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the-slumberparty · 2 months

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Underneath the cocky persona is a man who deserves to be taken care of. Along with a confident woman who is able to see through him, the chemistry and bond sizzled. Wonderful job!

Oxytocin

Title: Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors – DNI

Fandom: Knives Out AU

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC (Ivy Kensington)

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: At a New Year’s Eve party, Ransom Drysdale’s life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

Warnings: age gap (Ivy is 38, Ransom is 19 in flashbacks), Mommy kink, Mommy Domme/baby boy, dry humping, orgasm denial, mention of virginity, aftercare, size kink, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing

A/N: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Ransom Drysdale BINGO were: dry humping, mommy kink, orgasm denial, virginity, size kink. Submission for @the-slumberparty’s Eight Types of Love February 2024 Sleepover Challenge(Pragma – longstanding love). Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta, you saved me from myself!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

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Spotify playlist is here.

My Masterlist

From the moment he laid eyes on her, Ransom’s world stopped. The sound of her laughter, the glow of her chestnut skin, the way her deep brown irises held his focus; he couldn’t choose his favorite of her attributes. He watched as she commanded the attention of the room as she regaled her guests with tales of her various adventures traveling the globe.

He was only nineteen when he met her that New Year’s Eve night. Ivy Kensington. She was thirty-eight and newly divorced. The poor bastard that let her slip through his fingers must be insane, Ransom thought to himself. He loved how lively she was, as if divorce was exactly what she needed to feel alive.

He doesn’t know what possessed him that night to walk right up to her but, God help him, he thanks his lucky stars that he did. As he approached her, his hopes were high. Until she noticed him, turning to acknowledge the younger man. When he went to open his mouth, it flopped open and then closed after several seconds of awkward silence.

A grin spread across her face before she spoke, “You have got to be Linda and Richard’s son. Handsome like your father, and venturesome just like your mother. Now, what did you walk all the way over here for? Looked like you were about to say something interesting,” she teased, a hand going to her hip as she shifted on her feet.

“Ransom. That’s my name. Uh, I just…what I mean to say is, um-”

“Slow down, baby boy,” she soothed, stopping him mid-ramble to step closer so she could hold his chin between her manicured thumb and forefinger, “What did you want to say, Ransom?”

Her gaze drew him in, and he instantly felt at ease, gaining his voice back. “I wanted to know if you had plans for midnight, Mrs. Kensington. You know, the kiss?” he asks, voice trembling only slightly.

“It’s Ms. Kensington. You want to be my midnight kiss?” she questioned, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at him, “That is very bold of you to ask, especially coming from a virgin,” she said matter-of-factly.

His eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead at the mention of his still intact virginity. Up to this point, no one knew he’d never been laid. He’d had his share of kissing, sure. Every time he wanted to go the distance, it never panned out. But how could she tell?

“You’re wondering how I know. You just have that look about you. Not necessarily innocent, more like naïve. And damn lucky that I don’t already have a kiss lined up. Meet me up there at midnight,” she instructed, peeking up the stairs to the area overlooking the party.

All Ransom could do was nod, for fear that opening his mouth would be a repeat of his earlier blunder.

“Now, shoo. I have other guests to entertain, and that precious face of yours will surely divert my attention,” she insisted, her hand patting his baby-faced cheek as she walked around him.

Ransom was left gobsmacked. He succeeded at talking to a woman. Well, he only succeeded with her help, but he’s not gonna mention that if anyone asks. For all intents and purposes, he’s arranged a secret rendezvous with an older woman. No elaboration was necessary, according to him at least.

For the next few hours, Ransom not-so-sneakily kept an eye on wherever Ivy went. He wouldn’t call it stalking her. He was just protecting his interests. He watched as man after man came up to Ivy, crowding her personal space. Ransom was seething quite visibly until he saw how elegantly she dispatched each potential suitor, politely letting them down and sending a look his way to let him know she saw him in the crowd.

He stopped sneering as much after that. She could handle herself just fine without him lurking. He knew that now, but it didn’t stop his eyes from searching for her the rest of the night.

As 9 turned into 10 and 10 turned into 11, he busied himself with sitting on one of the exquisite phthalo green velvet couches in the parlor. He looked at all the knickknacks that Ivy must have picked up on various excursions around the world. For a moment, he felt like he may be underwhelming to such an amazing woman. But he let that thought die as people started to count down from ten in the other room.

He moved swiftly through the crowd, taking the long staircase two steps at a time to get to the top where Ivy stands waiting for him. Standing in front of her, his focus tied to her and only her. As the partygoers counted down to 1, his hand snaked around her shorter form and pulled her close.

Their breaths mingled; body heat was shared between them. The instant their lips met; it was over. As if the entire party vanished, neither of them tried to keep the kiss innocent. Deepening the kiss, Ransom used his tongue to massage hers, eliciting a deep rumbling moan out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Emboldened by his position, he let his hand slide down past the small of her back to her ample backside. Giving it a healthy squeeze, he sighed into the kiss when she tangled her fingers in his hair.

As Ivy broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against his as they both caught their breath. Ivy lifted her head and smiled as she saw her garnet-toned lipstick smeared across his lips. He looked thoroughly debauched between the makeup on his face and the state of his hair. This simply would not do.

At his furrowed brow, she removed herself from his embrace and took his hand in hers. Pulling him down the long hallway, they entered the master bedroom and made their way to the attached bathroom. He finally caught his reflection in the mirror as she grabbed a makeup wipe from the cabinet. She cleaned his face while holding his jaw as if she thought he would try and escape from her grip. His gaze stayed on her face the entire time.

It had been so long since someone cared for him in this way. He watched as she threw away the wipe in the trash and finger-combed through his hair, making him presentable once again. In a flash, he was in a trance, something he couldn’t put a finger on. He felt so safe with Ivy like she could tell him to do anything, and he would do it without question. He was so deep into subspace that he barely registered Ivy calling his name as he blankly stared at her.

“Ransom? Talk to me, baby,” she encouraged, the back of her hand sweeping down his cheek. His eyes closed as she administered the simple yet desirable touch.

His mouth opened as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, but no words followed his actions. Ivy guided him back to the bedroom to sit down on the King-sized bed. All the while, he remained focused on her.

“Alright, baby boy, you gotta help me out here. Where did you go? Come on back to Mommy,” she prodded, surprised when Ransom bit his lip at her use of the word Mommy. Her eyes grew dark, and she understood instantly what he needed from her.

She instructed him to lay back on the bed and he did so promptly. The tent in his pants highlighted his arousal as she climbed over his lap. His hands moved on their own to pull her hips flush with his, but she swatted them away.

“Ask for permission to touch Mommy, baby boy,” she directed, her hands ghosting over his chest as he breathed shallowly.

“May I please touch you, Mommy?” he begged, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“After being so polite, how can I say no to my baby boy?” she conceded, reaching up to let the top of her dress down so her breasts could spill out, “You may touch Mommy, baby.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” he mewled, gripping one breast in each hand as she sat down on his clothed cock.

She felt his length and girth with how hard he was. He felt the heat coming from her pussy as she ground into him. They both felt the intensity in the air surrounding them. When Ivy leaned down to let Ransom suckle her breast, he did so with a little too much enthusiasm at first. Once he got into a rhythm, he relished that he was able to pull soft whines from her.

Soon enough, he began to feel the tightening chokehold of his impending orgasm. He stopped sucking on her tits and chased after his inevitable end. But he was interrupted by Ivy’s words and the abrupt halt of her hips.

“Baby boy, if you want to cum tonight, you’re gonna need to make Mommy cum first. Is that understood?” she challenged.

“Yes, Mommy,” he sputtered, groaning when she started to grind into him again.

She rode him like her life depended on it, and honestly, when an orgasm was on the horizon, it felt pretty on the nose. He watched her face as she succumbed to the continuous poking of the tip of his dick into her swollen nub. He coveted the way her legs tightened around him, imagining what it would feel like to be inside her when she cums.

That thought proved to be overwhelming and while she was coming down from her high, he followed right after her. Like waves crashing into a pier, his climax washed over him. White-hot heat rushed through his cock as it spilled his jizz inside his pants. Ivy, in all her glory, never stopped riding him as he came. Even as it became too much and he whimpered for her to stop, she only slowed down. She enjoyed it so much, watching him fall apart under her.

As a tear escaped his eye, she let up on her cruel punishment of his overworked length. She removed herself from his lap and crawled up the bed to take him in her arms. His breathing had calmed down and he laid his head against her chest, idly sucking on one nipple as he lay there. He looked up into her eyes and she smiled down at him, effortlessly putting him at ease.

They stayed that way until Ransom started to squirm in her arms, surely not enjoying the way his cum was starting to dry against his skin. She cleaned him up in the bathroom, her mouth gaping open when she finally caught sight of the sheer size of his cock. If she was ever going to get to ride it, she would need a lot of prep. He put a hand over hers when she unconsciously began to pump his soft penis.

She thought he had been trying to get her to stop but was surprised when he only wanted to change the pace of her hand. He threw his head back when she tightened her fist and knelt in front of him. Watching her through heavy-lidded eyes, he babbled nonsense for a moment until his balls drew up and he shot milky ropes into her waiting mouth. His hands went to her shoulders and unsteady legs doing their best to hold him up after blowing his load twice.

He had heard of post-nut clarity, but he was experiencing something completely different. Perhaps akin to love, but not as deep. He watched as she swallowed, warmth spreading through his chest. Maybe he was wrong, feeling more and more entranced by Ivy with every second they spent together.

She fixed her dress and her lipstick, leaving the red smudges on his cock with a smile as she zipped him up. She took him further down the hall to a hidden stairwell that led into the kitchen. They had evaded any prying eyes from partygoers, making it seem like they had been in this room the whole time.

Famished from earlier activities, they munched on hors d’oeurves and made comfortable small talk. All earlier nervousness was a distant memory as they laughed and carried on like two lovesick teenagers.

Well, like one lovesick teenager and a grown-ass woman. At this point, age was nothing but a number. A number that neither of them cared about. They exchanged numbers, making a point to see one another again.

Eventually, they made it back into the party. Ivy made sure to say a lengthy farewell to Ransom’s parents, praising them for raising such a gentleman much to the shock of Richard and Linda, but they recovered gracefully. Shortly thereafter, the Drysdales made their exit.

During the car ride home, Richard joked that Ransom had a schoolboy crush on Ivy. ‘If they only knew,’ he thought to himself.

Over the rest of his winter break from college, Ransom spent more and more time with Ivy where she taught him tip after hint after trick about pleasing a woman. It was less out of the goodness of her heart and more about the kismet between them. She enjoyed his banter as much as his body. He loved coming to her place for a home-cooked meal and the company of a woman who thought the world of him.

When the winter break ended, Ransom spent his last night in town with Ivy. Of course, his parents showed barely any interest in the fact that he was leaving early or who he was spending his time with. In their eyes, he was not only an adult, but also no longer their problem.

Ransom had hoped that finally, Ivy would let him make love to her. But she felt a strange sense of moral obligation when it came to him losing his virginity. As much as she wanted to be his first, she didn’t want him to get even more attached to her. She knew he was in love, and if she let herself follow him, it would not end pretty. Better to end their little doomed romance now, before either of them could get hurt.

Explaining all of this to him went better than she expected. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, jaw tightening as he looked away from Ivy. She counted to five before reaching a hand to his shoulder, surprised when his hand covered hers.

Unshed tears shone in his eyes when he turned to look back at her again. Maintaining eye contact, he brought her hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of her knuckles. He still relished the way her breath caught in her throat when he showered her with affection.

“No matter what happens, just remember this moment. It’s just us here, no one else. If this is the last moment we share, let’s make it worth it,” he pressed, praying for all the world that she would change her mind.

“Ransom, this isn’t exactly easy for me. I want you, please know that. But you deserve to have a relationship with someone. Perhaps, someone closer to your age. Someone with shared experiences. I would only be holding you back. That is my honest opinion,” she sniffed, continuing to reluctantly push him away.

“I won’t ever stop wanting you. You make me feel things I never thought were possible. I just wish I could give you a fraction of what you give me,” he lamented.

“Trust me, you have made an impact on my life. Who knows? Maybe one day down the line, we could get together and get a cup of coffee and laugh about this,” she hinted, hoping he would take her olive branch.

“I hope we can. I’m gonna hold you to it,” he beamed, a grin painting his features and replacing the sad look he once wore, “I should get going, I guess.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said, standing and letting him lead the way.

She wasn’t surprised at all when he kissed her neck while hugging her. Nor when he predictably trailed kisses over her jaw and up to her lips. But she couldn’t hold back her delight when he nibbled at her bottom lip and soothed away the sting with his tongue.

For a moment, when he leaned back from her, they just looked into each other’s eyes. Nothing was said because words were unnecessary at this point. Every moment, every kiss, every shared laugh was worth it to be able to share this last long gaze.

As soon as Ivy closed the door behind Ransom, she slumped to the floor and cried her eyes out.

That night, as he drove home from Ivy’s estate, Ransom shed tears all the way back to his dorm room.

17 Years Later

Ransom is in town for a New Year’s Eve party thrown by his grandfather. He’s grown to loathe the damned holiday and it’s not a wonder why. He’s only there to make an appearance and swiftly leave before having to make awkward small talk with his parents. While sneaking into the kitchen to find the secret stash of cookies, he overhears a sound he hasn’t heard in so long but would recognize it anywhere.

He follows the source of the laughter and is astounded to see her standing and speaking to his grandfather. Entering the living room fully, he clears his throat and they both look at him. The look on Ivy’s face of pleased anticipation threw gasoline on a fire in his soul that he thought had long gone out.

“Ivy Kensington, I’d like to introduce you to my oldest grandson. Ransom Drysdale, meet Ivy,” Harlan remarks, not knowing that these two are very well-acquainted already. Harlan excuses himself, leaving them alone in the room.

“Ransom, I-”

“You look amazing,” he blurts, cutting her off before she can say anything.

They share a laugh, a moment of excitement and comfort between them. Staring into each other’s eyes told them everything they needed to know.

And as the partygoers start to count down from 10, they realize they have been sitting in the living room for hours exchanging stories of the past and what they were up to now. The worries they had once upon a time were all gone. All that was left was the sliver of opportunity that wafted in the air once they shared a kiss.

The passion was there as if it was still so many years ago. As if Ransom didn’t have laugh lines or crow’s feet when he smiled. As if Ivy wasn’t sporting a few perfectly groomed grey hairs sprouting about in her curls. As if that final goodbye wasn’t all that final.

And that was as good a place as any to start.

A/N: OK so this was my first time writing Ransom and I made him kinda soft as puppy toes in most of this. I hope you enjoy it.

**Tag List**

@blackwood4stucky @peyton-warren

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale x black!ofc #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating!

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the-slumberparty · 2 months

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A natural fit with these two, I hope she takes them up on the offer to hang out again. Incredible!

Agape: Ooh Wee

Summary: the one-two punch of a satisfying night and a peaceful morning might be too much for Taylor to resist

Pairing: unravel me!Timothée Chalamet and black!reader x Taylor Russell

A/n: the beginnings of a possible future polyam relationship 🥰 yes there’s a lot of stuff that I have that’s canonically gonna come before this but I dont pass up a good opportunity for inspiration to get something done 😭 and happily @the-slumberparty provided me one! From my unravel me universe, this little installment is 1.2k words! Minors, ageless and blank blogs, and serial-likers “just here for fics” DNI

Taylor woke to the sound of a phone alarm. Her groan chorused with two others, a warm naked body curling further into hers and the arm under her head retracting. You whined as you stretched, getting out of the bed. Through cracked lids, Taylor admired the muscles move under your bare skin, the corner of her lips pulling up as she saw your glutes clench as you reached your arms high and did a little backbend. You turned off the alarm, triggering a sigh of relief against Taylor’s shoulder blades.

Timmy cuddled up to her back, nuzzling his face into her neck and snaking the arm around her waist a little tighter. You turn around as you put on a pair of basketball shorts and a big tshirt. A lazy smile spreads across your face as you see her eyes half-opened. Fleetingly, you caress her face before skirting around the bed and heading out the bedroom door, closing it back softly.

Her eyes drifted closed again, willing to let sleep reclaim her. She was tiredt. The memory of last night still throbbed dully between her legs and scratched at her throat. If she canvassed her body, she was sure it’d be stamped across her skin as well; hickeys and love marks strewn about her body like confetti. Last night had been a blissful escape for her. Surrendering control to you and Timothée had made her feel weightless. The couple she met at the bar spent the night learning her body with sensual diligence and used it like a toy, plying her with immeasurable pleasure and taking the same for themselves.

The sordid thoughts must have carried her back to sleep, because the next time she woke, it was because of the smell of bacon. A scent that made her remaining bed partner stir as well. Timothée unwrapped from around her and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms above his head and pointing his toes before relaxing again. His head lolled to the side, meeting her gaze sleepily.

“You need anything washed?”

She thought about her outfit from the night before, still littering the foot of the bed probably. Taylor shook her head. “No, it should be fine.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, kissed her forehead, then rolled out of bed himself. Taylor watched his pale, lanky form round the bed and open the same drawers you had earlier, tossing sweats and a tshirt onto the bed for her before pulling on boxers and sweats for himself.

Timothée patted her foot under the comforter on his way out to the kitchen. He left the door open, giving Taylor a full view of him approaching you at the stove, giving you a deep, loving kiss. You pushed him back by the throat.

“Trouble, go set the table.”

He smirked. “Not even noon and I’m already Trouble?”

“Yes. You’re gonna make me burn something. Taylor, you got any food allergies? Strong dislikes?”

She blinked at being addressed. Being included. She finally sat up, grabbing the clothes provided for her. She couldn’t even tell which of yours she was wearing. “No; whatever’s fine.”

Tim filled and started the electric kettle, wincing as he clumsily dug the heel of his hand along his spine. “My back hurts.”

“Makes sense, it was broken last night.”

He thumped you as Taylor snorted. “She’s mean to me.”

“’Cause it makes you hard,” you say as you kiss his forehead on the way to putting biscuits on the table.

Taylor is baffled again as she sat at the third place setting, a small breakfast of eggs, biscuits, bacon with jam and honey in the middle of the small round table. She only met these two last night, but they include her in their morning routine like she’s a regular fixture. Tim popped a pain med with his smoothie, nudging the bottle towards her with his knuckles.

“In case you need it. Sorry if you prefer Tylenol, we're an ibuprofen household.”

The breakfast is spent with idle conversation, you encouraging her to have your fill, Timothée topping off her tea almost as soon as she puts the empty mug on the table.

Plate empty, you groaned as you laid on your folded arms at the table. “Need something sweet.”

“Want some of my smoothie?” Timothée offered.

“No your smoothies taste like health. I want a milkshake.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes before taking a sip. “Well, we’re fresh out of that.” He turned his attention to Taylor. “I gotta go to campus today so whenever you’re ready, I can drop you home.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool!”

In Timothée’s car, the two cruised in comfortable silence on the way back to campus. Music played from one of his playlists and even though the lyrics were raunchy, the vibes were definitely easy morning music. It fit him well. Both of you actually, Taylor had to admit.

“Do you want a milkshake?” Tim spoke up, interrupting her introspection. “I’m gonna pick Y/n one up.”

“I thought she was joking.”

“Y/n is never joking about milkshakes.”

Taylor laughed, “I’m good.”

“‘Kay, then I’ll go after I drop you off.”

“So… how did y'all meet? On, like, a BDSM app or something?”

He snorted, a smile pulling at his lips. “No, we were much stupider. We were roommates.”

“Ohmigawd you were roommates.” She responded. Reflexive. Obligatory. “But wait seriously?! There has to be a story there!”

“Oh yes there is. One day she came home early from a canceled class and um… well… long story short, she caught me masturbating to fantasies of her—.”

“What?!”

“— and we’ve just been together ever since! She wouldn’t really call herself a domme; she was just called to it because she met my super bottom ass. And she’s taken to it like a fish to fucking water, I’ve never felt more cared for. She was destined for it, I swear.”

“‘Super bottom’? You?”

He smirked and glanced at her sideways. “I’ve been known to switch things up occasionally, but referring to last night: aren’t I just really good at following orders?”

Memories clouded over her mind’s eye. Of you guiding Timothée’s hand over her body, of him asking you permission to take her mouth, of Timothée using Taylor’s body the way you told him to. You ruined Taylor last night and Timothée was the perfect helper, a wonderfully skillful and obedient assistant. He’d enjoyed the novelty of pulling someone’s strings, Taylor could tell last night in his dreamy smirks and hooded forest eyes.

“You’re very good at that.”

He hummed. “Right in the praise kink. Thanks, babe.” He laughed pulling up to a stop in front of her dorm. One hand on the wheel, he turned and gave her a warm smile.

“Last night was fun. Let us know if you wanna do it again.” He shrugged. “Or just hang out. You’re pretty cool.”

Taylor wasn’t looking for a relationship. Her accelerated course track towards early graduation took all of her working braincells. She spent three hours convincing herself to go to the bar she met the two of you at last night in the first place. But damn did being under both of you render her blissfully thoughtless.

Yeah, she couldn’t maintain the energy and devotion a relationship would demand. But after experiencing the depravity of last night and the domesticity of this morning?

She may just take him up on hanging out.

#timothée chalamet x black!reader x taylor russell #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating!

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the-slumberparty · 2 months

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A sweet tale for these two who served happiness. Wonderful! ❤️

This Spells Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Best friends to lovers)

Word Count: 2,782

Summary: Bucky is your best friend and he really is the best but he wants more, he wants everything, but the idea that it could ruin your friendship and he could lose you is too much...

Author's Note: This is for @the-slumberparty February Sleepover Challenge, Eight Types of Love and Philia (deep friendshp-friends to lovers). Our reader is a bit oblivious to Bucky's feelings but it all works out just fine in the end. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!

Warnings: lots of fun and fluff and sweetness and Bucky being the best and some tension and a bit of flirty fun too, slightly oblivious reader.

The groan Bucky lets loose makes you spin your head to look at him.

“Did you say something?” you ask, trying to speak loud enough over the din of the bar.

He shakes his head no and digs his teeth into his bottom lip when you smile and shift again in his lap, turning back to your group of friends. Every time you move it’s sweet torture but he can’t seem to keep himself away…and besides, there are no empty seats…he can’t let you stand and you wouldn’t want him to stand…so sitting in his lap it is!

His fingers dig into your thigh and you turn to face him again.

“Are you sure?” you ask, searching his face.

“Yeah, doll. All good.”

Steve shoots Bucky a smirk and Bucky shoots back a steady death glare.

“Did I miss something?” you ask Nat, who’s sitting to your left.

She just smiles and takes a sip of her drink.

You can feel Bucky’s warm breath on your neck before he speaks.

“You want another doll face?” he asks.

With a pensive tilt of your head you pause before telling him, “yeah, one more.”

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers against your ear.

He deposits you in the seat and walks toward the bar.

You instantly feel his absence and fiddle with your empty glass. You listen to Steve and Sam argue about their last run time while Nat and Wanda chime in, teasing both boys but the conversation starts to fade away when you feel the weight of Bucky’s eyes and you look toward the bar to catch him staring.

He waves awkwardly and you giggle.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to the table.

When you reach the bar Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up in question.

“You looked bored,” you shrug.

“Thanks doll,” he winks.

There are even more people by the bar and they continue to crowd around you, pushing to get closer. When someone bumps you particularly hard Bucky pins them with a murderous stare before he slips his metal arm around your waist and pulls you in front of him.

He settles both hands on the bar top on either side of you and leans his chin on your shoulder.

“Too many people,” he explains as his hard chest presses into your back.

You snuggle into the safety of his arms and wait for your drink.

“Are you ever gonna say something to her man?” Sam asks Bucky as they stand outside the bar with Steve.

You, Wanda and Nat are in the bathroom.

“About what?” Bucky asks with an incredulous expression.

Sam rolls his eyes and Steve’s hands land on his hips.

“Buck,” Steve sighs. “You’re torturing yourself.”

“No I’m not,” Bucky counters. “Not having her at all would be torture.”

His last words come out quietly and Sam and Steve give each other a knowing look.

“Well, I still think you should do something…say something…she might feel the same way. What have you got to lose?” Sam asks.

“Everything,” Bucky answers as he watches you come out the door and back to his side.

As you walk down the street toward your apartment building you can feel Bucky staring so you give him a sideways glance.

“It’s the shoes, isn’t it?” he demands when he catches your eye.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say and lift your chin.

“This always happens at the end of the night doll face. You wear these shoes and they hurt your feet and then I’m supposed to just watch you suffer.”

“I have a solution,” you chime with a determined smile.

He stops walking to watch as you slip off your shoes and place your bare feet back onto the sidewalk with a contented sigh.

When you see Bucky’s scowl it makes your smile widen. “What’s the problem now Barnes?”

“Put them back on doll. You’re going to step on something like broken glass or worse…”

You spin away with a breeze and start walking again but before you get very far your feet leave the ground and you’re cradled against his chest.

“You were put on his Earth to drive me crazy; you know that doll face?”

“I’m not sorry about it,” you whisper into the collar of his shirt. “Does that make me a bad person?”

You giggle when you feel his huff of frustration.

“No. You could never be a bad person.”

As you nuzzle closer and inhale his familiar scent you express a quiet, “thank you,” before yawning.

“Too tired for the stars tonight?” he asks as his arms flex to heft you higher.

“No! I love when we look at the stars.” You tilt your head back and look at the sky. “It’s a clear night too.”

“Don’t you like it?” you ask, bringing your eyes back to his.

“I love it,” he says. “Just like I love when you practice new baking recipes and I get to taste test them all.”

“That’s fun for me too except that you say you like everything I bake! It can’t all be that good.”

You lay a soft hand against his scruffy cheek and the corner of his mouth kicks up.

“It’s all that good,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Well the next time my macaroons don’t have good feet you better speak up Buck!”

“Macarons have feet…not macaroons…big difference,” he says.

You hum against his neck with a smile. “I know that. Just making sure were paying attention.”

His hold on you tightens slightly and he looks down just as your eyes start to close.

He’s always paying attention.

Bucky slows his steps and turns on his heels, watching as Sam and Steve approach.

“Man you two are slow today,” he teases.

Steve purses his lips and throws a thumb in Sam’s direction. “I’m just trying to keep this one company.”

Sam grunts out a string of curses and plops down on the nearby bench.

“I can’t stand either of you,” Sam says between catching his breath.

“I have to make a phone call,” Bucky states as he saunters off for some privacy.

He presses your name on the screen and puts it to his ear.

“Hiya doll face,” he says when you pick up.

“Hi Buck!”

“Are you on your way home yet?”

“I am.”

“Pizza?”

“Sure, I’m starving…”

“Me t…”

“Of course you are,” you cut in. “You’re always hungry.”

He laughs. “Well I did just finish a run.”

“I’ll meet you at my place?” you ask.

“Sounds good, how much time do you need?”

You open your mouth to answer but the words die on your lips when your foot catches a crack on the sidewalk and you careen forward.

“Doll?” Bucky asks, “you still there?”

He hears scuffling but you still don’t answer.

“Doll?”

His heart beats faster the longer you don’t reply and instinctively his feet start to carry him toward your workplace.

“Where are you goin’?” Sam asks as Bucky runs by.

“Everything ok?” Steve asks.

“I gotta go,” is all Bucky says as he starts jogging.

He’s already half way to you when you pick your phone up off the concrete and try to say hello. The screen is cracked and black and you curse under your breath.

“Bucky?” you say softly but your phone is dead.

You try to put pressure on your ankle but it hurts and with a wince you scoot backwards to avoid the foot traffic. You search the crowd, waiting for someone to stop and help but it isn’t until you see Bucky rush toward you that you feel true relief.

He’s at your side, kneeling on the concrete and running his eyes over every inch of you. He’s sweaty and breathing heavily and one of the most welcoming sights you’ve ever seen.

“Thank fuck,” he breathes out. “I was worried sick.”

You start to say you’re sorry but he interrupts you.

“You tripped didn’t you?” he asks.

You nod.

“How?”

“My foot…got stuck. I don’t even know.”

He stares at you blankly before pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opens his mouth to speak you clap a hand over it.

“I know…I’m clumsy and I have to be more careful…just take me home.”

His expression softens.

“Of course doll, it’s a good thing I’m here.”

“It is,” you echo. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He gently brushes his fingers over your ankle, inspecting it.

“Come on doll. Let’s get some ice on this.”

When you reach the door of your apartment Bucky props you up against his side, his hand secured around your waist and his fingers slipping under your shirt when he moves so you can get your keys.

He sucks in a breath at the contact and you give him a confused look.

“What happened?”

“Nothin’,” he answers, willing his fingers to stay put and not explore your soft skin. “Got your keys?”

“Right here,” you say and hand them over.

He unlocks the door and helps you inside.

“We forgot the pizza!” you say, whirling around and nearly falling over since you’re mostly supporting yourself on one leg.

He reaches out and snakes his arm around your waist again. “Woah, careful doll face.”

You place a palm on his chest and lean into him. “I’m hungry.”

“I’ll order a pizza right now. Don’t worry.”

“Order two. You practically eat a whole one yourself.”

“True,” he winks.

He pulls out his phone and starts to dial the pizza place.

“Wanna stay and watch a movie?” you ask.

His fingers pause and hover over the buttons as he looks up at you. “Which movie?”

“Hmm…how about Magic Mike?”

“Doll.”

“Alien?”

“You won’t sleep for weeks,” he says with a stern look.

“Fine! What about…” and you tap your chin.

“Notting Hill,” he suggests.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“Sure,” he shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “Steve said I should watch it.”

You give him a wide smile and push from his grasp, limping toward your bedroom. Bucky watches until you safely sit yourself on the bed and then goes to the freezer to grab a frozen bag of vegetables.

“I can’t wait until the pizza gets here,” you sigh as you start to unbutton your shirt. He tries to focus on what you’re saying but when you pull the fabric from your shoulders and reveal the light camisole beneath he suddenly feels like a trapped animal needing to either pounce or run away at full speed.

“Will you put the movie on Buck? I don’t want to get up again.”

You collapse back onto the bed and needing the closest distraction he takes the bag of peas and places it on your ankle, adjusting it so it doesn’t fall.

“Thanks,” you say. “Don’t forget the movie Buck.”

He blinks at you several times. “You want to watch it in here? What about the couch?”

He gestures to himself. “Look at me. I can’t get in your bed like this. I’m a sweaty mess.”

“You smell good to me but if you want to shower, there are extra towels in the hall closet.”

You hear the water turn on a few minutes later and realize you’re thirsty so you peel yourself off the bed and limp to the kitchen, knowing Bucky will reprimand you when he realizes you got up without his help.

Once you have your water you go back to your bedroom and wait for the shower to turn off, closing your eyes briefly.

You don’t even realize you’ve lightly dozed off until you hear Bucky’s heavy tread on the wood floor. You open your eyes and see him standing in the doorway, filling the entire frame.

Shirtless. Skin still shiny with wetness and his jeans sitting low on his hips, revealing the V shape of his muscles. And then you drag your eyes higher and stare at his abs, now flexing as he lifts the towel and rubs it over his hair one last time.

His metal arm shines under the bright lights in your room, distracting you further but not enough to miss the droplet of water that escapes the swipe of the towel and rolls down his sharp jaw before sliding down his neck and between his pecs. It get’s lost somewhere in the valleys of his six pack but your eyes move down again, landing on the dark trail of hair below his belly button.

“Did you forget I was here doll face?” he asks.

The sound of his voice pulls you from your haze and your eyes shoot up to his.

“No…” you start. “I just…I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“How?”

“Doll did you hit your head when you fell?”

“NO!” you answer far too loudly. “It’s not that. I’m fine. My ankle just hurts but I don’t understand how you have those abs.”

You motion to his stomach and he looks down.

“You eat whole pizzas!”

He throws his head back with a laugh and then drops the towel into your hamper. He’s still grinning when he rounds the bed and climbs in behind you, all his muscles flexing as he settles in.

“Yeah well, I run a lot…and you know the serum helps.”

Your laughter eases the tension a little but only until he places his hands beneath his head and stretches out, making your bed feel tiny.

“Why don’t you ever bring girls around Buck?”

Your question surprises both of you and your apology catches in your throat.

He sits up without warning and reaches for your glass of water, taking a long sip.

“Forget I asked,” you mumble. “I shouldn’t have.”

He shakes his head and takes another drink.

“Do you want me to bring girls around?”

Your immediate reaction is to inwardly scream NO! but instead you ask, “would we still be able to hang out like we do?”

“Probably not doll face,” he says and shifts closer. “Pretty sure you’d make any girl jealous.”

“Then no,” you whisper. “No girls.”

You look away with the admission and then blurt out.

“You smell like my bodywash now. Did you use my shampoo too?”

“Nah,” he murmurs. “Just used the bar soap.”

You face him again and then lean over to sniff his head.

“You definitely used it, don’t lie!”

Capitalizing on having you so close Bucky wraps his arm around you and draws you against his side. Your head lands on his shoulder and you instantly relax, feeling safe and warm.

“You smell good. I like it,” he murmurs.

“I like the way you smell better,” you say sleepily, mumbling something else incoherent before you start to doze off.

You wake slowly and as the heaviness of sleep wears off you open your eyes to partial darkness and become acutely aware of the hum of anticipation that travels over your sensitized and warm skin. You feel taut and the building pressure between your legs makes you rub your thighs together.

Bucky’s steadying breath makes you turn in his arms, your chest brushing his. You can feel your pulse beat against your skin, pounding wildly all over your body.

For long seconds you study his face and then your eyes are obscured by your lashes when your gaze travels lower, over his bare chest and then even lower to the obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Bucky I…”

Your eyes lock for a fleeting moment and then his gaze drops to your mouth. He dips his head, running his nose along your jaw until his lips lightly brushing the skin of your cheek.

“If you want me to stop…tell me now.”

You say nothing, his delicate touch making your entire body tremble. Then his lips graze yours, just barely, the quick taste not nearly enough.

“Or now…”

Your eyes are closed and you make no sound.

He presses his lips to yours, softly at first, searching and waiting for you to react but when a moan gathers at the back of your throat it’s all the reassurance he needs and he sweeps his thumb across your cheek, cradling your face and angling your head for a deeper taste.

When he rolls his hips you feel the fullness of his arousal against your belly and your lips part on a gasp. A low growl rumbles in his chest and he pulls away to look at you.

“Is that for me?” you ask, still breathless.

“It’s all yours…if you want it.”

His eyes darken with the words and you see the heat in his intense gaze but it only makes you feel coveted and safe.

“I want you Bucky. I don’t want anyone but you.”

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814

#bucky barnes x reader #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 2 months

Text

The tension, the imagery, and the game Nick played. You were his the moment you stepped into his forest. Beautifully done!

The Only Way of Knowing You [Nick Fowler x Reader]

Title: The Only Way of Knowing You Characters/Pairings: leshy!Nick Fowler x curvy female!Reader Word Count: 7.8k

Summary: When you visit a cabin, you're drawn more and more to the forest, the flora and fauna, and a handsome stranger you cross paths with in the woods.

Content Warnings: explicit smut - nipple play, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, initial consent to questionable/dubious consent ending, kidnapping, intimidation, implied stalking and explicit stalking, human to monster transformation, monster fucking

Logistical Notes: Very belated, but this is my addition to the Enchanted Birthday Fest and my humble gift to all of you who come around and read what I write. Incorporating Mania (obsessive love - stalking) for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love challenge. Thank you @goldylions and @sgt-seabass for blasting this with your beta energy. It certainly benefitted from your poking, prodding, and polishing.

Narrative Notes: There's a lot of leshy lore that's evolved over time since differing versions existed across Europe and you've got modern media takes. I took pieces that stuck out to me as I combed through. The most significant trait I adopted was that a leshy king could shape shift into human or animal and would adopt disguise to hide, adapt, or even lure people into the forest.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You gasped and stopped on the trail.

“A dog,” you whispered to no one but yourself, a grin splitting across your face.

The wilderness of the forest around you rose into a small, banked ridge on the left. You had only just heard the rustle of leaves that drew your attention over to that side to see the creature. You couldn’t tell the breed for sure – all dark fur, pointed ears, looking something between a husky and a wolf – but with him being so calm and willing to come this close to the path when he’d undoubtedly heard you walking, you assumed he couldn’t be too wild or feral. He had piercing blue eyes that locked with yours.

You were so tempted to try to call him over, but if he was wild, it was probably better not to, and if he belonged to someone, you didn’t want to lead him away from where he needed to go.

So, after another beat, you continued along your path.

After the four hour drive to your destination with some of the team from your office, as soon as you had unloaded and eaten lunch, you had been eager to get away to stretch your legs and to have some time away from everyone else, and you had some time before the rest of the team arrived for the work retreat your boss had put together. You had six days of training, strategizing, and team bonding ahead of you with a professional consultant and facilitator flown in who had built the agenda. There were breaks built throughout the day, and as you set off for this first walk, you imagined both the physical movement and the time away from the group would help keep you focused, energized, and from actually strangling your co-worker Rachel who regularly burst into song during casual conversation.

You saw the dog again as you took the same path the next day when your group took a mid-morning break. This time, he walked alongside your path, keeping his distance off to the side, but only kept pace with you for about five minutes before wandering off.

You were hopeful to see him when you headed out in the afternoon.

But instead of the dog, you encountered a man in almost the same area, approaching you on the path.

The man was dressed in sturdy hiking boots, dark jeans, a dark green flannel over a white shirt, and a tan jacket over that. He was tall, well-built, with short brown hair, and entirely too handsome a person to encounter in real life, especially with his devastatingly blue eyes – eyes that were the same color as the dog.

You groaned internally for comparing his eyes to the dog’s.

“Hello,” he said, nodding at you a few paces before you were about to pass each other.

“Hello,” you managed to return – it was mostly automatic, but the intensity of his gaze almost prevented you from the customary politeness of fellow trailwalkers.

After he passed, you shook your head. No need to be flustered by the momentary passing of a stranger.

You looked back over your shoulder, and then your heart thudded to discover that he was looking back at you, too. He smirked, turned, and kept along his way.

You shook your head at yourself and then kept on your way.

The walking path through the forest was narrow in parts, wider in others, and rambled on for a mile or so before it split, allowing its travelers to eventually circle clockwise or counter-clockwise around a still, blue body of water that was bigger than a pond but not quite large enough to be classified as a lake. The trees ran right down to the water in many areas, and the path, as it circled, sometimes came very close to its edges, and in other places only came within ten or fifteen meters of the shore.

On day three, you saw the man in the morning, and the dog in the afternoon.

The man, the same you saw before, came towards you after he'd done a circle around the lake. You reached the two forks before having to directly pass him, to which he waved and said hello, the same casual niceties.

In the afternoon, the dog approached you slowly but directly, and you knelt happily and held out your hand to encourage him to close the gap. He did, and after a quick sniff, let you pet him and scratch his ears.

“No collar?” you asked as you pet and admired his smooth, shiny coat.

After a minute, you stood and said, “You seem pretty familiar with this forest, well-fed, and so friendly. I don’t need to worry about you, do I?”

He circled you quickly, wagged his tail, and you laughed. “You want to join me for my walk this time?”

He trotted ahead a few steps, then looked back at you and waited.

You laughed. “I guess I’ll join you for this walk then.”

The two of you kept pace with each other all the way around the small lake, and then shortly after you got back to the main forest length, he trotted off the path into the forest again with only a small look back and a happy bark before bounding away.

That evening, because you had gone on so many walks, the rest of the group at the cabin decided to take an evening stroll around the lake. The planked wooden path made an adventure after dark doable enough. You didn’t see either of the strangers – dog or man – but there were a few times you had the keen sense you were being watched. In the dark it was impossible to tell, but the feeling came and went.

The next morning, you made your way down the deep forest path without encountering anyone and took the right fork to make your way around the lake.

At nearly the same place the dog had approached you the afternoon before, the man came striding your way from off the path.

“Hello,” he greeted as soon as he’d stepped out of the trees.

It was evident he intended to speak to you.

“Hello,” you said, trying to be friendly, but unsure how this would unfold, and a little nervous over engaging with the stranger.

Your heartbeat sped up the closer he got, but not because he was still a stranger, but because you were reminded he was altogether too handsome of a stranger. This was made even more obvious than your brief passings the previous two days, as now you could only stand still and watch as he approached you.

You remembered he was tall, but today he seemed taller. Those blue eyes had you rooted to the spot where you stood, and his face had a small but easy smile. You tried in vain to keep your heart from racing the closer he got.

“I’m Nick,” he offered, once he was close enough for conversation.

You gave your name in response.

“Nice to actually meet you,” he said as he stepped up onto the boardwalk. “You’re not from around here. Staying in one of the vacation cabins?” he guessed.

You nodded. “And you are from around here?” you surmised. “Do you live here? Work here? Both?”

“I suppose you could say both.” A calm but crips breeze swept through the trees around you, rustling through the leaves.

“Oh, are you the caretaker?”

“Guardian, caretaker, king of the forest,” he joked.

You laughed, and it was an easy laugh.

He echoed your laugh. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, of course, I do,” you said.

“If you let me join you, maybe I can prove my place here in the forest, share some of the history of the land, and some of my expert knowledge.” He raised his brow in a questioning look.

You were torn equally between hesitance and intrigue, but you were more unsure of how to decline, nor did you actually want to, so you nodded, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. He swept his arm to the side, gesturing at the path, and as you started walking, he fell right in step with you.

“So, what brought you to the forest?” he asked.

You explained how your boss had booked the large corporate retreat cabin for your team, planning many days of bonding and strategy conversations and leadership workshops with the consultant flown in from New York City.

As you walked together, he made good on his promise to tell you more about the forest and the lake. He pointed out some of the flora and fauna, showing his care and consideration for the wildlife and growth of the wilderness.

“It must be nice living out here.”

“You would like it.”

You looked over at him, finding he was already watching you, and then turned your head back to the path. “I think I might. Being out here the past few days has me contemplating quitting my job, selling off most of my stuff, and just finding a small cabin in the woods and writing or something.”

“You should.”His concentrated attention both unnerved you and put you at ease at the same time. It was a strange feeling. There was something within you that wanted more time with him like this, but it was silly to want. This was only your first conversation with him. You wouldn’t be spending day after day stumbling into walks with him any more than you would be abandoning your city life to embrace a secluded existence in a cabin in the forest.

But it might be nice, you thought.

“If only,” you finally sighed.

He was quiet for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “When are you supposed to leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He hummed in thought. “That seems like an awfully long cabin retreat for a team of colleagues.”

You laughed. “It certainly is. My boss has too much money and got very excited. It’s mostly a good office of people, and there are about ten of us here, but I definitely like my time away from the group – we’ve been encouraged to spend our breaks however we need.”

“And you took to your walks in the woods.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed and smiled softly. “Oh, actually, do you know about the black dog running around out here? I’ve seen him every other day, but not yet today.”

“He caught your heart, didn’t he?”

You grinned and nodded. “Does he have owners out here, or is he wild? He doesn’t have a collar.”

“No owners.”

“Not unlike you?”

“Oh, have I caught your heart, too?”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you tried not to let your pace falter. “I–”

He gave a chuckle, but he also let his fingers brush against yours as you continued to walk side by side. “Don’t worry, if I didn’t want to see you, I would know how to go unnoticed by you in this forest.”

“Oh.” It was a small response, especially compared to the burst of warmth that bloomed in your heart, but you weren’t quite sure how to respond. You were flattered with the flirting and his insinuation that he did want to see you. A whisper in the back of your mind wondered how many years he must have walked these woods to know its secrets and be so confident that he could wander it undetected, but he gestured for you to listen to the faint call of a pair of birds nearby. He identified them as veery thrushes, and then you were carried along into learning about them and some of the other animals that inhabited this area of the forest during the rest of your short morning walk.

Nick came across you walking again in the afternoon. He told you more about the forest and its history, but more and more he started to ask more questions about you.

You liked that he asked about you.

It seemed impossible that this unbelievably tall (was he even taller than he was before? Surely he wasn’t), dark, handsome man was so keen on your company, but you couldn’t help but take to him, and to the warmth of the attention he shined on you like the sun that filtered through the leaves of the trees to bathe the rest of the flora in the forest.

It may have been silly to dream about him that night when you went to sleep, but you had no real control over that, and although this whole excursion was for work, a small, inconsequential crush on someone you would never see again when you went home was fine.

The next morning, you didn’t run into him during your walk, but you were happy to run into your furry companion again, and he stayed right at your side while you took the loop around the lake. You were only a little sad there was no sign of Nick, but even though he clearly spent a lot of time there, you couldn’t expect him to always be in the woods.

So, when you were just starting along the path for your walk and hear footsteps coming up behind you, you eagerly looked over your shoulder, only to see two men walking some twenty to thirty yards behind you. You sighed and kept walking. You hadn’t seen a great deal of people on the trail over the past few days, but these weren’t the first strangers, as it was an area with enough scattered cabins throughout the forest to merit the establishment of the sturdy planked path in the first place.

But as you continued on, the men seemed to keep pace with you, speeding up when you did, and slowing down and maintaining some of the distance when you tested it, and that made you nervous. You would feel better even just to see the wild dog so you could call him to you. You were sure he would deter the men. But there was no sign of him either.

As you approached the fork that created the lake loop for the path, you didn’t know which to hope for – that they would take the other path and you would have to potentially pass them, or take the same one as you and you could hope that they would keep their distance.

They went the same way as you.

And they started to close the distance.

You thought you were imagining it at first, but when you increased your pace, theirs quickened even more, and there was no more of the hum of talking between them.

You didn’t want to panic and run. They both had a height advantage with longer legs, and if you could simply continue to walk more quickly, you could at least stave off the need to run until there was no more choice – because you were sure the second you ran, they would follow suit, and you didn’t know how long you’d last.

Especially now that your heart was already racing.

“Hey sweet thing,” one of them called out.

You focused on keeping your quick pace and didn’t look back.

“Nice day for a walk,” the same gruff voice added.

Still you refused to engage. You expected this now and then in the city, but it wasn’t supposed to happen out here. You didn’t have a phone to suddenly get on and call someone or keys in your pocket to thread through your fingers for makeshift protection.

“Nice day for more than a walk, don’t you think?” the second man chimed in.

“Yeah, maybe a little afternoon delight.”

Your skin crawled.

“A little fucking,” the second one jeered.

Maybe you did need to run.

And then suddenly at a bend in the path, you turned and there he was.

Nick.

Your heart leapt in relief, and you rushed to him.

He had to have instantly seen the panic in your eyes as his own blue eyes changed immediately into a dark storm, and he looked beyond you as he quickly strode forward to meet you. He saw the men immediately as they, too, turned around the bend, and you heard their footsteps slow immediately.

Nick pulled you into his side, wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Afternoon,” one of the men said, both of them nodding, trying to pass off casual greetings as if they hadn’t been closing in on you, making their intentions clear.

“Turn around, pack up, and leave this forest,” Nick said, voice flat and threatening.

“Hey! Look, man,” the other started, but Nick cut him off.

“Turn around, pack up,” he repeated, enunciating each word with more fury, “never come back.”

They stopped walking, putting them only ten yards away.

“Now,” Nick growled.

A ripple of fear shot through you at his tone, and it wasn’t directed at you. There was a sudden groaning and crashing of trees in the distance that only added to the tension of the moment, and then the two men turned around and retreated.

“I know where you’re staying. Don’t make the mistake of thinking my directions are idle or that I won’t check to make sure you’re gone,” he spoke loudly enough for them to hear as they got further away.

With them no longer in sight, Nick turned his full attention to you, taking both your hands in his. “You alright?”

You took a deep breath in then let it out to release the tension from the fear-driven adrenaline and nodded.

He murmured your name, pressing in concern, ducking slightly to gaze directly into your eyes.

You smiled softly at his worry, the seeds that bloomed earlier in your heart coming to life and blooming a bit more. “I’m fine now,” you reassured him, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Really,” you promised. “Not the first intimidating creeps I’ve ever encountered.”

“Okay.” His face relaxed, but only a fraction, and you had the impression it was only to help ease your tension. “If you’re sure.”

You nodded.

He dropped your hands, and you reminded yourself not to let your face drop as he did.

“Sorry I didn’t meet up with you earlier, I-“

You cut him off, “I wasn’t expecting you to meet up with me, and I don’t always get to steal away for these walks at the same time.”

He nodded. “I know. But I want to show you why time got away from me.”

“Okay.”

His face split into a bright smile. “Follow me,” he said, turning around and trekking into the trees.

You trailed behind him as the ground gently sloped toward the lake. The trees and underbrush were abundant yet thin enough to allow the two of you to pass through. The wooden path varied in how close it was to the lake as it wound around, and here it was less than a minute before you could see the water’s edge. Nick abruptly stopped and put his arm out for you to also stop.

Since he’d been walking so quickly, you did bump right up against his arm with a small mumbled, “sorry,” and he turned his head to smile. Then he turned to look ahead and pointed to a cluster of rocks right at the shoreline.

You squinted to study them, and then you gasped when two little furry heads popped up over the top of the rocks.

“Otters!” you whispered.

“Yes,” Nick confirmed. “Freshwater river otters. I think we’ve got a clan of at least four that have only appeared today in the lake. Probably migrated down the river from the lake further up. They’ve been getting a bigger tourist draw up there, and I imagine they don’t want to be constantly disturbed by humans encroaching on their habitat.”

He took slow, measured, unassuming steps closer, and you tentatively followed. The two otters both perched up higher on the rocks, giving tiny yelps.

Nick motioned for you to kneel as he did. He held out his hand toward the pair of mammals.

“They’re a curious and friendly species,” he said, and even as he said the words, the two darted up and over the rocks, coming closer by a few feet before pausing. The slightly larger one gave a little trill and took a couple more hops forward. Its companion sauntered right up next to it, but then took a few more steps forward, bopped its nose against Nick’s hand, huffed and turned away, darting right down the bank and into the water, gliding smoothly away. The other came forward, gave Nick’s outstretched hand a little more of a sniff, then turned its head to you, and edged your way. You quickly but carefully stretched your hand out, received a couple of sniffs, and then this otter also snorted and trotted away and into the water, trilling as it slipped into the clear water.

“No fish, no interest,” Nick said, and the two of you laughed.

He moved to sit on the ground, and you sat next to him. The pair of otters re-emerged, swam up to shore, and dove back in and out of the water frequently as the two of you watched and talked.

You only stayed there for a short space of time, and then Nick seemed to sense without you needing to prompt him that it was time to get back to your walk. He stood and gave you a hand up. He held onto your fingers for just an extra moment, looking at your hands together, before letting go and brushing himself off. You did the same, and then fell into step with him, heading back to the path.

Easy conversation, just like the day before, continued to flow between you. He appeared to have endless questions about you, and again his rapt attention was its own warm, addictive rush, and that thing in your heart continued to grow, vines starting to sneak out of your heart and around your chest.

Suddenly he stopped, and you stopped another step ahead and turned to look back at him. “What is it?”

“We’re at the spot that leads up to the cabin your group is staying in,” he answered, a broad smirk on his face.

“Oh,” your cheeks heated, and you ducked your head to laugh. “Oops.”

You didn’t want your last walk with him to suddenly be over.

“You’re quite taken with all of this, aren’t you? The forest calls to you.”

You let out a wistful sigh and looked back up at him. Damn those impossibly deep blue eyes. You were overcome with a terrible ache that radiated from the base of your throat and the top of your chest, and you desperately tried to tamp down the thick emotion.

“But I have to go home tomorrow.”

“Come walk with me tonight.”

You bit your lip.

“Come on,” he urged you. “It’s your last night, and it’s a full moon. You have to see the forest bathed in the full moon's light. Come with me.”

“Yes,” you heard the word tumble out of your mouth, unable to deny him.

His eyes darkened and sparkled. “I promise you’ll see things you’ve never seen before.”

Though Nick wasn’t far from your thoughts, you focused well enough on your last evening with the group, engaging in dinner and the evening’s bonding activities. Wine and mocktails were poured for a final night looking up at the stars around a fire in the firepit on the balcony, and you made sure to enjoy that time, too. You had liked some of your coworkers before the retreat, but now you had a better understanding and appreciation for all of them.

However, once it got closer to ten, you anxiously started taking stock of the minutes passing away further into the night. Two of your group said goodnight at ten, but that was too early. You determined you would do well to stay with the balcony group until at least half-ten so you didn’t get too anxious about seeing Nick later.

At ten-thirty, a few more peeled off from the group, and so you retired to your room so that your timely departure didn’t seem unnatural to anyone.

You showered and messed with your hair for a bit but didn’t bother with makeup since it was after dark. You put on your favorite pair of joggers, a crewneck, and good walking shoes. You certainly hadn’t anticipated taking to the forest with so many walks each day, it wasn’t anything like how you were at home – busy with work and taking care of your life in the city – but it had been so natural to take to the outdoors while you were here. This final walk before your party went home in the morning wasn’t going to be like any of the others. You tried not to feel foolish for indulging in a walk at midnight with the hulking man with the most captivating blue eyes you’d ever seen who could easily take your breath away and whisk you off your feet.

But you had said yes because when else would you ever do something like this?

The answer was never.

And there was no harm in taking a handsome man up on his offer for a midnight stroll in the moonlight.

You put on the watch your grandmother had given you and the simple necklace you typically wore. They weren’t much, and you told yourself you didn’t need to dress up anyway, but they were small touches all the same.

Looking briefly in the mirror, you smoothed your hand down over the front of your shirt and took a deep breath. It’s fine, you thought. He’s seen you plenty before now, and it’s going to be dark, and it’s only a walk anyway. You checked your watch, and it was just a few minutes before eleven-thirty, which is when Nick had said to meet him.

You slipped quietly out of your room, down the stairs, and out the back door. The full moon was bright out here so far away from any city lights, illuminating the familiar path from the cabin that would take you down to the main boardwalk trail.

So many times Nick had simply appeared in the forest, but he was waiting for you right at the end of the path. Your heart raced just a little as his lips turned up in a smile.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“You came.”

He studied your face intently. You were unsure what he was looking for and simply focused on returning your gaze as unassuming as possible, telling your heart to settle and stop beating so fast. Yes, he made you feel things, but one of those things over the past few days had also been a sense of calm and safety in his presence, and you concentrated on that.

After another moment, finally, you responded with a simple, “I said I would.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Then let’s go.”

You fell easily into step with him, the trail so familiar now, though it had been less than a week, and knowing this ramble down to the lake and back, your chest started to feel thick in anticipation of missing it already. As you walked and talked, you thought you were keeping pace with Nick, but maybe you were more tired than you thought because it seemed like you were working to stay in stride with him as you hadn’t had to before. Either that or his legs were longer than before, but that – of course – was an impossible thought.

You shook your head.

Nick paused and turned. “What are you shaking your head at?” he asked. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” His tone was soft and teasing.

“Sorry, I got distracted, and my imagination got a little carried away with impossibilities.”

He cocked his head slightly. “Maybe more is possible in this forest than you might think.” His eyes danced with a hint of mystery.

“Is that so?” You played into his mischief.

He leaned closer. “This is an old forest, and it’s a full moon. Anything could happen on a night like tonight.”

Your body seemed drawn into him, leaning closer as well. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he whispered, and his eyes flicked down to your lips.

The moment hung between you. You tilted your head up, and your eyes fluttered closed. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

And then he tugged on your hand, yanking you out of the moment. “Come on, pretty girl, we’re almost there.”

You sighed, letting out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

But with how tightly his hand held yours as he led you off the boardwalk and into the trees, you didn’t feel too disappointed.

He was quiet now, but he also kept you close as he led you through this part of the forest. The trees were more thickly woven together here, with girthier trunks, and you couldn’t help but feel how they were older the further you wandered in. There was no trace of a path now, but Nick kept a confident pace, clearly knowing each inch of the forest intimately, and his surety allowed you to let yourself be swept away further and further along.

His steps were swift but nearly silent, and you tried to walk as quietly as possible. The sounds of the forest at night were soft but present – soft wind whistling through the trees, the song of nocturnal birds, and the chirping of crickets. The light filtering through the branches was minimal, and it had to be tricking you because you knew he was tall, but it felt like he was somehow taller tonight. It had to be the nature of how you were keeping so close just behind him, focused on the square of his shoulder and the gentle pull of his arm leading you.

He wasn’t taller now than he was earlier today, was he?

“Just up ahead,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at you, one of the easy smiles that made your heart sigh painted on his face.

His pace quickened, and your anticipation built as you hurried to keep up.

Seconds before the tree line broke, you heard the rippling sounds of water before emerging into a glade. Nick stopped a few steps into the clearing, and you came to stand right next to him. The first thing to draw your eye was a stream running into a small pool. The meadow on the side of the stream where you stood sloped gently down to the water, and it was covered in blankets of wood anemone, reaching right down to the bank and springing up and sprawling away again on the other side. The trees surrounding the glade were certainly some of the tallest you’d seen in the forest, and they rose as giant sentinels toward the inky black sky, which was studded with stars around the bright full moon.

As you looked up and around, the coupling of the simplicity and the majesty of it all had you enraptured, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment.

Nick brought your hand up to his face, pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and your heart stuttered in your chest. You turned to look at him. His eyes almost appeared to glow an even brighter blue.

“I said it earlier, but this forest calls to you, doesn’t it?”

Your brows furrowed.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

You did.

He dropped your hand, and you let it fall to your side.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered.

You inhaled slowly, letting the breath fill your belly and lungs, fresh, clean, and calm. You tipped your head back, your face craving the moonlight in that moment.

Although you didn’t hear him move, suddenly you felt the warmth of Nick standing behind you. “Now, listen and feel,” he murmured softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You shivered but remained rooted to the spot. His fingers brushed along the backs of your hands and began to trail slowly up your arms. Your whole body was humming at his touch.

He pressed one soft kiss to your neck, and you sighed and let your neck fall to the side. When his hands landed on your shoulders, he pressed another soft kiss at the bottom of your neck, then turned you to face him.

“You should stay with me.”

Before you could respond, he took your head in both his hands, cradling your jaw. He searched your eyes for any hesitancy, but you knew you couldn’t summon any, nor did you want to. Instead, you pushed up on your toes, seeking his lips, and he met you halfway, claiming your lips with his.

Your hands came up to clutch at his wrists as he held your face, and you leaned in, longing to feel your body close to his. His tongue teased at the seam of your mouth, and you let him in, allowing the kiss to deepen, to sear into your very soul. His left hand moved, quickly coming to press at the small of your back, drawing you flush against him. One of your arms wound around his broad chest, and the other came up to mirror how he was cupping your cheek, feeling the trace of stubble along his jaw with your fingers. You stroked his tongue with yours, moaning into the kiss, and he reciprocated stroke for stroke. You quickly became so consumed by his kiss, feeling lightheaded but not sure if it was him or a lack of air, because you couldn’t tell if you were still breathing. It was a fevered kiss driven by something you’d never felt so strongly before, and you needed more.

Nick sank to his knees, and you went naturally down with him. He sat back on his heels, and you followed, perching in his lap. He held you there, your core over his groin, for a delicious moment, and then suddenly he lifted you up and laid you softly but swiftly onto the soft flowery bed of the meadow, his lips never leaving yours. You gasped and giggled against his mouth.

“What a lovely sound,” he said tenderly. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a satisfied grin on his face.

Whether it was smug or sweet, you weren’t sure, and you felt your cheeks growing warm under his hungry gaze and his soft praise.

“I wonder what other lovely sounds I can draw from you,” he added as both of his hands moved to your hips. He began kissing you again, having only given you a moment of reprieve, then his hands slid slowly up your waist, skimming up over your ribs, pushing up the fabric of your sweatshirt. When his thumbs brushed up against the underswell of your breasts, he pressed back and forth a few times, teasing you, drawing a little whimper, before he let his thumbs run up and over your nipples. They were both peaked, and you shivered in pleasure, the teasing through the fabric of your bra its own unique sensation, but you were eager for more, so you moved your hands to begin quickly unbuttoning his flannel. He took the hint, helping you by shrugging off his jacket, and when he leaned up for a moment to pull off his flannel and remove the t-shirt he had on beneath it, so you shifted beneath him to pull off your sweatshirt and reach for the clasp of your bra, tossing that to the side as well.

You hadn’t hesitated to rid yourself of your clothes, but you were hit with the rush of baring your chest to him now as – with his own clothing discarded – he froze and looked down at you from above. You flushed with heat, but as you moved one hand to tentatively cover yourself, he grabbed it in his, drew it up to his mouth, and kissed your palm.

You were aware of every imperfection as his eyes roved over your body, but when he looked into your eyes and said, “gorgeous,” his face was so serious, so hungry, you didn’t question that he meant it.

He lowered himself back down over you, supporting himself by planting one forearm on the ground next to your side, and this time his lips sought your chest. He kissed down your sternum, then took one breast in his mouth, and palmed the other with his free hand. You moaned as he sucked one nipple and rolled and teased the other with his fingers. You arched beneath him, your body responsive to his diligent ministrations. He switched to the other breast, flicking his tongue over the nipple before lapping and sucking at it. You hadn’t cum before from nipple play alone, but he had you wondering if you might as the pleasure mounted.

You trembled and whimpered beneath him, and as you began to writhe more desperately, he took his mouth off your breast with an audible pop. He moved back up your body, and his hand cupped your face again, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, urging you to open your eyes and look at him.

“Tell me you never thought about it, about staying here with me after I left you earlier today,” he said.

You were already breathless, or else the powerful drive in his deep blue eyes would have stolen your breath once again.

“You must let me have you,” he implored.

You couldn’t answer, but only because you were overcome by the desire in his eyes. For you.

Your name fell from his lips, and his voice was soft, deep, and controlled, but you could still feel the edge of the desperate plea as he uttered your name.

“Yes,” you keened, and you rocked your hips up against his.

“Say the words,” he said. “Say my name and tell me I can have you.”

He slipped his hand down, hooked two fingers into your waistband, and pulled teasingly along the edge from your hip to just below your navel. The torturous movement along your soft skin only drove the hunger that was building for more.

He had to know how he was mounting and playing with the anticipation. But if he needed you to say it, you’d say anything to get what you wanted right now under the light of the full moon from this inimitable figure of a man, nearly unreal in his beauty.

“Nick, you can have me!” You cried.

He wasted no time in pulling your trousers and underwear down in one go. You tried to kick off your shoes, but slightly struggling to do so, his hands helped remove your shoes and socks more deftly, and he was able to more easily toss it all away. And as your legs settled back down on either side of him as he knelt above you, you realized he was suddenly somehow as naked as you – though you didn’t know how he managed that so quickly, so quickly it felt like magic. Everything about tonight felt illusory, and yet it was all tangible and indisputable, and you gave yourself over to it. When else would you ever find yourself in such an enchanted set of circumstances like this ever again?

So what if it felt like a dream?

You took a deep breath and let your fingers tangle in the grass and the stems of the wood anemone. Your eyes traveled up his thighs to a cock so thick and long and hard for you, then up further, over his hips, defined abs, chiseled chest, and broad shoulders, and you whined. Every inch of him ignited heat through your body, and when your eyes met his again, your pulse stuttered.

You could dream like this for one night.

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, Nick settled back on his haunches and pulled your thighs up over his, drawing you up over him, angling your lower half up as an offering, and his piercing cerulean gaze moved to your core, fully on display. His fingers brushed over your lower stomach, the touch so light it tickled, and you jerked, but his other hand held your hip firmly in place. His fingers parted your folds without hesitation, and he licked his lips.

“Such a pretty, wet cunt, my little nymph,” he said, and you felt both shy being so exposed to him, and desperate for him.

“Nymph?” you couldn’t help but question, surprised by the pet name.

“Mhmm,” Nick hummed. He traced your wet folds with one finger, in no rush. “You belong to this forest.” He spread your wetness along those lips with the attention of an artist to his canvas. Then he slipped two fingers inside your cunt.

You gasped, and your eyes fluttered closed.

He pushed them all the way in, then gave a few slow, shallow thrusts in and out.

You never wanted to wake up from this, but you needed more.

“Nick, please!”

He withdrew his fingers and then pressed them to your lips. “Taste your sweet nectar, nymph.”

The digits easily slipped into your mouth, and the urge to suck was a near primal reaction. He applied gentle pressure on your tongue as you sucked, and it only drove the craving in your core further. You were entirely lucid, and yet you felt thoroughly intoxicated by him, by everything around you.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and you did.

You swore he could see into your soul when he looked at you so intensely, but rather than fear, it soothed your nerves. It also more deeply stoked your desire for him, and as much as you wanted to linger in this moment, there was an undeniable pull you couldn’t ignore.

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

He shifted to lean down over you, remaining rooted between your thighs but shifting forward so you were nearly chest to chest. He bore his weight on his forearms, caging you in. As he settled, lips only a breath away from you, you felt the weight of his large, thick cock rest on your stomach. You lifted your head to pull him into the kiss you wanted. You ached for him to fill you up, but you also wanted to give everything just to this kiss for a few beats longer.

It was like he was drinking you in. One of your arms came up around his back, the other brushed up along the side of his arm, seeking and ultimately finding his hand, and your fingers instinctively entwined together.

He moved his other hand down briefly to guide the head of his cock to your weeping hole, and you gave a little moan into his mouth as his head entered you.

As he seated his cock fully inside of you, the tip nudging your cervix, you had to break off your kiss to concentrate on breathing. Nick dropped his forehead to yours, seemingly unable to refuse some form of intimate closeness as he rocked into you again. “You can feel it,” he spoke, the warmth of his breath still close to your mouth.

“Yes,” you panted. Your legs wrapped around his torso. He resumed thrusting, slow, deep thrusts.

“I can feel it, too,” he murmured along your jaw. “You’re answering the call of the forest.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, hardly focused on what he was saying, but the deep warmth of his voice made the words swell through your mind.

He continued his unhurried thrusts, almost methodical in nature, and after a few more minutes, his cock began to swell inside you. And it continued to grow.

You moaned – or groaned – you couldn’t decipher if what you were feeling was real and whether it was painful or pure ecstasy. Your hand clasped his more tightly, and his answering squeeze was accompanied by tendrils of vines sprouting and circling around your hand and down around your wrist.

“What?” Your eyes flew open, and then you gasped. “Nick!”

He was transforming before your eyes. His face remained familiar, but a crown of horns appeared around his head, and emerald moss and glossy leaves intermingled and sprouted throughout his dark hair. Two enormous, magnificent antlers had emerged from his temple and were still slowly growing, just as he was still slowly growing inside you as he continued his steady thrusts. His shoulders broadened, and you knew he was growing in stature.

You trembled beneath him, tears springing to your eyes, in danger of spilling over.

“I told you, my little nymph: I’m the king and guardian of this forest – it speaks to me like it wants to speak to you. You’re answering the call, and I can’t,” he paused to groan, and with a shiver, you felt the ridge of his spine shift from skin to a supple tree bark. “It’s midnight, and with you giving yourself to me and the forest, I can’t hold back my true form.”

He began to thrust more quickly in and out of your cunt, a few of the strokes a little erratic. You whimpered, overwhelmed, and a few tears spilled over your cheeks.

“No, none of that,” he scolded, but kissed away the tears. “You didn’t want to leave, and now you don’t have to, nor can you.”

His free hand moved between you and found your pulsing, puffy clit, applying immediate, furious little circles that refused to let you feel anything but pleasure in response to his ministrations. His lips reclaimed yours once again, and as your body continued to tremble, his thrusts sped up even more, your channel never more full, making the mounting wave of pain and pleasure so exquisite as the waves grew that you let out a sob as your orgasm crashed over you.

Unrelenting, as your cunt contracted around him, Nick more demandingly sought his own release. He moved both hands to grip your ribs below your wrists and railed into you with abandon, punching the air from your lungs over and over, and ultimately pushing you into a rushed second orgasm only seconds before he roared his own ecstasy, his hips stuttering as he spilled deep loads of his seed inside of you, a warmth you could feel permeating you.

And then Nick petted your face, showering kisses softly over your lips, cheeks, and eyelids before ultimately resting his forehead on yours, and gently caressing your neck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you, for this, and now you're mine forever.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you enjoyed this at all, read the other two fics from the Enchanted Birthday Fest! They're both exquisite!

#nick fowler x reader #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 2 months

Text

Sometimes we have to fall and break before we can heal and rise up again. The light between them may have dimmed for a time, but it's shining bright again. Fantastic!

Echo that thunders

Bucky Barnes x female reader

summary: The life you and Bucky built has crumbled. Or so you think. But maybe some ruins can be reconstructed, if true love is given a chance?

warnings: angst; lots of feels; hurt/comfort; divorced couple; mention of past infidelity; marital problems; both Reader and Bucky are self-blaming and self-punishing idiots; and obviously are still deeply in love; they need therapy and I encourage that; reconciling intimacy (yes, I mean sex with feelings and tears); Alpine is almost squeezed to death with love (truly affectionately);

word count: 6k

Author's Note: This is my entry for Eight Types of Love challenge from @the-slumberparty. I took a twist on pragma: exes with feelings.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Every week the hollow in your chest would ache and you’d try to cram it with sweetness of fleeting moments: catching the pure joy and love on your little boy’s face, mulling your sorrow with pastries that you’d eat alone, then quiet your longing with laughter and shouts of your friends.

You made it look like it was easy, like you didn’t die a little every damn Friday when you drove your son to his father’s place.

Maybe you’d feel better if it was the mother missing her baby boy for the weekend, but the wounds opened not for the few days of empty nest, but because seeing Bucky ripped you to pieces.

You wouldn’t avoid it, though. He loved your son so much, was so happy to spend every possible day with him and you would never take that away from either of them.

Even if it hurt.

Truth be told, you wouldn’t let anyone take that away from you, either. Because the pain of seeing Bucky was also sprinkled with that fluttering, bittersweet feeling. Love that you still harbored.

You didn’t think it was possible to ever stop loving Bucky.

As you proved, it was possible to divorce him, but it didn’t sever the hold he had on your heart and soul.

So you welcomed the ache in your chest as an invisible iron fist clenched its cold claws around your heart, when Bucky smiled and waved at you from the sidewalk in front of his building. You knew he waved at your little boy, who was already bouncing in his seat, but you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips in return.

“Hi, rascals!” Bucky greeted you, the same way he’s been greeting the both of you ever since your son was born.

He waited for you to round the car after you parked it, loosely wrapping an arm around your middle and giving you that awkward half-hug.

You assumed it was as awkward for him as it was for you, though for different reasons.

Bucky was simply nice, trying his hardest to maintain a good rapport with you for the sake of your son, while he had to be repulsed by you inwardly. For you, the hug was difficult, because you always craved to bury yourself within his arms and feel that protective, loving hold.

“Hi,” you smiled and ducked under his arm, before he noticed that pathetic longing shining in your eyes.

You went to retrieve a small bag and backpack with Stevie’s clothes and belongings, while Bucky unbuckled your son from the car seat and scooped the boy up in his arms. Joyous squeal “Daddy!” melted you all over again, reminding you how ecstatic the boy was every time Bucky returned home - no matter if he’s been gone a few days on a mission, or just an hour running errands.

When you turned to them, the sight of them grinning at each other froze you on the spot. You were aware that Stevie shared some of Bucky’s mimics, but it was that moment when your boy pressed his cheek to Bucky’s and they both looked your way with lopsided grins that shattered your heart into pieces.

You squashed the flare of sorrow inside, saving it for later when you’re alone with a pint of ice cream.

Bucky had suggested a couple of times that he could come pick Stevie up from your place, but you were too scared of seeing Bucky back in the apartment where you all used to live together. Where the love and happiness were supposed to be forever.

You were scared he’d come inside and see that you still had a few photographs of him on the shelves.

You reasoned that it was for the sake of your son, so that he felt his dad’s presence at all times, but you couldn’t fully let go of Bucky yourself.

“Hey,” Bucky took the bag from your hands, but left you holding Stevie’s backpack. “Can you come upstairs for a second? I wanted to talk something over.”

He always invited you under the pretext of talking over some details regarding Stevie, but ended up dealing with it in two sentences and then coaxing you into a neutral small talk that left you all the more missing him.

Yet you couldn’t force yourself to say no.

“Sure.” You nodded, squeezing the strap of the small, red backpack in your trembling fingers.

Bucky’s apartment, which he got after you filed for divorce, was small, but clean and spacious enough for a four year old and a cat.

Alpine stuck her head from behind a wall when you entered. She made a tiny meowing sound and walked forward, but the second Bucky put your son on his feet the cat bolted away. Stevie of course followed, running after the furball with glee.

“So I know there’s still plenty of time to plan summer vacation-” Bucky started, leading you toward the counter separating the kitchen from the living room- “but Sam invited us to Louisiana, to spend a few weeks at his sister’s place.”

“Oh.” It was instinctive, that very first thought about your baby boy being away for weeks. In a different state, nonetheless.

However, you promised yourself to not be an overprotective, controlling mother. And you trusted Bucky with your son at all times.

“That sounds fun.” You relaxed your shoulders and smiled. “I’m sure Stevie will love it. Especially if you take him on a boat.”

He was in a marine fascination phase. At least once every few weeks you had to go to the aquarium and turn on Discovery channel instead of morning cartoons.

“Maybe I’ll manage to re-do his bedroom, while he’s away with you,” cogs in your brain started turning. “It’d be a fun surprise when he gets back.”

“Won’t you need help with that?” Bucky asked, perking up. “We could do that on the weekend when he’s with your parents? You know I’d be happy to help. We can rope Sam into it, too.”

He sounded so eager. For a fleeting moment you enjoyed the warmth at the thought of the two of you doing something for your son together, but you quickly reminded yourself that Bucky would do absolutely anything for Stevie, including dealing with your presence.

“Umm, sure,” you swallowed nervously, “if you’re not on a mission.”

You regretted saying it, seeing a flash of guilt on Bucky’s face.

It was a sore subject and bringing it up hurt you both.

You always admired Bucky for what he did, how much he risked to save others. It didn’t change the fact, however, that saving the world meant neglecting you at times. He tried his best, you knew he did. Still, it hurt when you spent some nights and celebrations alone.

“We’ve made some changes on the rooster.” Bucky didn’t look at you as he talked, instead focusing on taking out ingredients from the fridge. “It’s doable to book some dates as non-active.”

“That’s good!” You tried to sound genuinely happy for him, while inside you felt a wave of rage that the accommodation wasn’t made when you needed it in the past. “All of you deserve rest and to, you know, live your private lives, too.”

“Yeah.” Bucky’s shoulders drove up in tension even as he nodded.

You stayed quiet for a long moment, the sound of your son’s giggles coming from the bedroom where he chased Alpine filled the space, but didn’t ease the sudden heaviness.

“I better-” you started at the same time that Bucky began:

“Do you want to-”

Both of you paused, but before either motioned at the other to finish, you were interrupted by a pitiful meow and soft paddle of your four year old’s feet.

You both turned and watched your son wobble as he carried Alpine. Though carried was a bit of a stretch to describe two tiny arms tightly wrapped around the upper half of the cat’s body, with its head barely sticking out and two front legs sticking upwards while the rest of the furry body dangled down.

You quickly covered your mouth to stifle the burst of laughter, but Bucky behind you couldn’t help the snort.

“Buddy.” He moved around the counter and crouched in front of Stevie. “Alpine knows you love her lots and want to play with her, but this is a bit uncomfortable for her.”

You thought the cat is an actual saint for not having yet scratched Stevie for all the love she was getting from him.

“Hey!” You chimed in, reaching for the small backpack. “You forgot about the present you have for Alpine.”

“Mousey!” Stevie dropped the cat almost instantly and ran towards you.

“A present, huh?” Bucky placated Alpine, scratching her behind the ear while she rubbed against his leg.

“Made it with mommy!” Your son beamed proudly after you fished out the small toy from his backpack. “For artses-” which was his version of saying art classes. “But mommy said it’s perfect for Apine.”

It was a bright blue, slightly askew, crocheted mouse. With a very, very long tail. You thought it would be perfect for Stevie to hold the end of the tail and slide the mouse across the floor, so Alpine could chase it.

“It really is,” Bucky nodded, noticing that the soft toy had caught Alpine’s attention. “Why don’t you run around with it, play nicely with Alpine, while I make us spaghetti?”

Stevie didn’t have to be told twice. Alpine seemed eager for this kind of play, as well. Chasing a new toy surely was more preferable than being squeezed to death.

Bucky straightened. His tall, broad figure filled your vision. He was much closer now, with no counter separating you. He looked after your son fondly, then his soft gaze switched to you. Not for a second did the affection fade in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Thank you,” he almost whispered, touching your shoulder gently.

You wanted to blurt out that there was nothing to thank for, but you understood what he meant. The same way you were grateful for his concern whenever you had a cold and he took Stevie so you could rest (bringing you some chicken broth on his way), or that he picked you up when your car died. The small gestures each of you displayed, that betrayed care neither of you seemed to be able to lose.

Bucky’s hand slowly slid down your arm and because you were so lost in the blue of his eyes and the tenderness of the moment, you forgot to brace yourself for the small sting that his touch brought when he passed your forearm.

You winced.

Unfortunately, Bucky noticed.

Instantly, he stilled. His hand remained on your forearm, but his touch eased. His gaze flicked from your face to the spot covered by your sleeve and up to your face again.

“What is it?” Worry pinched his features. “Are you injured?”

He moved even closer, angling his head so he could maintain eye contact with you, even though he towered over you. He gently took your wrist into his metal hand and carefully rolled your sleeve up.

“It’s nothing. It’s-”

Words died on your tongue when Bucky’s gaze hardened, a muscle in his jaw twitching, as his gaze landed on the injured spot.

There were no visible bruises. Not to you, anyway. You mostly felt the tenderness of that area than saw any marks. But Bucky’s senses were enhanced and he definitely could see the difference in the smallest changes of your skin, the barest hint of different pigmentation.

And, much to your dismay, you could never lie to him.

“Who did that?” Bucky kept calm, but you sensed the concern bursting into protective rage inside of him.

“Someone, who is no longer in the picture.” You replied, tilting your chin up. “I may have not expected it happening, but once it did, I wouldn’t chance it repeating.”

The whole attempt at dating was so uncomfortable for you, but seeing some pap pictures of Bucky with an unknown female had made you impulsively agree to the fifth invite from a guy from accountants.

It was irrational and irresponsible - as some of your past mistakes. There was nothing that suggested Bucky and that woman were connected in any way beside the work area. They weren’t even alone in that place. It’s just that he had his hand on her back and she was giving him a flirtatious smile.

Well, your jealous brain told you it’s flirtatious. The same brain that forgot to remind you that it was no longer your business if and whom Bucky was dating.

So you went on the stupid date yourself, feeling all kinds of wrong during it. Then got a glimpse of what shit you almost got yourself into, when you wanted to end your date short and the guy called you a tease. His hold on your forearm when you tried to leave was forceful enough to leave a painful reminder.

“I’d still like to know the name.” Bucky’s gaze shone a dark glint; plates in his metal arm moved in a reflection of muscles tensing.

“No need.” Placing your free hand on his chest to soothe him was a habit, you didn’t even realize you were doing it. “I promise you, he won’t ever find himself near Stevie.”

Bucky frowned at that. Suddenly, he was letting go of your arm and cupping the side of your face instead.

“Baby,” it slipped out of his mouth as mindlessly and naturally as you touched him.

“I know you’d never let anyone hurt our son. But no harm should come your way, either. The guy deserves having his fingers dislocated.”

Bucky wasn’t a violent person. His past, which was beyond his control, painted a certain picture that some people still believed in. But you knew how soft-hearted and kind he really was. He used force and combat in missions, but his teammates knew he would be the first one to show mercy and pull back his punches.

However, he was protective. And when he entered that mode, he could be very scary.

Your fingers on his chest clenched slightly, gripping the fabric of his soft, blue henley; as if you were trying to stop him from marching away and finding whoever posed as a threat.

You felt the steady thud of Bucky’s heartbeat beneath your palm, the rhythm of his breath. You sensed the moment his muscles slightly relaxed.

“How about-” hands cupping your face slowly slid down and away, but Bucky didn’t put any distance between you- “you stay for dinner and we’ll talk more about it later?”

There was nothing to talk about, really. Or maybe there was, but it shouldn’t be Bucky giving you the talk. His concern only messed with your head and your heart, leaving you with incomparable longing and aching solitude when you went back home.

You opened your mouth to refuse his proposal, but your son suddenly found himself nearby and torpedoed your resilience.

“You gonna stay mommy?” He looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes.

Bucky and you made sure to be together for important events like Stevie’s birthday, or kindergarten recitals, or even for the 4th of July. But day to day everything happened separately. You didn’t share meals, or walks, or trips the way you used to when you were married.

You were aware of the impact it had on your son, but one can’t be divorced and still spend every day with each other.

However, you couldn’t find the strength at the moment to crush your son’s unexpected spark of joy at the prospect of something so simple like spending the afternoon with both of his parents.

You couldn’t deny your deep, wallowing desire to spend some more time in Bucky’s presence, either. As self-harming as it could be.

“Um-” you swallowed nervously as you looked down at your little boy. “Yeah- yes, I’ll stay. You know I always liked your daddy’s cooking.”

Your heart nearly burst when Stevie launched himself forward, wrapping his small arms around yours and Bucky’s legs. Then he was running away, with even more bounce to his skip than before.

To your relief, Bucky easily switched the topic to casual conversation as you joined him in the kitchen to help prepare dinner. He told you a few latest, funny stories; gushed about a new book series he started reading; asked about your dad’s knee surgery.

Falling into this comfortable pattern of domesticity with him was too easy. Like you haven’t been living separately for the past year, nursing deeply hidden resentment (which you expected from Bucky) and heartbreak. You knew it would hit you harder when you got back home, step into that silent, empty bedroom, which once upon a time was your nest of safety, laughter and love.

All of which you blew up.

You didn’t protest too strongly when Bucky fed your son an extra portion of ice cream after dinner, you were too distracted with your own ache that was spreading its nasty vines over you.

You played with the melting scoops in your own bowl as Bucky picked up a half-asleep Stevie and carried him to the bedroom. Alpine trotter right after them. From the occasional pictures that Bucky sent you when Stevie was staying at his place, you knew that the cat would jump onto the bed next to your boy and fall asleep with him.

When Bucky returned and sat beside you on the couch, his presence almost toppled you into a sobbing fit.

Once upon a time, you’d cuddle on the sofa in your living room and talk for hours, or watch shows, or make out. Even sitting in silence, while Bucky read a book and you browsed social media, was comforting and easy.

There was nothing easy about it now. Because that desperate need to crawl into his arms and have him chase the sorrows away couldn’t be sated.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Bucky’s quiet voice surprised you.

You blinked as you looked at him, slightly confused with what he was talking about.

“I know you’re responsible and very strong. You’re more than capable of looking after yourself and don’t need my meddling in your intimate life.” He said, staring down at some spot and not meeting your eyes.

The words intimate life sounded as if he almost choked on them.

“I know it’s too late to mend what I fucked up.” He sighed, bowing his head even lower.

Your heart ached, seeing him so resigned.

“James Buchanan Barnes, what the hell are you talking about?!” Instinct to rush to his aid kicked you from your stupor.

The anger at yourself heightened as once again you saw first hand how much you hurt him. Bucky wasn’t flawless, but he didn’t deserve what you’ve put him through. To know that your actions added to his tendency to self-blame, only made you hate yourself more.

“It was me who fucked everything up.” You countered, setting the bowl on the coffee table with a loud thud. You shifted on the couch, turning your body so that you could face Bucky directly.

“I broke what we had. I- I broke your heart and you never deserved such awful treatment!”

Neither of you deserved all that pain, but it was on you to take the responsibility for it.

“I’m not gonna lie, the divorce hurt more than falling off that damn train…” Bucky’s voice quivered with emotion; his fingers shook slightly as he wiped his palms on his thighs.

“Divorce?” You paused, slightly stunned. “I mean, I know it was hard. For both of us. But I knew I needed to set you free after what I’ve done.”

It was Bucky’s turn to frown, his muscles pinching in a quizzical look as if he didn't understand what you were aiming at, at all.

“Bucky, I cheated on you!” You hissed loudly, but minding your voice enough to not wake your son.

There it was. The heaviest of truths which triggered the whole domino effect and which both of you avoided naming directly.

But Bucky deserved it - you admitting your faults. There was enough on his shoulders and you couldn’t stand the thought of him taking this burden onto him as well, when it was yours to pay for.

Bucky’s face cleared of confusion, however his frown deepened.

“What I know is that you were hurt, alone and inebriated. A state some douchebag took advantage of.” There was an undertone of anger in his tone, but not directed at you.

You shook your head in exasperation.

Leave it to Bucky Barnes to be an understanding, chivalrous knight. It was a wonderful trait, but shouldn’t apply on all occasions, to all people. It definitely should be directed at you. As much as you’d love to follow that reasoning, you had enough self-awareness and responsibility to not go easy on yourself.

“Being drunk doesn’t excuse what I did.” You stated.

“It wouldn’t, if that was your aim.” Bucky argued. “But tell me, did you go to that bar because you were looking for a hookup? To get back at me?” He rushed with his counter arguments.

When you tried to turn your head slightly to avoid his gaze, he squeezed your chin between his fingers and gently guided you to look back at him.

It was hard. To face him when the memories of that awful evening replayed in your head, bringing back a wave of shame and regret. You vomited three days in a row after that night; and only the first half of the first day was due to the alcohol. All the rest was stress and guilt.

“No, you didn’t.” Bucky continued when you remained silent.

“You went there, because it was our anniversary and I wasn’t home. I was on a mission. Again,” he sighed regretfully, aware of how his absence weighed down on you. “You went to the bar which we often went to on our dates, before we got married. Probably cursing my ass for absence on another important day and drinking the pain away.”

That was true. Your parents took Stevie for the whole weekend, starting Friday. It was supposed to be a carefree, romantic time for you and Bucky. Even if he would need to just be lazy in bed for an entire day, to recharge after a mission, you still would be together.

While Bucky returned from one mission, he jumped onto another one right away. He called you to say that he’d be later than he first anticipated, but in the craze of it forgot what date exactly was it.

You were understanding. Or, well, you tried to be. There was a whole monologue you gave yourself as you paced the floor of your apartment, convincing yourself that your husband was saving someone. So that someone else could return to their family.

But you still felt bitter and angry that your husband didn’t return to you for something that was supposed to be important to the both of you.

When you went out to that bar, which wasn’t that far from your place, your plan was to have a drink or two and wallow in self-pity. Perhaps to be passive-aggressive, take a picture of yourself all dolled up and send it to Bucky with happy anniversary wishes.

That was it.

Then that man joined you. For a conversation, at first. Two drinks turned into four. Then five. To be honest, at some point his face got a little blurry. He had dark hair, like Bucky. Had his arm wrapped around your middle the way Bucky often did.

At some point your drunk brain was certain it was Bucky fucking you, not some stranger you just met at the bar.

“I could’ve chosen to stay at home.” You argued, clenching your fingers into fists so hard that your fingernails needled your skin.

“I could have drunk a bottle or two of wine alone in the safety of our home and sent you angry, slurred messages. Or wait for your return and throw something heavy at your head.” There were so many choices to be made that night.

“Instead, I made a mess of our lives…” the words fell out of your lips in a broken whisper, your eyes filling with tears.

“And I forgave you.” Bucky said softly as he released your chin.

“Hell, I don’t even think I was angry with you.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair in a nervous manner. “Oh, I was pissed and hurt!” He gave you a pointed look when you opened your mouth to protest. “I even tracked that man and… well, let’s not talk about things that thankfully didn’t happen once I saw him.”

“Most of all, I was angry with myself,” Bucky suddenly deflated.

“Why?” You frowned, barely stopping yourself from reaching out to caress his cheek.

“Because I let it happen.” Bucky sighed and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “It was my constant absence that started those clouds over our heads. I was so focused on redeeming myself that I took on more missions than I should.”

A part of you wanted to contradict him, to convince him that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But there was also a part of you that was still resenting him for doing that, for constantly choosing others over you.

“I think I also wanted to feel needed, which is why I joined teams even though they could’ve handled things without my presence.” He shifted again, sitting across the couch with one leg bent, so he could face you fully.

He was more hesitant as he reached out for you again. Though you didn’t flinch away, he still dropped his hand as he revealed his own guilt:

“I forgot that you needed me, too.”

You still did. But you wouldn’t dare to tell him that.

“What you do is important. You save lives.” You said quietly, but there wasn’t as much heat to it as you’d like to present.

“I didn’t save us.” Bucky’s words opened the gate to the feelings you tried to stifle for many months.

You almost lifted your fist to angrily rub away the tears threatening to spill, but Bucky reached for you faster. His warm palms rested on your fists; he squeezed them gently.

“Baby, I remember when you mentioned therapy.” He admitted, wincing at the memory of signals which he ignored. “You tried to say it so casually, I know you were afraid of telling me directly that you needed me to save our marriage. I dismissed it.”

“You hate therapy. I didn’t want to force you into it.” There wouldn’t be any point in attending any sessions, if Bucky would stay guarded.

You understood his hesitance, too. The mandatory therapy he went to a few years back was hard for him, not only because of the topics he had to deal with, but he didn’t feel emotionally safe or comfortable with the appointed professional.

“I disliked my assigned therapist.” Bucky pointed out, with a slight eye roll. “There are hundreds of therapists in this city. I’m sure there’s at least one that I could connect with.” Suddenly, he shook his head. “Or hell with how much I like a therapist, it should be about me connecting with you!”

He let go of your hands and cupped your face instead.

“I wonder-” he leaned forward, closing the distance between you. “I’ve been wondering, if I didn’t fuck up by signing those divorce papers so easily.”

He did it without much questioning. Which only strengthened your notion that he was repulsed by you and couldn’t wait to be as far from you as possible. You didn’t blame him.

“I understood that. After what I’ve done.” You whispered.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, stopping on Bucky’s thumb.

“I couldn’t look you in the eye, because I was so ashamed. I wanted to give you a chance to find someone worthy of you.” More tears flowed.

Bucky tenderly wiped them away.

“I don’t think I’m worth a single hair on your pretty head.” He said, resting his forehead against yours. “I signed those papers, because I thought you were going to find happiness with someone else. That you wanted to build a life with someone else.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You would shake your head, if Bucky wasn’t holding you in place.

If his hold didn’t feel so overwhelmingly wonderful.

“Why not?” Bucky asked, incredulously. “You’re the most amazing, kind, smart, beautiful-”

“Because I’m in love with you.” You blurted out.

Your eyes widened when you realized what you said. Scorching shame mixed with a sudden wave of cold fear as Bucky slowly pulled away and stared at you in shock.

He was still cupping your face, though.

“Say that again, baby?” Bucky’s tone was a whisper, like he was afraid he’d burst some magical bubble if he moved or spoke louder. “Please,” he squeezed your cheeks slightly.

Maybe the best choice would be to take those words back. Or to start listing all the arguments to why it didn’t matter. But you couldn’t lie to Bucky. You never could. Especially not when he was looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes, filled with hope.

“I love you, Bucky,” you confessed. “I never stopped loving you.”

Tears streaming down your face were warm, but they felt much colder when compared to the warmth of Bucky’s lips on yours.

He kissed you with reverence and despair, like the first gulp of breath after drowning in murky waters for much too long. There was nothing but his closeness, beckoning you like a flare in the darkness. You followed the coaxing of his lips, the unspoken vows he sealed with his mouth.

You weren’t even fully aware of your body moving, yielding to Bucky’s smooth maneuvers. Until the full weight of him rested on top of you.

He provided both that shield of safety and heavy temptation that had your legs spreading to accommodate him.

“I never stopped, either.” Bucky croaked out as he broke the kiss; his lips still brushed against yours as he spoke.

“I love you so much. So much, baby.” It crushed your heart to see his own cheeks glistening with tears. “Please, can we try again? Let me mend it. Please.” He begged.

Bucky sounded so helpless and so hopeful at the same time. If your heart was set in cold stone, it would still shatter for him like a fragile glass.

“I should be the one mending it,” you pressed your fingertips to his cheek.

“Us. We’re going to do this together,” he briefly closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.

“Always together,” you agreed and tipped your lips upwards, tempting Bucky into another kiss.

Months of distance surely added fuel to the fire of need, but Bucky’s touch always had the power to ignite your desire. Him being on top of you, the kiss deepening, his hand traveling down your side - your body responded instantly.

You wrapped your arms around him; one hand combing through his hair, the other mapping his broad back. Your legs were already spread to accommodate his hips between yours, but as Bucky continued to kiss and touch you, your knees drew up higher and your hips rolled against him.

Bucky’s responding grinding was most welcome, but he suddenly froze.

“Baby,” he groaned, almost in pain. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but if you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.”

“Need you,” you whined.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and slipped your other hand beneath his blue henley. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him and rocked your hips into his once again.

“Need to feel you!”

For months you were deprived of any intimate touch, somehow not in the mood to even give yourself a release with your pitiful toys. To even think of anyone beside Bucky ever touching you like that made you nauseous. And you missed it so much!

Missed the way Bucky played your body. The way he felt inside of you.

“Bucky, please!” There was urgency in your tone that made Bucky snap to attention.

His gaze held yours for a moment longer, as if assessing that you were as sure as you sounded. A glint brightened his steel blue eyes and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip in the most sensual way. That had your clit pulsing wildly.

“You always beg so prettily,” he murmured against your skin as began chaining kisses along your jawline. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Bucky braced his weight on his metal arm as he used his other hand to pull up the layers of your tulle skirt. You shivered, nipples pebbling, as his touch shifted to the inside of your thigh and wandered upwards.

He pressed the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, finding your panties already damp. It wasn’t a novelty how quickly your body responded to Bucky’s ministrations, but it seemed that longing for him sped up the process.

Bucky swallowed your moan in a messy kiss as he pressed harder on your nub. While you loved the way he sometimes drew this pleasure out, how long he could spend just fingering and licking you, it wasn’t what you needed at the moment.

You dropped both of your hands to his hips then slid them between your bodies to fumble with Bucky’s zipper.

“Fuck!” He cursed, dropping more of his weight onto you when you freed his cock out and wrapped your fingers around him.

“I’m afraid I won’t last long this time,” he groaned, tugging the fabric of your panties aside. “I’ll make it up to you, baby, I promise. But, fuck, it’s been so long since I felt you-”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded fervently, not really listening to him.

All your focus was on that throbbing need that spiked even higher as you guided the tip of Bucky’s cock inside you.

It was everything - the stretch of his girth spearing through your neglected pussy, his scent and warmth, his mouth sucking on your neck, his moan at the feel of your tight walls gripping him - that had your body seizing in the most rushed climax. Already, while he was barely halfway in.

You dug your fingernails into Bucky’s hips as your legs shook; your upper half curling up, face buried in the crook of Bucky’s neck to muffle your cries of pleasure. Your walls clenched so hard it was almost painful, then fluttered in a crescendo of aftershocks.

“Sorry, sorry,” you babbled, falling onto your back and squirming as the orgasm continued to tingle in every part of your body.

“Sorry?” Bucky choked on breath. “My girl cumming for me so fast is an ego boost beyond any other,” he chuckled.

He always had the ability to make you fall apart rather quickly, but that was a new record. Provided by suppressed sexual tension and emotional connection you were deprived of for so long.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Bucky cooed as he continued to slide into your fluttering cunt, “I’ll give you more.”

He shifted his hand, so that his thumb brushed over your swollen clit. He moved with no rush, but each of his thrusts was deep, nearly painfully so. As if Bucky sought more of that connection; needed it as fiercely as you.

As promised, he made you cum again. Then shuddered within your embrace as he followed you over the edge. And though your heart was thundering in your chest from the exertion, it was the first time you felt complete and at peace since a very long time.

You welcomed Bucky’s full weight as you laid spent, your hands drawing soothing patterns on his back. His cock was still nestled inside of you; neither of you wanted to lose that intimate connection too soon. You rested, listening to each other’s breathing and soaking in the comfort of being together.

When Bucky fucked you again a while later, it was more languid and sensual. He made breathless vows of love, curling his metal fingers around your throat and squeezing just enough to spill more of your warm tears. He confessed his need for you in his life as he increased his pace, tilting your ass with his other hand, so he could spill deeper inside of you.

In the morning, as he woke up early with the intention of going to the bakery and getting fresh treats for your family breakfast, there was so much brightness in Bucky’s eyes. So much love and happiness, like on the day your son was born.

As you looked at your own reflection in the mirror in his bathroom, you saw the same spark in your own eyes.

#bucky barnes x reader #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 2 months

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A delicious twist on what happened to Nick. Amazing!

of spies and sunshine | aspen blackwood

lloyd hansen x nick fowler | gray man x 355 fusion au

🆃 | word count: 750 | complete

tags: no major warnings

synopsis: As Nick awaits his fate, a supposed stranger makes their move.

bingo fills + event prompts

@the-slumberparty: eight types of love | pragma: on-and-off again

@anyfandomangstbingo | thrown under the bus

@anyfandomdarkbingo | toxic relationship

@fandombingo: rpf card | free space

@fandom-free-bingo: valentine’s edition | just let me take care of you

@sebastianstanbingo | shared ex

read here | mini playlist

#nick fowler x lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x nick fowler #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 2 months

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Kaye deserves daily worship, dripping in gold or not. Wonderful!

Eros: Golden

Summary: a little lingerie is a golden idea

Pairing: $mokecheddathaassgetta x black!oc (soundcloud rapper!Timothée Chalamet x Kaye$way)

A/n: hurray!! Written for @the-slumberparty’s 8 Types of Love challenge, I picked Lingerie from Eros based in my bday fic au i wrote a few years back. A little body worship, a little crack, a lot of smut lol. Also @siwokann if you remember requesting this prompt three years ago? Well this one’s for you too 😂😂 better late than gathering dust in my docs. Minors, ageless and blank blogs, and serial likers DNI

💘

Smoke knew everyone always made a fuss about red lingerie. The color of power and passion and hunger. Even black got its shine; a color of mystery and intrigue.

But he’s sure they’ve just never seen a sight like this.

His girlfriend stood over him dripping head to toe in gold. The color of opulence, abundance, shining radiant warmth. A thick gold chain encircled her neck, the ‘K’ initial pendant dipping down to her cleavage. The shining jewels of it hard next to the soft silky lace of her bra. It molded over the curves of her chest and her matching panties did the same to her hips. Another glittering gem accented her navel and drew the eye. But he wasn’t done, not until his gaze skated down to the bejeweled stilettos that tied in the whole ensemble.

She stood before him, a queen, a goddess, all warm brown skin and shimmering gold accents.

He was not worthy.

Which was why he was on his knees.

He’d dropped to them before he could fully take in her appearance. It was the optimal position to take all of her in.

“Well?” She prompted with a smug smile.

“Fuck.”

Kaye’s giggle brought a pleased little smile to his own lips. Smoke stood up on his knees, his hands coasting slow up smooth legs glistening with lotion and body shimmer. Her skin was all supple temptation under his touch and he bit his lip.

This position usually afforded him the ability to nuzzle the bling at her bellybutton, but the heels made her just tall enough for him to be face-to-face with the tiny ribbon bow at the center of her panties’ waistband.

Kaye’s fingers tunneled through his dyed-red curls. He closed his eyes at the light scratch of them, peering up again as she gently pulled his hair to tilt his face up towards hers.

“That all you gotta say?”

Smoke smirked as he let his hands travel higher, caressing the curves of her ass. “Oh, bae, I could say a lot. Like, yeah, I could say your body looks made for pretty shit. That this lace doesn’t look half as good as the body under it. But I think you want my mouth busy with something else, instead.”

He hooked his grip to Kaye’s knees, sweeping them from under her as he dumped her back on the bed. A gasp made her chest heave and he groaned past his grin as his eyes zeroed in on the nipples pebbling just out of view. Smoke’s lips descended to the swell of one of Kaye’s breasts, unable to hold himself back longer. Her back arched into his hungry kisses and he snaked one arm in the gap, holding her to him.

“Such pretty titties, bae,” Smoke praised her breathily, his teeth dragging over the plush mound as he hiked her knees up to his hips. “And you got ‘em all wrapped up like a present for me. So fucking sexy. Don’t worry, I can devour this body and keep your cute li’l ‘fit on.”

Proving his own words true, Smoke’s lips latched onto her nipple over the thin lace. Kaye moaned and whimpered, making the noises that made Smoke lose his goddamn mind. And he needed more. Of her taste, of her sounds..

Down, down her body, his kisses indulged in the soft flesh of her torso and tummy, pausing to take the little gold dollar sign charm dangling there between his teeth and gently tug.

“Smoke!”

“Mhmm,” he hummed pleasantly, a smile marring the kisses he stamped over her sensitive pantyline.

“More,” Kaye panted, wiggling impatient under him and gripping the sheets with manicured nails.

“More what? Whatever my KayeBae wants it’s hers. Tell me.” He requested even as his tongue flicked out, licking at her slit through the nearly sheer fabric of her panties. His ministrations more than distracted her and preoccupied her mouth as his own helped her soak the lace over her core.

Kaye scrambled for purchase at his shoulders. “Fuck me,” she cursed and he chuckled, leaving her covered cunt to cheekily kiss down her lifted thigh, his eyes mischievous as his lips grazed her ankle right above her heel’s buckle.

“That a request?”

She frowned brattily. “A demand.”

He laughed again. “Turn over then.”

Smoke watched, transfixed on Kaye’s body until she was on her hands and knees for him. He trailed a finger from her sexy heels, over her calf, and up her thigh, before both of his large hands palmed her ass. The slightly darker shade of gold where she was soaked practically outlined her lips. One of his thumbs caught the slick strip of fabric and pulled it to the side.

A wave of desire crept into his lower belly, making him reiterate his previous exclamation. “Fuck.”

Shoving at his boxers impatiently, Smoke pulled himself out and started stroking his length, groaning at each throb that answered the tugs of his grip. Kaye wiggled her ass enticingly and Smoke couldn’t have resisted such an invitation if he tried.

Just the kiss of his tip to her sticky opening was unfairly divine. But when he started pushing inside? Sinking into that delicious heat that he can never quite get used to? Hearing those keening whines that fall from her lips and form his name? Yeah there was no question that Smoke was lucky to have cuffed her up. So he fucked her like he was thankful.

He was mesmerized with the way her flesh rippled with each bounce of his hips meeting her cheeks, jaw slackened as his own groans and curses tumbled out unchecked. She deserved to hear what she did to him.

Smoke reached forward, loosely grabbing her throat and tipping her chin up to face him. Kaye arched her back more to meet his eyes.

“This dick yours?” A nod. “Lemme see.”

He placed his hands on the headboard above her, stabilizing himself as she threw it back, fucking herself on his dick. “Shit, feel so good, bae.”

His vantage point watching from above as Kaye used him to seek her pleasure knocked the breath from him, he felt like he couldn’t catch it. Felt like he was being blessed and baptized, head underwater and drowning in the feeling. A body like this housed a heart and soul like Kaye’s?

Smoke may have to get a ring— a gold one, blinged out, now that he had seen how much the color and shine suited her.

…Was seven months too soon? Nah, his TikTok FYP basically said girls loved getting proposed to on Valentine’s. He had a few days to plan.

💘

#soundcloud rapper!timothee chalamet x black!oc #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 2 months

Text

The little things make the day shine brighter and Joaquin is perfect for this. Wonderful!

Cozy Valentine

Joaquin Torres x Reader

Plot: Valentine's Day doesn't have to be over the top. Sometimes, all you need is simply good company and great food.

Genre: PG-13, Fluff

A/N: A little slow but Happy Valentine's Day (regardless of relationship status!) because everyone deserves that extra love!❤️ Thanks for always showing my stories love and I apologize that I haven't been that active.

Trope: Deep Friendship. I couldn’t choose one from that section because I think it’ll be great if readers interpret it their own way! Thanks @the-slumberparty for the opportunity again!

❤️💜🩷🩵💛💚

"Thank you!" The last library patron calls out and you wave back gratefully.

You shelve back the remaining books and made a sweep around the premises to make sure that there was nothing left behind before calling it a day.

The lights are switched off and you step out into the open, the statue lighting up the path to the bus stop. The last group of students huddle under the shelter and you can't help but to notice a few couples cozing up with each other as the rain slowed down into a drizzle, giving a cool breeze to the evening.

You can't wait to get back home, get into your jammies and watch Princess and the Frog with Barbecue chips. Someone should have warned you that holding a part-time job and job hunting was much harder than it sounds.

"There you are!"

You see Joaquin inside his jeep that is parked at the bus stop. His greeting has clearly attracted attention as students unbashedly stare at you. Joaquin seems the least bothered as he chuckles watching you make a run for the jeep.

"Drive! You can't stop here or else you'll get honked by the bus!" You scolded playfully as the jeep takes off.

"Hello to you, Miss Bossy," Joaquin laughs. "Hungry?"

Before you can respond, a loud growl emits from your stomach and you go positively tomato. "Don't say a word." You threaten as Joaquin raises a hand in surrender.

"Your choice mi lady."

"Ramen."

Joaquin drives you to a row of shophouses near the university library you work at. The smell of meat and broth wafting through the shop as the staff guides you to your table almost had you drooling for miles. The service was first class as the bowl of noodles came out just minutes later after your orders.

It had been a tough couple of months for you, but being with Joaquin somehow made your stress magically disappear. You didn't have to put a mask, or be mindful of your mannerisms. You could be… you. Suppers with Joaquin became a regular schedule and the situation you had to deal with became less scary.

The laughter went deep into the night and Joaquin drives you back, Ed Sheeran playing gently on the radio. The jeep rolls to a stop as you reach your apartment.

"Wait." He stops you from leaving the jeep and stretches his arm to the back to retrieve a white paper bag. "This is for you. Enjoy your movie."

You look into the paper bag and see a blueberry cake neatly presented in a box along with a rose.

"Thank you," you lean forward to give him a hug. "Thank you." You feel stupid for repeating your thanks but that was exactly how you were feeling. Joaquin made today a little less lonely. He made your fight a little less lonely. You will yourself not to cry and Joaquin smiles at you sadly.

He makes sure you've safely reached your apartment before leaving. Everyone is away on their trips and you have the whole apartment to yourself. Maybe you'll use the big screen TV instead of watching the film from your phone. You wash up and prep the movie. You put the bag of chips that you laid out earlier before leaving for work back into the basket and plate the blueberry cake.

You're all set in your baggy shirt, the movie starts as Tiana works towards her dreams, the cake tastes particularly sweet today and now that you've noticed… the rose seems brighter in the dark.

You don't know why, but it comforts you.

#joaquin torres x reader #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 3 months

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The passion between them is enough to set the bed on fire. The perfect gift for Steve and we know he has the perfect gift for you. Bravo!

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Title: Don’t Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Warnings: Daddy kink, pet name (Sweets), praise kink (slightly), ass worship, butt plug, anal fingering, first time *romantic* anal, creampie

A/N: Based on this poll, Steve Rogers won. Submission for @the-slumberparty’s Eight Types of Love February 2024 Sleepover Challenge (Eros-sexual passion). Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Spotify Playlist

My Masterlist

His fingers glide across the skin of your shoulder blade as sunlight cascades over your beautiful brown skin while you sleep on your stomach. He marvels at how you seem to glow in the rays of the morning sun. Leaning in, he places a chaste kiss on your lips, trying his best to wake you gently.

You grumble, the weight of his kiss just enough to pull you from a deep slumber.

“What was that, Sweets?” Steve’s sultry baritone invades your consciousness and you open your eyes.

“I said, ‘five more minutes’,” you plead, pouting up at Steve and hoping he would give you a break after seeing your tired eyes.

No such luck.

“Nice try, Sweets. You know what today is, right?” he asks, peppering kisses to the top of your bonnet-covered hair.

“It’s...Wednesday?” you guess, trying your best to get back to REM sleep.

“Yes, technically, it is Wednesday. It’s also…” he trails off, waiting for the pieces to click into place in your mind.

You lift your head, locking eyes with Steve. For three whole seconds, you just look at him with a confused expression on your face until it hits you. “It’s Valentine’s Day!” you chuckle, and playfully swat at him.

“Now, she’s cooking with gas. I thought it was gonna take you all day to figure it out,” he jokes, laughing as you roll your eyes at him.

You turn around in bed and swing your legs over the edge. Reaching up to untie your hair, your braids cascade down your back. Peeking over your shoulder, you catch Steve watching you while one of his hands runs through his golden tresses.

“Caught ya looking, Daddy,” you tease before standing and walking around the bed to his side. He reaches out to touch you, but you pull back at the last second. “Unh-uh! Not until tonight. I got something special planned for you.”

“Something special, huh? Well, I can’t wait. But I guess I will have to, won’t I?” he guesses, standing up from the bed to tower over you. He lifts his hands in surrender after you point a manicured finger at him. “Hands to myself, I promise. For now,” he flirts, walking around you to go into the bathroom to shower.

While Steve is in the shower, you mentally run down your checklist of things for tonight. Your new pink glass buttplug, check! New red lace lingerie, check! You had everything planned down to the last detail and you were very excited to see Steve’s reaction. Now, all that was left was to get everything ready while Steve was away for the day.

Steve comes back to your darkened apartment that night, surprised to see a trail of red rose petals and vanilla-scented tea lights leading him to the bedroom. He stoops down to grab the card that was left near the door.

‘Daddy,

Come and unwrap your present.

-Sweets’

Making his way along the petaled path, he reaches your slightly ajar bedroom door. Pushing it open, he is greeted by you kneeling in the center of the bed. A red rose hairclip holds the right side of your braids back, and the red lace bodysuit you wear hugs all of your curves perfectly.

You take in the way Steve looks at you like you hung the moon. His ocean eyes darken as he takes in your scent, your favorite perfume lingering in the air.

“Hi, Daddy. Happy Valentine’s Day,” you hum, making your way to where Steve stands at the foot of the bed. “Why don’t you join me? You can put these big, strong hands to use,” you slide your arms around his neck and instinctually, his hands go to your waist.

Leaning down to claim your lips, he doesn’t hold back teasing his tongue along the seam of your mouth. Once you let him in, he takes control of the kiss. Swallowing down your whimpers and moans, he cups the back of your head and nibbles your bottom lip.

Breaking the kiss, he laughs lowly when you try and follow his lips. “I think I was promised a gift, Sweets. Now, what might that be?” he muses, his fingertips moving along the red lace until he comes upon a pebbled nipple.

You take his hand and guide it to where the gusset of your bodysuit would be, now drenched with your slick. You nod and he explores your soft folds through the crotchless lace. He knows how to play you like a damn fiddle. Gathering your moisture and applying just the right amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves.

Within moments, he has your legs weak while he gives your clit some much-needed attention. His other hand goes to your chin so that you look up at him as he brings you over the edge. You fight to keep your eyes open as the chains of orgasm are broken, your throbbing pussy creaming his hand.

“Such a good girl for me. God, you’re perfect, Sweets,” he praises, still unaware of what you have in store for him as he takes off his tie and goes to unbutton his shirt.

“Daddy, I have a surprise for you. I’ve been working all day long on it,” you chime in, biting your lip as you cup Steve’s erection through his slacks.

“You go ahead and show me that surprise, now,” he encourages, watching intently as you turn around and present yourself to him with your ass in the air. His hand goes to your hip, slowly moving toward your ample backside. Groping your ass, he finds something he had hinted at only weeks ago. “Oh, fuck. Look at this adorable little plug. Have you been wearing this all day, Sweets?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ve been stretched around it all day long. I wanted you to have something no one has had before. It’s all yours,” you say, wiggling your hips to show off your toy.

“You are such a good girl for wearing it all day,” he murmurs, taking the lube that was delicately placed on the bed earlier by you. Dripping the liquid between your cheeks, he spreads it generously around your plump globes. He lays a few slaps to each cheek and moves some of the lube between your cheeks to tease the toy in and out of you slightly.

“Daddy, please,” you beg, growing ever so impatient now that Steve is teasing you.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Sweets. Let’s just get this pretty plug out of here,” he purrs, pulling out the toy and watching as your hole tightens up a bit. He uses one finger to explore you, graduating to two and three fingers when you take him in so well. Soon, the wet squelch of lube as he fingers you is the loudest sound in the room, even over your moans.

With three fingers inside you, Steve uses the other hand to unzip his pants. Pulling out his red, weeping dick, he squeezes the base and coats it in the excess lube that has accumulated. Lining up to your opening, he pushes in slowly until you engulf his tip. The hard part is over as he slides into the hilt.

He waits until you start to wriggle under his hands to begin a languid pace, slow as molasses in January. Your hand snakes down to your forgotten pussy, shiny and slick with a mixture of your arousal and lubricant. Your fingers stimulate your clit as Steve takes you apart from the inside.

You’ve never felt so fully taken before, the stretch of his massive member adding to the sacred friction. As soon as your fingers take you over the edge, you notice how intense this orgasm is. You moan into the bedsheets as your cunt shudders and your asshole clamps down around Steve.

“Fuuuuuck, good girl. That felt so fucking good, Sweets. Don’t think I can last much longer with you coming so hard on my dick like that,” he ponders aloud, quickening his pace to chase his release.

As he pounds into you from behind, he reaches around to finger your pussy while his palm rubs your sweet spot. When he can sense you getting closer and closer to the edge, he pulls his fingers from inside you and plays with your clit.

“Be my good girl and cum with me, Sweets. Fuck, I can feel it right now. You ready for it baby?” he persuades, fucking into you while you moan non-stop.

“Yes, please. I’m ready for your cum, Daddy,” you cry out, your climax pulling you over the edge, tumbling straight into Steve’s release. You can feel every spurt of spunk painting your delicate inner walls while he throbs inside you.

Coming down, he lets his deflating length slip out and directs you to lie down before climbing on the bed next to you. Wrapping you up in his arms, he kisses your forehead and isn’t surprised when he soon hears the soft snores escaping you.

He’s more than content to wait to give you his gift. He smiles, remembering the velvet box in his suit jacket pocket in the other room. He can wait a bit longer to hear you say yes.

A/N: Alright, well, I haven’t written for Steve Rogers in over 12 years. I hope this was good. I would love to hear what y’all think. The title is taken from ‘Rocket’ by Beyoncé.

**Tag List**

@ronearoundblindly

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x reader #eight types of love challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 3 months

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For this challenge, you get to choose a type of love (or many) and put your own spin on a trope. (See below)

Find an accessible PDF list of prompts HERE.

ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤

💕 This challenge is open to all fandoms and characters.

💞Dark creations are accepted but we will not accept underage, incest, or bestiality. Please don’t forget to add warnings to your works appropriately.

💓 For written pieces, there are no word count limits, but we do ask that you add a “read more” beyond 500 words.

💖 We hope that creators can create an inclusive work and encourage writers and creators to use appropriate tagging, ie, f!reader, etc..

💗 For this challenge, we will accept sequels or continuations to previous works. Please be sure to link the original work in your submission.

💘 Creators may submit three pieces of each medium (up to three visual pieces and up to three written pieces)

❤️‍🔥Be kind to yourself and to others. We are here to support and include each other.

💝This is an event for February 2024, with a final due date of March 4, 2024 for late submissions.

!Tag this blog in your submission so we see it.!

#navy and roo's sleepover #writing challenge #creator challenge #monthly challenge #february 2024 #typesoflovesleepover

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the-slumberparty · 4 months

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Hello!

Thank you all for your patience. We apologise for being quiet. I'm sure your end of 2023 was just as busy as ours! And so, we will mark the beginning of 2024 with some refresh and relax. While there will be no monthly challenge, we will take an opportunity to clean up the blog and catch up on the December reblogs and masterlist.

You'll see us in February for a very special Valentine's challenge!

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the-slumberparty · 5 months

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Andy wants that picture perfect romance so badly, even if he has to force his hand. Wonderful!

I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: ~1k

Summary: Andy gives you an early Christmas present. Why aren't you happier about it?

Warnings: Dark elements, threats of punishment, implied punishment, it's dark fic but mostly by implication. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: This is for @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge. The prompts I used, from the Naughty list, were 23. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.” 12. “Smile pretty for me.” and 19. “No one else is gonna take care of you like I do.” Thank you for the fun challenge, Navy and Roo!

This was my first time writing for Andy, aside from his brief appearance in Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire, the winner of this poll. Big thanks to @paperweight91 for helping me figure out my take on him. This is basically just a long drabble, but I hope you all enjoy it!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You sat stiffly on the loveseat as Andy rummaged around under the tree. You pulled at the hem of your black, sparkly cocktail dress. It was much shorter than you were comfortable with, but you were used to that now—your comfort not mattering.

He made a noise of triumph and stood up tall, coming back to sit next to you on the couch. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package. “I know it’s a bit early, but I wanted you to open this one before we go to the party. Merry Christmas!”

You’d been dreading his office’s holiday party all week. All those people judging you, all those opportunities to mess up. You took the package and quietly said, “Thank you.”

He chuckled, lightly. “You haven’t even opened it yet. Go on.”

As you carefully unwrapped the gift, your fingers trembled, uncovering a medium-sized square jewelry box. You took a deep breath, girding yourself before you opened it. Inside was a delicate silver chain with a pendant that spelled AB in elegant script. It took a moment for your brain to catch up, looking up at him as your confusion gave way to dawning horror.

“I want everyone to know who you belong to,” he said, so softly, so sweetly. It was almost like he hadn’t just given you his brand. “Now is when you say thank you, sweetheart.” His tone was still gentle, but his eyes had started to take on that hard glint you were so terrified of.

“Thank you, Andy,” you whispered.

He smiled, his eyes softening again. “You’re so welcome, honey. Now, turn around so I can put it on you,” he said as he took the box from you. You did as you were told and turned to face the other way. He draped the necklace across your chest and fastened it behind you. His hands ghosted over the back of your neck and you suppressed a shiver. “There. Turn back around now.” You did and he gave you an appraising look. “Smile pretty for me, baby.”

You gave what you were sure was a strained, brittle smile, but he still hummed in satisfaction.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” His hand moved up to brush your cheek and you couldn’t help but flinch away from him. You regretted it immediately, but no matter what you told yourself, how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop your body from being afraid of his touch.

He sighed, exasperated, and turned away from you. “I don’t understand why you insist on treating me like the bad guy,” he said, dejected.

Because you are the bad guy, you thought to yourself, but you were smart enough this time to not say it. You’d finally learned that lesson. “I’m sorry,” you said, reaching for his hand, but he pulled away.

“If you were sorry, you’d stop being so ungrateful! No one else is gonna take care of you like I do.”

You nodded quickly. You needed to placate him and do it now. “I know! You take such good care of me. I know that.”

He stood up and turned on you with his hands on his hips. “Do you know that? Because you don’t show it. It’s not how you act. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

The way he loomed over you made you want to cower, but you did your best to control your body. That would only make things worse. You had no idea how to respond. Another apology would only make him more angry.

He looked at you expectantly, but at your silence, he just sighed again, running a hand over his beard. “Maybe we need to continue this conversation downstairs.”

You sprang up at that and threw yourself at his feet. Not that. Anything but that. “Please, no, I’m sorry, I’ll be better. Please, no. We don’t need to go downstairs.”

He bent over to grab your arms and lift you off your knees. “That’s good,” he said softly, back to being gentle with you. “I don’t want to go down there, either. You know I don’t. I just want you to be good for me. Don’t you want this Christmas to be better than Thanksgiving?” It took everything in you not to grimace. You still felt the marks from what he’d done to you after Thanksgiving dinner. At the memory, you couldn’t help but go weak in his arms, letting him hold you, taking any comfort you could get. “I just want to have a perfect Christmas with you, sweetheart, show you how much I love you. I need you to stop resisting it.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words falling out of you, too scared to think of anything else. You blinked back your tears, not wanting to ruin your mascara or get his dress shirt wet. He wouldn’t take kindly to being late to the party after all this.

He rubbed a gentle hand down your back. “Shhh,” he cooed. “You’re ok, you’re fine.” After another moment, he pulled away from you, looking you up and down. “Now,” he said, “take a deep breath and get yourself together. We’re going to go to the party and have a nice time, aren’t we?” You nodded, hurriedly. “Then when we get home, you can show me exactly how sorry you are, how grateful you are. Good?”

“Yes, Andy,” you said, quietly. You couldn’t make your voice get any louder.

He stepped back into your space and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. He kissed you slowly, languidly. You let him. You had to. You matched his movements with your lips as much as you could, but he never cared too much how passionate the kiss was on your end as long as you didn’t resist him. As long as he was in control. He pulled back and stroked his thumb down your cheek. This time you didn’t flinch away. “That’s right. There’s my good girl. Come on, go touch up your lipstick. We don’t want to be late.”

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling

#andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber x reader #naughty or nice challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 5 months

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Rick tried to protect his heart at the expense of the reader, but thankfully things worked out in the end. Great job!

Different

Rick Flag x Reader

Plot: You were always at odds with a certain Colonel. Will Christmas change things?

Genre: PG-13, Colleagues/Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers (wow so many tropes in one haha) Christmas theme (again)

A/N: Big thanks to @the-slumberparty for letting me not forget my writing roots in times of writer’s slump/block! 2nd piece for sleepover event to hopefully end the year right. Enjoy and please reblog/comment!❤️

Prompt: “I never hated you. I just didn’t want you to know how much I liked you.”

***

“Motherfu-”

You yell in pain as the infirmary doctor at Belle Reve patches up your injuries. “Sorry, I wasn’t-”

The doctor waves away your apology nonchalantly. He brushes a strand of grey hair off his face before applying more iodine to the angry looking flesh on your knee. Hats off to him, he does quick and efficient work. The doctor sends you on your way with a month’s worth of painkillers and advice to rest.

“Thanks doc, but I don’t think that’s in Waller’s dictionary. At least not for us.”

He doesn’t refute your statement and simply prepares to see his next patient. Bag of medicine in hand, you limp to the office as quickly as you can. You want to get out of the penitentiary and lay in the comfort of your own bed.

You acknowledge Emilia and John who congratulate you on another successful mission. Even Amanda Waller, who you had to submit your report to despite being on the brink of death gives a subtle nod to the quick thinking that you displayed on the field. But knowing her, she probably was just happy that she could continue using her soldiers.

Including the ridiculously handsome Colonel who had marched into the shared office space, not sparing you a glance. He shoves his belongings into his bag and he is gone as quickly as he came.

You frown. You have no idea what’s his problem. Ever since your first day, it felt as if like he’s had it out for you. And the best part? For no good reason. He was civil with everyone. Everyone but you. He was downright rude and a jerk.

Emilia gives you an empathetic smile. The two of you leaned on each other, being one of the few females in an environment that wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. She comforted you after Rick blew your head off for almost ruining the mission when all you did was to rescue two innocent children in the crossfire.

“Cheer up! At least it’ll be Christmas soon. Things will be different.” She says. “Any plans?”

You shake your head. “Not that I can think of. I’m just lucky that I survived this mission.” You sling your bag over your shoulder and bid them goodbye. Emilia was right, at least it was that time of the year. Maybe things will be different.

***

It looks like the doctor had clearly outdone himself. Your injuries were healing nicely and you could even step outside your house for a jog. Dressed in your running gear, you leave your apartment and step into the pleasantly cold weather.

Making your way round the block, you arrive back at your apartment. You think about what you wanted to do next with the treasured free time that you have. Perhaps you’ll order in from that Korean restaurant, pull out a Disney movie and be a couch potato for the rest of the day.

Yeah, that sounded excellent.

Deep in thought about what you should pick from the menu, you don’t notice that one of the stitches from your more severe wounds snap, causing a patch of red to blossom at the side of your stomach. The lift dings, signaling that this is your floor. Thank god no one saw you. They knew who you were but most of your neighbors were under the impression that you were an outdoor educator.

Clutching the side of your stomach, you willed yourself to take the steps forward needed to get to your door. Easy does it, you think. Unfortunately, your vision starts to spot and the floor starts to shake. This unnerves your usually calm demeanor as your breathing quickens. As if it was an eternity, you reach the door. All you needed to do was to get the keys, unlock the door and-

And…

***

You blink, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. To be exact, your sofa.

How did you get inside? You can’t remember anything after the jog.

“You’re awake.” A familiar voice can be heard and a flop of messy blonde hair comes into vision. You don’t know how Rick Flag got into your house, let alone knew that you lived here.

“Rick?”

“Yeah, it’s me darlin.”

The name somehow wakes you up and you attempt to sit upright only for Rick to gently push you back down. “I just did your stitches for you. You don’t want to burst them again.” He tells you and your cheeks heat up. Rick did your stitches, which means he saw you- Stop it!

“How did you know where I lived? How did you even know I was coming back home?” You focus your attention on the important moments. “Are you stalking me? I could sue you for workplace harassment.”

Rick lets out a deep chuckle that has butterflies bursting in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, you do that. Though I don’t think there’s any issue with me coming to this building seeing as it’s my home too.”

You let yourself process this. “Wait… you’re the neighbor from five-oh-two?” You wanted to mentally slap yourself in the face. No wonder Mrs Jenkins told you that neighbor five-oh-two was supposedly a private contractor. That he had weird, odd hours. That apparently you should have met him since you and him leave around the same time in the morning for work.

Rick smiles. “That’s me.”

You almost let your defenses down until you realized that it’s been eight months since you moved in here and you’ve met everyone on your level except one. Until now.

This reaffirms the fact that Rick Flag hates you for no good reason and has wants nothing to do with you outside work. Even if he is your neighbor. Fine. Two people can play that game.

“Thanks for fixing me up. I’m not sure why the stitch burst open but I’ll let Doctor Shaw know when I get back to work.”

Rick catches on to your sudden frostiness. His expression softens for a moment before it is replaced by the brooding look that you have grown so accustomed to. “Sure. Uh… have a good Christmas.”

That was oddly civil.

You nod stiffly, closing the door as he steps out your house.

You really need a glass of water.

***

Christmas. The time of jolly good cheer.

You walk down the shops that are adorned with bright lights and Christmas decorations, mood improving significantly.

Okay, the steak that you had for dinner also played a part in the great day that you had. You also decided to treat yourself, purchasing a lovely sweater. Bag in hand, you continue down the pavement. If only every day could be like this. Not throwing yourself into life or death situations, not having criminals as your field members, not having to deal with a tyrannical boss at work and most importantly…

Not having to see Rick Flag twenty-four seven.

Even if he may be disarmingly handsome and everything that you wanted.

A loud honk and bright flights come flashing at you and instead of ducking for cover, you stand there like a deer in headlights, as if waiting for the truck to hit you.

A hand reaches out and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back to safety where pedestrians continue on their way. You find yourself staring into the sea foam eyes of the Colonel who does not look pleased one bit. In fact, he looks positively seething with rage. Rage that was about to be directed at you.

“What were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He grips you by the shoulder tightly and you would have swatted his hands away if you weren’t still recovering from the shock of it all. “Are you injured anywhere? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

You shake your head slowly and Rick sighs with relief. Apparently, he only just realizes what he is doing and removes his hands as if like he had touched something that he shouldn’t have. This annoys you and is also enough to tip you over the edge.

“What’s your problem?”

Rick’s brows furrow in confusion before his face twists in disgust. “Is this how you thank someone for saving you from almost being hit by a one ton truck?”

“No, this is me asking if you have a problem with me.” You refuse to back down. “Because it’s either you pretend to be worried or save me from a ‘rookie’ mistake I made on the field and proceed to humiliate me publicly!” You raised your voice. “If you hate me, make it clear. I can’t do anything about work but I can make myself disappear when we’re outside.”

You proceed to turn around to be on your way when Rick holds you by the wrist. He hangs his head, surprisingly defeated by your words. You want to twist yourself out of his grasp, but his sad golden retriever appearance is making it very hard for you to be the villain here.

“Please,” Rick pleads. “Stay.”

An internal you battle, you relent and let him take you to a nearby cafe. He insists on getting you something, so you order a simple hot chocolate to calm your nerves. You remain silent, waiting for what the Colonel has to say.

“I’m sorry.”

You cock your head to the side, unsure if you were hearing things after that truck almost ran you over.

“I didn’t mean to do all of that.” Rick starts. “It was unprofessional and very unlike me. It was just that-” He inhales deeply.

“When I see you throwing yourself in danger or being in danger… my mind stops working. I’m so scared that one day, things will go wrong and I’m left alone again.” He grips the handle of his mug tightly.

“Remember when you saved those two children?”

“How could I forget?”

“You were amazing for that. You were fearless and brave. That’s what I wanted to tell you. But my fear became the better of me and I hurt you instead.” Rick recounts bitterly.

“I never hated you. I just didn’t want you to know how much I liked you.”

Rick can’t bring himself to look at your reaction. Perhaps a peek and he sees that your mouth is hanging open slightly. Oh, he’s done it. He’s really blown this to bits. Perhaps he can file in a transfer when he gets to work - yeah, as if Waller would allow that. Perhaps death would be the best option.

“Then say it.”

Rick stares at you, dumbfounded. A small smile is etched on your lips. “Say it you big dummy.” You laugh this time and his heart skips a beat.

“Okay, maybe I’ll say it first. Get the ball rolling hm?” You add playfully, enjoying the look on his face. “I lo- oof!”

Rick knocks his chair over from standing up to fast as he makes his way to you, engulfing you in a big and warm embrace. You freeze but only momentarily before melting into his hug that smelled like cinnamon.

“I love you Y/N Y/S/N.” He says breathlessly before giving you what was possibly the most mind shattering kisses that you ever had.

The Christmas lights start to dance around each other and the music in the cafe plays a slow jazz song. People trickle in and out for a nice warm drink and you are content with how Christmas has played out today.

Christmas could be different after all.

#colonel rick flag x reader #rick flag fanfiction #naughty or nice challenge #thank you for participating

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the-slumberparty · 5 months

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The gift that keeps on giving and we all know Lloyd is the type to snap when being told a toy is bigger than he is. Incredible!

getting filled for christmas

pairing: lloyd hansen x female reader

summary: lloyd decides to give you one of your christmas gifts a few days early, and you both enjoy using it for the first time.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, bdsm elements, sex toys (dildo), pain play, rough oral sex (m receiving), gagging, choking, spit kink, face slapping, rough nipple play, rough sex, piv sex, creampie, anal fingering (f receiving), makeshift dildo gag, spitroasting, double penetration, finger sucking, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, festive pet names, aftercare, established relationship, possessive lloyd

word count: 4.7k

a/n: i saw a post about a possessive dom getting their sub a replica dildo of their cock and my first thought was that lloyd would absolutely do that. so i had to write that fic!! and now here we are!! i also used one of the Naughty prompts from @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice Challenge as inspiration, so that's bolded within the fic. this is pretty much just some smut with a little bit of feels/fluff thrown in (because it's me), hope y'all enjoy the first of a few festive fics!!

“Merry Christmas, snickerdoodle!” Lloyd Hansen emerged from the walk-in closet into the master bedroom of the home you shared together carrying a long, thin box wrapped in black paper with a black bow. He had an extra bit of swagger in his strut, and you smiled bemusedly as he walked up and handed you the present, brushing a kiss to your cheek, his mustache tickling your skin.

Giving him a look of confusion, you said, “But it’s not Christmas for another few days.” You looked up into Lloyd’s sparkling blue eyes, watching as his expression softened with a look of affection.

“You’ll get the rest of your gifts on Christmas morning, sugar plum,” he promised, brushing his fingers along your jaw and tipping your face up so he could drop a kiss to your lips. “But I thought this one we could use tonight,” he murmured, his lips grazing teasingly against yours and making your breath catch in your throat. “Since we started celebrating early.”

You smiled against Lloyd’s mouth, thinking of the elegant dinner he’d taken you to that night. The restaurant had been beautiful, decorated luxuriously for Christmas with evergreen trees, red velvet bows and warm, glowing candles. Lloyd had held your hand while he made you laugh with stories from his work, then he’d ordered the most delicious wine and fed you from his plate. It had been so wonderful, it had almost distracted you from the reality that he’d be leaving in the morning for a business trip and would be gone until Christmas morning.

Lloyd must’ve sensed your dampening spirits, because he kissed you again. His mouth was softer, repentant, stealing the breath from your lungs. When he pulled away, he murmured, “Open your gift.”

Huffing a little sigh, you pulled away and refocused on the present in your hands. It was long and thin, but larger then a box that would hold a necklace, so you weren’t sure what could be inside. Distractedly, you turned your back to Lloyd and asked him to help you with the zipper on your dress. Carefully, you untied the bow and tore through the wrapping paper while Lloyd undressed you, leaving you in only your heels and the black lace matching set you’d worn for him. By the time your dress pooled on the floor, you were only just lifting the lid on the box and you turned to Lloyd so he could see your reaction.

When you got a look at what was inside the box, you tossed your head back and let out a loud, cackling laugh. “You got me a dildo!?” you asked, half exasperated, half amused, shaking your head at your man. In the box, nestled in a pillow of soft satin, sat a long, thick dildo, with just a hint of a curve to it. Something about the toy struck you as familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger on it, so you just looked at Lloyd, your eyes shining with tears of mirth.

Lloyd, however, was pouting and you sobered quickly. “C’mon, angel, it’s not just a dildo,” he said, lifting the toy out of the box. His mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk as he held the dildo in front of his pants. When he caught your eye, his blue gaze was sparkling with amusement. “You don’t see the resemblance?”

Suddenly, you understood why the toy had looked familiar—it was because it was an exact replica of Lloyd’s cock, right down to the curve. You had to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling and, instead, used every ounce of your self-control to arrange your face in a contemplative look. Tilting your head to the side, you made a show of thinking, drawing in your brows and tapping your finger against your mouth.

Just when Lloyd started to huff with affronted impatience, you looked up into his eyes, feigning an innocent look. “I don’t know, daddy,” you said in your sweetest, most angelic voice. “I think it looks bigger than you.” It was a struggle to tamp down on the wicked smile that wanted to spread across your face, but you managed. Mostly. The corners of your mouth flickered and your body tensed, preparing to run.

Lloyd’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing and his mouth twisting in a displeased scowl. You tried to dart away, but you didn’t get far in your heels. Lloyd’s hand wrapped around your upper arm and he used your momentum to toss you down onto the bed, rolling you over onto your back. Lloyd’s hands were everywhere, groping your tits harshly through your black lace bra, kneading your hips savagely, snapping the elastic of your panties ruthlessly.

Using his unrelenting grip on your body, Lloyd maneuvered you to the end of the bed until your head hung off the edge, giving you an up-close view of the bulge in the front of his slacks. You were trying to lift your head to lick at Lloyd’s cock through his pants when he spread your legs wide, using his wide palm to spank your pussy through your panties. You gasped and moaned, the slight sting of pain turning to pleasure almost immediately, your body going loose and pliant for Lloyd.

That seemed to be exactly what he’d wanted because in the next moment, his hands were gone from your body and you opened your eyes to find Lloyd’s fingers were working open his belt and then his fly. He shoved his pants and briefs down to his knees, his cock bouncing free and landing heavily on your face. You tilted your head even further back, licking at Lloyd’s hardness, inhaling his musky scent and moaning happily.

“We’ll see which cock is bigger,” Lloyd grumbled, fisting the base of his dick in his hand and slapping it against your tongue and lips. “Open up, naughty vixen, daddy’s gonna measure his cock against your new toy by seeing which makes your throat bulge more.” When you parted your lips for him, Lloyd drove his cock deep in your mouth, pushing into your throat while he groaned loudly.

You gagged a little, your throat squeezing Lloyd’s cock and making him grunt in pleasure, but you calmed yourself and relaxed your body. Already, you could feel drool starting to leak from the corners of your mouth, dripping down your cheeks. Despite your best efforts, tears were welling in your eyes and you knew your makeup was moments from being ruined. But the soft way Lloyd cooed at you while he stroked your cheeks made it all worth it.

“That’s it, sugar cookie, choke on daddy’s cock,” he crooned, wrapping one hand around the front of your neck and pressing hard enough that you could feel him in your throat more acutely. “Feel how big I am in your little throat—so big, aren’t I?” His tone was mercilessly condescending, but it only turned you on more.

Helplessly, you tried to nod and say yes, but with Lloyd’s cock stuffed in your mouth, your words only came out as garbled sounds. Your spit trickled out of your mouth as tears dripped down your temples. You tried to breathe through your nose, but it was difficult with your head hanging off the bed and you began to grow lightheaded.

After a moment, Lloyd pulled free from your mouth and you gasped for breath. He only gave you a moment to recover before he was grabbing the dildo and working it into your mouth. He pressed it deeper while he loomed over you, his eyes sparkling as he watched you take it. “Good girl, good girl, take daddy’s toy cock,” he cooed, pushing past the resistence at the back of your throat until you felt the silicone bulge in the front of your neck. “Good fucking girl, choke on it, sugar plum.”

It was harder to relax yourself with the dildo in your throat, the unrelenting hardness feeling unnatural to your body, but you did your best. However, it wasn’t long before you were choking and gagging on the silicone, your body twitching as your fingers ached to pat his thigh and use one of your safe signals when he was getting too rough. Thankfully, Lloyd knew you well enough to see the signs of when something was verging on too much and he pulled the dildo free from your mouth.

“Now snickerdoodle, do you still think your new toy is bigger than daddy’s cock?” Lloyd asked in a mockingly sweet tone. His fingers brushed over your cheeks, like he was trying to clean up the drool and spit that had leaked from your mouth. Instead, he was just rubbing it around your face, making you even messier, just how he liked you.

You knew he was giving you a reprieve, and an opportunity to escape his more brutal side. But heat was pounding through your body and when you squeezed your thighs together, you could feel the way you’d soaked through your panties. You liked Lloyd’s brutal side, and you grinned wickedly, catching his glimmering blue gaze as you answered.

“I don’t know, daddy,” you said in the sweetest voice you could muster. You could already hear a husky edge to your tone from the way you’d choked on Lloyd’s cock and the dildo. “I can’t tell yet, I think you might need to fuck my mouth.”

Lloyd sucked in a sharp breath, his hand stilling on your face while he took in your expression. A wolfish grin spread across his face and he patted your cheek gently. “If you think that’s necessary,” he said, his voice trailing off in a leading way. He was giving you one more chance to reverse course and take a different turn for the night, but you only wanted to barrel ahead.

“Oh, I do, daddy,” you said eagerly, nodding. You opened your mouth wide, watching him from upside down to see what he’d do. It was a clear invitation for Lloyd, but he didn’t take it right away.

“Naughty vixen,” he muttered, leaning down. In the next moment, he spit in your mouth, his warm saliva landing on the back of your tongue. Before you could close your mouth to swallow Lloyd’s spit, he slapped you across the face, the sting morphing into pleasure and making your cunt throb between your legs. You smiled dazedly, writhing on the bed with your thighs squeezing together against the ache in your core. Lloyd praised you, “Look so fucking pretty covered in drool, angel.”

“Thank you, daddy,” you whispered with a shameless smile. Then, Lloyd held your head still, slapping the other cheek, the sting making you moan. “Thank you, daddy, thank you, daddy,” you babbled, your fingers clutching helplessly in the blankets as you held yourself back from touching your throbbing pussy.

Chuckling as he stood up, Lloyd grabbed his cock and smacked it on your face, making soft thwacking sounds since his length was still slick with your spit. “Open wide, sugar cookie, let daddy fuck that pretty mouth of yours,” he crooned. You did as he ordered and Lloyd slid home, groaning as he felt your throat squeeze his cock while you gagged.

Instead of holding himself deep in your throat, Lloyd started fucking you, setting a viciously hard pace. He took turns between shoving himself, then the dildo, into your mouth, alternating between his hard, throbbing length and the unrelenting stiffness of the toy cock. All the while, Lloyd cooed praises at you in his ruthlessly patronizing tone, calling you his good girl and telling you how well you were taking both of his cocks.

When you were thoroughly ruined, your face a mess of makeup, drool and Lloyd’s precum, he finally relented, pulling free of your mouth and letting you gasp for air while he patted your cheek in a way that was so condescending, it made your pussy clench pathetically around nothing. Mewling softly, your legs squirming on the bed, Lloyd took pity on you and lifted your head up, turning you to face him on the edge of the bed.

Grabbing you by the back of the neck, Lloyd dragged you in for a sloppy, messy kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and taking possession while you moaned into him. He drank down your sounds greedily, fucking your mouth with his tongue. You pressed your mostly naked body against his hard chest, his warm black sweater feeling soft and too warm on your skin.

“Had enough, snickerdoodle?” Lloyd asked in a deep, gravelly tone once he’d pulled away from your lips, leaving you gasping again.

You were lightheaded from choking on his cock for so long, but your body was buzzing and you knew you were so far away from being done. You wouldn’t be done until he’d ruined you thoroughly, entirely. “Not even close,” you rasped, your throat raw from the pounding it had taken. A smirk pulled at your mouth, and you licked at Lloyd’s lips, eagerly drinking down the groan he let loose.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, kissing you fiercely as his fingers made quick work of your bra’s clasp. He pulled it free from your body, groping your tits and pinching and pulling at your nipples until you were gasping into his kiss.

Then he was grabbing you and spinning you around, manhandling you down onto all fours, your ass up in the air and your face pressed into the soft blankets of the bed. He pulled your panties down your thighs, letting them trap your legs together, before Lloyd curled around you, his cock slipping between your slick thighs, the tip bumping against your clit.

Lloyd groaned in your ear. “Fuck, I can feel your cunt leaking all over my cock, sugar plum,” he rumbled in your ear. “Are you that eager for daddy’s cock, angel?” He pulled his hips back, then pushed forward again, fucking your thighs, the wetness from your pussy and the spit covering his cock making the slide easy.

“Yes, daddy,” you whined, arching your back, your hips swaying as you tried to angle your hole so the tip of Lloyd’s cock would press against it. But Lloyd only chuckled, his length sliding through your drenched folds as he teased you with his thick length.

“D’you want daddy’s cock or your new toy in your cunt?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling. You could hear his own arousal in his tone and it made you all the more eager for him to be inside you already.

“Your cock, daddy,” you said on a gasp. Then you whined, pushing your ass back against Lloyd impatiently. “Want your real cock, please, daddy.”

Lloyd chuckled against your shoulder, nipping at sensitive skin of your neck. “Ya gonna admit I’m bigger then?” he asked. “‘Cause ‘m gonna leave your needy little cunt empty until you do, sugar cookie.” You could hear the grin in his tone, but you knew Lloyd’s threat was real.

“You’re bigger,” you said quickly, feeling yourself leak even more wetness as Lloyd kept lazily fucking your thighs. “Sooo much bigger, daddy,” you gushed, your words tripping over themselves to get past your lips. “You feel so much better than the toy—please, I need your cock, daddy,” you begged desperately.

“Good girl,” Lloyd murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. Then, in one swift stroke, he buried his cock inside you, ramming home and stretching your tight cunt out on his thick cock. You let out a piercing scream at the brutal feeling of Lloyd’s cock splitting you open, and before you could adjust, he wrapped his hand around the front of your throat. Lloyd’s mouth was next to your ear when he growled, “Open that pretty mouth, sweet vixen, let daddy feed you his toy cock.”

You opened your lips obediently and Lloyd shoved the dildo he’d gifted you deep in your throat. In seconds, you were impaled on Lloyd’s real cock and his toy cock at both ends, your pussy clenching down on his fat dick while your throat spasmed and you gagged around the dildo. As if that wasn’t torture enough, Lloyd made you hold his replica cock in your mouth while he tied his belt around your head, holding the silicone toy deep in your throat. There was only enough slack in the belt so that you didn’t choke too badly.

Tears poured down your cheeks at the deliciously sinful sensation of being filled with Lloyd’s cock in both your mouth and pussy. You moaned shamelessly around the dildo in your throat while Lloyd let your head fall to the bed. He grabbed your body with one hand on your hip, the other bracing your shoulder and began fucking into you with such fury, you knew you’d be feeling him for days. You relished the pain and pleasure, knowing Lloyd was doing it on purpose so you’d feel him while he was away on his business trip.

Muffled sounds of ecstasy fell from your lips mindlessly as you took everything Lloyd gave you, savoring the devastation he wreaked on your body and mind. He fucked you so hard, it stung a little every time his cock battered against your cervix, his thickness stretching you wide open around his girth. Yet, you couldn’t help but love the pleasure and pain he gave you—just as much as you loved the man himself. You were so filled by him, so overwhelmed by him, that your mind melted and you were reduced to nothing but a set of holes for Lloyd’s pleasure.

“You deserve this.” Lloyd’s voice was little more than a low growl in your ear, the strain in his tone speaking to the barely leashed sadistic hunger in his soul. “You deserve to be used like a pathetic, whimpering little toy,” he bit out, fucking you harder, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours, the sound of skin on skin nearly drowned out by your muted cries. “You deserve my cock in your throat and your cunt, filling you up like the perfect little cocksleeve you are.”

All you could do was moan for him, mewling and whimpering just as pathetically as he accused you of being while he pounded into you from behind. Lloyd’s hand wrapped around the front of your throat, squeezing you lightly so that you chocked on the toy cock in your mouth. He swiped his thumb through the drool coating your chin before moving his hand to your ass, pressing the tip of his soaking finger to your little rosebud. You squealed around the cock in your throat, your eyes widening and your whole body going taut beneath Lloyd’s bigger form.

“Shhh, sugar plum,” Lloyd cooed in your ear, bouncing back and forth between viciously ruthless and sweetly patronizing so fast it made your head spin in the best way. “Daddy just wants to fill all your pretty holes,” he murmured against your shoulder, brushing ticklish kisses to your skin. “Relax for me—let me in, angel.”

It took a great deal of effort, but you managed to do as Lloyd said, loosening your muscles to allow Lloyd to slip the tip of his thumb into your ass. You groaned, low and filthy, around the silicone cock in your mouth, your arms giving out as you slumped down into the blankets. Turning your head so your cheek was pressed to the bed, you caught sight of Lloyd staring down at you, a feral grin on his handsome face.

“Ya look so cockdrunk, snickerdoodle,” Lloyd said, laughter in his tone. “But don’t you worry, I’ve got more for those greedy holes of yours.” He pressed his thumb deeper, grunting when your pussy clenched down hard on his cock. He closed his eyes, like he was savoring the feel of having both your holes—not that it was the first time he’d done it. But the possessive streak in Lloyd never seemed to be more satisfied than when he was filling you as much as possible.

While Lloyd pushed his thumb in all the way, using your own spit to make the slide easier, your lashes fluttered and your eyes rolled back in your head. You groaned loudly around the dildo, enjoying the feeling of being full as Lloyd took possession of every one of your holes.

“That’s it, sugar cookie, taking daddy so well,” he praised warmly, his voice rough with arousal. He pressed a kiss to your cheekbone, above where his belt was still tied around your head, his mustache tickling you a little. “My pretty little cocksleeve.”

You sobbed your pleasure, your body trembling as Lloyd began moving, fucking you in short, sharp strokes. He made you feel every inch of his cock in your pussy, and his thumb buried in your ass, and the replica dick in your throat. With every movement, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge of what you were sure was going to be an earth-shattering release.

“You love this, don’t you, angel?” Lloyd purred in your ear, a smirk in his tone. “Love being full of daddy.” He chuckled at your muffled sounds of agreement. “Maybe I should get you two more dildos, hm? That way we could fill all your holes with daddy’s cock.” He pounded into you from behind, making you feel every brutal inch filling you. “I’ll watch you writhe and struggle, jerking myself off to how pathetic and cockdrunk you’ll be. How’s that sound?”

You moaned loudly, liking the sound of Lloyd’s suggestion so much but being unable to voice it. So you nodded your head against the blankets, your cheek to the soft cotton. You caught Lloyd’s eye over your shoulder and gave him a pleading look, though whether you were begging him to make you come or get you more dildos, you weren’t even sure.

“Mm, that’s a good little toy,” Lloyd praised in his rumbly, warm tone. “So willing to let daddy play with you however I want.” He pressed kisses to your cheek and shoulders, his mustache tickling your sweat-slick skin. Lloyd picked up his pace again, fucking into you brutally.

Sobbing and crying out around the toy cock in your mouth, you kept nodded frantically around the gag, growing desperate to come. Despite how filled you were, though, your release was still out of reach. Your moans turned to screams, your holes clenching down everywhere Lloyd was buried inside you.

When he slipped his other hand around your hip and between your thighs, his fingers only needed to brush against your clit once and it set you off like a shot. “Come, little cocksleeve, come all over daddy’s cock,” Lloyd growled in your ear, his thrusts speeding up as he fucked you mercilessly through your orgasm.

Pleasure washed over you in overwhelming waves, your cries muffled by the dildo in your mouth as you screamed yourself hoarse. Your cunt was clenching down rhythmically around Lloyd’s cock, but he didn’t slow down. If anything, he sped up, fucking into you harder and harder, his cock hammering your cunt so roughly, you knew he was trying to brand you as his from the inside.

“My perfect cocksleeve, my good girl, mine, mine, all fucking mine,” Lloyd rasped, fucking you in short, forceful thrusts until his restraint snapped. His movements turned wild as he rutted into you until he was groaning his release. “Mine, my girl, all mine,” he muttered, his cock throbbing as he spilled rope after rope of his seed deep in your cunt. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering closed as you relished the way he painted your insides with his come.

When Lloyd was spent, he collapsed onto the bed, rolling onto his side and taking you with him. His fingers quickly undid the belt from around your head, and he eased the dildo from your mouth, letting it fall to the blanket in a small puddle of your drool. He brushed soft kisses to your swollen lips, his hand gently massaging your throat, murmuring sweet words of praise in your ear, “So good, sweets, took daddy’s cocks so well—looked so pretty coming for daddy.”

“Thank you, daddy,” you whispered, your voice scratchy from your raw throat. You turned your head, catching Lloyd’s eye and smiling. “I loved my Christmas present, Lloyd,” you said genuinely, your hand finding his and lacing your fingers together.

Lloyd squeezed your hand gently in his and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, right where it was curved in a smile. “You’re welcome, precious,” he murmured, nuzzling your face while he held you securely in his arms. “Merry Christmas,” he said again, his voice low and rumbly in the way it got when he was satisfied.

Turning your head, you caught Lloyd’s mouth in a sweet kiss. However, it wasn’t long before Lloyd’s tongue dipped into your mouth, tasting you and the faint traces of the silicone cock he’d shoved down your throat. He groaned into your mouth, and you felt his cock twitching where it was still buried in your cunt.

When he pulled away, Lloyd licked at the drool covering your chin and kissed away the salty tracks of your tears. Then, he asked, “Now, sugar plum, do you want me or my toy cock in your ass?” You felt him grin against your cheek and you whined. Your body ached, but the fire of arousal was already rekindling in your core. “Hush, snickerdoodle,” he chided you lightly. “Daddy’s gotta ruin all your holes so you don’t forget me while I’m gone.”

At that comment, you huffed an exasperated laugh. “As if I could ever forget you, daddy—or your perfect cock,” you muttered. You reached back to bury your fingers in Lloyd’s hair, tugging him in for another kiss over your shoulder. When you pulled away, you didn’t let him go far, smirking against his mouth as you murmured, “I want you in my ass and your toy cock in my pussy, daddy.”

Lloyd chuckled, his cock already sliding free of your cunt and his hand reaching for the dildo. “Naughty vixen,” he rumbled, grunting when your hand wrapped around his cock and guided him to the rosebud between your soft asscheeks. “What’re we gonna do with that filthy mouth while your other holes are full of cock?” He notched the tip of the replica dick at your pussy and began sliding it home while he pushed into your ass at the same time.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you babbled, your mind already going way too hazy to manage anything else. Thankfully, Lloyd knew exactly what to do with your mouth. His free arm pushed beneath your head until your cheek was pillowed on his thick bicep, then he shoved three fingers between your lips.

You sucked greedily on his skin, lapping your tongue against his digits. You tasted a hint of your musk on his fingertips and realized they were the ones that he’d brushed against your clit. You moaned happily, whimpering while he stretched out your ass and pussy until you felt impossibly full of him.

“That’s it, snickerdoodle, suck on daddy’s fingers,” Lloyd groaned in your ear, his voice soaked in pleasure. When both cocks were buried in your ass and cunt, he stilled for a moment, kissing your cheek. “You deserve this, baby—you look so pretty when you’re so stuffed full of cock.”

You whined a ‘thank you, daddy,’ around his fingers. Your eyes were glassy with pleasure while you licked lazily at his skin, writhing between his cocks. He chuckled and kissed your cheek again.

“Just lay there and take it, sugar cookie,” Lloyd murmured in your ear. He held the dildo buried to the hilt in your cunt while he began pulling his cock from your ass before slamming back in. “Take daddy’s cocks, let daddy use you like his perfect little toy.” He worked your body masterfully, setting a brutal pace and fucking your ass harder than he had your cunt, his replica dick keeping your pussy stretched wide for him while he split you open from behind.

All you could do was lay there and take it, sucking idly on Lloyd’s fingers while he ruined your last hole, making sure you’d feel him every single day he was gone between then and Christmas. Not that you minded in the least. In fact, as your body writhed, your spine arching and your mouth letting out loud, helpless moans and pathetic whimpers, you were thankful for Lloyd and his gift and the fact that you were getting filled for Christmas.

#lloyd hansen x reader #naughty or nice challenge #thank you for participating

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