villain with his quirk, or him not being suited to be a hero, so why was he so hung up about being gay? Fuck it if anyone knew.
He wasn’t going to hide in any closet ever again.
And as he grabbed your hand to march alongside you while singing and drinking – Katsuki knew it was the right decision and he would never regret it.
---
The next morning, he found himself hugged against your body while your head was snuggled into his pecs, which elicit a small snort from him. Yeah… waking up like that was something he had missed the last week. As he looked to the side though, Katsuki saw his phone blinking and lighting up wildly – something was going on.
And soon, he found out what had been going on. His agency was calling and he was tagged in way too many Twitter posts, because someone had snapped a photo of him and you yesterday during the pride parade, embraced and kissing. This was now going around the internet. But for once, he didn’t give a fuck about it.
Instead, he fueled the fire when he flopped back into the bed and snapped a photo of himself, flipping them off and with you visibly cuddling him. His caption: Just woke up like this. Happy Pride Month, fuckers!
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@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works
⇻ salem.talks: happy pride month y’all, let’s be loud and proud of who we are 🌈 usually I believe baku wouldn’t give two fucks about what others think about him, but for the sake of this story I might have made him a bit ooc
#salemswriting.#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x male reader#bnha x male reader#bakugou x you#gay pride#male reader
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Text
Roommates – Part Four
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Words: 2,385
Warning: Smut
Note: This plays in 2020. Please interact. Your interactions and comments mean a lot to me.
Just as you were in the middle of your morning routine following a night filled with erotic dreams about your roommate, you heard a loud knock on the door.
You quickly turned off your vibrator and chucked it into your bedside draw before pulling up your panties and singlet and walking into the hallway.
When you opened the door, you were surprised to see James. His face was flushed and he looked like he had been crying.
‘You don’t fucking answer my messages and calls anymore’ he said and it quickly became clear to you that he must have been drinking all night when you smelled his breath from the distance.
‘You shouldn’t be here James, please leave’ you said firmly, knowing that his visit wasn’t permitted under the current lockdown restrictions.
‘Just hear me out Y/N, please’ he begged once again after he had been trying to get back together with you for the past four months and, whilst you initially maintained contact with him, you no longer responded to his messages and ignored his calls for the past two weeks.
‘There is nothing more to discuss James. I am through with you’ you said before you tried to shut the door on him but, just as you did, his foot caught in the doorway and he pushed his way into the hallway.
‘James, honestly, get the fuck out. You cheated, more than once, and I am done with you’ you huffed out and thought that, clearly, he would have received the 2,000 Euro engagement ring he had bought you in the mail by now.
‘You can’t just throw away what we had Y/N’ he went on to say and, just as he did, Cillian returned from his morning run.
‘Get out of my house James or I will call the Gardaí’ Cillian said calmly as he noticed that you were distressed.
‘Alright Murphy, go ahead, call the fucking cops’ James huffed out angrily and, before you knew it, James pushed you with your back against the wall in frustration.
‘Y/N, please fucking listen to me. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen’ he pleaded again with a whiny voice but his grip on you was becoming rather aggressive.
‘James, stop, you are hurting me’ you shouted out and, just as you tried to push him off, Cillian grabbed James by the back of his t-shirt and pulled him out of the house.
‘That’s enough James, fuck off and leave her alone’ Cillian said harshly and, when these words left his lips, James turned around suddenly and hit Cillian across the face with his right fist.
‘Jesus James’ you panicked as you quickly walked over towards Cillian and him but, when James realised what he did, he was quick to run off.
‘Fuck, Cilly, are you alright?’ you asked as you watched him hold on to his face.
‘I am fine’ Cillian chuckled before acknowledging that his face would likely be swollen before Lindsay would arrive in the evening.
‘I am sure she won’t mind Cilly’ you said before giving him a hug and thanking him for defending you and making James leave.
‘Y/N, I stink, you probably shouldn’t…’ Cillian said but you didn’t care and hugged him anyway, pressing your half naked body against his.
Ironically and almost surprisingly, you actually didn’t mind the scent of his sweat covered body. You could still smell the deodorant and aftershave on his skin and the hint of mint from the toothpaste he used that morning on his lips.
‘Let’s get some ice on this, hmm’ you then said before forcing him to sit down at the kitchen table while you prepared an ice pack for him.
After you wrapped the sachet of ice into a thin cloth, you gently pressed it against Cillian’s cheek which, already, had turned red.
The skin on his face felt soft and slightly moist and his deep blue eyes gazed into yours for a brief moment while his lips smiled at you.
His smile was warm and beautiful and you couldn’t help but pay attention to the large freckle on his upper lip.
‘So, uhm, I…uhm…I think I might go and get dressed’ you eventually huffed out after you had gotten lost in his eyes for a short moment.
Cillian nodded in response and, just as you walked away from him, an unfamiliar feeling washed over his body.
It was a feeling he couldn’t explain and it was almost unique in a way. In addition to his arousal which, by this point, had also formed in between his legs again, he felt shivers run over his spine and down into his stomach. These shivers felt almost like flutters and made him feel uncomfortably warm.
***
It was 5 o’clock and Cillian was out, walking his dog and getting some Aspirin from the nearby pharmacy following his incident with James and you decided to have a bath before the said storm was scheduled to come in later that evening.
Despite, you really needed to get your mind of the fact that Cillian was about to shag Lindsay which, in the past, hadn’t bothered you but, more recently it did. In addition, your friend Laura continued to nag you about updates on Cillian’s life, telling you that she was still very much in love with him and asking for your help to turn things around between them.
The sky had already darkened and you decided to gather all of the scented candles Cillian had in the house and carry them to the bathroom. You arranged them all around and poured yourself a glass of red wine before settling in the hot tub which was facing the backyard through a one-sided window, meaning that no one could see inside.
With Cillian being out, you didn’t bother closing the bathroom door and allowed the heat from the fireplace in the living room to radiate throughout the house.
Just as you sat in the half full tub and watched as the steaming water began to fill it completely, you reached for your phone and ipods to listen to something relaxing.
When, finally, the tub was filled completely, you lowered yourself into it allowing the bubbles to overtake your body. Your knees were slightly bent as you laid back and your breasts were floating on the surface just barely exposed to the air above the water. Your hair was floating and the bubbles were popping all around your head while you listened to an audiobook narrated by Cillian.
His voice was always something you enjoyed listening to, now more than ever and you closed your eyes to take in this moment of solace.
But, just as you did, Cillian’s face appeared beneath your eyelids and your heart instantly skipped a beat. You wanted to feel his strong hands on every inch of your wet body and, with those thoughts in mind, your hand began to caress your ass cheek while thinking about him. With each stroke you moved a little further up your thigh and back down the back of your ass. Your pussy lips were throbbing and wet from more than just the warm water, begging to be touched.
You were in a trance, listening to Cillian’s voice through your headphones as you slowly began to pleasure yourself and, with your mind being so far gone, you didn’t even realise that Cillian had returned home from his walk early as it was pouring with rain outside.
‘Y/N?’ he shouted through the house as you were nowhere to be found until, eventually, he realised that you may be in the bathroom.
With the bathroom door open, he looked inside only to find you with your eyes closed, facing the opposite direction towards the large one-sided window.
‘Y/N, shit, I am sorry’ he huffed out and, as you continued to run your hand up and down your naked body, he realised that you had your headphones in and didn’t hear him.
Cillian turned around quickly and you released a gentle moan that softly echoed in the bathroom. In your mind, you wanted him more with each touch of your hand but, of course, he didn’t know that.
When Cillian heard your moan, his manhood immediately went on alert and whilst he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help himself but turn back around and watch you.
Unbeknownst to you, Cillian watched you as one of your hands was massaging your breast while the other slowly spread your legs exposing more of your pussy to the warmth of the water. It crashed against your lips like waves in the ocean and they were pulsating, begging for more.
‘Jesus, look away, fuck’ he said to himself quietly inside his mind as he stood there motionless and with a raging erection. He wanted to strip down naked right there and join you and it took all of his willpower not to do exactly that.
‘Hmm’ you moaned again as you listened to Cillian’s voice through your headphones and took your fingertips and tightly squeezed your clit. You could feel your juices being released and your legs spread wide as your hand pressed and caressed your mound.
‘Fuck’ Cillian’s mind said again, urging him to walk away and, just as he had built up enough strength and turned around, he heard you again.
‘Cillian’ you huffed out but with your eyes still tightly closed and feeling each sensation you were creating as you indulged on the sound of his voice.
Cillian immediately turned around in a panic, thinking that you had caught him watching you. Why else would you have said his name, he wondered.
To his surprise, when he turned around in a panic, you still had your eyes closed and continued to pleasure yourself. Your hand was working over your mound from top to back and teasing both of your holes now and, with Cillian watching, you continued to touch and tease yourself, caressing the inside of your thighs.
Perhaps he was imagining you calling out his name he thought. You couldn’t possibly have said his name while you were masturbating. Clearly, his mind was playing tricks on him and he was sure about it.
Then, the unimaginable happened. You stood up inside the tub in all of your naked glory. Bubbles were running down your body and the smell of vanilla was in the air as you climbed out of the bathtub.
Cillian was quick to disappear into the hallway and thought that, perhaps, he should have closed the bathroom door. But then, he heard his name leaving your lips again and, just as he went back to see whether you were, in fact calling for him, he watched you lean against the vanity with your headphone still inside your ears and your fingers running over your outer walls of your pussy before teasing your clit with a soft abrasive touch.
In a trance and consumed by pleasure, you dropped your towel to the floor and squeezed your clit between your fingertips as you stood there with your eyes shut. The candle lights still danced in the room, bouncing off the water drops still on your soft skin.
All of your tattoos were on full display and so were your piercings, including the one on your clit which Cillian became rather curious about.
He could not take this any longer and watched you desperately as your body cried out and you responded by slowly inserting your index finger into your cavity and sliding it back out. You did this a few times until she pushed it in deep and held it there, massaging your inner walls. Then you added a second finger into your hot pussy pushing some of your juices out onto your hand.
Cillian swallowed harshly when, eventually, you removed your fingers from your hole and placed them one by one into your mouth, sucking them clean.
‘Jesus fucking christ’ he thought and, despite the fact that he knew that Lindsay would be visiting him in the next hour or so, he turned around and made a quick run to his bedroom.
Seeing you like this was too much for him and, without giving it a second thought, he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down half way in order to release his raging erection.
Leaning against the dresser in the bedroom, he began to stroke his hard shaft vigorously, thinking about what you did in the bathroom at the same time as he was seeking relief.
Just as Cillian was stroking his cock hard and fast while thinking about you, you thrusted your fingers in and out of your pussy while thinking of him. Eventually, you began to pound your pussy, slapping your clit with each thrust. Faster and harder bringing yourself to an orgasm.
Just as you came, your moans filled the entire house, thinking that you were on your own.
‘Oh god, yes Cillian’ you groaned and there was no mistaking it. It was his name he heard when you came and this alone sent him over the edge, causing him to cum hard onto the pile of dirty clothes besides the dresser.
Just as he stroked the last few drops of cum from his shaft, he heard the doorbell ring.
Quickly, he grabbed one of the t-shirts from the pile of clothes and cleaned himself up before walking downstairs and opening the front door.
‘Hey Sweetie’ Lindsay said, carrying two shopping bags.
‘You are early’ Cillian said before giving her a brief kiss.
‘I wanted to surprise you and thought I would cook for you. For Y/N too, of course. At least this way, you can finally introduce us properly and I don’t feel like your beck in call’ Lindsay explained.
‘Sounds great’ Cillian said somewhat flustered just as you walked through the hallway almost completely naked.
‘Oh my god, you are home…fuck’ you shouted, covering your breasts with a towel and Cillian couldn’t help but sigh.
He thought about you, calling out his name as you masturbated and now he was in his hallway with Lindsay who clearly wanted to mark her territory.
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