Tags: @skishenanigans (not sure if you wanted to be tagged in this bb, but I wrote this with you in mind since you’ve had a bad week at work) @ready-for-my-dance
The gold and red accents glittered off the light of the chandelier of Stark Tower. Everyone and their mothers was here, for only god knows what this time. You scanned the floor from your seat at the bar at the edge of the ballroom, taking in your surroundings, sizing up the people there. Some were wealthy, people you would see on T.V. - most likely politicians and a few local actors, others were people who probably managed to get Stark’s attention, or knew someone who knew someone who knew someone.
You started noticing the gorgeous outfits, all the colors and and styles blurring together yet standing out at the same time. Even the Avengers knew how to clean up well. For people who were usually covered in blood, sweat, and dirt, they were all currently well groomed and dressed to impress the public eye.
Bucky was by far the most impressive. His usual shy, insecure demeanor was completely different now. Around the training facility, you could usually find him in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, glove covering his metal hand at all times, and his hair a mess. Or maybe just a long sleeve shirt if he wasn’t wearing his arm. But now, he was dressed in a silver suit with a navy button down shirt and a black tie. He wore a similar colored black glove on his hand and his hair was in a neat bun. He was still covered up, but his shoulders weren’t slacked anymore. He was standing with confidence.
Hey everyone, I wanted to let you all know that as of Nov 1 2018, I am retiring this blog. I will be switching the email an everything iver to my spam account because deleting it doesn't make sense. But unless Louise decides to become active again, this blog is forever done for.
I, Admin Jasmine, now run a new blog for my wiritng. It is currently Marvel as thats where my interests currently lie. The blog is @lucky-bucky-boy and I encourage you all to go follow if you enjoyed my writing, I promise it's improved.
I will share a few of my one shots over the course of the month so you guys can have an easier for you to find.
Notes: I’ve decided I’m going to turn this into a series. If this work seems familiar, it’s because it was originally a submission for the (gorgeous, prefect, talented, hilarious, sweetiepie) blog @skishenanigans, but I think I need it on my blog as well. Enjoy the fic, please like/reblog if you enjoyed it!
Bucky wasn’t really your friend. He wasn’t really anybody’s friend besides Steve’s. He just kept to himself in the training facility, not speaking to anyone, only occasionally allowing a smile when Wanda and Nat got up to some antics. He was a teammate, for sure, and you would trust him to save your life if it came down to it. But you knew almost nothing about him except a few key points: his name was James Buchanan Barnes, he was born in 1917, and for the last seventy years, he was a brainwashed assassin working for HYDRA. You had seen footage of his skirmish with Nat, Sam, and Steve on the highway and it gave you chills. He looked so purposeful, so coldly efficient. Sam, having gotten over the trauma of Bucky nearly killing him, referred to it as the “murder strut.”
Summary: You take your son to meet his dad, Tony Stark, who has no idea he exists.
Author’s Notes: Angsty fluff
Feedback and suggestions always welcomed!
You never intended for this to happen. You loved your son to pieces but it was nights like this that your heart ached and you wondered how everything went so wrong. It was yet another night of him asking about his father, when daddy would come home, when he would get to meet daddy.
Your response was sweet and short as always, “He’s off saving the world, honey.” And when he would start asking, they were the nights you sent him to bed a little early, and with only one bedtime story instead of two. Your answer wasn’t a lie, it never was. But it was never the full truth, never the answer that Alex was looking for.
Most days you could ignore how much he resembled his father. His dark hair and big brown eyes could be a characteristic of hundreds of thousands of men. His quirky attitude and know it all style - even at three he somehow knew he was destined for greatness, destined for a legacy. And he was so incredibly intelligent - Alex was forming full sentences and almost able to hold conversations by the time he was two.
But nights like this - nights where his nose scrunched in distress, obviously upsets; nights where his tiny limbs filled with hope despite knowing his answer already; nights where his big eyes filled with sorrow, filled with abandonment after you gave him the same answer. These were the nights that hurt the most. These were nights you knew you weren’t the great mother you wanted to be.
You knew you were letting him down, you knew you could do better, you knew what you were doing was wrong. Your body shook as you lied on your side in bed, body quaking as you sobbed into your pillow. Alex deserved to know his father, and admittedly his father deserved to know Alex.
But there’s the problem. Alex’s father didn’t know Alex even exist.
It all happened in a short span of two months. He was your boss. You knew it was wrong, but god damn it felt so right at the time. You still wondered now if it was love or lust. Emotions told you love, logic told you lust to make it easier to move on. But you couldn’t deny how much you missed him.
You couldn’t deny it to yourself. You missed his voice so much you would watch interviews of him when you were at your lowest lows and desperate for him. You missed the sound of his laugh and the way his smile could light up the whole room. You missed the salt and peppered hair that was always effortlessly perfect. You missed the warmth in his embrace. You missed the smell of unnecessarily strong coffee that would linger into the late hours of the morning after he had a rough night. You missed Tony with every fiber in your body it was nearly sickening.
You hadn’t seen him in about 3 and a half years, and each day seemed to hurt more than the last. Time heals all wounds. Funny. You thought as you pulled yourself from the pathetic position you were in a went to shower, hoping the hot water would calm you and melt your worries away. Your thoughts raced, mind becoming cloudy and foggy like the mirror in the bathroom.
You missed working for Tony, being with Tony. You worked with him for almost two years before you two ended up hooking up and it quickly became a common occurrence. You would have stayed, you should have stayed. But jealousy took the best of you.
You saw him and Pepper in his office. You had heard rumors of them trying to work things out and get back together. He lied saying he was in a meeting with a potential business partner looking to help some local city kids out and there he was, in his office, hugging Pepper as she cried into his chest. You could still feel the heat on your neck from the anger you felt towards the sight.
There little moment was quickly destroyed when you made your presence known. Pepper had scurried out, claiming she would be late for a meeting if she didn’t leave soon. And it was all downhill from there. Yelling, screaming, throwing things. Accusations and denials only making the other person more angry.
Everything had spilled over in the first, and last, argument of that fragment of a relationship. And you regretted it to this very day. You lost everything because you couldn’t keep your cool, because you could let him explain. He could be so sneaky and dishonest, yet so charming and trustful that you doubted every word he said in that moment.
Even when he was done yelling and begging you to calm down, begging you to listen, telling you that he wanted to be with you and not her; You wouldn't believe him. All of your worst fears had been presented in front of you. The first man you come to trust in years, the first man you had come to love in years, and you felt like your heart had been ripped out and shattered.
You quit right then and there. Packing your stuff up out of the tower, Tony followed you, begging you not to leave. You didn’t listen, continuing to push past him as you left, lugging everything you own in a suitcase and leaving behind one of the best things to happen to you.
And now here you were. In a tiny apartment, struggling to pay your bills, with a nearly 3 year old begging to meet his dad as you cried selfishly in the shower. You couldn’t keep living like this. You were taking your insecurities and fear out on your son, and Alex didn’t deserve that. He deserved better than what you were giving him. And there was only one way to start making things better.
You finished showering, wrapping yourself up in a towel. It was 11 at night already, and any sane person wouldn’t make a call this late. But you weren’t sane at this point, and you knew Tony wouldn’t be asleep.
Grabbing your phone, you hesitated, finger hovering over the call button on Tony’s contact. You always wanted to delete it but never brought yourself to actually doing so. And in this moment, you were glad you didn’t.
With a shaky breath you pressed, the button and brought the phone two your ear. Three rings. Only three rings.
“...(Y/N)?”
“Hey, Tony,” You had a lump in your throat as tears threatened to take over. Taking in another shaky breath, you spoke before he could, knowing he would ask what was wrong. “I need to see you. I’ll be there tomorrow at noon…”
You hung up before he could say anything else and forced yourself to go to bed, anxiety taking over you and riddling your night.
~~
You didn’t tell Alex you were taking him to meet his dad. You told him you were taking him to meet Iron Man, and of course his favorite superhero had to be his father. He sat in your lap in the Stark Tower lobby, bouncing and wiggling, anticipation bubbling over. He was so happy, and his smile was absolutely contagious.
The receptionist finally let you know you could take the elevator up. There were so many familiar faces you missed, a few new ones you didn’t bother to store in your memory. You held Alex on your hip as you entered the elevator, taking it up to Tony’s personal floor.
He was talking your ear off, telling you about all the things he would say and do to Mr.Stark when he met him. And that this was a dream come true. You ruffled his hair just as the elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open.
You weren’t expecting to be greeted by my than just Tony. Steve, Banner, and Nat were there as well. You smiled nervously at them, stepping off the elevator and sitting Alex on the floor. All there looks spoke volumes.
They were all shocked, Nat quickly looking between Alex and Tony as if she had already pieced together the puzzle. Alex stood there, looking at all of them in awe and excitement. “Hi! I’m Alex!” He blurted out.
You knelt down to Alex, telling him to go over and say hi and figure out who everyone was. You promised him that he could trust the people there and that you were going to go talk to Mr.Stark in private for a few minutes.
You could feel Tony’s eyes boring into you, years of feelings along with new ones bubbling inside him. You stood and Tony motioned for you to follow him. You two stepped into his bedroom, door shutting behind you two.
No matter what, you couldn’t force yourself to look at him. Shame, regret, humiliation washed over you. “Who is he?” His voice was soft, almost pained and strained behind a lifetime’s worth of emotion.
“His name is Alex…” You mumbled, looking down. The tears had already begin to prick your eyes, a lump quickly growing in your throat. “I’m so sorry…” You kept your gaze downcast, realizing how deeply in the wrong you were.
“Who. Is. He.” His voice was more forceful, and you knew what he was really asking. You knew he already had the growing suspicion, just waiting for your confirmation.
The atmosphere of the room quickly begin to thicken, and you could feel the anger and betrayal sweeping off of him in waves as he watched you broken figure. “He’s your son, Tony.” You voice broke when you said his name, tears finally betraying you and streaking down your face.
Silence filled the air between the two of you, making the tension even worse. You looked up, seeing Tony with his eyes closed and hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “How old is he?”
“He’ll be three in three months.” You watched his face, looking for his reaction. He didn’t look happy, not even close. The tension caused his shoulders to tighten more.
“I’ve been a father for almost 3 years and you couldn’t bother to let me be a dad to this boy because of what?” He was suddenly looking at me, eyes burning with rage. “Because you couldn’t swallow your pride enough to let jme know you got knocked up? Because of what? Jealousy?” The longer he spoke, the more you regretted
You subconsciously took a step back, Tony following you with every step you you took until your back was pressed against the wall. “We could have been good together. I would have raised him better than my father raised me. We would have been unstoppable. But you had to leave.”
The anger in his eyes quickly turned to pain. You could see the tears well up in his eyes. “(Y/N), all I've ever wanted to do was be a father. Be a better father than my father. And his father. I wanted to break this fucking cycle but you -” he shook his head, gathering his composure. “You took that away from me. You couldn't let me. I've spent the past three years wondering what I did wrong. I destroyed any hope for Pepper of us getting back together that day so I could be with you. And you left me. You left because you couldn't let your pride go for one minute and let me explain.”
You swallowed that lump in your throat, looking at him with begging eyes. “Tony please. I can't turn back the clock and take back the last few years. But I'm begging you now. I need your help. I need you. I can't keep doing this alone. I know I fucked up and I've paid for it every night since than.” He went to take a step away and you grabbed his shirt, pulling him to you. “I'm not asking you to give me another chance. I'm asking you to be a dad. I'm asking you to be in life enough to be there for Alex. We can change his last name if you want, I'll get a paternity test. Anything. Just -Tony, please. I need you.”
Silence filled the room as he searched your eyes; Searching for lies, for distrustful hints, for hatred, for anything that might hurt him again.
He missed you so much. He would watched old videos of two. He still had a few of your things in his room and never bothered to move, hoping maybe one day you'd come back for them. He had photo albums he'd pull out when he was too drunk to realize the pain it would cause in the morning. He missed your scent, your eyes, your smile, your voice. He missed you.
“Of course I'll be there for him, (Y/N/N),” he sighed shakily as you let go of his clothes. He ran a hand through his hair. “But we -” he motioned between the two of you. “Need to take us slow. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you back… but it's been a long three years, and we need to work some things out.”
Your heart fluttered with hope. You nodded, taking the bone he was throwing. “Now go out there. I'll be out in a minute. I need to gather myself.”
Leaving his room you headed back to the living area, seeing Alex sitting in Steve's lap. He was rambling in about his is favorite thing in the whole wide world was trains and plains and that he likes old timey books that talked about the cool ones - like the ones Steve got to see. You could see Steve melting with every word he said. In fact, Steve, Banner, and Nat all looked at Alex like he was a precious gem.
“Alex, baby,” you said, coming over to him. You sat on the couch next to Steve and Alex crawled from his lap to yours. “I have someone I want you to meet. You've kinda already met him already - but, there's something special about him?”
Alex's eyes lit up and he wiggled in your lap. “Special? What kind of special? Can he read minds? Or walk on walls?”
You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. “No baby boy,” you ran a hand through his hair. “The man you're going to meet again is your daddy.”
The amount of joy that filled his eyes was better than that of any kid on christmas day. “I - Daddy?” He stood, obviously excited. He was jumping around, looking around. “I get to meet daddy! Where is he where is he! I wanna meet him!”
And just like that, Tony being Tony came out with well timed entrance. He couldn't hide the smile on his face as he saw Alex's giddiness. He came over and knelt down next to Alex.
Alex stood still, looking at Tony when he was near him. “Hi sport,” he smiled, obviously holding back tears. “I'm Tony Stark, but you can call me dad.”
Also, the favorites:
1) DID I SAY YOU COULD HURT ME LIKE THIS?!?;?!;
2) DONT HURT MY BABY WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS
3) why must you hurt me this way
4) WHY IS THIS A CLIFFHANGER?! WHAT HAPPENS NEXT I NEED TO KNOW
5) This made me cry/squeal/giggle/wake the dead with my laughter
6) I almost woke my family laughing at ___ part
7) I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED THIS AU UNTIL YOU POSTED THIS
8) this is so cute I’m dying
9) and (writer’s name) strikes again!
10) I had to reread this bc it’s so good and I love it
11) I wish I could like/heart/kudos this more than once
Like, seriously guys, freak out with us and you’ll have us wrapped around your little fingers.
This was inspired by a lot of @skishenanigans writing, as is much of my writing I’m working on. Go check her out, she’s amazing!
Lance is an asshole. I learned that quickly. He’s so sure of himself, so proud, so confident. It makes him arrogant. He knows what he wants, what he thinks he deserves, and doesn’t settle for less.
This attitude leaks into every aspect of his life; Work, social, romance. Anyone could see just how much of a dickhead Lance could be by watching one of his practices. They usually weren’t open to the public, but when they were for promotional reasons, a viewer would see how he treated his students. Lots of barking, lots of orders, lots of what they were doing wrong. It was very rare to hear Lance praise someone. But it worked. His students are amazing performers. And he knows that. He pushed everyone he knew to their limits and beyond them.
When I met Lance, I instantly wished I could unmeet him. A friend of a friend of mine got wind of one of his parties and I was new to town so I got dragged to it so I could meet some new people. I was excited to go at first. I hadn’t been out in months since I moved to the area - It was work, gym, sleep, repeat. I dressed up a little, nothing fancy just a black pair of skinny jeans and a nice top with a little jewelry and very natural, minimal makeup.
His house was filled with people I had never met but looked familiar, most of them the socialites of the town. Lots of young gymnast, some local celebrities, a few t.v. personal, and a few who you could tell had at least 6 digits in their bank account. I attempted to make myself look as comfortable as possible, immediately failing and standing out amongst everyone. To top it off, I was still the “new girl” of the town so everyone was sizing me up.
I quickly found the drinks, downing a shot before taking a glass of wine, hoping the the liquor would loosen me up some. I watched everyone around me, catching a few staring as I did so. I grew tired of their scrutinizing stares and headed to the back porch, happy to see the yard was deserted. I flopped down into one of the chair, sighing happily as a rush of quiet and relief flooded over me.
I took note of the nicely trimmed yard, looking at the garden along either side covering the fences that surrounded the field of green before me. There was a pool at the end of the yard that looked like it had just been recently clean because the blue was vibrant enough that it practically illuminated the concrete patio around it. I noticed a grill that looked like it had never been touched and the minibar on the opposite side of the porch I was on. /So, he definitely has money./
“You must be the new girl everyone is talking about.” A deep voice spoke behind me, causing me to jump and spill some wine on myself, quickly snapping out of the trance I was in.
“Shit,” I grumbled, looking down at the mess on my shirt. I stood, looking at the man before me. It suddenly made sense as to why he was so cocky. He was a gorgeous man. No one should look that good in a tracksuit. “Hi, I’m (Y/N).”
He smiled a toothy shark-like grin. “Hey, new girl. I’m Lance. But I’m sure you already know that if you’re here.” He mused. I watched as his gaze moved from my face to look my up and down, smiling to himself. “Need a new shirt?” He asked, gesturing to the quickly drying stain on my shirt.
I looked down and huffed, shaking my head. “No, but I bet you’d love to see me in one of your shirts.”
I saw the corner of his lips twitch up into a smirk. “I like you.”
I couldn’t help the eye roll I gave at the sound of his snarky comment. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go grab my bag so I can change.”
Lance spent the whole night making comments and having snarky, teasing exchanges.
I had popped a piece of candy into my mouth just as Lance had walked into the kitchen, eliciting a very cocky, “You like having stuff in your mouth, don’t you?” from him. I responded with yet another eyeroll and a “You wish you could find out.”
As the party moved on, everyone migrated to the backyard. One of Lance’s students begin to show off, doing splits, backbends, flips, and others of that sorts. I was watching, half annoyed and half amused that a girl would be that desperate for someone’s attention when I felt warmth spreading over the back of my neck. Lance was standing behind me, his chest just centimeters from my back, his breath fanning over me. “I wonder how flexible you are, doll.” I didn’t have a chance to respond before he moved from behind me like nothing happened and made his way to his student, smiling at her and giving her some praise.
I would catch him staring at me, and I know he caught me glancing his way a few times. The game was fun; the back and forth, the attention I got from him so effortlessly as girls practically threw themselves at him. The annoyance I had from our first interaction was gone and I couldn’t help but see how far he’d go.
As the party drew to an end, I walked around Lance’s house looking for my friend. After about 15 minutes of searching it hit me that she had left without me. The last guest had twinkled out the door, Lance closing his door behind them and looking at me, an eyebrow cocked. “Couldn’t get enough of me?” He teased.
I huffed out a small sarcastic laugh, “Yeah, totally couldn’t get enough of you staring at my ass all night.” I shook my head, looking at my phone as I impatiently waited for my friend to text me back. “(Y/F/N) left without me.”
He chuckled some, “Well some friend she is.” He looked around, seeing the mess in his house and tsking. “Here, help me clean up and I’ll give you a ride home if you want.”
I looked at him, amusement written on my face, “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night.”
Lance and I spent the next hour picking up trash, toys, and games in the yard. I picked up a tennis ball, waiting for him to turn around and throwing it at his butt, watching him jump and yelp as it bounced off of him. He looked at me, narrowing his eyes in a playful glare. I giggled and just continued to pick up trash. “You were being too quiet, sorry.” I teased.
I headed inside, cleaning up the kitchen and beginning to wash the dishes from the night. I looked up at him when I heard his back door open, offering him a small smile before looking back down at the dish in my hand. “Hm, I think I could get used to a housewife,” He teased. “Especially one this…” I felt him standing over me, his breath on the back of my neck again. I froze momentarily, closing my eyes and trying to clear my mind as my whole body heated up. “... this unmatched.”
I chuckled softly, “Unmatched?” I asked, swallowing hard, regaining my composure as I continued to clean the dishes.
“Mhm. Unmatched by the rest of the people who want me.”
“And who says I want you?”
“Why else would your sober friend ditch you halfway through the party to find your own way home?”
I froze for a minute, piecing some things together. She’d been say for the past two months that I needed to go out, go party, get laid. I scoffed, “That bitch.” I muttered, setting the last dish in the holder to dry.
I turned around, pinned between Lance and the counter. I looked up at him, searching his face, seeing his eyes slowly dilate and his ocean blue iris get flooded with his pitch black pupil. “Come on, let’s finish cleaning up.” My voice was more airy than I intended to be, only causing his jaw to clench. He nodded, stepping aside so I could move.
We finished cleaning up the house, wiping everything down and vacuuming the little carpet he had. We exchanged some small talk. Lance had just moved into this house a month ago and this was his house warming party. Something about time to upgrade and settle down. I told him about my family back home and moving here to get a fresh start. It was about midnight when we finally finished cleaning.
I was gathering all my stuff into my bag, double checking for everything. Phone charger. Deodorant. Wallet. Spare clothes just in case. House keys. I was pulled out of my mental list by Lance’s voice, “Are you sure you want to leave?” I glanced over at him from my position by the front door, seeing him leaning against the archway into the living room.
“Why do ya ask? Don’t want me to leave?” I teased, looking down at my bag. I couldn’t lie, I was enjoying his company. We had the same humor and he actually had depth to him behind his dickhead exterior.
He chuckled some, and I swore I could detect a hint of nervousness in the way he moved. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the company. Besides, this big house gets kind of lonely…” He bit his lip and something inside me lit on fire. “You don’t look like you want to leave either.”
I opened my mouth to say something but closed it, looking down at my bag. “Honestly, no I don’t.” I dropped my bag and kicked my shoes off. “I guess you win this round, fucker.”
“It’s Tucker.”
“I know.”
He chuckled some and motioned for me to follow him. “Come on, I have a pool outback I have yet to use.”
“I don’t have a bathing suit though.” I protested.
“Neither do I.” He shrugged.
“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” I asked, looking up at him.
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “You’re not pussing out on me, are you?”
I scoffed, “Hell no. Just not sure someone like you can keep their hands to themselves.”
“Do you want me to keep my hands to myself?”
I rolled my eyes again. We quickly reached the pool and I stripped down, throwing my clothes onto on of the lounge chairs sitting on the patio. I watched Lance as he went and grabbed towels from the little beach shed and plopped them on the chair as well. I was already stripped down completely and smirked when I caught his shocked gaze.
Lance swallowed hard, jaw clenched tightly. He turned from me as he stripped down and I cannonballed into the pool, splashing him and laughing went he called me a bitch. “Come on, slowpoke. You’re the one who suggested this.”
He finished stripping and I whistled when I saw his ass, seeing the blush heat up his body before he jumped into the pool with me. I had to do a double take when I saw the tattoo coming up onto his stomach. “Did you really get a tattoo of a gold medal for your dick?”
He shrugged, smiling cheekily. “It’s worthy of it.”
I was shocked to say the least at how playful Lance was. We spent at least an hour splashing, doing breath holding contests, jumping on each other, and racing.
When we finally stopped, I was hanging on the edge on the pool, catching my breath. Lance had made us a few drinks and brought them down to the pool and I was happily sucking on the cold slush in my cup. He got back into the pool, disappearing from my peripheral vision as he moved behind me.
I felt his hands on my hips, pulling me against him. I loosened up, letting him move me to see what he wanted. When I felt him grind into me, his dick pressing against my ass, I bit my lip to keep back the whimper caught in my throat.
“What do you think you’re doing, Tucker?” I muttered, taking another sip of my drink.
His teeth were nibbling at my ear, breath dancing across my skin causing goosebumps to form on my skin. “Do you want me to stop, baby girl?”
My breath hitched in my throat, my voice getting stuck along with it. Warmth spread through me at his words and I couldn’t help but to grind back on him.
I could practically hear the smirk on his lips. “That’s what I thought.” I gasped when I felt his nails dig into the soft flesh of my ass. “It’s nice to see what my touch does to your bratty little attitude.”
I scoffed, “Be honest with yourself - you love that you found a girl who bites back.” I ground into him more, “God, you’re fucking huge. You would think as cocky as you are it would be because you’re compensating for something.”
The growl that left his lips rattled me to the core, a coil burning bright in me, begging to be touched. I turned out, my back being pressed against the slit tile of the pool walls as he closed the gap between us. My hands were pressed to his chest, his dick firmly pressed against my stomach.
“I'm cocky because I can be. Because little girls like you quiver when assholes like me walk in the room, and you can't help but love it,” His lips were at my ear again, breath erupting goosebumps where it touch. He bit the skin underneath my ear, causing a needy gasp to escape my lips. “I'm cocky because little girls like you made me this way. Seeing your body beg to be touched before the words can even leave your lips. Feeling the goosebumps against my lips as I tease. Hearing your breath hitch as words and moans get stuck in your throat. Feeling your body tremble with lust as you try to fight the craving. I can't help if I'm addicted to you, can I, little girl?”
I moved my hands to card them through his wet locks. “You have 3 seconds to kiss me or I'm snapping your dick off,” I muttered, tugging his hair to pull him from my neck.
His eyes moved from mine down to my lips; his Prince Charming blue eyes were now as dark as the night sky above us, swimming around a black hole of iris. One hand grabbed the back of my neck, pulling my face towards him as he crashed his lips to mine. It was soft at first, learning and asking. With a small tug to his hair, the pace quickened, becoming full of lust as his tongue fought mine in a battle for dominance I was already prepared to lose.
He hands gripped at my thighs, pulling them to wrap around his waist, water rustling around as at the abrupt movement. His hands moved from my thighs as I ground against him, fingertips bruising as the explored every inch of my body he could. One minute he was grabbing at my ass, the next pulling my hair and gripping my sides.
He tugged my hair especially hard, causing me to pull back from his lips. I leaned back some, studying his face. His eyes were more lust blown than before and his lips were puckered and plump from the kiss.
He quickly dipped his head, latching his mouth around my nipple. I couldn't fight that pornographic moan that escaped my lips. I rutted in him more, needing friction, the desire practically driving me insane.
He chuckled against the sensitive nub, causing vibrations to raddle through my body and sending heat straight to my core. “So fucking sexy, little girl.” He managed to get out between switching nipples, giving the other one the same attention.
“I swear to God, Lance if you don't get in me now I'll make sure the whole town hears what a bad fuck you are,” I growled out, tugging out his hair.
His eyes bordered on innocent for a moment, giving me whiplash as he took me being off guard with his puppy gaze to quickly line himself with my core and slam into me.
My eyes fluttered shut, head thrown back as a loud, echoing moan erupted from my throat.
“Is that what you want, slut?” He didn't move at all, staying fully seated in me. “Did you want my fat cock stretching your tight little pussy? Is this enough for you?”
One of his huge hands came to grab the base of my jaw at my neck, pulling me up until I was looking at him dead in the eyes. He squeezed, cutting off a tiny bit of blood flow to my brain causing me to gasp. “Better, you little bitch?”
His hips drew out before snapping back in, quickly setting a relentless, unforgiving pace. The water sloshed around us, adding to the sinful sound of my moans. I pinched my eyes shut, hands carding in his hair and tugging and the pleasure built in me, each thrust sending a shockwave of bliss to my nerves.
I would occasionally hear a moan or groan leave his lips, only intensifying my lust for the man who had me vulnerable. I started rocking my hips, meeting his thrusts. His free hands moved to flick, pinch, and tug my nipples, causing my moans to get louder.
A devious thought danced through the last bit of coherent mind I had, “Fuck, Coach! Harder, please, Coach!”
His hips suddenly stopped. Just as I was opening my eyes to look at him, he started thrusting more erratically, hand on my throat and chin squeezing a little harder. “Look at me, little girl.”
I whimpered as I forced my eyes open, looking at him as if he was a God. The coil in me begin to build, teetering on the brink of orgasm. “Fuck, I love you cock,” I gasped as he rolled his hips in a different angle, hitting my g spot with the tip of his cock and my clit with his pelvic bone. “God, I'm close. Fuck. Please make me cum, Coach. Please.” I couldn't help but beg as the pleasure finished building.
One more thrust to that little spot that drove me insane and I was toppling over the edge with a scream of his name a spew of curses as I rode out my orgasm. I felt his hips sputter some as he came, thick spurts of cum painting my insides. I moaned at the feeling, high off of euphoria.
He slowly pulled out, both of us looking down to see the cum swirl around the water. He chuckled some as I unwrapped my legs and placed them on the pool floor, hands gripping onto the poolside to steady myself.
“Well damn,” he chuckled some, still breathless and slightly flushed. “That's the best sex I've had in awhile.”
I smiled up at him, still slightly dizzy from the orgasm, “Ditto.”
Silence settled over us, water calming down, and the peaceful night noises of owls and crickets returned. We both caught our breath, gathering our composure before getting out at drying off.
I caught him staring at me as I was pulling my underwear and shirt back on. “Addicted already?” I teased, shaking my ass at him.
He chuckled some, hand moved to rub nervously against the nape of his neck. “Uh, actually… about that… “ He smiled some, regaining his cockiness as he pulled his boxers up. “Why don't you let me show you around town tomorrow night, new girl?”
(1/?)I can't help but imagine telling Lance you're pregnant. It's after one of his trainees wins a gold medal. And they've moved from celebrating the gymnast to celebrating Lance's coaching. And you had to be extra cause he's extra. And when they're announcing him, they say something like "renowned coach, son, boyfriend, and father" and he smilimg until the father part and he looks shocked. And you in the sidelines wearing one of his track jackets zipped up.
(2/?)He’s looking at the announcer confused and you come up to him, in front of hundreds of people, on live t.v. You unzip the jacket when he looks at you and you’re wearing a that says “we’ve hit the jackpot, prepare for 18 years of golden times” and he reads it and he’s stunned and for a second you’re scared and worried but he breaks into this huge smile and pulls you in for a tight hug. Youre so ecstatic you dont realize hes crying until his tears hit your neck where hes buried his face.
(3/3) It ends up being a baby girl and he cant be more proud to be a father, especially to something so precious. You would lay there with your daughter sitting in your tummy while he talks to her, telling her how great shes going to be, that hes going to train her to be the next biggest thing in gymnastics. Shed love Lance. Shed be such a daddys girl. Life would be perfect. He’d put her before everything else. Before his social life, his reputation, even his career
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